“I’m good at keeping secrets.” Mari sniffed and wiped her tears on her sleeve. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to find Jenna.”
* * *
“Hasn’t anyone seen Chiara?” I asked as I paced the king’s study off the council room. Enzo drummed his fingers on the desk he sat at.
“Maybe she went to visit the orphanage,” Jenna said, tugging on her braid where she sat across from Enzo. “She does that when she’s worried about something.”
“Do you have a tether with her, too?” I asked, nudging a chair out of my way.
“It’s…distant.” She rubbed her hands against her sides. “It’s usually faint, anyway, but…I hadn’t realized…with all the meetings…”
Enzo put his head in his hands.
Mari burst into the room with enough force to slam the door against the wall behind it. “I can’t find Yesilia, either. Her healers said she’d told them she was visiting a friend in the city for a few days. I told you, they’re gone.” She waved a folded paper in front of her. “This was under Chiara’s jewel case.”
Enzo’s chair scraped against the stone floor. He bolted to Mari and snatched the letter from her, his eyes scanning the words.
“Out loud, Enzo,” Jenna whispered.
“Mother, Enzo, Mari, and Jenna,”
Something inside me twanged at being left out.
“I knew you wouldn’t approve, so I didn’t ask. Enzo, you have a duty to Turia to honor. Jenna, Enzo needs you, our family and kingdom need you, now more than ever. Mari, you are Mother’s bright spot, her hope. But I can do something. So I’m leaving. I’m going to find our father and bring him home. Don’t worry, Yesilia is with me, and we’ll be careful and safe. Love to you all…”
Enzo’s voice faded into nothing. Jenna reached up and slipped her hand into his, easing him into a chair next to her. She held on tight—for him, for her, for us all.
Mari looked lost in the corner, her brows furrowed in sorrow or anger, maybe in disappointment at being left behind.
“When?” I asked into the heavy room. “How?”
“I haven’t seen Chiara for at least two days,” Jenna said quietly. “I’d heard she’d been spending her time in the library. I thought she was finding a way to handle…”
“Mari?” I asked.
Mari shook her head, a tear escaping into the curls at her neck. “We haven’t had family dinners lately. Not since—not with…everything.”
“They’ve been gone for two days and nobody noticed?” My brittle jaw ached, like my teeth would shatter at any moment. Chiara wasn’t my responsibility—I already had the burden of one kingdom to bear. But her bright smile assaulted my mind. The world would destroy her in a heartbeat.
Yesilia. At least she had Yesilia. I squeezed my eyes shut. Not that Yesilia could offer much protection.
But Chiara was also right. No one here could go after her.
Enzo banged his fist against the desk. “What was she thinking? She knows I’ll just send every guard—”
“No,” Jenna whispered, rubbing her forehead. “It’s the same as Marko—if word gets out that Chiara is wandering the kingdom with only her grandmother for protection, you’ll mark her as a target. She’s safer if no one knows.”
Enzo dropped his head into his hands. I didn’t need Jenna’s tethers to feel his frustration, the hopelessness that was slowly breaking him apart. I’d felt the same, when everyone said that Jenna was dead.
“Should we tell Mother?” Mari asked.
Enzo and Jenna stared at each other, and finally Enzo shook his head. “She’s got enough to worry about,” he said. “We’ll find someone we trust to go—”
“I can go.” The words were out of my mouth before I had even finished the thought.
Jenna’s head snapped up. “You can’t risk it.”
Enzo wiped his hand down his face. “I can’t ask you to go, Ren. You have your own set of troubles.”
I stood a little taller and pulled a lost-looking Mari to my side. “You aren’t asking me to go, I’m offering. No, demanding.” Mari sniffled. She leaned into me and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders.
Jenna jumped out of her chair and began pacing. “Hálendi is too fragile—you don’t even have an heir. Anything could go wrong, and then what would our people do?”
I squeezed Mari’s shoulder before addressing my very angry sister. “I am aware of the state of affairs in Hálendi. I’ve made arrangements that will keep things stable. My troubles will wait.” I hoped. “I don’t know why the Medallion led me here. But I was too late for Marko. I won’t be too late for Chiara.”
A gentle warmth shivered into me from the Medallion. Was it relief at not having to return home? Or did the land want me to go after Chiara?
“I’m coming with you.” Jenna folded her arms. Enzo didn’t speak. He wouldn’t stop her.
“No, you’re not,” I said before she could argue. I sent a pointed glance at Enzo then Mari. “You’re needed here.” I wasn’t.
Jenna pulled her shoulders back and glared at me. “I can’t let you go alone. I was the one who defeated Graymere. My magic and artifacts—”
“You’re not the only one with magic,” I said quietly. “You had the adventure last time. It’s my turn.”
She was still for so long, I wasn’t sure whether or not I’d won the argument. “Take my ring,” she finally said, twisting her lips to the side and swallowing hard.
My lips lifted into a half smile. “If only it were that simple. I have the Medallion. I’ll be fine.” A spike of heat shot into me. What that heat meant, I had no idea.
“You are not going alone.” Jenna held tight to Enzo’s hand, like he was the only thing grounding her. He probably was. “I can’t lose you again.”
