I struggle against the chains, expecting another lash to catch me in the back, but none comes. I manage to brace my feet against the wall, then twist against my bindings to see what I can of the courtyard.
Everyone has collapsed. Each person lies in a heap. Some have collapsed on top of each other.
None move.
I search the wall for Tycho and find him twenty feet away, hanging from his chains, unconscious.
Or dead.
My breathing is ragged for an entirely new reason. I use the chains to lever myself up the wall, until I’m high enough to unhook my shackles. It takes longer than it should, and my arms keep threatening to give out. Once there, I brace against the hook and pant with exhaustion. Every breath, every movement, causes pain in a new way. I lost count of how many times they struck me, but my back feels laid open.
I unwind the chain, then drop to the ground.
A bad choice. My injured leg gives out, and I stagger, falling to my knees. My vision goes hazy and I need to shake my head and blink.
I touch a hand to my side, where the lash curved around. The wound is deep and bleeding freely.
Rhen is not far off, collapsed on the cobblestones like the others. He is breathing and uninjured. He could be sleeping.
What happened?
I can wonder later. I need to free Tycho. I need to escape.
When I make it to his spot on the wall, I discover he’s breathing, too, but it’s a labored wheeze, and his back is a crisscrossed mash of bleeding lines. Tears soak his cheeks. He vomited on himself at some point. I try to reach high enough to free him, but my back protests and I cry out, sagging against the wall.
I try once more and fail. My vision goes hazy again, and I shake my head to clear it.
A shout goes up from somewhere in the castle, then another.
I redouble my efforts, but I’m too weak to lift his weight enough to pull the chains free.
A shadow appears beside me, hands closing on Tycho’s waist to help lift. “Here,” says a soft female voice. “I’ll help you.”
Lia Mara. The girl from Syhl Shallow. My thoughts are so addled and my eyes are blurry and I wonder if I’m hallucinating. “How—how did you—?”
“Hurry!” she says. “The guards in the castle did not collapse.”
I hurry. I grit my teeth and leap for the bar, levering myself up the way I freed myself. Sweat drips into my eyes, and my muscles tremble, threatening to give way, but with Lia Mara supporting Tycho’s weight, I’m able to twist his chains and brace against the wall. I need one inch. I throw every ounce of strength into it.
His chain clears the hook. Lia Mara tries to ease him down, but Tycho all but collapses to the ground. I nearly fall right on top of him. My fingers dig into the cobblestones, but I can’t move. My arms are twitching with fatigue, and my thoughts loosen and drift.
Lia Mara is on her knees in front of me, her hair glowing red in the torchlight. “You have to run.”
I can’t run. I can’t even stand.
“Go,” I say to her.
Her eyes go from me to Tycho to the castle.
“Go,” I say again. My voice breaks. “You won’t find peace here.”
The shouts reach the courtyard, and then guardsmen and castle servants are flooding through the doors, pouring into the open space. Lia Mara slips into the shadows.
“Find Healer Noah!” a woman shouts, followed by a man yelling, “Secure the princess!”
“No!” Harper’s voice calls across the courtyard, high and panicked. “Where is he? Where’s Rhen?”
“Here!” shouts a guardsman.
Suddenly Harper is there, crouching over the prince. “Rhen,” she says. “Rhen, can you hear me?” She picks up his hand. “He’s breathing,” she says. “Noah, he’s breathing.”
I blink and Noah is beside her. “Strong pulse,” he says, a hand against Rhen’s neck. “Seems like a syncopal episode.”
“A … what?”
“He fainted.” The healer moves to Dustan’s prone body, lying just beside Rhen, then presses a hand to his neck. “They all did.” He sounds confused. “Lay them all flat,” he calls to the dozens of guards and servants now swarming the courtyard. “Jake! Make sure they have an open airway.”
Harper looks around. “So they all just …”
Her eyes lock with mine.
