“I don't know who you are,” Bronek says, “but I think you have something of mine.”

My hand automatically moves to my chest, feeling for the now-cold pendant. “It is no longer yours,” I say. “You threw it away, along with your heart.”

His eyes widen briefly before returning to their glare. “How do you know about that?”

“I know everything,” I say. “I saw it all. You showed me. Or at least your memory did.”

“I see,” he says guardedly. “And you came to Heldra looking for me? Why? Did Mulogo send you?”

“No,” Garreg says, moving next to me. “I did.” His body quivers as it reverts back to its original form. Bronek blinks at him and then laughs.

“Marvelous!” he crows, looking pleased. “A friendly reunion with the wretched sorcerer's stone lackey. I have wondered about you over the years. Why have you come, if not on your master's behalf?”

I'm not prepared for this. I have no idea what to say to convince this monster to give up the hatred he's held for hundreds of years. “Do the Noble-lords know they serve a Soulless?”

He smiles. “Of course not. I've gained this seat of power with lies and manipulation, a specialty of my kind. My long existence has allowed me to seek out ways to hide what I am when necessary. That, however, shall remain my own special secret.”

“But why?” I demand, angered by his deceit. “Why take part in hunting others like you?”

His glare returns. “They are nothing like me. They are animals, unable to control themselves, creating more Soulless without thought. I take what they do not deserve.”

I frown, realizing he doesn't just take their minds when they're enslaved. “You take the souls they've stolen?”

“Why not? They should belong to me anyway. I am the first Soulless, after all.”

This is how he continues to feed strength to Mulogo. Bronek takes the souls from his slaves, which then follow the link he has with the sorcerer. Bronek has no idea he is empowering the madman who created him.

“You still haven't told me why you've come,” Bronek says. “I suggest you hurry. I have special guests who will be arriving any moment and I'd like to dispose of you before they come.”

Syndel and the other girls are not potential wives but victims. Bronek may not need to take souls, but I'm certain he does it anyway out of sheer pleasure. Not tonight. I take a step toward the prince. “I'm here to stop you.”

Bronek seems amused by my declaration. “You? A pathetic human with nothing but a stone puppet to help you?”

“I'm not a puppet,” Garreg declares.

I reach beneath my tunic and grasp the pendant, pulling the chain over my head. The amber is still cold, and without it around my neck, the world around me seems darker. “And I'm not a human.”

Bronek looks from one of us to the other, the veins at his temples twitching. “You're a Soulless.” He cocks his head to one side. “And you've not taken a soul. Too cowardly?”

“The cowards are the ones who give in. The ones who let tragedy warp their humanity.”

The red around Bronek's eyes flash. “What do you know about tragedy?” he hisses. “I lost everything. No, it was taken from me. Why shouldn't others suffer as I have?”

I shake my head, knowing this isn't going well at all. “You have to stop or he will win.”

Bronek blinks at me, saying nothing else. I can tell he knows of whom I speak. The one who took his tragedy and twisted it into something nearly impossible to escape.

The door of the chamber suddenly opens and four human guards escort a dozen young ladies, all dressed in fine silks and jewels, inside. I immediately seek out Syndel. Our eyes meet.

The High-Lord is Bronek! I say with my mind, hoping she can hear me. He's going to kill one of you!

She doesn't respond. The guards, taking no notice of me or Garreg, bow to the High-Lord and leave the room.

“Ah, ladies,” Bronek says, his demeanor changing completely as he walks toward them. “I welcome you here with all my heart. One of you may become my long-awaited bride, but first—”

He stops in front of Syndel, his eyes widening. She won't need to persuade him. Her aura will do that for her. I open my mouth to warn her out loud, but her voice stops me.

Let it be.

Confused, I look from her to Bronek, seeing something I never expected. There is hunger in his eyes, but not the hunger of a Soulless about to devour a bright soul. It's deeper; more personal. I imagine it's the same way I look at her.

“The rest of you may leave,” he says, not taking his eyes from Syndel's face. The other girls seem disappointed as they move back to the door. If only they knew they've just escaped a monster. Bronek moves closer to Syndel, stopping inches from her.

“I know you,” he says, his voice hushed. He lifts a hand and gently strokes her hair. “Your hair is different, but I would know you anywhere.” Leaning even closer, touching his forehead to hers, he whispers, “I thought I'd lost you, Lenna.”

His hand, still entangled in her hair, pulls her forward until their lips meet.

My insides explode in fiery madness. I move to break them apart, but Garreg holds me back. “Wait,” he hisses.

I glare at him, fuming. Did he know this would happen? Is this the secret part Syndel was to play? Tricking Bronek into thinking she's his long-dead love? Then I recognize how perfect it is. She may be the only person who can convince him to stop taking souls. That doesn't make me hate it any less.

The two of them pull apart, both smiling. “How is this possible?” he asks, cupping her face in his hands. “How is it you're here?”

“Your love brought me back,” Syndel says, her voice soothing and tender. It's the way I've longed to hear her speak to me. “But I cannot stay.”

“What do you mean?” he asks.

She steps back, out of his reach, casting her eyes downward. “I know what you've done, Bronek. What you've become.”

Horror fills the prince's eyes as if he's just realized it all for himself. “I . . . I can explain. It wasn't my fault.”