I shook my head and backed away. “When I find Chiara and Yesilia, I won’t be alone. And besides, you didn’t lose me the first time, so you can’t technically lose me again.”
Enzo stood and edged in front of Jenna, probably to prevent her from slapping me. But the levity, the joking, was all I could do—I couldn’t stand here and let my sister risk everything she’d ever wanted. Couldn’t let her feel my true feelings through the tethers.
“I’ll check with the stables,” Enzo said, interrupting the staring match between Jenna and me. “They can’t have gone far without transportation.”
Mari sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her arm. “I’ll ask Cook if she gave them food. And get some for you, too.”
I pressed my fist to my shoulder and jogged out before Jenna could protest further. I wasn’t sure I could turn down her offer to come with me again.
I didn’t get lost on the way to my room this time. I rolled up my clothes, lamenting how hot I’d be and how many nights I’d have to sleep outside if the innkeepers didn’t trust a Hálendian. I rifled through the messages by my bed and scribbled a note to Edda to continue on—I’d return when I could.
A short knock sounded, then the door swung open. I spun, my hand on my sword, but it was only Enzo, Jenna, and Mari piling into my room.
“Here, you’ll need this,” Enzo said, and thrust a pile of Turian clothing and a coin pouch toward me. I took the bundle and passed him the sealed note to send to Edda in exchange.
“And these,” Mari added, tossing an ugly brown cap onto the pile along with a wrapped parcel of food.
“They took the carriage to the orphanage,” Enzo said. “It returned empty—Yesilia claimed she wanted to walk back to the palace.”
“Where is the orphanage?”
“West side of Turiana.” He pulled out a paper—a map that had been folded in quarters. “There’s the orphanage”—he pointed to its general vicinity, then to three routes that had been drawn in—“these are the possible routes they took south. But all paths lea
d to Rialzo; it’s the only way to get down the cliffs and into Riiga.” He paused. “It’s a rough city, Ren. I can’t—”
“I’ll find them before they get that far.” I spread out the map and grabbed a pen. “Show me where your father disappeared, too. I’ll see if the Medallion senses anything while I’m there.”
Jenna swallowed and put her finger on Riiga’s capital city, Vera. “You must return before Janiis’s wedding and whatever he’s planning.”
I nodded. We were already separated enough as a Plateau; Janiis was positioning himself a little too well for my comfort. “Seven days,” I said, mostly to myself. Seven days to find them and return.
Jenna handed me a tiny jar of what looked like horse excrement. I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not eating that.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s for your hair. So it won’t be so blindingly foreign. You need to be careful, especially now.”
Because I was king? Because I carried the Medallion? Because Turians didn’t like Hálendians? I sniffed the jar’s contents and coughed. “I think I’d rather be reckless.”
“Cris could be out there,” Jenna continued, ignoring my sarcasm. “And the mages.”
Right. Mages. And Cris. “And whoever summoned the mages, and most of Riiga.” I sighed and gathered a set of clothes. “I am well aware.”
I ducked into my bathing chamber to change before she could thrust something else awful into my hands, and came out a few moments later, tugging at the vest Enzo had found for me. Jenna helped me rub the foul-smelling concoction into my hair, and Mari tugged the cap down tight.
I wrinkled my nose as I tilted my now-brunette head in the mirror. “This looks awful.”
Jenna threw herself into my arms, almost tipping us both over. I hugged her tight. I needed to get ahold of my worry, of the weight crushing me inside. I couldn’t leave Jenna feeling my weight, adding to her worry. “I’ll be careful, I promise. And if I find Marko while I’m out there, I’ll bring him home, too.”
“You do that.” Jenna half laughed, half sobbed. “Are you sure you won’t take anyone with you?”
I nodded, but I wasn’t as sure as I had been about my decision to travel alone. I swallowed and touched my chest where the Medallion rested. “I’ll be okay.”
Jenna’s eyes narrowed. Glaciers, I hated that she could read my emotions sometimes. So I covered my neck with my hands. “How do you people stand so much wind down your collar?” I asked to mask my heavier thoughts.
The material was fine enough on the Turian tunic, straight trousers, and tall boots, but I felt uncomfortable in the clothing, and anyone looking at me could tell. At least I wouldn’t be so unbearably hot. Well, not as unbearably hot.
“That’s what a coat is for,” Mari piped up. “Our way is better.”
I snorted and ruffled her wild curls. “For this heat, you’re probably right, Mari.”
Enzo shook my hand, and Jenna took me by the shoulders. “Trust yourself, Ren. Trust yourself and listen to whatever the Medallion is trying to tell you.”
I kissed her cheek, then swung Mari around in a hug. I took my small bag with a change of clothes and food that Mari had pinched from the kitchens, with the coin purse at the bottom.
I paused at the door and studied them. They were already a family, whether the vows had been said or not. I stepped through the doorway into the hall. “I’ll bring her home.”
Marko
When the door opened, Marko didn’t flinch. Janiis entered, stooping through the low doorway, the bright flare of candlelight behind him hiding his expression. Two cloaked figures followed him and stood in a corner of the room, the candle’s light barely licking against them.
