“Please, it’s Jenna,” I rasped. “And Enzo?” His mouth twitched up. “Find Koranth for me.”
He chuckled and helped me drink a little more water. My eyes fell closed, and I thought I heard his breath hitch. Something cool brushed against my forehead, and my eyes flew open again.
“Enzo?” I wanted—needed—to ask so much more.
“I’ll find Koranth,” he said firmly.
Exhaustion pulled at me, and my eyelids fluttered. We needed time to figure everything out. Time we didn’t have. “Be safe.”
Yesilia bustled in with an armful of fresh bandages and Luc poked his head into the tent. “We need to go, diri.”
Enzo’s footsteps retreated as sleep prowled closer. But before he ducked out of the tent, I could have sworn I heard him say, “I’m here, Jenna. Don’t give up.”
In the Kingdom of Turia
The noon sun baked the earth outside as the west gate inched up. Its creak scratched over the grass and across the empty outbuildings, echoing off the palace walls.
Brownlok’s horse tossed his head, but didn’t flinch at the men surrounding him. Rows of King Marko’s soldiers entered the breached gate, but there was no force to meet them, no resistance in the outer courtyard of the palace.
“Wait,” Brownlok commanded.
Silence filled the air, ready to burst at the slightest prick.
The mage checked his saddlebag one more time, tightening the strap. He’d risked too much to lose now.
The soldiers were getting closer. The men around him shifted on their feet, breathing loudly. Brownlok inhaled, pulling energy from all around, focusing it into a single speck. He exhaled, and a boom shook the earth, followed by the shriek of splintering glass and wood.
He’d opened a gaping hole in the palace.
Shattered glass reflected the harsh light. Beams, doors, and twisted furniture marred the front lawn. The king’s groaning men littered the ground, flattened by shrapnel. Those who’d survived the explosion now raced to stop the barrage of Brownlok’s men who sprinted toward freedom on the other side of the palace’s wall.
The mage urged his horse through the wreckage and chaos of fighting. On the other side of the field, a boy held back his friends, watching the mage with the proper respect. A boy with the king’s mark on his vest. Brownlok turned his hooded face toward the prince heir and smiled as he dipped his head in greeting.
Graymere would have killed him. But Brownlok didn’t care about revenge on a people so far removed from him. Killing them wouldn’t bring back his family.
Even so, the boy would never be king. Not if Brownlok could help it.
Two healers had carried me on a makeshift bed into Yesilia’s domain once we’d retaken the palace. It wasn’t an experience I wanted to repeat. As dusk fell, they’d transported me carefully through the wreckage at the front, where our hideaway in the drawing room had been completely smashed.
I’d been in Yesilia’s chambers ever since, with a fire burning bright at all hours, blankets piled on. She’d helped me change out of my ragged Turian uniform and into a men’s tunic large enough to ease my broken arm through, pairing it with a long skirt so she’d have easy access to my leg. She muttered about investing in a bookshelf as I transferred Ren’s book from my uniform to my pocket.
The latest batch of wintergrain root still pulled the poison from my body, and my wounds pulsed with my heartbeat. Every time I fell asleep, I dreamed of the men I’d killed, so now I didn’t dare close my eyes. My ribs ached, my left arm was still useless, though the swelling had gone down, and I needed to get out of the palace, or the mages would find me again.
Yesilia mixed herbs and tended the fire, checking on the injured soldiers spread out on the surrounding beds.
I shifted on my cot and ground my teeth to keep from groaning. I still felt that something stirring inside me—I was being hunted. I couldn’t fight, and I couldn’t lead them here.
Enzo hadn’t come by yet, though I’d been here for hours. I told myself he was busy, that he’d have a lot to look after with a broken palace and captured men. But we’d left everything between us in shambles, and though we couldn’t be together, I wanted him to understand, needed him not to hate me.
“Yesilia?” I croaked.
She hurried over and felt my forehead. “Yes, child? Do you need more willow bark tea?”
I shook my head. The willow bark would help me sleep, which would help me heal and replenish my magic, but I needed information. What had Brownlok found? Did he have both pieces of the key? Graymere’s shade had failed. Would the mage himself come after me next?
“I need to go to the library.” I kept my voice quiet in the still room.
She tilted her head, one eyebrow raised. “Well, you can go as soon as you can get there on your own.”
She checked a woman on my other side, who’d needed stitches from the explosion.
Yesilia was no help. She knew very well I’d never make it there on my own. I closed my eyes to try and pull magic from my core and drag it into my shoulder, to stitch the bone and muscles back together. I felt a tingle of warmth and then a growing heat spreading in my arm.
The door opened with a commotion, breaking my concentration. I sighed in frustration as the warmth disappeared, and glanced over.
Enzo.
He was finally here. Never taking my eyes off his slow approach, I sat up as much as I could. He greeted several soldiers on his way, his gaze always coming back to mine.
When he reached my side, I almost thought he was going to reach toward me, but his hands remained clenched at his sides instead.
He didn’t say anything.
I ran my finger over the rough wool of the blanket. “Did you find Koranth?”