I have no idea what I look like, but it must be as bad as it feels, because her face pales and she locks a hand on Noah’s arm.
“Grey,” she breathes.
I blink again, and she’s on her knees in front of me.
“Oh, Grey,” she whispers. Her hand finds mine. Tears glisten on her lashes. “Grey, I had no idea.”
To my right, one of the fallen guardsmen is beginning to move, shaking his head vigorously.
I brace a hand against the ground. I need to run.
“They need to get to the infirmary,” says Noah. He’s crouched by Tycho, and his voice is tight with fury. “I think this kid is in shock.”
“They’re waking up!” calls a voice from across the courtyard.
I can’t be taken to the infirmary.
Harper’s eyes meet mine.
“Please.” The word sounds like it’s been ripped from my throat.
She doesn’t need me to say any more. She stands up and starts giving orders. “Carry the prince to his chambers! Boil water and have warm compresses prepared. Take any unconscious guardsmen to the infirmary. Jake! I need you.”
Her brother comes to her side, pushing through the crowd of people. “Harper, what—” He breaks off as he sees me and Tycho lying in the shadows beside the castle. A long breath escapes him. “Holy—”
“Jake,” says Harper in a rushed whisper. “I need you to get them out of here.”
His expression hardens right up. “No way. I get him out of here and we’re never getting home.”
“Look at what Rhen—look at what he—” Her voice breaks. “You think you’ll be going anywhere if he gets a chance to finish the job?”
Jake’s eyes shift to me, and while his expression is grim, he is not kind and merciful like his sister. He drops to the ground beside me, putting himself at eye level.
“If I help you, I want your word that you’ll take me and Noah home as soon as you can.”
“Yes,” I grind out.
“Swear it,” he says. “Swear an oath.”
“I swear it.” I have no idea how I’ll keep this oath, but I’ll swear, and willingly, if it means getting me and Tycho out of here. “I swear to you that I will return you as soon as I am able.”
“Done.” He stands. “Harper. What do you want me to do?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
LIA MARA
Chaos reigns in the courtyard.
From the shadows, I watch and wait.
No one notices the two men carrying Grey and the boy out of the courtyard while everyone else is carried into the castle.
No one notices the small wagon being driven from the dark side of the stables, a brown-skinned man clucking softly to the horses.
No one notices Princess Harper staring after the wagon as it disappears into the woods.
And, finally, no one notices me slipping onto the back of a silver palfrey and vanishing into the woods myself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
GREY
I wake looking into a fire, lying facedown on a pile of soft blankets. I have no recollection of sleeping, and I recognize nothing. The walls are paneled wood, and the fireplace is small. This is not a room in the palace.
I inhale sharply, and every wound on my body protests. I bite back a cry.
“The last time I stitched you up, you ignored me and went off to fight a monster.” Noah’s voice is low, speaking from the opposite side of the room. “I think this might slow you down a bit more.”
I fight to turn my head. Noah sits curled in a wooden chair in the corner nearest the door, a steaming mug balanced between his hands. To his left is a wide
pallet bed. Tycho’s face is buried in blankets, but I recognize the shock of blond hair and the lightly muscled arm that’s fallen to rest on the ground.
Even from here, I can see the stripes of red that decorate his back. My eyes flinch away.
My fault.
Another man lies on the opposite side of the pallet, but all I can see are his boots. It must be Jacob.
I have no idea where we are, but at present, I do not care. I lift a hand to rub at my eyes, and even that hurts in ways I do not expect. “The lash marks required stitching?”
“A few of them did. Tycho’s were more superficial, but not by much. I think they went easier on him.” His quiet voice is thick with disgust.
“You are angry.”
“You bet I’m angry. I know things are … different here, but it doesn’t matter. War and torture are two different things.”
I don’t disagree with him. After everything Lilith did, this feels intensely personal—and somehow more humiliating. My hand flexes on the blanket. On the topic of humiliation, my body has needs.
