He dug his heels into the sand and fiddled with a seam of his trousers. I didn’t press him. The Medallion had led him to us. Had protected us from the riders on the road. It seemed like he was doing a good job of figuring it out.
“ ‘Another within the heart, a ring of flax, of brown and blue,’ ” I continued. “That’s Turia’s artifact.”
“That Brownlok has.”
I nodded. “But it says three keys. I think there’s a third key of some sort hidden near the terraced vineyards.”
Ren let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through his hair, shaking out dust from the climb and exposing the white streak just above his temple.
Magic.
It was a concept as foreign as the Ice Deserts, yet also familiar. Grandmother Yesilia worked a kind of magic in her healing chambers. The people of Turia—young, old, poor, rich—worked their own magic every day as they lived their lives. In plowing their fields, taking seeds and nurturing them into plants and trees and life. In village healers who knew every use of every plant in the area.
And Jenna. Her magic had saved Mari and me. Had saved us all, really.
Even Enzo had magic of his own—the ability to see others’ magic. But not me—I had nothing even close to resembling that kind of power.
A loud clap of thunder crashed and I shivered. The air here was filled with freezing water that clung to everything. Ren didn’t have a cloak. No bag, either. He needed rest, but I was too exhilarated from making it into Riiga to sleep. We were so close.
“Did the men who attacked you take your supplies?” I asked. If he didn’t respond with more than a yes or no, I wouldn’t bother him.
He let out a rueful chuckle. “Yes. Shot me off my horse, then ran off with everything.”
I blinked. “Shot you?”
He shrugged like it wasn’t a huge deal that the king of Hálendi had almost met his demise. “I also might have met a mage.”
“What?” I said too loud for the small cave.
“A man helped me when I was ambushed. I was injured, outnumbered, and he stepped in. After pulling the arrow out of my shoulder, he—”
I reached out to him—my hand holding his forearm before I could stop it. “An arrow?” I stared at his shoulder. An arrow?
Ren tipped my chin so I was looking at his left shoulder. “It was this one. And yes.” Our eyes met. His fingers burned against my skin where he touched me. For a man from the frozen north, he had a lot of heat radiating off his body. My cheeks warmed and my heart beat faster and faster until I thought he’d hear it.
He dropped his hand, shaking it a bit. “He said the main road wasn’t safe, and that I’d do better if I went to the twin pines and twin peaks.”
I pursed my lips. “Was he Riigan?”
“He didn’t sound Riigan.” Ren winced and spit out the rest. “He didn’t seem surprised when my arm healed on its own. Wouldn’t say why he was helping me. Brown cloak.”
“Ancient voice?” I asked. My ribs seemed to get tighter around my lungs when he nodded. “Brownlok,” I whispered with a shiver.
It was so easy to forget about the mages when Janiis was the target. But I’d never forget Brownlok’s voice as he and Koranth had plotted to find us when we’d been trapped in the palace.
“I don’t know why he helped me, or if he recognized me. But he was heading north, away from Riiga.”
I swallowed. “Toward Turiana.” Brownlok had practically walked into the palace last time. The palace that was still under construction.
Ren’s hand rested on my shoulder. “Jenna and Enzo will keep everyone safe.”
They would. But that wouldn’t stop me from worrying.
I leaned a bit closer. Should I ask if he was cold? I didn’t want him to think I was like Cynthia or all the other girls I’m sure followed him around, finding excuses to get close to him. But he didn’t have a cloak. It was freezing, Hálendian or no.
“Do you want to share?” I finally blurted out, lifting the edge of my cloak. We were packed in tight as it was, our knees almost touching. “If you’re cold, I mean. Since you don’t have a—”
“Yes,” he said quickly, inching closer.
I undid the clasp with fumbling, mostly numb fingers. But when I tried to lay the cloak over both of us, I realized how big he was, and how small the cloak was. “Um…” I swallowed.
