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Lorian’s lips were firm, warm, tender. They caressed mine like we had all the time in the world. Like this kiss could last forever. I sighed against his mouth, and his tongue slipped between my lips to tangle
with mine.
His body was so hard. So large. Warmth spread from my stomach into my core. My knees went weak.
This was not at all like kissing the village boys. Lorian’s huge hand held me in place for him while he kissed me expertly. Thoroughly. He slipped his other hand to my lower back, pressing me close to him, and I shivered with want.
Tibris’s voice reached my ears. My usually mild-mannered brother was yelling all kinds of threats, Rythos and Marth holding him back.
Lorian pulled away and tucked my hair behind my ear. “Goodbye, Prisca.”
“Goodbye, Lorian.”
Tibris reached for my arm, practically dragging me away. Which was a good thing since I was still a little dazed.
“Are you crazy?” he hissed at me, leading his horse with his other hand. “The mercenary? Really?”
“He kissed me,” I snarled back. And that argument was weak. The moment Lorian’s mouth met mine, I’d participated wholeheartedly.
Tibris’s lips trembled in an almost-smile before he ruthlessly firmed them. “Fine. For now, how about you put your hood up and attempt to walk in a straight line?”
My cheeks flamed. Yes, I was walking unsteadily, as if I were drunk. After a single kiss. I was glad Lorian couldn’t see me now. His ego didn’t need the stroking.
What had he been thinking?
Oh, I knew what he’d been thinking. He wanted to make me think about him. It was yet another way to mess with my mind.
Well, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. As far as I was concerned, that part of my life was over. We were in the city now, which meant we needed to focus on rescuing Asinia and getting on a ship before the full moon. But gods, I’d miss the mercenaries.
“Where’d you get the horse?”
“Stole it,” Tibris said, his voice carefully neutral.
I sighed. My brother was good to his core. And because of me, he was now a wanted criminal. A thief. Of course, he was also a rebel.
I nodded, but my attention had caught on the scene in front of us. Next to me, Tibris went still.
The carriage was white and gold. But that wasn’t why my breath had stuck in my throat.
There was no horse attached to the carriage. And yet…it moved of its own accord.
“What magic is this?” I breathed.
“Stolen magic.” Bitterness seeped from each of my brother’s words.
“Move!” someone roared, and Tibris led his horse to the side of the road. Another carriage barreled past us, this one with a horse. Perhaps only the most powerful people in the city were using horseless carriages.
Lorian hadn’t warned me about this. From the way he’d talked about the king, it was clear he loathed him. And yet he hadn’t told me the people in the city would walk around using so much magic, it was clear they had received much, much more back than anyone living in the northern villages.
He’d wanted me to see it for myself. He’d known it would shock and enrage me, and he didn’t want to dampen that shock and rage by telling me about it.
“Where’s Vicer?” I asked, my gaze on a woman who used her magic to levitate a satchel as she walked down the street.
“He gave me an address.” Tibris pulled a note from his pocket, and I recognized our code.
“Did you know about this?” I nodded toward the woman casually using her power.
Tibris shrugged. “Vicer told me some of it. But he said I’d need to see the worst of it for myself in order to truly believe it.”
We’d turned left when we entered the city gates, and now we were standing in the southwest corner of the city. Tibris pulled out a rough map
—likely also from Vicer—and began frowning down at it.
“We need a stable for my horse,” he muttered. “There should be one a few streets north of here.”
I nodded, and we set off, both of us with the hoods of our cloaks up. I would have worried about looking suspicious, but the people here…
Merchants strolled by in clothes similar to ours—tunics and breeches and cloaks. Among them, the nobles wandered, men in tailored waistcoats and women in the kinds of dresses that would get them killed if they needed to fight.
But why would they need to fight? The people here obviously lived a charmed life, ducking into the bookstores and teahouses, the taverns and dressmakers. For one wild moment, I wanted to burn the city to the ground, if only to watch these privileged, ignorant people run for their lives.
“Prisca,” Tibris hissed, and I jolted. I’d pushed my cloak back off my face at some point, and I was glowering at the people going about their lives.
This was not how I would keep us alive. “Sorry.”
“I feel it too. But…”
“We have to be smart. I know.”
