by Sara Holland
Brekken is the one who answers. “Because you were Solarians,” he says, very gently. He glances at me and back to Taya. “There are those who hunt your people for their magic. And you would have been easier to find together than apart.”
She shakes her head, subdued. “Still.” The hurt is fresh in her voice, swimming right under the surface.
“The social workers, do you remember their names?” I ask. Maybe I can cross-reference them with the Heiress’s list of hosts, figure out who took Terran and where.
Taya shakes her head again. “But … the guy social worker was short, with curly hair and glasses. And the lady—I remember her because she had different-colored eyes. One was brown and one was green.”
This time, it’s not just my breath that stops. Everything stops.
My heart, my thoughts, the ground under me. For a second, the world shorts out in buzzy silence, the snow on an ancient TV screen.
Because she just described my mother. Marcus and Mom.
“And then what happened?” I ask, even though I already know the answer, deep in my bones, in every cell of my body.
I’m still holding Taya with one hand, but I reach out for Brekken with the other, feeling like I might float away if I don’t hold on to both of them.
Nate never looked like the rest of us, not stocky and broad-shouldered like Dad or freckled and brown-haired like Mom. He was slender, graceful, with blond hair and dark eyes and a mischievous grin. Mom used to call him her little changeling.
So many different threads are tangled together here. Mercenaries. A secret trade in magic and souls. Corruption and stolen children.
It really wasn’t my fault.
Time has slowed down. My heart crashes against my ribs as Brekken wraps his arm around my shoulder. Cool, familiar—it should be reassuring. But I can feel the tension in him, hear his intake of breath a couple of seconds after my own when the realization hits him too.
“The man took me,” Taya says. “He took me to the foster family. I remember he was nice, even though I was terrified.” Pain colors her voice; she looks down. “And the woman took my brother.” She looks up at me then, her eyebrows drawing together. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to have a heart attack, Maddie.”
Her fingers move around my wrist, playfully checking my pulse before braiding together with mine again. But I can’t laugh. I can’t think. I can’t breathe.
“There’s a word in Solarian,” Brekken says softly. “Nahteran. It means ‘soldier.’ ”
“I don’t understand.” Taya looks back and forth between us, her brow furrowed, her eyes lingering on my face. “What does that have to do with …”
“Nate,” I whisper, more of a breath than a word.
I can tell the moment she understands. I can tell because her hand goes rigid in mine, her spine snaps straight, and her eyes fly wide. They drill into me.
“You don’t mean—”
“We have the same brother.”
24
Even as I speak the words, my heart reacts faster than my mind. Something like helium gathers in my chest, and Taya’s eyes are on mine, wide as coins, and I feel like we’re on the edge of something, but my thoughts come in bright, sharp fragments.
Mom and Marcus, working together to save Solarians imprisoned by the magic trade.
A pair of social workers who looked just like them, collecting Taya and Terran after their parents died, splitting them up and shuffling them off, apart but safe.
Mom on the list of hosts for kidnapped Solarians.
Taya, nineteen, just like Nate would be.
Mom’s little changeling. My older brother who I loved more than anyone in the world. Who never looked anything like Mom or Dad or me, with his fine blond hair and dark eyes.
My older brother, whose body we never found.
And the jacks that seem to be almost buzzing against my collarbone.
“He isn’t dead,” Taya says with certainty. “I would feel it if he were.”
My first instinct is to be bitter. Tell her you don’t know that. But though I open my mouth, I find that nothing comes out; the words have dried up.
All at once I understand the metaphors I’ve heard all my life and always written off as cheesy. A thing with feathers, sure. A baby bird fallen out of the nest, unmoving for so long you thought for sure it was toast, stirring and blinking an eye. Hopping to its feet, ruffling those feathers, and improbably—impossibly—taking flight.
Part of me never fully believed that Nate was dead. And Mom knew! She knew this whole time. That he was adopted. A Solarian. And that he didn’t die that night, but was kidnapped. That he might be alive.