“Noah,” I say. “I need …”
“What? Oh.” He uncurls from the chair.
Standing takes nearly all my strength, even with Noah hooking his hands under my arms to help lift.
“We have to go outside,” he says. “You can lean on me.”
I don’t want to, but after a few steps, my ears are ringing and my vision goes spotty, so I do. We slip down a short hallway and out a door. The air is cool and crisp, both a relief and an assault on my bare back. Sunrise is a purple promise on the horizon. The hour is early, so Noah eases the door closed behind us. A stretch of grass leads to a small barn, bright in the lingering moonlight.
In a flash, I recognize where we are. The last time I was here, it was the dead of winter, with snow blanketing everything in white.
The Crooked Boar. The inn that offered shelter to Rhen and Harper. The inn where everything changed.
I rub at my eyes again.
He leads me to a small copse of trees. “Do you want me to stand with you?” says Noah. “Or do you want privacy?”
Right now I don’t care, but I appreciate that he’s allowing me a moment of dignity. “I can stand,” I say, though I’m not entirely sure. He moves away, though only far enough to lean against the inn and avert his eyes. When I’m finished, he’s back at my side without my asking.
“You are being kind,” I say to him. “I do not think I deserve it.”
“When I became a doctor, I swore an oath to help people in need.” He lets me lean on him again. “Whether they deserve it or not.”
We approach the door, but I hesitate. Even here, in this innocuous space, the thought of going back into a closed-up room makes my pulse speed up. “I would like to sit outside,” I say.
I expect Noah to refuse, but he changes course to help me to the bench beside the back wall of the inn.
Once I’m sitting, I cannot get comfortable. I settle for bracing my forearms on my knees and gritting my teeth against the ache in my back. We sit in silence for the longest time, inhaling the dawn air.
“What exactly happened?” Noah finally says. “Why did they all drop like that?”
I remember the crack and the flash and the sudden silence.
I remember the panic in my head as I realized Rhen meant to flay Tycho to get to me.
It is a level of cruelty I never expected from him.
“I do not know,” I say.
“I know magic exists here,” says Noah, “but I have a hard time considering that until three dozen people drop like a rock.”
My shoulders tense.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” he says.
I say nothing.
“If it wasn’t you,” he continues, “it was Tycho, but he was unconscious and you weren’t. So.”
I stare at my hands. Blood has dried in the creases of my fingers, mixing with dirt and grit. “If you have figured it out, the prince will not be long behind.” I glance up at the grass and the stables. “We will have to move on. The innkeeper and his family are in danger by my presence.”
Though in truth, I have no idea where I will go, or where I will take Tycho.
“You’re the one everyone is looking for,” says Noah. “The magesmith.” He pauses. “The heir.”
He says it like he can’t quite believe it, but I nod.
“Did you know? That whole time you were trapped by the curse—did you know?”
“No.” My voice sharpens with anger, fed by the pain across my back. “You think I would have endured what I did if I’d known I had some shred of magic? Truly?”
He’s staring back at me impassively, and I sigh. My anger is not with Noah. “I did not find out until I took Lilith to the other side. She tried to bargain her freedom with the truth. Even then, I had no idea how to wield magic.” I pause. “I still have no idea how I did what I did in the courtyard.”
“When Lilith told you the truth … why did you run? Why did you leave?”
“Karis Luran had already spread doubt, the first day she came to Ironrose. I knew my existence would threaten the line of succession.” I pause. “I thought it would be easier if everyone thought I was dead.”
He’s quiet for a while. “Does this seem easier, Grey?”
I think of the shadows in Rhen’s eyes when we spoke in his chambers, the uneasy tension in his body when he told me about Silvermoon and everything that was at risk. “I did not consider that Rhen would fear magic more than he fears losing his throne. I should have.”
Noah snorts. “Fear makes people act in ways we’d never expect.”
“Indeed. He proved that last night.”
