by Amy Tintera
“And even putting aside the political benefits, it was still better for you,” August said, ignoring her last comment. “You’re not that pretty, and you’re Ruined. There’s still a chance you could develop some of those hideous marks and look even worse than you do now.”
“August,” Lucio said sharply. “There’s no need to be rude.”
“I’m never developing any Ruined marks,” Em said. “But if I’d known you found them so unattractive I would have wished for them harder.”
August muttered something she couldn’t hear.
She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table. “Let me ask you a question. Did you kidnap me because I betrayed you, or are you simply throwing a tantrum because I don’t like you?”
His sour expression hinted that it was the latter, and she laughed as she picked up her fork again.
“So what does Casimir have that he doesn’t?” George asked, amusement in his voice. August frowned at him.
Everything? She didn’t know where to start. She didn’t have words for Cas anymore. Kind and reasonable and thoughtful didn’t even seem enough now. She could spend an hour explaining everything about him—his willingness to stay with her, his strength when he decided to go back to the fortress, the way his lips turned up in a smile when he woke up with her by his side, the determination in his expression when he said he was going to kill Jovita, even though she knew, deep down, he would never do it—and no one here would even begin to understand him.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked up from her plate, letting the table see them. Let that be the answer to George’s question.
“Stop teasing our guest,” Lucio said.
“Prisoner,” she corrected.
George laughed and clapped Dante on the shoulder. “What about Dante, Emelina? Do you like the look of him? I’d really like to marry you off to one of my brothers. Dinner would be so much more interesting.”
“I will pass on that charming offer. You’ll all be dead once Olivia arrives anyway.”
Lucio’s wife paused with her fork halfway to her mouth and shot her husband a worried glance. He shook his head and patted her hand.
“Besides, I think my sister was right,” Em continued. “I shouldn’t have considered the alliance. You did nothing to save us when the Ruined were being exterminated. You only want our help when it’s convenient for you.”
George had the decency to shift in discomfort, but Lucio waved his hand dismissively. “We weren’t in a position to help then.”
“Sure you weren’t.”
Lucio changed the subject, and Em took a bite of her meat and tuned them out. What would have happened if she’d listened to Olivia and sent the warriors packing? She wouldn’t be trapped in the Olso castle, for one.
But she wasn’t sure they would have been able to successfully invade Sacred Rock. Or maybe the Vallos soldiers might have taken the city back when they attacked. The Ruined might have simply starved to death without the warrior’s supplies.
She was grateful to August for that, at least. Not that she would tell him that. His head was big enough without any help from her.
She looked up to see him watching her, and a smile spread across her face.
“What?” he asked.
“I’m just so grateful I don’t have to marry you. I’m feeling really smug about how smart I am.”
The table burst out laughing again.
THIRTY-EIGHT
“EM, WAKE UP!”
“Emelina! Wake up!”
“They’re attacking! We have to go!” Damian’s voice echoed in Em’s ears as she struggled to escape from sleep’s grasp. Damian. Why was Damian in her room?
She gasped, sitting straight up. August stood next to her bed, his panicked face illuminated by the lantern in his hand.
“Olivia’s here,” he said. “We need you to talk to her. Quickly, before she kills anyone else.”
“I told you,” Em said, glaring at him as she threw her blankets off.
“Would you just hurry? She won’t listen to anyone.”
She grabbed her pants and pulled them up her hips. August walked to the door, leaving her in darkness as she tore her nightshirt off and pulled on the shirt and jacket Lucio had provided her. She laced up her boots and ran into the hallway to meet August.
Screams greeted her. They drifted up from below and outside. She could smell smoke.
Damian reached for her hand. “Stay with me. Don’t drop my hand, no matter what.”
Em took in a shaky breath and closed her eyes until the image of Damian standing in front of her dissipated.
August grabbed her wrist, roughly tugging her to the stairs. They ran down them and through the hallway, to the people standing in the smoky main entryway. Lucio and his family. Three kids were huddled together in a clump, one of them clinging to George’s leg.
“Where is she?” Em asked Lucio.
“Outside. I’ll come with you,” Lucio said.
“That’s not a good idea.”
He shot her a look that clearly said he didn’t care. He ran to the door, warriors appearing from all sides to accompany them. Em wondered if they actually thought they could keep their king safe.
The cold air stung her face as the doors swung open. She gasped at the scene in front of her.
Well over a hundred Ruined were making their way to the castle. The drawbridge was still up, so many were swimming across the moat, bodies of warriors floating around them. The torches lining the castle gate were lit, casting a yellow glow over the water.
A good number of Ruined were already on land, holding torches and using their magic to fan the flames already licking up the side of the castle.
Olivia stood near the edge of the moat, her clothes dripping and plastered to her body. She must have been freezing.
“Olivia!” Em screamed, running toward her.
Olivia whirled around. Her face was pale, her lips blue, but her eyes were clear and furious.
“I’m fine,” Em said, grabbing her sister’s hand. “Please stop.”
Olivia looked Em up and down, as if confirming she was really fine. “Why?” she asked.