I don’t get the chance to put any of this into words, though, because a voice floats down the hall behind us.
“Innkeeper,” one of the guards calls. “Are you all right?”
Footsteps accompany it, not yet around the bend.
Brekken lets go of me to reach for a sword that isn’t there. He swears under his breath. Taya has gone still as I leap to my feet.
“I’m all right!” I call loudly, hoping I sound casual.
I turn back to the other two, wild hope and fear playing a game of tug-of-war with my heart. Nate might be alive. Alive!
But before we look for him, I have to free Brekken and Taya. I need to deal with the Silver Prince, after playing right into his hands for so long. Even knowing, now, that he’s willing to kill.
“I’ll get help,” I tell Brekken and Taya in a whisper. “I’ll come back for you—”
“Don’t worry about us.” Taya surprises me with the intensity in her voice. “We’ll be fine.”
She reaches out again and squeezes my hand once before getting up and returning to her cell, pulling the unlocked door closed. The hope in my chest burbles a few notes of birdsong.
“You still have allies here, Maddie,” Brekken says. “I’ve heard what the delegates say about the Silver Prince for years now, even the Byrnisians. They’re frightened of him. They’ll stand by you if you take back control.”
“Either that, or they’ll side with him because they’re scared.” There’s a tremble in my voice, and I struggle to say the next words. “But I’ll try.”
Because there’s no other choice.
I don’t say that last part, but we all know it’s true. It hangs in the air between us as Brekken turns and walks back to his cell.
“The guards haven’t come back here yet,” Taya says. “They have to eventually, unless they plan to starve us, I guess.”
“Taya.” My voice comes out soft and anguished. “I … I’m sorry.”
She is my friend. And a Solarian. A week ago, the idea would have sounded insane. And I can still feel the place in my gut where the hatred for Solarians used to live, a hot, bitter engine driving me. But now it’s hollowed out, dried up. All I can think about is fixing this so we can find Nate.
I’ve failed both of them so badly, but at least Brekken made his own choices that led him into an underground cell. Taya had no idea what she was walking into. Yet somehow she’s still smiling at me through the bars, and suddenly all I want to do in the world is pull her out and take her somewhere safe and far away.
“Stay here for now,” I whisper instead. “I’ll try to draw the guards away, and then you and Brekken can escape.”
Another question is lined up on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t want to ask it, not now when she still looks so vulnerable. But I know I need to.
“The change,” I whisper hesitantly. “Do you think you could control it, now that you know the truth?” The beast’s claws and strength might come in handy once they have to run.
Something shutters behind her eyes. She shakes her head. “It comes out when I’m angry or scared. I’m not in the driver’s seat here.”
I think of the montage scene in every superhero movie I’ve ever seen, where her powers switch on once the hero accepts herself. I think of Dad’s advice, why give the scary thoughts so
much room? But I know it’s not that easy. I know you can’t always get away from the dark things. I know how they follow you, invade every thought.
“It’s okay to be angry,” I whisper. “You’re right to be angry.”
I double back and unlock Brekken’s cell, then return to the juncture, hoping to sweet-talk the guards into skipping away for five minutes. I try for a neutral look, hoping they don’t notice my change of outfit or the missing keys, and then I realize someone else is standing in the passageway to the main part of the inn. My stomach drops.
It’s the Silver Prince.
Now that I know what he’s capable of, it’s hard to imagine a time and then I wasn’t afraid of him. My whole body reacts, skin tightening, muscles go rigid, heart kicks up into a drumroll.
The guards move to flank him as I enter the juncture. He stands tall, filling almost the whole tunnel. His pale eyes are trained on me.
“Maddie,” he says, pleasant enough, but there’s an undertone of ice in the word that shoots mirroring cold through my bones. “I see you’ve found our prisoners. And my guard’s missing keys.”
The keys are closed in my fist. My arm goes leaden. I don’t remember what standing naturally feels like, what it should look like.
“What?” I say, scrunching up my face in pretend confusion. “What do you mean?”