“Why didn’t you just tell him?” he says, but then he sighs without waiting for a reply. Anger threads between his words again. “Never mind. I saw what he was willing to do to get an answer, so I can only imagine what he would have done once he had it.”
“Emberfall is already in danger of civil war. An attack by Karis Luran may be imminent, especially now that Rhen holds her daughter prisoner.” I stop short as a flicker of memory breaks through the haze in my mind. Lia Mara beside me, helping to support Tycho’s weight as I release him from the wall. Did that happen? Did she escape? I cannot make the memory come together, and it likely does not matter anyway. I shake my head. “Rhen is trying to keep his country together.”
Noah says nothing. I shift my weight, wince, and put my arms back exactly as they were.
“You should return to Ironrose,” I say. “Now, while the hour is early. You will be seen as a traitor if you are found with me.”
“No.”
He speaks the word so simply. I turn my head to look at him, but his jaw is set, his arms tense where they rest against his knees.
“No?”
“I already told Jake that I’d rather be complicit in helping you escape than in what Rhen was doing.”
“Because of your oath?”
“Because it’s wrong.” He glances at me, and his voice is fierce. “Where I come from, people like me have a history with that … that kind of torture. I’m not going to be a part of it. I don’t care if that makes me a traitor.”
I study him. “Noah—there are already whispers of you possessing some magic of your own. If you flee with me …”
“Magic.” He snorts. “It’s medicine. It’s science. You know what’s funny? On the other side, I was judged for the color of my skin. For being attracted to men. Then I come here and no one cares about those things. Here, they question whether a healer is noble enough to be in love with a prince. They question how I can make a rash go away or break a fever.” He rolls his eyes.
A breeze sweeps between the barn and the inn, making me shiver. My heart begs for action, but I have no action to take—and I likely can’t do much anyway.
“How long will these take to heal?” I say.
“Weeks.” He pauses. “Maybe less. I’ll see if the innkeeper’s wife has some ginger and turmeric t
o bring down the inflammation.”
I lower my voice, though the hour is early and everyone is still asleep. “Why do they think we’re here?”
“They only saw me and Jake, and they know us. We said you and Tycho were injured in an assault on the road, and we needed to stop for the night.”
Innocent enough, and nothing that will arouse suspicion. I’ll need to find a shirt before anyone sees my back. “Tycho has … been through much,” I say. I glance over. “Did he wake last night?”
“Yes. Several times.” He pauses. “He kept asking if we got you out, too.”
I keep seeing the boy’s face in the loft at Worwick’s. I’ll keep your secret, Hawk.
I run a hand across my jaw. “I should never have involved him in this. In any of this.”
To my surprise, Noah laughs quietly. “You probably couldn’t have stopped him. That kid would follow you off a cliff.”
I inhale to answer, but thundering hoofbeats stop me. I’m on my feet before my body protests the motion.
“At least two horses,” I say to Noah. “Maybe more.” My hand automatically reaches for a blade, but I have nothing.
As if I could fight.
“Go inside,” I say. “Hide the others. I’ll take a horse. They’re looking for me.”
“You can’t ride! You can’t—”
“Go!”
We’re not going to be fast enough. The hoofbeats are nearly upon the property. Guardsmen will search the premises and tear through anyone who gets in their way.
A horse appears around the side of the inn, and I realize it’s all over. Of course they’ve sent men to prevent escape through the back. My hands are in fists. I can’t feel the pain in my back any longer.
“Grey?”
I freeze. It’s Harper—and behind her, on another horse, is Zo.
I don’t know what this means. I glance between them.
Harper swings down from the horse without hesitation. “I don’t have a lot of time. Rhen is meeting with his advisers. The Royal Guard will be looking for you at full light.” She fumbles with a saddlebag, then carries it across the clearing to me. Her expression is dark and full of concern. “Here, I brought you some clothes …” Her eyes flick down my body, and her voice trails off. “Oh, Grey.”
A Heart So Fierce and Broken Page 15