He leaned against the back of the cave and held one arm up. He tried to smile, to waggle his eyebrows. But it was half-hearted, at best.
“If you wink at me, I’ll rescind my offer,” I grumbled, and scooted closer, until his arm was around my shoulder and we touched from shoulder to hip to knee. Tiny fires erupted at every contact point—fires I tried to ignore. He didn’t see me that way; he saw me as a sister.
“You’re in luck, Princess,” he murmured. “I’m too tired to wink tonight.”
Being this close, the tension in his muscles bled into me. He was a warrior—he shouldn’t be this tired. Even I’d made the journey.
“Did the jaunt down the cliff wear you down too much, Your Majesty?” I tried to tease.
“Between the cliff, Aleksa, Ilma, and this blasted cold seeping into my bones, I won’t be much company tonight, I’m afraid.” He swallowed and his arm tightened around my shoulder as he shifted to get comfortable. I tucked my chin toward my chest and leaned in. I couldn’t help it—were all boys this warm?
“Can I tell you something?” he whispered. We were so close, his breath lifted wisps of my hair. Full dark had come, and still the storm raged. I nodded against his shoulder, not sure my voice would work.
“My magic? I pretend like it’s limitless. That I’m invincible. But it’s not. I just…I need you to know that. Before we go farther into Riiga.”
He stopped, but I didn’t want him to. I hadn’t known him long, but he’d always been confident, like he had all the answers. And if he didn’t, he could flirt until the right answer came.
“Will you tell me about it?” I asked. Hoping he would trust me. Hoping he felt the spark where we touched like I did.
His chest rose and fell next to me. “My body heals on its own. Which sounds useful, but not always.”
“Why not?” I asked. Healing from bruises and cuts and sore muscles sounded wonderful to me at the moment.
He sighed and relaxed into me more. “I don’t have a choice in which injuries my body heals, and which it doesn’t. So if I’m exhausted and want to save magic, I can’t until all my wounds are healed, no matter how small the bruise. If I desperately need rest, but am too cold, my body will spend magic all night to keep me warm.”
Oh. I leaned a little closer. To help him.
“To heal someone else, I have to be touching them. All my magic does, really, is take something that’s broken and urge it to fix itself. Or, in the case of sickness, to pull out the bad and replace it with good.”
“Like Yesilia,” I said.
“Exactly, just on a grander scale.” His fingers tapped against my arm. I didn’t think he was aware of the motion, but I felt the muscles in his arm moving along with it. “But it’s not a bottomless well of power. If I’m tired, or worn out, or healing myself, that well is depleted. And if I try to heal someone and don’t have enough magic for it, my own life force will be pulled out until there’s nothing left.”
I frowned. “What happens when you don’t have any more life force?”
He exhaled, a quick puff of air. “I die.”
“Couldn’t you stop before you run out?”
He exhaled long and low, ruffling my hair again. “It’s like…when you hold something tight for too long, and it’s hard to let go?” I nodded. “When I start healing, a bond is formed, and it’s hard to let go until the healing is complete.
“And also”—he took a deep breath—“I’ve never told anyone this, bu
t when I’m healing, I’m not really aware of my surroundings.”
Not aware? That’s why he checked for the riders at the gulley before healing Aleksa. Why his eyes had fallen closed when he’d warmed my hands.
“I…Don’t tell anyone, please. I just thought you should know—in case something happens.”
“Thank you for telling me,” I whispered. Ren was right—I had always thought him invincible. I still did, kind of—what he could do was amazing. But I understood him a little better now, his limits. And I couldn’t help but feel a little more powerful myself, because he’d trusted me enough to share his burdens.
* * *
I didn’t remember falling asleep. Only the incessant rain and wind and icy splashes sneaking into the alcove every time I had almost drifted off. But now that my eyes were opening, slow blinks in the growing light, I realized what had woken me.
The storm had finally stopped. Tendrils of fog seeped in through the vines hanging over the cave’s opening.