I don’t like the Silver Prince’s smile. It says he hears my lie, but doesn’t care, because he has me backed into a corner. Dead end.
“So, what should we do with the prisoner?” he asks.
More goose bumps rip out across my bare shoulders and arms. I walk toward the Prince and his guards—even though my instincts tell me to run the other way. If I can get out of the tunnels into the main inn, in the company of others, I can figure out some way to get the guards out of the juncture. But here there’s nothing but stone and darkness.
“I haven’t decided,” I say as I walk, trying not to blink too much, trying not to show that I’m lying. “Let me talk to Graylin and see what he thinks. I’ll let you know …”
My stream of babble dries up, because the Silver Prince moves into my path. Blocking my way out. I wish I could call back to Brekken and draw strength from his voice, but I don’t dare.
“I don’t savor the idea of putting how we deal with the soldier in the hands of another Fiorden,” the Prince says.
His tone is still light, conversational, but his eyes cut through me. I feel naked, like he can see through my skin and flesh straight to all my weakness and lies.
But I lift my chin, thinking of Brekken and Taya hidden down the tunnel behind me. If I fail in this, what will happen to them?
“Willow, then,” I say. “Is that acceptable?”
The Prince laughs, a cruel sound. “A woman rotting away here for so long she doesn’t remember what it is to be Byrnisian? No, I don’t think so.”
The hostility in his voice is less disguised now. That can’t be good. I let the hurt I feel show on my face, so that the rage doesn’t peek through. If I can’t talk my way around him, maybe I can get him to dismiss me. Convince him that I really am the child out of my depth that he apparently thinks I am.
“I don’t know what to do,” I say softly, and it’s not difficult to let the edge of tears in. “I need to talk to Graylin and Willow.”
I take a step forward, but the Prince doesn’t move out of my way.
“Excuse me,” I say, holding the Silver Prince’s gaze. Willing my eyes to communicate: I am still the Innkeeper. Let me pass.
“Madeline,” he says, a smile on his face that doesn’t make it to his voice. “You must know I can’t let you leave.”
Panic blankets my mind in cold, white fog. I try to dart forward, but two of the guards grab my arms, holding me tight enough to bruise. I kick and yank at them, but it’s immediately clear it’s no use.
“Carve another cell,” the Prince says to the guard to his right. “Throw her in—”
But then I hear the clang of metal behind me, and Brekken is out and on the Silver Prince like a whirlwind.
I’ve never seen him fight before, and it’s transfixing.
Broken glass—the lantern?—flashes in his hands as the Silver Prince’s sword comes out. Brekken swings away from him at the last moment, though, pivoting in an instant toward me and the guards.
They’re caught by surprise—blood flashes; someone cries out. Abruptly, the grip on my arms is gone and I drop, lunging out of the way as Brekken pulls one of their swords from its hilt and spins around, getting in between me and them.
“Maddie, run!” he yells, but the Silver Prince is stalking toward me, murder in his eyes.
Then I see something from the other end of the tunnel, something that makes me freeze with instinctive fear.
Taya in monster form is quick and fluid as blue fire. She bursts into the light and leaps clear over Brekken and the guards, over me, going for the Silver Prince. Her claws catch on his shoulder and he bends backward, the two remaining guards leaping out of the way. One runs for the juncture; one lunges at Taya and gets a slashed thigh for his trouble. He goes down, but then the Silver Prince is rounding on her with his sword. Taya snarls and raises a blue paw, catching the blade on her claws. Sparks light up the dark.
The spoon is lifeless, dead in my hands. Nothing happens when I try to call on the wind again. But then I remember I have more magic. The bracelet I found in the abandoned Solarian closet. It sits heavy on my wrist, but when I close my eyes and concentrate, I can feel the magic, a subtle current, but alive and dangerous.
I don’t know what kind of magic lives inside it. But I squeeze my eyes shut tighter and will it to come loose.
