Read Online Gathering of Shadows (A Darker Shade of Magic) by V.E. Schwab - Free Book Online Page A

else.”
    “And?”
    “And you greatly underestimate my capacity for suffering.”
    “Suit yourself,” said the prince, rising to his feet with his usual lazy grace. “
I’m
going to take a turn around the room.”
    Kell glowered but did not rise. He watched Rhy go, trying to emulate the prince’s practiced nonchalance as he sat back with his glass.
    He watched his brother maneuver through the field of people, smiling cheerfully, clasping hands and kissing cheeks and occasionally gesturing to his outfit with a self-deprecating laugh; despite his earlier remark, the fact was, Rhy fit in effortlessly. As
he should
, Kell supposed.
    And yet, Kell loathed the greedy way the
ostra
eyed the prince. The women’s batting lashes held too little warmth and too much cunning. The men’s appraising looks now held too little kindness and too much hunger. One or two shot a glance toward Kell, a ghost of that same hunger, but none were brave enough to approach. Good. Let them whisper, let them look. He felt the strange and sudden urge to make a scene, to watch their amusement harden into terror at the sight of his true power.
    Kell’s grip tightened on his glass, and he was about to rise when he caught the edge of conversation from a nearby party.
    He didn’t mean to eavesdrop; the practice just came naturally. Perhaps the magic in his veins gave him strong ears, or perhaps he’d simply learned to tune them over the years. It became habit, when you were so often the topic of whispered debate.
    “… I could have entered,” said a nobleman, reclining on a hill of cushions.
    “Come,” chided a woman at his elbow, “even if you had the skills, which you do not, you’re too late by a measure. The roster has been set.”
    “Has it now?”
    Like most of the city, they were talking of the
Essen Tasch
—the Element Games—and Kell paid them little mind at first, since the
ostra
were usually more concerned with the balls and banquets than the competitors. And when they did speak of the magicians, it was in the way people talked of exotic beasts.
    “Well, of course, the list hasn’t been
posted
,” continued the woman in a conspiratorial tone, “but my brother has his methods.”
    “Anyone we know?” asked another man in an airy, unconcerned way.
    “I’ve heard the victor, Kisimyr, is in again.”
    “And what of Emery?”
    At that, Kell stiffened, his grip going knuckles-white on his glass.
Surely it is a mistake
, he thought at the same time a woman said, “
Alucard
Emery?”
    “Yes.
I’ve
heard he’s coming back to compete.”
    Kell’s pulse thudded in his ears, and the wine in his cup began to swirl.
    “That’s nonsense,” insisted one of the men.
    “You
do
have an ear for gossip. Emery hasn’t set foot on London soil in three years.”
    “That may be,” insisted the woman, “but his name is on the roster. My brother’s friend has a sister who is messenger to the
Aven Essen
, and she said—”
    A sudden pain lanced through Kell’s shoulder, and he nearly fumbled the glass. His head snapped up, searching for the source of the attack as his hand went to his shoulder blade. It took him a moment to register that the pain wasn’t actually his. It was an echo.
    Rhy.
    Where was Rhy?
    Kell surged to his feet, upsetting the things on the table as he scanned the room for the prince’s onyx hair, his blue coat. He was nowhere to be seen. Kell’s heart pounded in his chest, and he resisted the urge to shout Rhy’s name across the lawn. He could feel eyes shifting toward him, and he didn’t care. He didn’t give a damn about any of them. The only person in this place—in this
city
—he cared about was somewhere nearby, and he was in pain.
    Kell squinted across the too-bright field of Splendor. The sun lanterns were glaring overhead, but in the distance, the afternoon light of the open chamber tapered off into hallways of darker forest. Kell swore and plunged across the field, ignoring the looks from the other