Tibris found the stables and instructed the boy who took his horse to tell him if anyone was in need of a mare. Regret flashed across his face, and my chest tightened. At some point, Tibris had obviously become fond of his stolen horse.
I followed Tibris north. Within a few minutes, clothing stores gave way to taverns. The stone beneath our feet became cracked, and we dodged pickpockets, prostitutes, and puddles of piss.
The difference between the wealthier parts of the city and the slums was staggering.
A drunk stumbled toward me, hands sweeping under my cloak in an attempt to find my purse. The feel of strange hands on me… Bile climbed up my throat. Elbowing the drunk in the face, I slid to the side and neatly tripped him. His face hit the wall, and he crumpled with a groan.
Guilt twisted my stomach. He was just a drunk. Not the hunter from the forest. Not the bearded giant from the inn. Just a harmless drunk.
Tibris stared at me. “I see you continued your lessons.”
“The mercenaries fight dirty.” I forced myself to keep walking. “They taught me a few things.”
He just nodded, his brow creasing. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
Surely it couldn’t get any worse. I waited, watching as Tibris stepped around a puddle, swallowed, took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders.
“The person who suggested Asinia be assessed…it was Frinik.”
I closed my eyes. When I thought of Frinik, I thought of sneaking into the forest, creeping out my window, whispers, hushed laughter, rough kisses. He was my first. We’d known even then that we weren’t forever, but for a few months, before his parents arranged his marriage to their friend’s daughter, we’d both had someone.
Now, if I ever saw him again, I would slit his throat. Oh, how I’d changed since the day I’d fled my village. “Pris?”
“I’m okay.” Neighbors turned on each other. It was how it worked. And the only reason there was no loyalty among us was because the king had stamped out that loyalty and replaced it with terror.
Tibris gave me a look that said he didn’t quite believe me, but he wasn’t going to press the subject. “We’re here.”
I examined the wooden door in front of us. Tibris reached out and knocked, and I sucked in a breath as we waited. Had the city changed Vicer? Was this a trap?
A woman answered the door. She wore an apron, her curly brown hair touched with gray. Deep frown lines had settled between her brows.
“Code,” she demanded.
Tibris rattled off a series of numbers.
Sweeping her gaze over both of us, the woman wordlessly stepped aside and allowed us in.
My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light. The air was warm, and the scent of cinnamon wound toward me.
“Tibris.” Vicer appeared out of the gloom. He’d let his dark hair grow, and it was in a low ponytail against his neck. He was wearing a clean gray overcoat that matched his eyes, and he was also clean-shaven—something I’d rarely seen from him before he left.
Tibris had gone still, but he relaxed when Vicer grinned and slapped him on the back. I pushed the hood of my cloak down, and Vicer’s grin fell as he pondered me. He flicked a glance at Tibris.
“You didn’t say you were bringing your sister.”
Tibris cleared his throat. “After Pris…after everything that happened, I was even more careful than usual with the notes I sent. I had enough contacts at my end to help me find her, but I knew we needed to come here.”
Vicer just nodded, some of the tightness leaving his expression. His eyes laughed at me. “You always did follow us around like a lost puppy.”
“This lost puppy is rabid,” I told him.
Tibris sighed. “She’s right about that. Can we sit somewhere and talk?”
The woman who’d answered the door had wandered away. But at our question, she poked her head around a door. “Come and eat,” she said.
I’d been far too nervous to break my fast this morning, and now my stomach grumbled at the thought of food. I felt…safe here. Well, as safe as we could be in the capital.
Vicer shook his head at her. “Always eavesdropping.” But it was clear from his fond expression that he didn’t blame her for it. “Margie here cooks the best chicken in the city.”
She waved that off, but her cheeks had flushed. “Wash your hands before you sit at my table,” she said. “All of you.”
The way she’d taken charge reminded me of my own mother. And of Asinia’s. My chest ached, but I followed Vicer as he led us into a small washroom.
“I didn’t think you’d have easy access to water,” Tibris said as I washed
up.
“We’re based in the slums for a reason. This was once an orphanage, and no one notices when people are coming and going at all hours of the day and night,” Vicer said. “But there are enough of us living here and contributing that we can enjoy some comforts.”
