by Amy Tintera
“Was this all for Olivia?” he asked suddenly. The words shot out of his mouth as if they refused to be contained a moment longer.
“Yes,” she said, without turning around. “And a little bit of vengeance, if I’m being honest.”
“What if you had died in the castle?” he asked. “What if you hadn’t escaped in time? You must have known that was a possibility.”
Her eyebrows knitted together as she glanced back at him. “It was more than a possibility. That’s why Aren was there. The hope was that one of us would make it out. Given how strong his Ruined magic is, my money was on him.” She shrugged. “And if that failed, at the very least I had the warriors and a promise from the Olso king that he would do his best to stop Lera from executing all the Ruined.”
The word executing vibrated through his body, pricking emotions he didn’t want to feel. If his father were here, he would say that Em’s actions only proved his point—the Ruined deserved to die. They were too dangerous to live.
And Cas would have told him that Em was only one person, like her mother was only one person. He hadn’t met Olivia, but perhaps the whole family was a black mark on the Ruined.
Or maybe we did this to them. He beat down the words as soon as they bubbled up, but the sick feeling they brought remained. What kind of life must Em have lived, to be perfectly willing to walk into that kind of danger? To marry him, knowing full well that it might lead directly to her death?
He wondered suddenly what Em had been like before—when she still had her parents and sister and before she knew how to walk without making a sound. Had she been angry and bitter about her lack of Ruined power? Or had she thrown herself into other things, like learning to wield a sword? Her skill with a blade certainly hadn’t developed over the past year. She’d spent a lifetime honing that skill.
He shifted his gaze to her to find her glancing back at him again. Something about her face was different since he’d found out who she was. It wasn’t just that he knew who she was; it was as if something had shifted inside her. He hadn’t realized she’d been tense around him, but he recognized the absence of it now.
He quickly looked away. He wished he could shut off his brain and stop wondering about her. It must have been easier to be his father, to be certain in his hate for the Ruined, to be unable to see shades of gray.
She stopped, putting a hand out behind her to indicate he should stop as well. Her fingers curled around the hilt of her sword, but she didn’t pull it out, and he followed her lead.
Two figures passed through the trees. Cas and Em both hit the ground at the same time, crouching in the dirt. The men’s voices were low, muffled, but their white-and-red jackets were clearly visible from this distance. Warriors.
A small open-air wagon passed by with two Lera soldiers bound together in back. He swallowed, wondering how many of the soldiers had been captured on their way to the Southern Mountains. Would his mother and Jovita even be able to make it? What would they find when they arrived?
He stood as the warriors headed in the direction of the city. He took a few steps forward until he could see a small cluster of wooden buildings. Warriors swarmed all over the area. They’d taken the city.
“I’m sorry,” Em said softly.
His anger at her flared up without warning, and he barely held back from screaming Whose fault is that? at her. But the last thing he needed was to attract the attention of those warriors, or any others in the area. His jaw tightened, and she lowered her eyes, like she could tell what he was thinking.
They turned away and headed back into the cover of jungle. His shoulders slumped as he walked, and Em kept glancing at him like she wanted to say something. Apparently there was nothing to say, because she was quiet on the walk back.
Aren’s voice rang out suddenly, loud and clear. “I told you, she’s not here.”
Em came to a halt.
“Keep him quiet,” another voice hissed, barely audible.
Cas crept forward with Em until they could see the source of the voice. Iria, Koldo, and Miguel stood a few paces away, Miguel with his arm in a makeshift sling and a sour expression on his face. There were three others, and Francisco was on the ground with a gruesomely twisted neck. The other three were in a circle around Aren, who had his hands bound and a strip of white cloth tied around his head as a blindfold.
“She took off. We had to split up,” Aren said, much louder than necessary. He was trying to warn Em.
Cas glanced over to find a pained expression on her face as she watched. She reached for her sword and began pulling it out, like she was going to attack.
He grabbed her hand, stopping her. She swallowed, throwing another desperate glance at Aren.
“Spread out,” Miguel said. “She can’t have gone far, if he’s here.” He jabbed a finger at Iria. “Not you.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, taking a step closer to Aren. “I’d prefer to stay with him anyway.”
“Koldo, watch her,” Miguel spat. “Otherwise the Ruined might be gone when we get back.”
Em wrapped her fingers around Cas’s, tugging him gently. Regret was etched across her features as she glanced back at Aren. She was going to leave him.
They stepped away from the warriors carefully, quietly, then broke into a run. Cas jumped over vines and weaved around holes in the dirt as he followed Em. His legs were longer than hers, and he could have gone faster. He could have sped around her and taken off in his own direction and left her behind. He didn’t. He stayed behind her, for no other reason than it seemed exactly the right thing to do.
When they slowed to a stop they were both breathing heavily, and Cas put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the area. A rustling sound came from somewhere to his left, and he spun around, searching for the source. Nothing.
