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His back straightened. “Yes, I would.” He took two steps and picked Dyota up from the floor.

“Iddy?” she asked. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Put her down,” Nellith said. “You don’t want to test me.”

“I won’t let these girls be your next victims,” he said. “I can’t let you raise them only for you to use them.”

My eyes widened, and I looked up at Nellith. “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you?”

She shook her head and ran her hand down my head, flattening the hair against my neck.

“Of course not,” she said.

“Let me go,” Alcaeus said, holding Dyota closer to his body. “If you won’t let me take both, let me leave with Dyota. There is a Templar in town.” She stiffened. “I told the barkeep to hand him a letter if I didn’t show up before nightfall. A letter that will lead him right here. And you know he’ll send a message to the Republic, and they will come in force and take Idonea away.”

“Fine,” she said. “Take Dyota. But if you ever return, or even think about touching Idonea, I will find you.”

“No,” I said and struggled under Nellith’s grasp. “You can’t let him take Dyota.”

“Iddy…” Dyota stretched her hand out to me.

Nellith picked me up from the floor and walked away from the room.

“Dyota!”

She carried me all the way down the stairs kicking and screaming for my sister.

The world swam and buckled once more. She didn’t want it to be true, but she was back in the secret room — back with a possessed Dyota.

It was no memory. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but she wanted to escape.

Dyota thrashed in her restraints, oblivious to her presence. Foreign cries of pain tore from her mouth. Each sound hard against Idonea’s ears.

Then Dyota relaxed. Idonea’s legs were melded to the floor; nothing could make her go closer. Even if she was her sister.

Dyota’s head lifted. “Is that you, sister?”

Her heart skipped a beat. She was fighting the possession.

Idonea stepped forward. “Dyota…”

The blanket hung half off the bed, exposing her bare arms and more of the corruption deep in her veins. Idonea stifled a gasp.

“Come closer,” Dyota said, straining her left hand up from her leather binds. She sounded lucid.

“What happened to you, sister?” Idonea whispered.

She moved closer and stood by her side, her hand shaking as she reached out.

Dyota’s face twisted into an angry snarl, and her hand broke free from her bonds. She snatched at Idonea’s wrist; her grip was tight, burning against Idonea’s flesh. With a sharp tug, Dyota pulled her down towards her face.

“Save me,” she rasped.

Then reality tore apart.

Idonea shook her head, but the motion only dislodged more pain. Tears burned her eyes. She found herself on hands and knees, the rug blurring beneath her as blood fell from her nose and darkened the weave.

Her stomach lurched. Bile gathered at the back of her throat and she dry-heaved, her whole body clenching with the effort. A ring of red seared around her wrist; the burn was real.