The blazing light from the artifact suddenly died, plunging us into momentary darkness before the torches around the throne room flickered back to life. My knees buckled beneath me as my strength drained away like water through cupped hands.
I would have collapsed to the cold stone floor if not for the King's firm grip around my waist. His touch made my skin crawl, but I was too weak to pull away.
"So fragile," he mocked, his cold breath fanning against my ear. "Your mother could perform rituals ten times more powerful without breaking a sweat. What a disappointment you've turned out to be."
I bit my tongue to keep from responding. Let him think me weak. Let him underestimate me. In the end, it would be his downfall.
My blood still coated my palm, but the stone had transformed. In its place lay a small silver box, intricately engraved with the same symbols that had marked the stone. The relic had changed form, absorbing the scattered artifacts I'd summoned from across the realms.