“You intended to save me,” she goes on, “but when that failed, you discarded the very thing that kept me close to you.”

He lifts a hand to his chest—to the emptiness where his heart once beat. “The pain was too great,” he mutters. “But removing it only made things worse.”

“That's why you must stop,” Syndel says. “It's the only way we can be together in the end.”

His eyes widen. “You mean I'm not damned for eternity? Even after all I've done?”

“We both know who is responsible,” Syndel says. “He can be defeated, but only if you're brave enough to fight against what you are.”

He begins to pace, murmuring words that make little sense. When he stops, he looks at me, his eyes narrowing. “This is a trick, isn't it? I know Lenna is lost to me forever.” His gaze shifts to Syndel. “You are not my Lenna.”

Syndel flinches, but her face remains calm. “I am not Lenna, but the things I have said are true. You can be with her again.”

“LIES!” Bronek bellows, his hands tightening into fists. “I am a monster who cannot die. Lenna is beyond my reach. Why are you really here?”

“We need your help,” I say, drawing his attention back to me. “Mulogo's power grows every time you take a soul. He's been using you all this time, just like he did when he took your soul in the first place. The stronger he gets, the closer we are to destruction. Haven't you seen what's been happening outside the city? The lands are dying. In order to defeat him, we must weaken him first. But that part is up to you.”

He turns his back to us, pacing, muttering. After several long seconds, he stops and faces me. His eyes, still narrowed, search mine, seeking truth in what I've said. “Your words are sincere, I'll give you that, but they are pointless. I'm too far gone to stop now. I need them.”

“Then you will remain a tool of his evil for eternity.”

I can see that my words have left him conflicted, which is better than outright opposition. The pendant in my hand suddenly grows warm again. I glance at it, wondering if it's trying to tell me something. In my mind, I see a flash of the prince's face as he was before his tragedy, reminding me of his caring personality, his generosity. The love he had for his Lenna. Each emotion flows through me. I know what to do. Taking a step closer to the prince, I hold out my hand, offering the amber pendant.

“Take it,” I say.

Bronek's eyes dart to it warily, as if expecting it to lash out as punishment for his betrayal. After several seconds, he lifts the chain from my hand, slowly clasping his fingers around the pendant. A quick gasp flees from his mouth, his eyes stare ahead at nothing.

“I . . . I see her,” he utters, his voice cracking. “Lenna . . .”

Then a voice speaks aloud, soft and gentle.

“Dearest Bron, I'm waiting.”

Whether from a ghost or merely the voice of a distant memory, it penetrates us all. Bronek shudders, his face pale and drawn, as if all the energy within him has been drained. He shoves the pendant back into my hands and staggers away, reaching for the nearest chair to regain his balance. “No more, please.”

I'm not sure if it worked. Putting the chain back over my head, I face the prince. “Will you help us?”

His head turns in my direction, yet his eyes are distant, looking past me at something only he can see. “I don't know how.”

“But you do,” I counter. “You've done it before. Remember the boy picking mushrooms in the forest. You spared him.”

He frowns, shaking his head. “Not out of kindness or compassion. I don't know what stopped me from taking his soul.”

“The reason doesn't matter. All you need to do is remember the moment when you made the choice not to.”

His frown fades, his expression softens. “I remember.” He looks at Garreg. “You asked me if taking the boy's soul would be something Lenna would want.”

“Yes. What would she want?” the stone man asks.

A smile spreads across Bronek's face, brightening his red-rimmed eyes the same way an aura might. One hand moves to his chest. “I feel it,” he whispers. “It's beating again, though it's so far away.” He looks at each of us and, without another word, drops to the floor. Syndel hastens to him, crouching at his side.

“Is he dead?” I ask, though I know a Soulless cannot die.

“No,” Syndel says, standing up straight again. “Asleep. He will dream of her until they're together again.”

I don't understand how that will be possible, but keep the query to myself.

“We should go,” Garreg says.

We leave the chamber, but pause in the hall, staring. Each of the Soulless guards lies on the floor, sleeping just like Bronek. With no time to wonder, we make our way down the tower. The place is in a panic. More Soulless guards are lying motionless on the floor and Noble-lords are scurrying around trying to figure out why, making it easy for us to slip out unnoticed.

The night is cold. Though I wish to leave the city now, Garreg suggests we stay until morning. The suite at the inn is still ours. As we approach the building, Garreg hangs behind.

“This is where we must part ways,” he says. “Mulogo will soon realize what has happened.”

“Why can't you stay and help us?” I ask.

“Because I'm a product of Mulogo's power. I cannot fight against him.”

I'm surprised by how much this troubles me. It seems the little stone man has brought us nothing but trouble, yet it's only been for our good. “What will happen to you if we succeed in defeating Mulogo?”

“You mean when you succeed? I don't know.”

I think we both know what the answer might be, though saying it out loud seems cruel. Defeating Mulogo means ending his power and anything connected to it. I hold out my hand to the little stone man. “Thank you for all you've done.”

He looks at my hand for several seconds before putting out his own. We shake. “Good luck,” he says.

He faces Syndel, his golden eyes shining. Though neither of them says a word, I can tell something is shared between them. Nodding slightly, the stone man steps to the street and walks away.