by Sarra Cannon
“I love you,” he whispered.
“And I love you,” she said, arching her hips against him once more. They found a rhythm together, their eyes locked until he shattered and his eyes fell closed of their own accord.
Collapsing next to her, he maintained his hold on her hand as she curled up beside him, molding her body against his. She tucked her head under his chin, her cheek against his chest.
“Are you certain you want to leave?” she asked in a soft voice, her breath fanning over his skin.
“I want to be wherever you are, and nowhere else, for as long as you’ll have me,” he responded, tracing circles over her skin. She was a marvel, a work of such beauty he could scarcely believe she was real.
“Will you come with me to find my mother?” she asked, her voice small, hesitant.
Slipping his free hand under her chin, he coaxed her out of her burrow, tilting her head so that he could see her face. “Of course. I will be with you every step of the way, I promise you that.”
“Thank you,” she said, tears wetting her lashes. She kissed him, a slow, sweet kiss.
“When do you want to leave?” he asked, stroking her hair and kissing her brow.
“The sooner the better,” she said. She tried to make her voice sound strong, resolved, but he heard the waver in it.
“Tomorrow night? We’ve only a few hours until sunrise now.”
“Tomorrow,” she agreed.
They lay quietly for a while, kissing and caressing, then she rose up on one elbow with obvious reluctance.
“I must go. I want nothing more than to stay here with you, to wake up beside you, but if I am not at the manor in the morning someone will notice.”
“I know,” he said, sliding his fingers down a strand of her hair. His impulse was to cling to her, to refuse to let her out of his sight, but he knew what she was suggesting was the best course. They didn’t want to rouse suspicion. “Be careful. Come here straight away if you think you’re in any danger.”
“I will,” she promised.
He helped her dress, not bothering with his own clothing. His heart ached, and fear made his fingers icy, but he kept it to himself. She knew how to take care of herself, and she wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks.
Still, that knowledge wasn’t much consolation as she kissed him one final time and disappeared into what was left of the night.
Chapter 33
The enclave was quiet as Cianne slipped back within its walls. She knew it was her imagination, but the calm seemed unnatural, as if the enclave held its breath in preparation for the storm that was about to overtake it.
She could smell the scent of Kila’s skin on her, reminding her of everything that was at stake. There were larger issues than the welfare of the man she loved, than the discovery that her mother was still alive, she knew that. She cared about what had happened to the royal family, cared that her House had been intimately involved. Vengeance may have played a part in the decisions she had made, but she knew vengeance alone wasn’t reason enough. She wanted justice, not just for the royal family, but also for her mother, for Toran Stowley, and for everyone else who had placed themselves in peril to stand up for what was right. What Chief Flim and Vivie were doing was important, but protecting the people she loved was also important to Cianne. As pressing a matter as uncovering the conspiracy against the royal family was, seeing to the well-being of those about whom she cared was even more pressing to her.
Despite everything that had happened, despite all the treachery that had been uncovered, the dark secrets and unthinkable lies, she couldn’t prevent herself from feeling a pang as her manor came into sight. It stood as stolid and stunning as it had ever been, but she saw it now as rotten within. No matter how pretty the enclave looked from the outside, its appearance belied the corruption and filth lurking behind its walls. To acknowledge this was to watch everything she had ever known crumble to dust, and it hurt her. She had thought that the indifference and condescension of the other House members was the worst pain she could experience, but that was before her father, Moiria, the Elders, and Lach had destroyed everything she thought she had ever known.
Cianne had no desire to see her father, to offer a private goodbye that she did not dare speak aloud. He was no more her father than a random stranger on the street. Everything she thought she had ever known about him was a lie, his ambition so much worse than she could have imagined. There had never been any question in her mind that she couldn’t remain in the enclave. The thought of having to look at her father, to know what he had done, and to smile and pretend as though she were still ignorant was repulsive to her.
Yet as repulsive as it was, it was nothing to the unspeakable revulsion with which she thought of the elaborate act she would have to carry on with Lach if she stayed. She could never do it, never. She couldn’t pretend allegiance to a House that was so thoroughly devoid of any sense of morality, and she certainly couldn’t pretend to earn the approbation of the man who was nothing like the friend she had thought him. A very tiny part of her wanted to stay, to try to save him, but it was a part she could easily disregard. Lach might still be redeemable, but it wasn’t up to her to redeem him. Even if he were to redeem himself she doubted it would matter much to her. He was lost to her, had been lost to her the moment he had chosen to place his allegiance with the House rather than with those the House had wronged.
Climbing through an upper story window, Cianne’s heart leapt into her throat as she heard a servant coming up the corridor, and she nearly lost her footing and plummeted back out to the street below. She clung to the window frame while her pulse hammered against her collarbone. Levering herself inside, she fell, tucking her body into a ball, turning the tumble into a roll. She managed to throw herself into an empty guest room as the servant rounded the corner, and she had to remain hidden within for a full five precious minutes, until her pulse and breathing slowed enough for her to move again.
Fine night for a servant to be sneaking back in from a late-night assignation, she thought, irrationally furious with said servant.