Em darted behind a tree, pressing her back to it, and Cas did the same across from her. He carefully withdrew his sword. Footsteps echoed through the jungle.
The footsteps slowed, then stopped.
A bead of sweat trickled down Cas’s forehead, but he didn’t dare move to wipe it away. He was still breathing heavily, and he worked to become silent.
The footsteps drew closer, until the tip of a white jacket appeared in Cas’s peripheral vision. Miguel.
He turned. His eyes met Cas’s.
Cas spun away from the warrior, before he even attempted to attack. Miguel dove for him. Cas flicked his sword up, shoving it straight into the warrior’s stomach. Miguel opened his mouth to yell, his sword spinning in his wrist haphazardly.
Em’s sword sliced across the warrior’s neck. His head toppled to the ground.
The body slumped into the dirt, and Cas noticed that Em had to look away, her face crinkling in disgust.
“Take his sword,” she said. “It’s better than the one you have.”
Cas dropped the rusty sword and grabbed the warrior’s.
“Let’s go.” She broke into a run.
When they came to a stop again, Cas pointed in the direction of the river. “A boat would be easier.”
She took a sip of her water and handed it to him, wiping a hand across her mouth. “Of course it would. But we don’t have one.”
“A lot of the people who live around here have rowboats,” he said. “I remember it from my last visit to Gallego City. We could snatch one.”
“Sure, we could try.”
“I want to be clear about something,” he said slowly. “We were sending Lera soldiers to hunt you down and bring you to Lera for execution.”
“I figured.”
“You should be brought to justice for what you did.”
“And your father should be brought to justice for what he did.” She held his gaze.
“That doesn’t excuse what you did.”
“I’m not saying that it does. I’m merely pointing out the facts.”
A hundred different emotions surged through Cas’s chest at once—anger, guilt, sadness, helplessness—and he tried
to find one to cling to. Anger was easiest. Anger could cover up all the other emotions, swallow them whole, and leave him with nothing but a burning fire in his stomach.
But a king had to be calm. Rational. He needed to act the way a king would.
“We’re going to the same place,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “It would be easiest for us to stick together. But as soon as we get there, I will have no problem ordering the Lera guard to arrest you.”
“So I should abandon you as soon as we get close, is what you’re saying.”
“I’m saying I’m not your friend. But I need your help, and you need mine, and I can put my anger aside for a few days if you can.”
She pressed her lips together, sadness stamped across her features so suddenly that Cas wanted to take his last words and stuff them back in his mouth. “Agreed.” She cleared her throat. “But can I explain something?”
He sort of shrugged, unwilling to give her permission but too curious to stop her.
“None of this was ever about you,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I used you. You—”
“You had to marry me, but it wasn’t about me?” he interrupted.
“You know what I mean. I’m sorry I had to hurt you to—”
“You didn’t hurt me,” he snapped. “You hurt my kingdom.”
She rubbed a finger across her necklace, her eyes on the ground.
He wanted to ask her why she hadn’t warned him about the attack. He wanted to ask if he was a complete idiot to think she’d developed feelings for him, despite everything. He wanted to know how she could leave him to die if she actually cared for him.
He couldn’t find the words to ask. Maybe he didn’t want to know the answer.
“I was trying to leave as soon as possible,” she said, her voice wavering the smallest bit. “I would have been gone in a matter of days if it weren’t for that painting.”
He shot her a furious look. “Is it supposed to make me feel better that you were miserable and trying to escape?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know what you meant.”
“No, you don’t!” Her voice rose. “I thought you’d be the same as your father. I didn’t expect you to be . . . to be . . .”
She twisted her hands together, her brow furrowing. His breath hitched in his chest. Every part of him was waiting, hoping, praying she was about to say she’d fallen in love with him. To confess that her feelings had been real and she wasn’t just pretending in order to get information out of him.
He almost laughed out loud at his pathetic state. Was he really hoping that a girl who had conspired to ruin his kingdom was actually in love with him?
“Well?” he asked, as the silence continued. “You didn’t expect me to be what? Gullible? Stupid?”
“Kind!” she practically yelled. “Reasonable! Thoughtful!” She hurled the words at him like they were insults, and he wasn’t sure how to react.
She whirled around and resumed walking without waiting for a response. He hesitated for a moment, letting the words sink in.
Kind, reasonable, thoughtful. It wasn’t love or an admission of wild, passionate feelings, but he realized he liked her three words more. Love would have been easy, another easy lie in a long line of lies. Love would be easy to dismiss.
But kind, reasonable, thoughtful couldn’t be brushed off. They wriggled in and made themselves at home and breathed air in between the ache in his chest.
THIRTY-TWO
CAS HAD SAID nothing to Em since she’d stupidly told him he was kind. And reasonable. Did anyone like being called reasonable? She wouldn’t blame him if he hated her even more now.
She’d noticed he’d learned to step carefully and cover their tracks without her having to explain. He might have been ignoring her, but he was clearly taking mental notes about everything she was doing.