Tibris washed his hands, and Vicer led us into a large kitchen. Margie had already set three plates of chicken on the table, along with hunks of fresh bread.
“Thank you,” I told her. “You’re not hungry?”
She looked at me, and her expression softened slightly. “I’ve already eaten. And you’re welcome.”
“Sit with us, Margie,” Vicer said.
She brought over three cups of water, and Vicer took them from her. “You can speak freely in front of Margie,” he said softly.
I’d become more than a little suspicious and paranoid myself since leaving our village. But for some reason, Margie had immediately put me at ease. That was likely a good reason not to trust her.
“I lost my daughter to the king’s lies,” Margie said softly, interrupting my thoughts. “They tore her from my arms and took her to the castle. She was burned last year on Gods Day.”
Margie opened the top of her dress, revealing a gnarled scar that wound from one side of her throat down her chest. “Then they tried to kill me. But I survived.”
I stared at the scar. Was that how my mother had been killed? Tibris still refused to tell me, and I’d stopped asking.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
I’d heard what Margie hadn’t said. Everything she did was in her daughter’s name.
“I was told King Sabium has been lying all this time,” I said. “Our magic doesn’t go to the gods at all.”
Margie sighed. “No.”
“How has he gotten away with it? And his father? And his father before him?”
“I asked this question of a narminoi, soon after my daughter was taken from me. It took months for Vicer to locate her.” She slid Vicer a fond look. He picked up her hand and squeezed it.
Lorian had mentioned a narminoi. “Would it be possible for me to talk to her?”
Vicer shrugged. “If she’s feeling sane that day.”
It seemed as if narminoi succumbed to the same insanity seers eventually did.
Tibris frowned. I knew what he was thinking. Was that how people would have eventually spoken about Mama?
Vicer seemed to have realized what he’d said, because he gave us an apologetic look and gestured for Margie to speak.
She took a sip of water. “According to the narminoi, this all began when the gods were arguing among themselves. They were anticipating the time when alliances between the kingdoms would snap and they would turn on one another—as creatures with sentience eventually do. Each of the gods had a theory about which kingdom would survive such a war. The gods argued about this for centuries until, finally, they agreed to a test.”
Tibris grimaced at me, and I nodded back. What were we but entertainment for the gods?
Margie gave us a faint smile. “Faric, god of knowledge, gave an artifact to the humans. Tronin, god of strength, gave the fae three artifacts. And Bretis, god of protection, had become reluctantly intrigued by the hybrid kingdom to the west. The people who had somehow thrived—even after separating from the fae. Bretis donated something that held such power, Tronin and Faric immediately grew jealous.”
“What did the gods give each kingdom?” I asked.
“The narminoi couldn’t tell me.” She nodded at my plate. “Eat.”
I took a bite. Margie’s chicken was tender and flavorful. But I could barely taste it. “What happened next?”
“The humans used their power not to look into their own lands and determine the health and wellness of their subjects. No, they began to look to their neighbors. And they grew envious. Why had the fae been given so much more magic than the humans? Why were the hybrids more powerful and longer-lived? Eventually, the human king became obsessed with these questions. His name was Regner.
“King Regner ignored the faes’ weaknesses—such as their ancient grudges and low fertility—and focused only on their great power and long lives. The jealous king decided he would take what he hadn’t been given, ensuring that his kingdom prospered.”
Tibris made a small noise. Obviously, he’d never heard this story either.
Margie sighed, and she turned toward me.
“During this time, Regner’s son Crotopos died. Died from an injury that no healer in his kingdom could fix. Any fae visitors had already fled the human kingdom, their seers warning them of the king’s evil heart. The hybrids were already wary of both fae and humans—and had closed their borders decades before. And so, the prince died—while his wife was pregnant with their unborn child—and King Regner knew that if his son had been fae or hybrid, he would have lived.”
I couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Regner to watch his son die, knowing he could have been saved. Knowing the wound would have healed if he were anything but human.
It must have been torture.