But was it simply a matter of a servant out on the prowl? Was someone looking for her, checking to make sure she was safely shut inside the manor? Perhaps despite all the care she had taken someone had seen her sneaking out and had alerted her father.
Or perhaps the sneaking servant was involved in yet another of the House’s schemes. Had her father entrusted any of them with delivering his clandestine messages? All this time, had he been conducting a secret network right under her nose? As much as she hated to admit it, the thought pricked at her pride.
What did any of it matter? It was no longer her concern. The only thing she needed to concern herself with was getting to her quarters so that she could pack. Soon she would be far away from all this, and whatever peril she might face at her mother’s side was surely better than this. After years of skulking around, fearing the shadows, Cianne was quite certain she would prefer open danger to hidden menaces.
There’s no more time to waste, she told herself. Breathing in, she cracked open the guest room door and peeked out into the corridor, listening. Silence.
She had no other run-ins on her way to her quarters, though she couldn’t stop thinking about the servant sneaking around. Then again, how did she know it was a servant? She had assumed her father wasn’t likely to be skulking around his own manor, but she should know better than that by now.
Her mind was still alight with a variety of paranoid fears when she made it back to her sitting room to find Vivie within.
“Where have you been?” Vivie gasped, hurrying over to Cianne. She grabbed her mistress’s hand and dragged her toward her bedchamber.
“I was… out,” Cianne said, a blush creeping over her cheeks.
“You were with that Enforcement officer,” Vivie said in a brisk voice. She kept it low, hushed, as if afraid someone might overhear them even here.
Her cheeks blazing brighter, Cianne asked, “What are
you doing here?”
Vivie didn’t answer, and Cianne’s astonishment scaled to new heights when Vivie rolled aside the rug and lifted the floorboard, pulling items out of what Cianne had deluded herself into thinking of as her secret hiding place.
“How long have you known about that?” she asked, sputtering.
“It would be easier to answer the question of how long haven’t I know about it. That was a far shorter period of time.”
Cianne’s face went white, and she dropped to the end of her bed. “Do the other servants know?”
“Of course not. Why do you think I hover so? Why do you think I became your maid in the first place?”
“Did she ask you to do it?” Cianne asked, anger leaping to the fore.
“Yes,” Vivie said, not bothering to dissemble. “I made her a solemn promise years ago that I would keep you safe, and I intend to keep that promise. Now hold your tongue and come help me with this. We haven’t much time.”
The slight tremor in Vivie’s voice sent icy tentacles of fear throughout Cianne’s body, and she heaved herself from the bed onto the floor, helping Vivie gather her things, their hands blurs as they rolled her clothes and stuffed them into her pack.
“Why are you here? What’s happening?” Cianne asked.
“You have to flee now.”
“Now? That’s impossible! It’s almost dawn, and I’m not prepared!”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“I appreciate the assistance, really, I do, but helping me pack won’t get me outside of the city walls before morning breaks.”
“I know a way,” Vivie said, stuffing one final article of clothing into Cianne’s pack and thrusting it at her. “Gather your weapons.”
Biting back her questions, Cianne did as she was told. Vivie’s carefully controlled manner frightened Cianne, spurring her to make short work of packing her things.
“Did someone expose me? Did Lach say something?”
Vivie’s face twisted in disgust. “No, the dashing captain has kept your secret, thus far. But Officer Burl is asking questions about Officer an Movis that are rather uncomfortable, and the Elders have agreed that every member of the House must be kept under tighter surveillance.”
“Why?” Cianne asked, not even surprised as Vivie went to the secret hiding spot in her jewelry chest and began raiding it.
“I don’t know yet. Something about Toran Stowley’s study, I think. I was a little too concerned with getting you out of the city in one piece to spare much attention for the details.”
“Cearus’s mercy,” Cianne gasped, covering her mouth. She was so terrified that her fingers jerked as violent shivers overtook her body. “They noticed the ledger is missing.”
“You took it?” Vivie asked, her voice sharp as she whirled on Cianne. Then she paled, darting glances all around the room as if searching for hidden eyes.
“Yes, I did. Burl thinks Kila took it.” It wasn’t a question. The realization made Cianne sick to her stomach with worry. What if Burl got to him before Cianne could make it back to his lodgings? If he were to disappear this time, chances were very good she would never see him again.
“Probably,” Vivie said, moving with even more haste. She showed no reaction to Cianne’s using Kila’s first name rather than referring to him as Officer an Movis, but then Cianne thought she would have been hard-pressed to be shocked to discover that Vivie was actually an Intentionist. How ironic that she had often thought sneeringly of how oblivious the rest of the House was when she had been every bit as oblivious as them.
“Is Burl going after him? Are the Elders?”
“I don’t think they’ll move just yet. Burl doesn’t trust that Enforcement is secure, and she thinks that if they’re too hasty someone will notice something amiss.”
“She knows about the chief?” Cianne asked, her stomach clenching.
“No, we don’t think so. You think an Movis is good? You ought to see Flim in action.” A mixture of pride and amusement slipped into Vivie’s tone. It struck Cianne that perhaps there was more to Vivie’s and Flim’s relationship than met the eye.
