My heart threatened to burst as I clawed frantically at her hand with my free one and threw my body weight into leaning away.
“Maybe I still will.” She let go.
I tumbled to the floor and crashed into the desk, clutching my arm to my chest. Razel stood over me, the fire leaping and roaring at her back, the shadows of her moonblades reaching up like two great claws above her shoulders.
“But as I said, I see no reason why we can’t be civil with each other.” She smiled another serrated smile, then stepped over me and disappeared into a connecting room.
Out of breath and desperate to escape the flames, I scrambled to my feet and bolted for the door, dashing down the hall before Kiva could even get a word out.
* * *
It took time for the fear to fade. When it finally did, it left a hollow pit in my stomach. Shame burned my cheeks, and I buried my head farther beneath my pillow as if it might spare me from my emotions. At first, Kiva had banged on my door, begging me to let her in. It’d made everything inside me twist and writhe. When she stopped, the stillness was worse.
That night with the carriage, now this. Razel hadn’t even burned me. She hadn’t needed to.
I hadn’t hesitated to clamber into bed and hide. The warmth and darkness of the sheets pulled me under, locking me in place. A new fear took root. What if I could never truly escape this?
The hollow pit in my stomach simmered. Razel must have noticed the way I’d reacted to the fire in the throne room, must have seen my burned hand and connected the two. She knew I was afraid of fire, and she’d used it against me at the first sign of defiance. And I’d let her.
The simmering turned hot and vicious. All I wanted was to hide beneath my covers and let the world fade away. Someone else would come. Someone capable. Someone unbroken. I could just lie here and wait until…until what? Until Razel conquered Korovi and Trendell and burned Rhodaire to the ground? Until she fulfilled her religion’s promise for ownership of the world?
I’d told Razel she couldn’t control me, and I’d meant it. I wouldn’t let her condemn me to a life weighed down to my bed. Not again.
Throwing back the covers, I changed from my still-damp dress into a clean one. As I tossed the old dress to the floor, a crumpled paper tumbled from one of the pockets. I scooped it up, unfurling it to reveal one of the Ambriellan boy’s flyers. Had he slipped it into my pocket?
Something had been scrawled across the top of the paper. I stared openmouthed at the word, then bolted from the room.
“Kiva!”
She catapulted off the couch, but before she could ask, I thrust the flyer in her face. Her eyes locked on the word at the top. Catternon. “That’s the password,” she said. “The one for communicating about the Ambriellan rebels in the Verian Hills. Where did you get this?”
I grinned, quickly filling her in on my run-in with the boy in the Colorfalls. Whoever he’d been, he hadn’t run into me by accident.
“We have to go see him tomorrow,” I said.
“Will Razel let you out of the castle?” Kiva asked. “And what in the Saints’ name happened earlier?”
I gritted my teeth at the mention of the queen but told Kiva everything.
“Zyuka!” she snarled, throwing her hands down onto the table before her. From my spot where I’d dropped onto the couch facing her, I let out a low whistle. Kiva rarely spoke Korovi.
“Agreed,” I replied, though I didn’t know what the word meant. “I should have expected it. Besides, I’m supposed to be keeping my head down, and challenging her wasn’t the best way to do that.”
“She sent your guards home! She’s trying to isolate you and make you easier to control.”
Was this why she hadn’t set the wedding date? She wanted to break me first? Caliza had said Razel didn’t make threats, but clearly, something had changed. She’d looked unhinged. “She’ll come after you next. It’s probably why she let you stay.”
Kiva snorted. “I’d like to see her try.”
Her confidence ate away at the anxiety inside me. “I won’t sit here like a pawn for her use. I’ll convince her to let me go.” I spread the paper out between us, pointing at the title. “I think this advertisement is real. It could be a good cover for coming and going from the castle.”
Kiva leaned closer. “A lab assistant?”
I nodded. “More than that, he might be able to help us hatch the egg.” She looked up at me, her lips already parting to tell me it was a foolish idea. I hurried on. “No one knows how, and the information’s not in any book I could find. So I need someone who can figure it out on their own.”
“You want to experiment on it?”
“It’s either that or do nothing.”
She frowned. “And what? Hope he doesn’t ask what this egg-shaped thing is doing with this very Rhodairen-looking girl? You can’t trust him.”
I spun the paper so the writing faced me. “First, he’s Ambriellan, so I don’t think he’ll be looking to turn me over first chance, particularly if he’s a rebel. And second, I’m not planning on bringing him the egg. But a few theoretical questions won’t hurt.”
Kiva leaned back, folding her arms. “I don’t like it, but I don’t have another idea.”
I smirked, scanning through the flyer again. At the bottom, written in almost illegible handwriting, was the address and his name: Caylus Zander.
Fifteen
It felt good to have a plan again, as difficult as it would be to enact. It relied on me playing a part I wasn’t sure I could. Razel wanted to control me, to break me, and like a desert snake with its prey, the more I riled against her, the more she’d constrict. So I had to stop reacting, stop challenging her, and instead play the demure, compliant little princess she wanted.
It started with asking for permission to leave the castle.