He smiled, but it didn’t dim the exhaustion in the dark smudges under his eyes. “Someone else found him first. He’s being escorted to Riiga’s borders tomorrow. He claims to have been coerced by magic into helping Brownlok.”
I huffed at the obvious but clever lie. “And the southern border?”
“Stable.”
“And”—I swallowed my anguish—“the northern border?”
His lips pursed. “Our line at the pass broke. We are holding at the edge of the Wild. Hopefully with the soldiers we used to retake the palace returning to ranks, Hálendi won’t make more progress.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Enzo dropped to his knees, and his fingers brushed the back of my hand. All thought fled as my heart pumped.
“I—” He broke off with a curse. “You could have told me.”
It was the same plea as yesterday, and it stung, though I knew I wouldn’t have acted any differently. But no matter what unresolved issues we had, I needed to find answers about the mages before Graymere came for me. Yesilia was busy with someone on the other side of the room. “Will you help me?” I whispered so quietly he had to lean closer.
“What did you want help with?” he asked. His crisp apple scent washed over me, stealing my thoughts.
I bit my lip, and his eyes followed the motion. “Take me to the library.”
His mouth opened and closed. “I…What?”
I sat up a little more, wincing as my ribs protested. “I have to see what Brownlok uncovered. And”—someone behind him moaned—“I want to talk without an audience.”
His head dipped, and for a moment I thought he’d refuse. But he peeled back every blanket except one, then slipped one hand under my knees, the other under my shoulders.
I held back a groan as he stood with me, the blanket draped over me, walking as fast as he could around the beds. Luc stood as we neared the exit.
“What are you—”
“Open the door,” Enzo hissed, “or Yesilia’s going to catch us. And Jenna’s too heavy to run with.”
Luc sno
rted but obeyed, and all three of us hurried down the hall to the library. He set me down in front of the doors, keeping his arm around me.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” Luc whispered, and took his position outside the doors, now hanging loose on their hinges.
“Thank you,” I whispered back. I pulled the blanket around my shoulders and limped into the library with Enzo’s arm supporting me.
The tables and chairs had been righted, but books were strewn all over the floor. Stars shone through the tall windows, bathing everything in a soft glow, our only light. How would I ever find anything in this mess?
I pointed to the shelf where I’d found Jershi’s writings, and Enzo helped me over. There were a dozen or more books missing. My stomach sank. What had Brownlok found? My arm and leg started to throb.
“Enzo…,” I said, but he started to speak at the same time. “What was it you wanted to say?”
“I—” He cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you answer yourself when the betrothal was presented? Why did you let your father answer when I invited you here?”
I leaned heavier on him, and he carried me to a sofa that had been slashed down the middle, but most of the stuffing was still intact.
“I didn’t let him answer.” I eased back into it with a grimace. His brow furrowed. “I didn’t know I was betrothed to you until the eve of my seventeenth birthday, two days before I left for Turia.”
He sat next to me, several inches between us. “How could you not know?”
“My father didn’t tell me. There was—is—a traitor in the castle. My father suspected something, so he didn’t tell anyone. No one knew about the engagement. Not even the council.”
“Cavolo.”
“Yeah, cavolo.” I leaned back, surveying the damage around us. “Yet somehow, the traitor discovered the secret. With enough warning that a mage was waiting for me in the Wild, and for my brother in North Watch. My father and I were the only ones who even knew Ren was going to split off from our party and travel north, yet the mages found him.”
I wanted to slump, but the motion hurt too much.
“I didn’t think your father could accept a betrothal without your consent,” Enzo said, watching me carefully.
“Well, he did.”
Enzo put his arm on the back of the couch and rested his head in his hand. His hair tumbled everywhere, and his jaw was shadowed with stubble. “Yet you came anyway?”
Our gazes caught and held. “Yes. Hálendi needed troops.”
He leaned the tiniest bit closer. My ribs ached as my breathing sped up.
“Enzo, I…” Once the words were out of my mouth, I wouldn’t be able to take them back. But whether or not I said them, they’d still be true.
“Wait,” he said. He put his hand on my cheek. “Whatever you are going to say doesn’t seem good. I just want one more moment,” he whispered.
His hand slid behind my neck. He leaned in, cradling me with one arm around my back, the other in my hair. A feeling of rightness washed over me. My hand wrapped around his wrist, my fingers on his racing pulse, and he turned what I’d thought to be a hello into a conversation. His lips caressed mine gently, carefully, mindful of my injuries. I cursed the mages to the Ice Deserts—Enzo was finally here, kissing me, and all I wanted was to press closer, but my body was too broken.
When he pulled away, my chest hurt from more than just cracked ribs. How could I walk away, knowing this was how he kissed?
I squeezed my eyes closed and spit out the bitter words. “I’m the ruling heir.”
His forehead still rested against mine. “What?”
“My father and brother are dead.” I leaned back and rubbed my hand over my eyes. “If we ever sort out the mages. If I can find the traitor who betrayed us…I’ll be crowned queen of Hálendi. You’ll one day be king of Turia. We…we can never be.”
Enzo’s shoulders fell with a great exhale. He took his arm off the sofa and leaned on his knees. Pushed himself up and kicked a few torn pages from his path, paced to the nearest shelf and back, then threw himself next to me, closer than before.