Em didn’t have a good response to that. Not one that would convince Olivia, anyway. “Let’s just go,” she said, holding Olivia’s hand tighter.
“Olivia.” Lucio’s voice was cautious as he approached them. “I’m King Lucio. I—”
“Oh, good.” Olivia dropped Em’s hand and narrowed her eyes at Lucio’s chest. She caught the king’s heart as it flew out of his chest. She tossed it over her shoulder. “I thought it was going to be harder to find him.”
Em pressed a hand to her mouth. Lucio’s body hit the ground with a thud. No one could say she hadn’t warned him.
Panic ignited around her as the warriors realized Lucio was dead. The yells from his brothers rose above the rest of the noise, and Em wanted to press her hands to her ears.
Olivia stepped forward, making a beeline for the rest of the royal family. Em grabbed her arm.
“Don’t,” she pleaded. The family scattered in all directions.
Olivia shook her off with a glare. “Are you serious? They kidnapped you. They betrayed us. Just like I told you they would.”
“We’re not going to accomplish anything this way.” Em’s heart pounded in her chest, the smoke starting to burn her nostrils. She didn’t want to do this again. She’d already escaped this once.
“I tried it your way,” Olivia said. “I’m done trying to reason with these people. This is the only thing they understand.” She raised her arm, pointing at something. Em followed her finger. George stopped in his tracks, his head separating from his body.
Then, everything exploded. One moment she was standing next to Olivia, and the next she was sprawled out on the grass near the castle. She tried to lift her head, but the world seemed to have tilted. Her ears were ringing.
Why was it so warm suddenly?
Why did her arm burn?
She blinked. Some
thing dripped into her eyes.
Nearby, someone gasped. It was August. He was in front of her, tearing his jacket off. He launched his body on top of hers.
The world suddenly shifted back into focus. The left side of her body was on fire.
August had the fire out as soon as she realized what was happening, and he scrambled to his feet, wincing as he scanned her body. She followed his gaze to her left arm, where the jacket had burned away, along with a good portion of her flesh.
She could barely feel the pain radiating up her arm. Panic and shock reverberated through her body instead.
August was still staring at her, and she wiped her good arm across her forehead. Blood.
“I warned you,” she said. The words came out sadder than she’d intended.
August’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
She jerked her head, indicating for him to run. He took off immediately, disappearing around the side of the castle.
Em stumbled to her feet, squinting in the smoke around her. What had caused that explosion?
“Em?” Olivia’s panicked voice broke through the screams around her. Olivia came to a stop in front of her, her eyes wide as she surveyed her sister. She was covered in dirt but appeared mostly unharmed.
“I’ll fix it.” Olivia jumped in front of her, carefully lifting Em’s injured arm up. She leaned over, trying to see the damage to Em’s back.
Em jerked her arm away. The pain was so severe suddenly that her vision turned black. “You’ll fix it?” Her voice sounded shrill.
“Calm down,” Olivia snapped. “I’ll heal you and find a Ruined to protect you until we’re done.”
“I wouldn’t need protection if you hadn’t marched in here and murdered their king!” She tried to focus on the bodies on the ground. The man dead on the ground near them had Ruined marks snaking up his arm. Em wasn’t the only one who needed protection.
“He had it coming.” Olivia waved her arm at something behind Em. Screams followed. Em didn’t turn to look at the dead bodies.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her chest. “Our mother used to say that, didn’t she? Everyone always had it coming. I guess she had it coming too.”
“Em!” Olivia gasped.
Her arm suddenly burned so intensely it was hard to stay upright. The edges of her vision went black again. “I knew you would come. I warned them that you would destroy everything in your path. And do you want to know the worst part? Part of me hoped you wouldn’t come at all.” The words flowed out of her mouth almost against her will. Olivia looked like Em had slapped her. “Part of me couldn’t bear the thought of you killing even more people. You killed children in there, Liv. Is that what a queen does?”
Olivia glared at her. “Who are you to lecture me about what a queen does? You’re only queen because I let you—”
Another blast rocked the ground, drowning out the words. Olivia was gone again. Em was no longer standing. Grass tickled her face. She tried to roll over onto her back, but it was too much work. Darkness was closing in on her, and it was much easier to let it sweep her away.
She closed her eyes.
THIRTY-NINE
THE MAN STOPPED short as soon as he spotted Aren and screwed his face into an expression that was probably supposed to mask his fear. He failed.
“Hi, Franco,” Violet said, stepping around Aren and Iria and walking closer to the house looming in front of them.
Aren touched his neck. Iria had informed him of the two new Ruined marks snaking up the side of his neck, making him far more conspicuous than he used to be. He didn’t mind.
“Come on,” Iria said quietly, slipping her hand into his. He let her pull him through the tall iron gate, closer to the scared man.
“Franco, this is Aren,” Violet said. “And Iria. Former warrior.”
Franco looked between them. “You brought me a Ruined and an Olso warrior. You shouldn’t have, Violet.” One side of his mouth turned up.
“I also brought you two king’s guards and a message from King Casimir,” Violet said, pointing to Mateo and Ric, walking the horses through the gate behind them.
Franco turned and jerked his head toward the house. “Come on in.”