After my morning check on the egg, I sent a note to Razel asking to take a trip into the city, then left with Kiva for the training grounds, where we found a small space far away from Illucian soldiers to train. It felt like walking into a den of wolves. The force of their glares was palpable, as if each one of them were imagining the feel of their blade piercing my flesh.
Their treatment of one another wasn’t much better. All around us, they bested one another viciously in the sparring rings or at swordplay, leaving their opponents bleeding in the dust. There was no camaraderie here, no love or respect. Just sharp blades and the smack of bone against flesh.
My focus waned as Kiva and I stretched. I kept catching groups of soldiers looking at us, then quickly away, their laughter echoing across the foggy grounds. News of my encounter with Razel last night must have spread.
“Ignore them,” Kiva said.
I tried. I really did. But when one soldier imitated me cowering in fear to the snickers of her cohorts, I snatched up my bow, seized a dulled practice arrow, and nocked it. In one smooth movement, I turned, drew, and loosed. The arrow struck the practice dummy they were standing around between the eyes.
They stopped laughing.
Kiva grinned. “I forgot how good you were with that thing.”
Satisfaction warmed my blood, but as I turned the gold-veined black bow over in my hand, thoughts of Estrel crept in, and the feeling faded. How many hours had she spent teaching me to shoot with this bow?
The smile vanished from Kiva’s face, and I spun about to find Razel striding toward us, Shearen and another Vykryn her ever-present shadows. My skin instantly grew hot, my heart beating erratically.
Breathe. I drew a deep breath, holding it until my lungs burned, then let it out silently as the queen halted before us.
“I received your request, Thia dear.” She held up my note between two fingers, her head tilted like a predator considering its prey. “After last night, I have to say I’m concerned for the safety of my citizens. You clearly possess an unhe
althy amount of rage.” Her eyes slid from me to the arrow I’d driven between the dummy’s eyes. “What if you were to lose your temper and hurt someone?”
My eyes widened. I possessed an unhealthy amount of rage? I was a threat to her people? She’d practically tried to kill Ericen yesterday! I started to reply when something jabbed into my side. My gaze snapped down to the pommel of Kiva’s sword as she shifted it out of view.
Right. Demure. Compliant.
“I apologize for last night.” Each word scraped against my throat like hot coals, but I forced them out. “I panicked, and I reacted poorly. It won’t happen again.”
Razel’s kohl-lined gaze didn’t waver. A heartbeat later, I realized I hadn’t blinked either and quickly bowed my head.
“Very well,” the queen said.
I didn’t dare look up. I didn’t think I could control myself if I saw the satisfaction dripping from her voice reflected in her face.
Footsteps sounded and then faded, and I raised my head to watch her leave. Around us, the training Vykryn smirked and muttered to each other.
I forced myself to breathe against the sickening feeling twisting inside me.
Kiva stepped up beside me. “It’s worth it. Remember why you’re doing this.”
“I remember.”
* * *
We stepped out of the castle to a dry but clouded day, where a blue-and-gold carriage sat waiting with two Vykryn on horseback beside it. I exchanged looks with Kiva as she gave our driver the address and we climbed inside.
“We need a way to get rid of them,” I whispered.
Kiva peered out the window at one of the massive black horses as the carriage rumbled into motion. “They only care you don’t escape. Maybe they’ll stay outside.”
Several minutes later, we rounded a bend of houses, and the Colorfalls sprang into view. They were far more muted during the day, the colors turned pastel from the pale sunlight filtering through the parting clouds.
I asked our driver for directions, and he pointed at the bakery Ericen had taken me to. The warm smell of bread drifted out as we approached, the quiet music of a wooden wind chime jingling. A massive willow tree obscured nearly half the building, and thick green vines curled around the edges and along the roof.
Our Vykryn escorts dismounted and handed their horses off to the driver. Their presence made me uneasy, and I didn’t miss the casual placement of Kiva’s hand near Sinvarra. Like all Illucian soldiers, they moved like hunters. Lithe. Powerful. Dangerous.
Thankfully, they stayed outside when we entered the bakery. The inside was warm from the ovens, chasing the morning chill from my skin. Fresh bread and pastries filled baskets and glass cases, samples of cherry tarts set atop a stand by the door. I popped one in my mouth, the sweetness of the fruit coating my tongue, and barely avoided stepping on a snow-white kitten lapping milk from a tin.
A woman with a kind, round face stood behind the counter, shaping dough on a bed of flour. She smiled as we approached. “Can I help you?”
I pulled the flyer out of my pocket, swallowing my sample. “I’m looking for Caylus Zander.”
She dusted her hands on her apron, moving toward a door in the back. “Caylus!”
He appeared a moment later, his massive frame taking up most of the doorway. Something fluttered in my stomach. His bright-green eyes widened, and I smirked. He had flour in his hair.
I lifted the flyer. “I wanted to talk to you about this position.”
He looked at the paper, then over my shoulder. I turned, but the Vykryn weren’t visible through the window. Was he looking for Ericen?
“I… We can go upstairs.” He started to turn, stopped, and spun back, nearly knocking a mixing bowl off the counter with his elbow as he faced the woman. He seized the bowl, steadying it as he asked, “If you don’t need me?” She waved him off, and he stepped out from behind the counter, starting toward a staircase in the corner.