My body ached. From staying cramped in such a tight position, and from the stairway down the cliff. Then Ren shifted beside me.
I froze. The wall of fog in my mind evaporated in an instant. His arm still rested heavy around my shoulder. Apparently, I’d fallen asleep tucked up against his chest. What he’d said last night stayed with me—how tired he was, how his magic had serious consequences.
“Good morning,” he whispered, and his voice, rough from sleep, made my stomach hollow out.
I eased away, out from under the cloak, which now held plenty of heat from the two of us. “Hi. Good morning.” I snapped my mouth shut before I could say anything else inane.
I groaned and stretched. Every movement—muscles I didn’t know existed—hurt.
Ren laughed. “Sore?”
I couldn’t muster the energy to defend my lack of strength. “You seem rested,” I muttered.
His smile wasn’t the flirtatious one he used as a weapon; this one was softer. “I am. Thank you. For the cloak.” I barely kept back a shiver—because shivering would hurt.
“I can heal the soreness, if you—”
“No,” I said, maybe a little too quickly. “Save your magic, I mean. I’ll be okay.”
He nodded and busied himself with the box in the ground, handing me a small portion of the food we’d saved last night. “What do you want to do if Aleksa doesn’t come back?”
I pulled Dora’s remaining figs from my bag and gave him some. “She’ll come back.”
“But if she doesn’t? The wedding is in three days. We need to be out of Riiga by then.” He took a swig from the water jug, then held it out to me. “Promise me you’ll leave Riiga before the wedding.”
I took the water jug, but didn’t drink. We were so close. I understood his concern, the wisdom of getting away before whatever event Janiis had planned on the chance it would affect Turia. I took a swig of the water and coughed at its staleness. “I agree, and I’ll do my best. That’s all I can offer.”
Ren scrubbed his hands through this hair and over his face. “I guess that’s all I can ask, then.” He had several days of a beard growing, blond stubble that made him look less charming prince—king—and more rough soldier. He scraped his hands through his hair again, combing the strands back. “Did you get much sleep?”
My cheeks heated, though I knew he’d never see the blush in the dim light. He seemed so casual about it all. Venturing into Riiga, cramming into a cave, me falling asleep on his chest.
“Yes,” I said, and then I didn’t know how or why, but the next words that slipped out of my mouth were “You make a good pillow.”
He chuckled softly. “I’ll keep that in mind when being king doesn’t work out.”
My brows dipped low. He’d said something similar on the cliff. “What—”
The vines covering the entrance pulled back, and Ren was on his feet, sword drawn, faster than I could follow.
Aleksa jumped, dropping her bundle and grabbing the vines like she could use them as a weapon.
“Sorry,” Ren grunted.
Aleksa dropped the vines and slowly retrieved her things. “I-it’s okay. Those skills will come in useful here. Even more so than when I left two months ago.”
I sprang up and threw my arms around her. She went completely stiff, arms at her side. I didn’t care if she returned the hug or not—she’d disproved the lingering fear I wouldn’t acknowledge that maybe she wouldn’t come back.
“It’s dawn. You should have left already,” Aleksa said.
I sat back. “Not without you.”
Aleksa studied us both. Ren tipped his head toward me. “She didn’t think I could get us through Riiga.”
Aleksa snorted while I laughed in protest. “I never said that!”
Aleksa thrust a wrapped sandwich into my hands. “She was right. I have news. Eat first, then I’ll explain.”
We all sat facing the entrance to the cave, devouring the small breakfast. When we’d finished, Aleksa gathered the cloth wrappings and tucked them into the stone box.
“No one knew where your friend was,” she started.
Ren folded his arms across his chest. “Wha—”
She glared at him. “Let me finish, please. He is in the city, but he moves often enough that no one knows where he’s staying.” She took a breath and continued. “I do not want to entrust my family’s fate to an old poem.” She held up her hand when I tried to interrupt. “My friend had heard of a single prisoner being held in the last cell of the palace’s prison. Dark brown hair, Turian skin, and piercing green eyes.”
