Kate motioned Bonner over to her. “Can you remove this woman’s collar?” She indicated the nearest wilder, who’d managed to sit up but hadn’t yet tried to stand. She wore a collar studded with glowing magestones designed to stop a wilder from using their magic. Bonner waved his hand at the woman’s neck, and the metal melted away like ice.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Kate said, encouraged by how easily he’d performed the magic.
“I know. I feel nearly myself again,” Bonner replied, unsmiling.
If only that were true, Kate thought, watching as he removed the next collar, and the next.
She turned back to the woman. “Can you use your magic?”
“Magic?” The woman stumbled over the word, as if Kate had spoken in a foreign language. But then she glanced down at her palm, and water appeared as if she cupped a miniature fountain in her hand.
“Good, you’re going to need it.” Kate closed the woman’s fingers, and the water disappeared. “How long have you been here?”
She blinked slowly. “How . . . long?”
Dismayed, Kate plunged into the woman’s mind. A small, quiet voice in the back of her head admonished her for the invasive act. Once, not long ago, she never would’ve combed through someone’s mind like this, as if she had a right to these memories, these thoughts and feelings. But there was no time to consider the morality of what she was doing—her desperate need to find Kiran outweighed everything.
The woman’s thoughts were dull and hazy, as if she’d been drinking. The effect was so powerful that for a second, Kate nearly forgot herself. Then she pushed through the haze to find what she needed. This woman had only been here some four weeks, and she hadn’t been out of this room much at all. She hadn’t seen any young boys who looked like Kiran. Kate withdrew, impatient to move on with her search.
Corwin approached her. “Everyone’s free of the collars, but we’re having a hard time making them understand what they need to do. They must be drugged or something. Can you help?”
Kate nodded, knowing at once what he wanted her to do. A few moments before, it would’ve been impossible, but now her magic swelled inside her, making her feel both full and light and complete all at once. Closing her eyes, she stretched out with her sway, pulling all the minds toward her like kites on a string. In an instant she conveyed the plan—that they were all to wait here, silent and still, and when the time came to leave they needed to be ready to use their magic on the guards.
She withdrew a moment later. “It’s done.”
Leaving Tira and Dal to stay with this group, Corwin and the rest moved on to the next house. Instead of a single, large room, this one held a long hallway lined with doors on each side, locked and windowless. Individual cells, Kate guessed. They wasted no time opening the first few doors, Bonner using his magic with careless ease.
When one of the doors opened to reveal Kiran inside, Kate couldn’t stop the shout of joy that escaped her throat. She dashed into the room, reaching for him.
With a startled look, Kiran jumped back from her, fists raised to defend himself. Then recognition lit his face. “Kate!”
She pulled him into her arms, hugging him so tight he gave a grunt. Her mind reeled from the shock of how different he looked, how much older, bigger.
“Come on,” Kate said, loosening her grip. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“No,” said a voice from the other side of the room. Kate looked up to see Vianne, Kiran’s mother, standing in the far corner and watching Kate with bloodshot eyes. Her face was bruised with fatigue.
“What do you mean, no? We’re getting all of you out of here.”
Biting his lip, Kiran took a step back from Kate and shook his head.
“We can’t leave, Kate,” Vianne said. “You don’t understand—”
She broke off at the sound of a commotion outside, voices raised in anger. Kate turned to the door as Francis stepped through it, dragging a woman behind him—Anise, one of the wilders captured at the same time as Vianne and Kiran.
“Kate!” Francis said through gritted teeth. “Make her stop fighting me. Make her come.”
“Let go of me, Francis.” Anise tried to jerk free of his grasp, her face purpled with anger. “I’m staying. Let go!”
Kate gaped, confused that Anise, Vianne, and Kiran would refuse to be saved. What was going on? She began to ask, only to be silenced by the sound of gunfire. She and Francis exchanged a startled look. It could only be one of their people—revolvers were as rare as magic outside of Rime.