They were still fairly close to Gallego City, and small wooden homes dotted the river. It didn’t seem like the warriors had expanded past the city, but they walked carefully, both her and Cas’s hands constantly poised over their swords.
“There.” Cas pointed to a nearby home, with a dock stretching out into the river. A small rowboat was tied to a post on the dock.
She looked out at the sun, which had almost fully disappeared. She’d been skeptical about the boat when he mentioned it, because they’d be easily spotted on the river in daylight. But the warriors would be less likely to spot them at night. And they wouldn’t have to worry about leaving a trail.
Cas walked to the river and she followed, casting a glance over her shoulder as they reached the dock.
He crouched down next to the metal loop that the boat was tied to and tugged at it. “Get in,” he said to her as he worked on the rope.
She carefully stepped into the boat, keeping her hand on the dock as the boat tilted beneath her. “Is now the wrong time to mention that I’ve never rowed a boat?”
Cas smiled, cocking one eyebrow. “Seriously?”
His smile knocked her even further off balance, and she had to take a moment to steady her feet on the boat. “There aren’t a lot of rivers in Ruina. And we traveled by foot in Vallos because the hunters always congregated at the rivers.”
“See those hooks right there?” he asked, pointing. She nodded. “Put the oars through those.”
She grabbed the oars and sat down.
“And you’re definitely facing the wrong way.” One side of his mouth turned up as she felt her cheeks flush. She wasn’t sure if she was blushing because of his adorable amused expression, or because she was embarrassed to not know what she was doing.
“Hey!” The scream made both of them whirl around, and Em saw a guy standing in the doorway of his house. He took off toward them.
Em spun around and stuck the oars through the loops, keeping a tight grip on them. Cas yanked the rope free and tossed it away.
The man tore across the grass, his face furious.
“Move,” Cas said to her as he hopped into the boat. She did as instructed, handing him the oars. He leaned back, moving the oars over the water, and they pulled away from the dock.
The man pounded onto the dock and seemed to seriously consider jumping in. But Cas rowed quickly, smoothly, and had put a good distance between them and the dock within seconds.
“I’m sorry!” Cas yelled at him, and Em pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. He caught her expression and laughed. “What? I am.”
“First time you’ve ever stolen something?” she asked.
He cocked his head. “Yes. Unless you count all the fig tarts I’ve stolen from the kitchen.”
“Those fig tarts technically belong to you, so no, I don’t count them.”
He began to smile wider, but the grin abruptly disappeared. The familiar lump settled back into her throat. One minute of the old Cas was even more painful now that she knew that he would never smile at her like he used to.
“What was the first thing you stole?” he asked.
His smile was gone, but he hadn’t said the words like he was picking a fight. He squinted at the water, leaning backward and forward as he moved the oars.
“Food,” she said, after considering for a moment. “A few weeks after my father died. Me and Damian and Aren had gone on the run to Vallos, and none of us were experienced hunters. I was starving and this woman had dried beans sticking out of her bag. I swiped them and we ate for several days.”
“Did you feel guilty?”
“Not at the time, no. I didn’t really feel anything except rage then. Thinking back now, I wonder if she’d intended to eat that for several days as well.”
He nodded, still staring at the water. She didn’t know what that nod meant, and he didn’t offer a response, so she kept her mouth shut.
“And you really don’t have any Ruined power?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Did your mother intend for you to inherit the throne?” he asked.
“Really.” He lifted his eyebrows.
“Yes. She’s even more powerful than our mother was. Our people shouldn’t have denied me the throne after Olivia was taken, but I never disputed that she should have been the one to rule if she’d been there.”
“Ruined power is the only thing that matters when inheriting the throne?” he asked skeptically.
She shrugged. “It’s no more arbitrary than the firstborn inheriting.”
“I guess.” He looked at her for the first time since they’d started the conversation. “Was your mother disappointed?”
Em shook her head. “No. She thought I had other powers. Nonmagical ones, I mean.”
“Like what?”
“She said my strengths were being rational and calm. The ability to make people fear me. She said I inherited that from her. She had big plans for me, apparently. Leading armies and working as an extraction specialist.”
“An extraction specialist,” Cas repeated.
“Extracting information from people,” she said. Her guts twisted, and she had to look away from him. Would her mother have given her a choice? Or would that have been her job, whether she liked it or not?
“My father always said that extraction was Wenda’s specialty,” Cas said, his tone betraying a hint of bitterness.
Em stared at the water, wishing he hadn’t asked about her mother.
“He said her torture methods were unlike anything he’d ever seen. It was one of the reasons he had to invade.”
“And was that also why he took Olivia?” she snapped.
“Maybe he feared that her daughters were going to turn out exactly like her, considering she was already preparing one of them for a career in torture.” His voice rose, the oars moving faster.
“I can think of worse things than turning out like my mother!” As soon as the yell left her mouth she regretted it, but the anger swirled inside of her too violently to back down.