“I don’t even know if they’ll want me as queen,” I whispered. I rubbed my hand over the sling Yesilia had fashioned, tracing the bumps in the strips of bandages.
He took my hand and held it in his. Calmness settled in. And when he brushed his thumb over my palm, gooseflesh raised on my skin. “Why not?” he asked.
I laced my fingers through his. “There was a royal family once who had two children inherit magic instead of just the firstborn. They warred over the kingdom, the secondborn trying to kill the first.” He nodded for me to continue. “Everyone has always been wary of me. I didn’t act like they thought a princess should. They were afraid I would inherit magic. I—” I swallowed. “They might claim I had something to do with—”
I didn’t finish, but I didn’t have to. A muscle in his jaw ticked, and his grip on my hand tightened. But his eyes were still soft in the starlight.
“Did you always know you had magic?” he asked.
“No—yes. I don’t know.” My hand trembled in his, and I couldn’t look at him. “I’ve kept this secret my entire life. It’s…hard to talk about.”
“We don’t have the same superstitions about magic here in Turia, Jenna.”
I stilled, and he tipped my chin until I met his gaze. “You don’t?”
“Magic is just magic. What tore apart the Continent ages ago was brought to our land, yes, but along with the evil mages came good men to combat them. Magic in an ally is an asset. In an enemy, it is not.” His smile bloomed, crooked and perfect.
The fear inside me that had been knotted for years loosened. “I’ve always had a…connection…to my family. I call them tethers.” He scooted closer so his knee pressed against my leg. “I don’t know much about it, but somehow I can feel what they feel—their anger, sadness, joy, pain. But I’ve kept the connection, the tethers, hidden my whole life. I wasn’t allowed to learn about magic in Hálendi, especially not as the secondborn heir.”
He brushed his fingers down the hair I’d hated for years like it was a precious gift. “Can you feel those connections with anyone else?”
“I think I’d somehow formed a tether with my maid. She was my closest friend besides Ren. So maybe, if I have a special relationship with someone, one can form.” Aleinn’s tether had been so fragile I hadn’t realized it was there until it broke. But it had been there. Would I have developed one with Enzo?
“And what happens if someone…”
“Dies?” I finished what he wouldn’t. “It hurts. Like being torn apart from within. That’s how I knew my father and brother were dead when I was in the Wild. I felt my father’s tether break, then Ren’s.” It didn’t hurt so much to talk about my family now.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. He let go of my hand, and I instantly missed it, but he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and held me.
“Can I tell you something else?” I asked. He nodded. A breeze lifted a page into the air, and it danced like a puppet without strings. I was done lying to Enzo. I wanted him to know everything, even if it hurt to say. Even if we’d never be together.
“When the invaders had gone to other parts of the palace, your sisters and I turned the corner to escape into the drawing room. There was a man there. All I saw was the sword in his hand, and I just…reacted. He— I—” I needed another breath before I could forge on. “I watched him die. Felt my sword cut through him. I—”
Enzo stopped me there. “You were doing what I asked—you were keeping my sisters safe.”
“I killed the guard in the dungeon, too,” I whispered.
“He would have killed you if given the chance, Jenna.”
I understood, but I knew it would take time before those memories wouldn’t haunt my dreams. Still, it was a relief to tell hi
m, that he accepted me.
His fingers played with my hair, which Yesilia had tied back with a strip of leather. Not in the usual braid, for once. “After the attack in the dungeon, when you were so injured, why did you use your magic to shield your wounds from Mari?”
I leaned my head against his shoulder. “Mari had asked me what happened to the other princess, the one I was supposed to guard but had failed. I didn’t want her to think I’d fail her, too. I didn’t want her having the nightmares I now have.”
“You were protecting her. Her innocence.”
“Yes, exactly. Everything had been one grand adventure for her. I needed to keep it that way so she could keep going. I didn’t make it to Aleinn before the mage slit her throat.” I pushed the guilt and grief deeper inside. “So I shielded my injuries from Mari.”
“But you could let the shield go once you got to me?”
A soft smile played at my lips. “Before you left, you said you trusted me with your sisters. That’s what kept me going, your trust in me. I couldn’t let you down—I needed to get them back to you.”
He brushed his hand over my cheek, and I leaned into his touch. “And you did. You brought them safely home.”
“Enzo, it’s hopeless.” Even saying the words made me want to scream and rage at the world.
He kissed my temple. “We’ll figure this out.”
I leaned my head on his shoulder, but I wasn’t sure there was a way to make this right. I cursed the mages once more. They’d taken everything from me. Again.
* * *
I wanted to dream about Enzo’s kisses, but mages and death filled my mind instead. We’d searched the library for as long as I could and still came away empty-handed.
The hole where my magic was stored was filling slowly, and as it did, I pulled threads to different parts of my body, urging the muscles and bones to heal. But it wouldn’t be fast enough. I needed to leave. Soon.
And where was Enzo? It was hours past breakfast, yet—
“Leinn!” Mari whispered from right beside me. “You’ll never guess—
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