Unease tightened Marko’s already thin frame. Hunger and thirst burned in him, consuming his thoughts and body, yet those shadowy figures in the corner were like a bolt down his spine. They were the ones to watch.
“Old friend,” Janiis started, his oily voice bouncing off the damp walls. “Give us what we need, and you will be moved to more comfortable accommodations.”
Marko’s tongue stuck in his mouth, too dry to speak.
Janiis ground his teeth and puffed out his chest. As though that could intimidate anyone into obeying him. “You know what we seek. Do you have it?”
Marko shook his head slowly, every muscle protesting the movement.
“Do you know where they can be found?” One cloaked figure spoke from the corner, the dulcet tones of her voice sending a shiver across Marko’s skin.
It was harder to shake his head this time, but Marko managed it.
The other figure stepped away from the wall, boots crunching against the bones of whatever rodent had died in the corner. Long, fine-boned fingers emerged from the cloak and pulled back the hood, revealing the former ambassador—Koranth. Alive. With black eyes. Marko’s heart thumped against his ribs and everything spun around him. But he didn’t move. Wouldn’t.
Koranth pulled a tiny vial of amber liquid from beneath his cloak and held it up in the candlelight.
Janiis shifted so slightly that Marko almost didn’t catch it. If Janiis was worried, Marko should be terrified. Yet all he felt was hunger.
“We seek a map, King,” the woman said. “A map to the Black Library. And a key. I’ll ask one more time. Do you know where they are?”
Marko bit his tongue with the effort to keep silent. Words banged against his clenched teeth, fighting to be free, to end the silence and darkness of his cell.
“You continue to resist? Very well,” Koranth said. He uncorked the vial and stepped closer. “I was saving it for someone else, but—”
“Wait,” Janiis said, head tilted to the side, a confused expression marring his face. “What…I don’t think we should—”
But then his mouth snapped shut. A dazed look washed over him. Like his will had been wiped from his mind.
Whatever the vial contained, Marko would not bend. Could not.
Koranth pinched Marko’s face, nails digging into his cheeks as he forced his mouth to open. A few drops of the amber liquid splashed onto Marko’s tongue, and though he knew whatever that vial contained would be very, very bad, he couldn’t help but swallow the sweet liquid. It coated his burning throat, eased his pain.
“Where is the map?” Koranth’s voice echoed in Marko’s brain as though he’d spoken directly into his skull.
He couldn’t keep his teeth clenched any longer. “I do not know,” he heard his voice say, though he hadn’t given the words permission to leave his mouth.
Koranth growled. “Where is the key?”
Slow burning began at the base of his neck, and Marko squeezed his eyes shut.
“Where is the key?”
He shook his head again and again, but the pain wouldn’t leave. “I don’t know!” he cried out. So many answers ran through his mind—that he didn’t know where Brownlok was with his piece. Didn’t know where Atháren was with the other. But Koranth hadn’t asked either of those things, so they stayed locked away.
The pain burned slowly higher and higher, up into his skull. Like the sun had reached inside and scraped it clean. An ear-shattering scream pierced the cell, bouncing against the walls and back. It was him, Marko realized from far, far away. He was screaming. His life flashed before his mind’s eye, scene after scene, choice after choice. His wife. His children. His people. As the burning reached the top of his head, silence once again returned, leaving only a blank expanse in front of him. Behind him.
Everything.
Gone.
Chiara
I’d never been jealous of my own grandmother before, but no one questioned her decisions. Not when we’d borrowed a carriage to leave the palace, not when we arrived at the orphanage in Turiana and switched clothing for more serviceable garb, not when she told the driver to return to the palace without us.
We’d walked only a short way from the orphanage when Grandmother stopped. She approached a man with a large hay cart, its wagon box still half full as the sun was setting.
“Could we ride with you a ways?” she asked the man. He’d been about to say no, but my grandmother, the devious old duck, rounded her shoulders so she stooped more than usual and leaned a little heavier on me.
The man grunted his agreement, and we had a comfortable ride through the night under the stars and moon. The farther we traveled from the palace and its burdens, the lighter I felt.
We didn’t head straight south, as I’d assumed we would. Instead, we took a southeastern road. I asked Grandmother why she hadn’t wanted to stay in the carriage, and she said, “A hay cart is harder to track than a palace carriage.”
So although we weren’t getting to Riiga as fast as possible, I didn’t have to check over my shoulder quite so often. Out here, the caged feeling went away.
When the mage had trapped me in the palace with Jenna and Mari, my father was prepared to attack his own home with as many men as he could find. I would do the same for him.
We’d been traveling for two days, walking and hitching rides, and no one had paid a girl and her grandmother any mind. We were not a threat. Not important.
The village we now approached, Cozzare, was larger than any of the others. Everything looked…sturdy. Wooden planks lined the cobblestone roads for walking, every window’s shutters were in good repair, and the rooftops were some of the best mended I’d seen yet.
We’d been walking most of the day, since the farmer who gave us a ride had turned off toward his village, and Yesilia leaned heavily on me. “You’ll have to find us dinner, carina,” she said. “I might have overworked these old bones today.”
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