“Let’s go.” Kate grabbed her brother by the arm. He pulled back, but Kate didn’t let go. Not until Vianne stepped forward and sunk her nails into Kate’s forearm.
Anger cut through her disbelief, and without a second thought, Kate reached into Vianne’s mind, grabbed hold of her thoughts, and forced her will into submission. A moment later she did the same to Kiran and Anise. She didn’t understand what made them want to stay, but she wasn’t going to wait around to find out with armed guards on the way.
Kate stepped out into the hallway, dragging her wards behind her. She felt them fighting against her at each step, their minds like eels, slippery in the hands of her magic.
Corwin dashed down the hallway toward them. “Go . . . go . . . go!”
“What about the rest?” Kate ran her gaze over all the open doors.
“They won’t come,” Bonner said, joining them. “Can you make them?”
Kate reached toward the other wilders, sensing them, but the moment she tried to engage, she almost lost her grip on Kiran, Vianne, and Anise. They fought her so relentlessly it took all her concentration and strength to hold them. She shook her head.
“Watch out,” Corwin said, as several Sevan guards came through the doorway. He pulled out his revolver, but before he could fire, Bonner crushed the guards’ swords with his magic, rendering them useless. Then he and Corwin mowed them down.
Turning away from the carnage, Kate moved toward the exit with her captives in tow. Outside, Tira and Dal were leading the first set of prisoners out of the house. As before, the wilders remained sluggish and dull-witted, only a couple of them using their magic against the attacking guards.
The entire prison was aware of their presence by now. Still, with the help of their revolvers, they were able to keep the danger at bay until they reached the steps. Dal led the way up with the wilders following behind him. Vander went next with Tira quick on his heels. Behind her, Francis dragged Anise along by the arm. Reaching the steps, Kate sent Vianne and Kiran up first. Corwin and Bonner brought up the rear after her. Bonner paused several feet up the stairs and turned around long enough to destroy the stone steps with his magic, preventing the guards from following that way.
They climbed as fast as they could, the stairs steep and treacherous. On the ground below, a dozen Sevan guardsmen had formed a line, bows in hand. They nocked arrows and drew back to fire.
“Bonner!” Kate shouted. “Stop them!”
Bonner raised his hand as the guards loosed the arrows. They took flight, only to be halted by Bonner’s magic. But already the bowmen were drawing again, even as more guards swelled their numbers. It seemed if they couldn’t prevent the prisoners from escaping, they would kill them instead.
“I can’t stop them all!” Bonner shouted, his face contorted from the effort.
A loud crack echoed over Kate’s head, the sound like lightning striking the ground. She looked up to see a huge chunk of the pit wall being wrenched away. Another glance showed her it was Francis, his arms outstretched as he guided it, his face strained with the same effort Bonner had shown. The huge slab of stone hovered beside them as a shield.
“Keep going,” Francis yelled through gritted teeth.
They charged onward, their steps punctuated by the sound of arrows bouncing harmlessly off the stone. Kate’s legs began to burn, and her breathing grew labored. The top loomed far above them, an eternity away. But they only needed to ge
t out of reach of the arrows.
“Kate,” Tira called from ahead of her. “You’ve got to kill those guards before they kill us.”
“I can’t!” She didn’t have the breath to explain how Kiran, Anise, and Vianne struggled against her even now, worse than before. Kate could feel their panic—their terror—at leaving the pit. If she let go, she didn’t know what they would do.
“Please, Kate,” Francis said, his face purpled from the effort of holding the stone.
Glancing down at the guards below, she knew she could kill them with her sway, easily and quickly, and likely not risk losing the wilders’ minds completely. But she didn’t want to. She’d killed that way only once before and it haunted her still. She could just put them to sleep instead, but that would take longer. Indecision taunted her. They are our enemies, she heard Corwin saying to her once again.
