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Then one black point slowly turned towards me.
36
BRYONY
The Crown had found another way to be a bastard.
Its black point stayed aimed at Stellan while the rest of it lay still. Blood had soaked through the cloth around his waist again. A drop slid over his hip and struck the floor.
The Crown scraped towards it.
I shoved the broken sword across its path. Metal struck metal with a sharp clang, and the Crown spun away from Stellan’s blood.
“It’s noticed what makes you reach for it,” he said.
“It can keep noticing from under the throne.” I pressed the sword against one point. “Help me put it back with the house.”
His mouth curved despite the blood loss. “You’re getting demanding.”
“You’re leaking on my floor.”
The Crown pushed against my blade. I put my free hand on the side of the throne and pictured the narrow space under it closing. Stone moved over my boots. A shallow ridge rose around the Crown, trapping the black metal inside a circle no wider than a dinner plate.
It struck the new edge and stopped.
Lenora watched it from beside the damaged doors. “That won’t hold it for long.”
“It only has to hold until we take Adrian’s dagger.” I kept the blade over the Crown. “Can it use Stellan’s blood without being on my head?”
“The Crown can strengthen itself with royal blood, although it can’t claim the Blood King’s power without a willing heir.”
“He isn’t feeding the fucking hat.”
“Agreed,” Stellan said.
Another drop escaped his bandage. The Crown hit the stone ridge hard enough to crack it.
I looked at the wound down his side. The red line had spread beyond the cloth, and the skin around it remained open. “You need to lie down.”
“Adrian is outside the door.”
“Lenora is watching it. You can bleed in the bedroom instead of beside the object trying to drink you.”
He glanced at Lenora.
She drew her sword and took his position near the doors. “Go. I’ll shout if Adrian puts the dagger near a seal.”
The Crown struck the ridge again. This time, the crack ran into the floor.
“And I’ll shout if this moves,” I said.
Stellan caught my wrist before I could press harder against the broken sword. His grip stayed careful, although the tension in his fingers reached the bond.
“You’re coming with me.”
“I can hold it here.”
“It’s trying to make you choose between containing it and keeping me alive. Stop accepting the choice it offered.”