Heat and light burst all around me. I open my eyes to see flames exploding outward from my palms. For a heartbeat, everyone stops fighting. Brekken, Taya, the Silver Prince, and the three guards, our seven faces made demonic by the fiery light.
Brekken leaps out of the fire’s path, light as a fox, but the guard after him isn’t so lucky. As he lunges for Brekken, the fire swarms up over him like a living thing and he goes down screaming. Horror freezes my mind.
Then the Silver Prince cries out a word in a language I don’t understand. He raises his hands toward the ceiling, sweat dripping from his temples.
Rain materializes out of nowhere at the other end of the hallway and blasts into my face. It doesn’t kill the fire, but steam fills the hall with a hiss. I reach out, trying to find the wall, when the rain hardens into hail. The impact, a million little blows on my skin, makes me lose focus and the fire dries up. I cry out, whirl around, and throw an arm in front of my eyes, but that’s no respite. The rain beats down on my bare shoulders, cutting through my thin cami. The water collects, white, on the stone floor. It forces me to step back toward the juncture.
A high war cry cuts through the fog, and a moment later Brekken barrels out, a broken-ended iron rod in his hands like a crowbar.
Adrenaline and hope drive me, making my limbs move seemingly of their own accord. Shielding my eyes with one hand, I stand and face the Prince through the steam.
Flames spring from my outstretched fist, lapping the juncture and bathing us all in greenish-blue light. I see Brekken kneecapping a guard in one smooth motion, sending him down. Taya fights the Prince in the background, trying to drive him toward my flame. My heart thunders in my ears; it takes all my will to keep the flames up, but I do. Somewhere deep below all the fear, my heart thrills at it. Magic.
I see out of the corner of my vision that the north wall seems to be swelling, a dark, shiny surface turning in places to frothy white. At first, I can’t understand what I’m seeing, and then when I do—it’s water, a wall of water—it’s already crashing down on us. The flames die with a hiss and an explosion of fog, blinding me. Icy-cold water hits me at the waist and I stagger into Brekken, terror like I felt at the lake crashing down on me all over again. His hand finds my wrist but then is torn loose.
“Hang on,” I hear him gasp, an
d then he’s gone.
I call out for Brekken, but the fog has already swallowed him up. It’s in my burning eyes, my lungs. I grab at the wall and hang on, the current tearing at my legs.
“You’re not enough, Maddie!”
The Silver Prince’s voice emanates through the fog. It’s terrifying, like he’s inside my head. Tears streak down my face, but I instinctively don’t make a sound.
“Havenfall deserves someone strong at its head,” he calls out. “Power wants power, Maddie Morrow, and you’re not enough!”
Even though I know he’s just trying to bait me into doing something stupid, anger rises to the surface. “Oh yeah?” I call back, trying to mirror his coldness, but my voice shakes. “Why’s that?”
“You’re weak,” he almost sings, everywhere and nowhere all at once. “Under your rule, the inn will fall and everything will be chaos. Let me take over and remake this place into what it ought to be. Not just a crossroads. A throne room. For all the Realms.”
“Fat chance,” I spit, pulling my dagger from my waistband. I wish I could send more flames his way, but my stolen magic is spent, the bracelet cold and dead on my wrist. “Havenfall isn’t about power, it’s about peace.”
“It can be whatever the Innkeeper wants it to be. But only if he is strong enough to seize it.”
I can’t see him, but I can tell from his voice the Silver Prince is smiling.
“It’s not mine to keep or surrender.” I know I’m rising to the bait, but fury pushes my words out. “Havenfall doesn’t belong to me. I belong to it. We all do.”
He laughs. “A pretty thought, Maddie. But I will have the omphalos.” The next words he speaks are louder, closer. “I would offer you a place at my side, but I think that would be more trouble than you’re worth.”
“Screw you—”
But then another sound fills the tunnels. An unearthly howl of wind, growing louder over the course of a heartbeat until it’s upon us, slamming me against the wall and clearing the fog instantaneously away.