Kiva cast me a doubtful look, somehow managing to infuse her raised eyebrow with an ocean of sarcasm. Her hand hadn’t left Sinvarra.
We followed Caylus upstairs, the rickety wood creaking. The stairwell emptied onto a too-small landing, so Kiva stood on the stairs while Caylus undid the lock. And the next lock. And the next lock. I counted five, and his quivering hands prolonged the process before the door swung open.
I glanced at him, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze, and even in the dim light, I could see the scarlet creeping up the back of his neck.
The entryway led into a kitchen, which contained only a square island in the center, dusted with leftover flour. The wall behind consisted of a built-in brick oven, a loaf of bread cooling inside, and beside that a stove with a kettle set on top. A mix of morning buns and muffins sat on the island, filling the room with the smell of warm bread and sugar.
“Scientist, inventor, and baker?” I asked as Caylus removed his apron, setting it on the island. He wore a rumpled and patched tunic underneath. It hung loose and off kilter on his broad shoulders, revealing a swath of tanned, muscular chest. I stared until Kiva elbowed me in the ribs.
Caylus didn’t seem to notice. “I work in exchange for the rooms.” He dusted his hands off on his pants, coating them with flour. I waited, but he didn’t say anything more. He wouldn’t look directly at either of us, and he shifted his weight in a constant fidget.
“Right,” I said at last. “I’m assuming you know why I’m here?”
“Catternon,” he said, speaking the old language password from the flyer. It was an ancient name for the yearly festival the Ambriels held in honor of their sea god, Duren.
Kiva slowly canvassed the room. Besides the kitchen, there was a closed door to our right and a set of stairs that led to another closed door. She peered up the stairs, then pushed open the downstairs door to reveal an empty bedroom.
Caylus watched her silently, not interfering. Once Kiva seemed satisfied, I said, “You’re a rebel.”
He shook his head, then stopped as if reconsidering. “Sort of. Not really.” I raised an eyebrow, and he explained, “I know the leader, the one organizing the raids in the Verian Hills. She asked me to get a message to her contact in the castle, but when I saw you…”
“She has a contact in the castle?” Kiva asked. “Who?”
“And how did you know who I was?” I added.
Caylus shifted his weight again. “There aren’t many Rhodairens around here. Not any, I don’t think. And you were with the prince.”
So he had recognized Ericen. Yet he’d still intervened last night, knowing full well who he risked angering. An image of his scarred, shaking hands surfaced. Where had those scars come from?
He glanced at Kiva, then away again. “I think you should talk to her about this, not me. I owed her a favor.”
“Can you set up a meeting?” I asked. “Here, preferably. And soon.”
“Tomorrow evening? At sunset?”
I nodded, my heart rate rising. This was happening. “What about the assistant position? Is that real?”
He bit his lip. “It, um, doesn’t pay…”
Kiva snorted, but I said quickly, “That’s fine. I need a reason to come here, or the queen may be suspicious.”
At first, I thought he didn’t hear me, but then I realized his eyes were focused through the window over my shoulder, where the two Vykryn who’d accompanied us stood across the street.
“Something wrong?” Kiva asked, her tone low. “You look worried.”
“I—No. I’m fine. Anthia, right?” His eyes fell on me. His lilted Ambriellan accent turned my name into a song, and I half considered letting him call me by my full name just to hear it.
“Just Thia.” I jerked my head to the side. “This is Kiva. Don’t mind her. She wouldn’t trust a chair to stay still long enough to sit in it.”
Caylus blinked, his head tilting, t
he puzzled look on his face suggesting he hadn’t noticed Kiva’s insinuations at all.
“Do you know who I am, Caylus?” I asked. “What it is you’re involved in?”
“Unfortunately.”
I glanced at Kiva, but a small smile tugged at Caylus’s lips. He was joking.
Kiva hooked her arm through mine. “Right. See you tomorrow,” she said.
I waved as she jerked me toward the exit, closing the door behind us. As we descended the stairs, I heard the locks click.
We waved to the woman behind the counter and left the shop, the two Vykryn mounting as we climbed into the carriage.
The moment the door shut, Kiva said, “He’s weird.”
“I think he’s cute.”
“I don’t trust him.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t trust anyone.”
“There’s something not right about him. He gets this look in his eye like he’s planning something. I’ve seen it in criminals.”
“He’s an inventor. He probably thinks a lot.”
She leveled me with a flat stare, and I sighed, leaning forward. “He’s in a difficult spot, Kiva. He’s in enemy territory, helping to facilitate an alliance against them. Give him a break.”
“I’ll give him more than a break if he screws us over,” she muttered.
Sixteen
Our carriage pulled along the circular drive of the castle, but when the door opened, it wasn’t the driver standing alongside it. It was Ericen. He stepped aside as we climbed out.
“Did you enjoy your trip to the city?” he asked. The wound on his face had scabbed over, the bruising on the edges starting to fade.
“It would have been a lot better if I didn’t feel like a prisoner,” I replied, glancing at the two Vykryn.
“More like an honored guest.”
The Storm Crow Page 15