Reaching the limits of his magic, Francis let out a strangled cry and stumbled to his knees, arms dropping to his sides. The stone slab fell as he did and struck the side of the steps with a noise like a mountain being rent in two. Below, the guardsmen seized their chance, bows raised for another volley. At once, Kate reached out with her magic to subdue them, but she was slowed by the strain of holding Kiran, Vianne, and Anise. Before she could reach them all, one guard let loose an arrow. It flew toward Kate, so fast it was almost invisible. A heartbeat later, she felt the pain tear through her mind, realizing too late that it wasn’t her pain.
But Kiran’s.
Turning, Kate saw the arrow protruding from his chest, his features already slackening, his body going limp.
“NO!” She reached for him, but her hands found only air as he slid off the edge. It was over in a moment, his body crashing to the floor below. Before Kate could even scream, she watched another body plummeting to the ground after Kiran. In Kate’s distraction she’d let go of her other wards, and Vianne had jumped, compelled both by her son and whatever force had been working so hard to draw her back to the pit. With a sickening lurch in her stomach, Kate turned to see that Anise too was trying to leap off the edge, held back only by Francis’s tight grip on her.
“Stop her, Kate.” The muscles in his arms rippled from the effort to hold her.
Kate grabbed Anise’s mind with her magic. As before, the woman fought her, but Kate wrestled her under control. All the while the terrible truth beat in her brain—Kiran is dead. Kiran is dead. She hadn’t saved him. She’d hesitated and he’d fallen. Oh gods.
“Move!” Corwin shouted from below Kate. His voice cut through her thoughts, reminding her there were other lives at stake. Staving off her grief, she renewed the climb with the others.
They didn’t make it far before there was another crack like lightning hitting ground. A violent tremble rocked the stairs, throwing Kate forward onto her hands and knees. The crack sounded again, louder and nearer than before. She glanced behind her toward the source of the noise and saw Corwin and Bonner were on their knees as well, but farther away then they’d been. A rift had appeared in the steps, dividing her from them.
“Corwin! Bonner!” she screamed. “Jump!”
Corwin scrambled to his feet, but before he could make the leap, there was a third crack, and this time the rest of the stairs beneath Corwin and Bonner fell away, a landslide of stone and dirt that dragged them both down, slowly at first, then faster, until they both plummeted toward the ground as Kiran and Vianne had done moments before.
Kate lost sight of them in the cloud of dust and didn’t know where they’d fallen. But she didn’t need to. She’d seen Kiran’s. It was a fall no one could survive, and the truth of it made the world shatter around her, her heart seizing in her chest.
“Come on, Kate.” Hands grabbed her shoulders, pulling her up, forcing her to stand.
“No,” she said, reaching for her love and her friend, as if she could will them alive by her mind alone. She stretched out with her magic as far as she could, but she couldn’t sense either Corwin or Bonner down below.
Dal knelt beside her, mouth to her ear. “They’re gone, Kate, but Corwin would want you to survive.” Dal’s voice was like steel, hiding his own pain beneath it. Corwin had been his best friend for years, same as Bonner had been hers.
Dead dead dead. The truth filled her mind, overwhelming her until nothing else existed.
“Come on,” Dal said, hauling her forward now. “You can’t give up, Kate. Signe is counting on us.”
At the sound of her name, Signe’s face appeared in Kate’s mind, through the black of her despair. Signe, another close friend, someone she loved. If Kate died here, Signe would feel the same pain Kate felt now. Dal was right. They needed to escape, to live.
Blinded by tears, Kate finished the climb. Once up, they crossed the field back to the wall and out into the city, sneaking their way down alleys and side streets until they reached the harbor where Signe waited on the ship to carry them back to Rime.
Home. Just as Corwin had promised.
Only he’d been wrong. He wasn’t there to tease her with his stranger’s face as she lay down for sleep that night. She was alone. And when the ship reached Rime’s shores at last, she stepped onto her home soil feeling like a person rent in two. For a part of her remained in Seva, lying dead in that pit with Kiran, Bonner, and Corwin. Three parts of her heart, torn asunder.