“I’m not leaving the city without Kila.” Balling her hands into fists, Cianne paused long enough to level a challenging glare on Vivie, who held up her hands in surrender.
“We thought as much. I’ll lead you both out.”
“Are you coming too?”
“No. I’ve more work to do here, and I’ll not leave Flim alone to earn all the glory. Here, take these too,” Vivie said, bringing Cianne her journal, a hair pin that had belonged to her mother, and a couple of other items. “It’s not wise to leave anything incriminating behind.”
“You think my disappearance won’t look incriminating enough?” Cianne asked, scoffing.
“Of course it will, but my associates and I will take the trouble to obscure things, plant a few rumors, make it look as though you fled for love. Wouldn’t be the first time it had happened, you know, but I’m sure your mother can fill you in on all that. Seeing as how Officer an Movis will also be disappearing, it won’t take long for the gossip to spread. I’ll of course have to confess all, as my part is sure to come under suspicion. It’ll distract everyone, provide you with some cover. It won’t fool your father, Moiria, or the Elders, of course, but it will complicate matters for them.”
It would infuriate Lach, but Cianne kept that thought to herself. Let it. She didn’t think it was too base an emotion for her to feel some smug satisfaction at the thought. Lach hadn’t actively participated in the House’s nefarious plans, not yet, but he was complicit, and that was enough to take at least some of the shine off what Cianne felt for him.
“Well, my life has always been about making things difficult for them,” she said sourly, bringing a smile to Vivie’s face. “But what about you? You won’t be safe.”
Vivie surprised Cianne by embracing her. “You let me worry about that. Cearus’s left knee, but if I’m not fond of you. Listen to me: don’t give your mother too difficult a time. Go easy on her.”
“I’m not certain I can promise you that.” A muscle in Cianne’s cheek twitched.
“Try. That’s all I’m asking. She’ll explain everything to you.”
“Let’s go,” Cianne said, both impatient to be gone and impatient to stop speaking about her mother.
“You’ve got your way of moving and I’ve got mine. It’s best if we split up. I’ll meet you at Officer an Movis’s lodgings and guide you from there.”
“Be careful,” Cianne said, seizing the other woman’s wrist, forcing her to pause. “A servant was creeping about when I got back in tonight.”
Shaking her head, eyes full of mirth, Vivie said, “Tell me something I don’t know. Who do you think was doing the creeping?”
“That was you?” Closing her eyes for a brief second, Cianne sagged with relief.
“I was looking everywhere for you. As I said, I’ve got my ways of moving about too.”
“This is all a rather embarrassing lesson in why I shouldn’t overestimate my own abilities,” Cianne grumbled.
“I’m not knocking yours. You’ve surprised us all, I’m pleased to say. And that’s enough praise for one night. Wouldn’t want to swell your head,” Vivie said. Gripping Cianne’s wrists, Vivie met her eyes, her expression turning deadly serious. “Make haste. And, Cianne, be careful.”
“You too.” Giving Vivie’s hand a squeeze, Cianne dashed off to her sitting room and shimmied out her window.
Chapter 34
Though he had tried his hardest to preserve it, Cianne’s warmth had faded from Kila’s bed. He might have deceived himself that she had never been there at all, that everything that had happened between them had been nothing more than the most delicious dream he had ever dreamed, but her scent lingered. Exhausted as he was from everything that had happened, sleep had eluded him, his mind too alternately occupied by memories of what they had shared and the creeping sense of dread that would not cease to insinuate itsel
f in his mind. Not persuading her to stay had been a mistake, he was certain of it, and he felt as though a boulder had settled on his chest, crushing him with the weight of his fears.
A shadow passed his bedroom window, and Kila bolted upright. Drawing a dagger from under his pillow, he slipped it beneath his sheet in order to conceal it. He held his breath for several long beats but refused to allow himself to relax when nothing more happened.
Perhaps his worries were affecting him more than he wanted to admit, but he was not prepared to dismiss the shadow as a figment of his overactive imagination. He had just resolved to go outside and search his garden when the shadow appeared again, this time resolving itself into a form that slithered into his room. He knew immediately it was Cianne, but rather than relieving him the realization filled him with alarm.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered to her, his voice no more than an exhalation of breath.
She held a finger up, warning him to be quiet, and he slowly moved his legs to the edge of the bed, taking care not to rustle his bedclothes. Crouched below the sill so that she could not be seen from the outside, Cianne lingered by his window for several unendurable seconds before moving closer to him. Bending down, she brushed her lips over his ear and spoke directly into it, so low he had to strain to hear her despite her proximity.
“Vivie caught me when I was coming back into the manor. She said we have to flee right away.”
He opened his mouth to protest but she laid a finger over it.
“I know, I’ve already said it all to her. Please, get dressed and pack what you need. Vivie will be here any second.”
Swallowing his protest, he nodded and got out of bed. She rushed around the room noiselessly, tossing his clothing to him and jamming things into a bag she had made appear.
His pulse raced and his ears strained as he yanked on his clothing. Every common nighttime sound now struck him as a potential threat. Those two men laughing raucously in the street? They might be on their way to seize him and Cianne. Was that the whinny of a horse? Had he heard a sword rattling, or was it his imagination?