Aren hesitated for a moment, unsure if he meant all of them, but Violet motioned for him and Iria to follow.
Three children crowded around the door as they approached. They all stared at Aren.
The older girl and boy stepped back, but the younger boy tilted his chin up, mouth hanging open.
“What kind are you?” he asked.
“Bruno,” Franco said sharply. “Don’t be rude.”
“It’s fine,” Aren said, and found that he meant it. The boy was staring at him with interest, not fear.
“Introduce yourself first,” Franco said to the boy.
“I’m Bruno,” he said.
“Aren. I ruin the body.”
Bruno’s eyes got wider. “That’s the best one!”
“Thank you. I think so too.” Aren grinned.
Bruno stuck his hand out. “Make this move. You can do that, right?”
Franco chuckled, stepping between them and steering Bruno toward his brother and sister. “Why don’t you kids go upstairs for a bit? I need to talk to our guests.”
The children ran upstairs, Bruno twisting around to wave at Aren as he went. Aren lifted his hand before turning to face Franco.
“I wouldn’t have used my powers on him without your permission,” Aren said quietly.
“I appreciate that. I think it’s best you don’t.” Franco motioned to a woman lingering by the stairs. He introduced her as his wife, Esperanza, and ushered them all into the living room.
Aren sat down next to Iria. The room was large and sunny, with brightly colored furniture, but his gaze was on the small statue of one of the ancestors on the table next to him. He could swear these statues were following him.
He scooted away from the statue. His shoulder brushed Iria’s, and she fidgeted nervously as Violet outlined Cas’s plan to bring an army north.
She had one hand on her thigh, tapping her fingers rapidly against her pants. Aren put his hand over hers.
“You look nervous,” he said under his breath. Violet, Franco, and Esperanza were deep in conversation with Mateo and Ric about how to pull the army together, and it didn’t seem like they needed input from anyone else.
“I am nervous,” she whispered.
“I meant guilty. You look guilty.”
“That too.” She gestured at Violet and Franco. “They trust us.”
“Apparently.” He raised an eyebrow. “Should they?”
“… yes?” She laughed softly. “Yes. I just—”
“Aren.” Violet’s voice cut off Iria’s words, and they both turned to her. “Will you go with Franco and Mateo and Ric to round up as many people as possible? We’ll map out a route so you’ll be back by tonight.”
“What about you and Iria?”
“We’ll stay here. Someone needs to stay and greet people as they arrive.”
He glanced at Iria, hesitant to leave her alone.
“It’s fine,” she said.
“I’ll take care of her,” Violet said. “The first thing we’re going to do is put that sword away so no one knows you’re a warrior.”
“Former warrior,” Iria corrected quietly.
“Right. Let’s not advertise it.”
“Sure. I understand.”
Violet stood. “Good. Are you ready, Aren?”
“Now?” he asked.
“No time to waste, unfortunately. I’ll get some food together for you to take with you.”
He nodded and stood, Iria following him as he walked to the front door.
“You’re sure you’ll be all right here?” he asked.
“I think so.” She jerked her head at Violet. “She seems all right.”
He stepped a little closer to her. “What were you going to say before? You said they can trust you, but
there was more.”
“You can trust me,” she said firmly. “I didn’t think about what it meant when I chose you. It makes sense that the Ruined would have turned to Lera after we betrayed you, I just didn’t imagine I’d be joining the Lera army.”
He swallowed, the words when I chose you vibrating through his body. “Do you regret it?” he asked quietly. “You can leave anytime. You know that, right?”
“I know. I told you I don’t regret it.”
“Ready?” Mateo asked, reaching past him to open the door. Aren nodded.
“Good luck,” Iria said. Mateo and Ric walked out the door, leaving it open behind them. The sunlight streamed across Iria’s face.
He took her hand again for a moment. He squeezed it because he couldn’t find the right words. She smiled, and he looked over his shoulder three times as he walked away so he could memorize it.
FORTY
CAS HAD A bag packed. He’d prepared the staff and guard to leave at a moment’s notice. He was constantly staring southeast, waiting for Violet to return.
The only thing he hadn’t done was kill Jovita.
He’d never had the opportunity, he tried to reassure himself. He was rarely alone with her.
The reality was, he hadn’t looked for an opportunity. Violet should have been back yesterday, so if he was really serious about killing Jovita, he would have already done it.
He sighed, leaning his head against the cool stone of the tower. He was at the highest point of the fortress with Galo and another guard, watching for Violet. The round tower was completely empty, nothing but a small window on one side, but it still felt cramped to Cas. He was more than ready to leave.
“She’ll come,” Galo said, misinterpreting Cas’s sigh.
“Do you think Jovita will try to stop us?” Cas asked carefully, aware of the other guard’s presence.
Galo met his eyes, sympathy flickering over his features. He didn’t answer; he just stared with an expression Cas didn’t understand.
“Your Majesty,” the other guard said excitedly. He pointed out the window.
Cas braced his hands against the bottom of the window, leaning forward to see as far as he could. In the distance, hundreds of people rode toward the fortress on horses. More than he could count. Lera flags flew at the front and back of the group.