Part One
The Prisoner and the Wilder Queen
1
Kate
One year later
KATE SURVEYED THE NEW RECRUITS with a critical eye as they practiced their sword drills. In a single glance she could tell which of them would die first and which might last longer.
It was an old habit, one she needed to break now that the worst of the fighting was over. The war hadn’t even lasted that long, less than a year from when the Rising first took control of the city of Farhold until High King Edwin finally agreed to an armistice. Taking the city had been a strategic move. The wilder rebels and rogue magists that had made up the Rising were powerful but few in number, enough to hold a single city, so long as that city was self-sustaining, as Farhold was. It had been a modest goal, a modest desire—a single city where wilders could be free to live without fear of being hunted down for their magical powers, a safe haven for any wilder in Rime or anyone else who wished to support them. But the cost had been high. Edwin, with the backing of the Mage League, refused for months to concede the city, forcing the Rising to attack as well as defend. So many dead. So many wounded, so many lives changed forever.
Unconsciously, Kate’s gaze slid off the recruits and onto the tattoos of flames running down her right arm, bared in the sleeveless jerkin she wore despite the chilly spring air. Trailing from her shoulder to elbow, each one represented a life of a lost loved one. The next moment, her hand was rising of its own accord to touch the first and largest of those flames covering the point of her shoulder. Her mouth opened, the name of the dead man on her lips. But just before she said it, she came back to her senses and dropped her hand away. This too was an old habit she needed to break. There was no point in reciting the names of the dead. Of dwelling on a past that could never be undone.
At least their sacrifices have proven worth it, Kate thought, taking in the familiar sprawl of the training fields and stables on the edge of Farhold that had once been owned by the Relay, the royal courier service of Rime. Now that they were occupied by the Rising, their purpose was to train soldiers. Armistice or not, the conflict was far from resolved. Wilders had fought and won their freedom. Now they needed to defend it from a world that still hated and feared them. And there were other threats, too, like the wilders still imprisoned in Seva, waiting for whatever purpose King Magnar intended. But Kate never let herself think of that too long, the memory like a wound that never healed.
“Are you attempting to look frightening or something?” said a voice from Kate’s right.
She turned toward the speaker, a bemused smile crossing her lips at the sight of Tira’s wry grin. The
two of them stood side by side on top of the training tower, which gave them the best vantage point to oversee the training activities below. “I learned the tactic from you, you know.”
Tira snorted, brushing back the two long braids of her hair behind her shoulders. “I wouldn’t dare take credit for it. You surpassed my teachings ages ago. And my reputation as well. I heard Jonas over there refer to you as Saint Kate only yesterday.”
“Saint?” Kate leaned against the railing to stare down at the cadet in question.
“Indeed. Saint Kate, the Wilder Queen.”
Saint Kate . . . Wilder Kate . . . Traitor Kate . . . So many names she’d worn. The realization made her weary. “I think I’m ready to be known as Hermit Kate, thank you very much.”
“You’re too young.” Tira rested her arms on the railing. The hilts of the two swords she wore strapped across her back perched above her shoulders like pet birds.
“Not nearly so young as that one.” Kate motioned to Jonas, a sandy-haired boy with a long neck that gave him a swanlike appearance. He looked hardly older than a child, despite being sixteen, the minimum age to serve in the Rising. Now, that is, Kate reminded herself. During the worst of the Wilder War, as they’d now begun to call it, boys and girls much younger wielded what weapons they could. The sight of children maimed and dead was a horror emblazoned on her brain, fueling her nightmares.
As Kate took in the boy’s stance, she wondered if he was one of those who could make it. The clumsy way he handled his practice sword didn’t inspire confidence. He scraped the tip of the blade against the ground as he did an upper strike, and when he went into the left fade afterward, the sword shook like a flag blown in the wind. He was so clearly unaccomplished that the other cadets were giving him a wide berth in the formation, as if afraid he might accidentally wound them. Although they carried mere practice swords for now, the dull-edged steel could still hurt.
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