Estela lets out a mangled cry, stunned when she looks at Arlet, who still thrashing in my arms.
“Who did this?” she asks, voice high with shock.
I say nothing as the queen moves. It’s an awful scene, and I don’t know how to tell her her friend did this.
Teo wraps his arms around his wife, pushing her behind him.
“Don’t look,mi amor,” he says as he approaches the body. He kneels, but doesn’t touch the blood, carefully inspecting the person when Arlet hisses.
I watch Estela look at her friend. Arlet scrapes at me and the queen presses into the wall, confused and scared.
“I am sorry, Estela,” I start. “Arlet did this.”
“No,” she says, eyes wide. “She couldn’t…”
Arlet thrashes harder, kicking at me until her foot connects with my groin. I curse, pain shooting up my spine, and she drops to the floor, scrambling away from Estela’s light.
I stand just as Estela steps forward.
“My star, no,” Teo clips.
We grab the queen at the same time, each catching an arm, and stilling her movement. Estela takes in a sharp breath.
“Stay back,” I growl.
“Wait. She fears me. She… whatever she is right now needs to be restrained before she hurts anyone else again. I think I can scare her, be ready to put her to sleep,” she says firmly, looking at Teo.
We release her arms, and she reaches into her pocket, producing a crystal. Amethyst, for sleep.
“You know how to sing, yes?” she asks me.
I nod once. “I can put her to sleep.”
Arlet makes another hideous sound. The air around her is twisting, warping, as if something unseen is curling its fingers through her. The edges of her form seem too sharp, her breath comes in ragged gasps, and her blackened eyes glint.
Teo walks with Estela as she moves forward. "Arlet, are you in there?"
Arlet hisses. Then she lunges.
Estela's magic acts faster. Light erupts. It floods the space, blinding and hot. For a second, I worry that Arlet is hurt. For a single, fractured moment—I see fear.
When the light dims, Arlet is cowering in the corner of the room.
I hurry forward, grabbing her and pressing the crystal to her temple. Arlet lets out an awful sound, trying to get away. My sleeping song is short and clipped, but the moment the crystal glows against her skin, her body goes limp against me.
The silent room is filled with horror.
Estela uses her finger to conjure another spell light that better illuminates the bed. It’s covered with tangled sheets stained red.
Her breath catches.
"Lord Vann." Her voice is raw. “Do you know who that is?”
“I don’t,” I say, reverently. Words pour through my mind—begging for a peaceful journey to the afterlife.
This is all wrong. Why was Arlet with anyone at all? And how did she turn into a monster?
“We must send someone to try to tend to the body and prepare itfor burial,” Estela continues, then her throat bobs. “Ulla could…” she trails off, and presses a hand to her forehead.