My hand flew to my mouth. “My father,” I whispered. In a dungeon, all this time. I ground my teeth together as Aleksa continued.
“The only way into the prison is from inside the palace, which is heavily guarded at the best of times, but with the wedding approaching, it is the worst time.”
We had until the day after tomorrow to get into the palace and free my father. Or to find the key and trade the clue.
“So you don’t want to follow the poem, but you don’t think we can get to Marko,” Ren said, standing up in the too-small space.
Aleksa clicked her tongue at him. “That is not what I said. I believe we can get to your father, if we can get into the palace. And that going after him instead of some clue will bring faster, better results, for my people and yours.”
I stared at the fine grains of sand pooled in the folds of my skirt. We were so close. But how to retrieve him?
Ren couldn’t pace, so he folded and unfolded his arms. “Is the palace hiring anyone to help with the extra wedding festivities? We could sneak in.”
With Aleksa’s network, it might be possible.
Aleksa shook her head. “They only hire Riigans for the grand parties and feasts held each night during the week of a royal wedding.”
Grand parties? I stared at Ren, watching him fidget. Even stooping in a cave, his broad shoulders and fair hair marked him as different. “What if…,” I started, biting my lip. Ren caught me staring at him, and for once, I didn’t look away. It might have been a trick of the sun burning off the morning fog, but his cheeks seemed to pink up. “What if we don’t sneak in?”
“What do you mean?” Aleksa asked with a frown.
Ren stared at the vines, settling his hands at his waist. “I am a king. I guess I could knock on the doors and apologize for being late. I never sent a rejection to Janiis’s invitation.”
My lips tilted up in a half smile. “You didn’t?”
He winced. “I forgot.”
I chuckled. Why didn’t that surprise me?
Aleksa shook her head. “No. Marko was taken before arriving in Riiga. There were men on the main roads looking for something. Someone. If they were waiting for you, there’s a chance you could be captured, just like Marko.”
&n
bsp; Janiis would have major leverage against both kingdoms of the Plateau. I cupped a handful of sand and let it trickle between my fingers as I sifted through options. We’d need help to get into the palace with enough flair that Janiis couldn’t sneak Ren away. More help than Aleksa’s network of servants could probably give. Not when they were in such danger already.
“So what if we don’t sneak in?” I said again. I let the rest of the sand fall through my fingers. We didn’t have any other options, no matter how much I didn’t want to call in this favor. “I know someone who could get you arrayed like a king. You could make a big entrance, splash it in front of everyone so you can’t be taken quietly.”
“Who?” Aleksa asked quietly.
“Sennor,” I said, watching her carefully.
Her eyebrows shot up. “You cannot trust a Riigan nobleman.”
“Has he supported Janiis in his new policies?”
Aleksa leaned to the side. “Not exactly, but he hasn’t outright opposed him, either.”
“You said anyone who opposes Janiis mysteriously reverts to supporting him, though. Maybe he’s protecting himself.” I straightened my back and clasped my hands gently in front of me. It was a tactic one of my tutors had employed—appear at peace, and lure your opponent into letting down their guard. “Just because some of the Riigan nobility choose to follow Janiis doesn’t mean you have to distrust all of them. There are good people here. We can’t lose hope.”
Aleksa set both hands on her hips. “You would risk your father’s fate on this?”
I resisted the impulse to fidget. “Can you think of another way?” She didn’t respond. “He owes me a favor.”
Ren’s hand was wrapped around his sword, though I didn’t know why.
“He can get us trunks of clothes to carry in, horses. Maybe even lend us his guards. He probably knows someone who could find me a decent dress, and I—”
“No,” Ren cut in, glaring at me. “Absolutely not. Even if your friend is trustworthy, you are not going into the palace with me.”
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