“It was enough to drive the king to madness,” Margie said, nodding at whatever she saw on my face. “And yet Regner wasn’t mad when he ordered his people to invade the fae lands. He was sane when he ordered the slaughter of a peaceful group of fae nymphs in the forest close to his border. He was sane when he planned how he would make the fae king pay. And he was sane when he turned his attention to the hybrids, because they had something he wanted.”
No matter what had happened to his son, it didn’t excuse Regner from what he’d done to the hybrids. I wanted to weep for my people. To rage. I wanted vengeance.
Tibris reached out and peeled my hand off the side of the table. I’d been clenching it, white-knuckled, as Margie told her story. “What did the hybrids have that Regner wanted?”
She sighed. “The narminoi couldn’t tell me. It was only after several visits that I put this much together.”
“Why do people believe Sabium’s lies and those of his line? How have they gotten away with it for so long?”
Margie shrugged, but her expression was bleak. “How do you control a population? You keep the people poor and uneducated. Tell them the same lie for centuries, and tie that lie to religion. Those people will believe you even when the truth is dancing naked in front of them. Because to believe otherwise would mean their entire world has always been a lie. And that realization is too difficult for most people to take.”
I could understand that. Sometimes—even if only for a few seconds—I wished I could turn back time and never know just how Sabium deceived us.
Vicer had already finished his plate, and he leaned back in his seat.
“You’ve seen the people here,” he said. “Seen how much magic they have. Most villagers like us will never visit the city. They’ll live their whole lives firmly believing that the gods only gave them back a tiny sliver of magic. And those who do visit? They’re told the gods gave the city people back more magic for a reason. The people here are simply more worthy.”
If I’d thought I was bitter, it was nothing compared to Vicer’s acerbic tone. And I could understand why. I’d only been here for a few hours. What must it be like for people like Vicer? I didn’t know what kind of power he had, only that it was the kind considered useful. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of villagers had been brought here to be of use to the crown, and I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to continually see just how well people in the city lived. The wealth and power here would be inconceivable to those who had never left our village. If Vicer had tried to tell them about the horseless carriages, most would have laughed.
I took a deep breath. “If hybrids are so powerful, how does the king kill us so easily?”
Vicer leveled me with his hard stare. “It takes three things for magic to grow. Use, time, and training. Raw power is one thing, but hybrids must learn to wield that power.”
A dull fury made my hands shake. We never had a chance to grow our power because wielding it was a death sentence. The king’s great-great- grandfather had ravaged our kingdom. And now Sabium continued the slaughter to cover his crimes.
Vicer’s eyes met mine. “I know you still have your power.”
He hadn’t changed. He still enjoyed keeping people off-balance. I just nodded. “Tibris told me you knew.”
“And yet, even trusting us as he does, your brother refused to ever tell us what power you had. I must admit I’m curious.”
I forced a smile. “Maybe I’ll tell you. But…I need to know if you can help me.”
“You want to get on a ship.”
“No. Well, yes. But not yet. Asinia is a hybrid too. And she was taken.” Vicer’s expression turned mournful. And that was true grief in his eyes.
He’d known Asinia even longer than I had. “I’m sorry to hear that. If she’s been scooped up by the king’s guards, she’ll be in his dungeon.”
I forced my voice to stay steady, even as desperation clawed at me. “I’m getting her out.” And I was counting on Vicer and whatever connections he had to help make that happen.
“We’re getting her out,” my brother said mildly.
“And how do you think you’ll do that?” Vicer’s words dripped with sarcasm.
“My power allows me to stop time for a few moments.”
Margie dropped her cup, staring at me. Then she startled, seeming to come back to herself, and her face reddened. “I’m sorry.” She stepped away to find a cloth, and Vicer studied me.
“You can stop time?”
This was the moment when I had to pretend to be much, much more confident than I really was. Vicer wouldn’t involve himself in my plans if he thought my power was undeveloped. “You want a demonstration?”
His eyes lit up. “Of course.”
I reached for my power, and it jumped into my grasp. Time stopped, and I held it just long enough to get to my feet and take a few steps closer to Vicer.
I released the thread, and everyone else unfroze. Vicer shot to his feet, the blood draining from his face.
“You— I— We—”
Tibris grinned at me. “You’ve done the unthinkable. You’ve managed to make Vicer speechless.”
“Well,” Vicer said, and his entire body bristled with energy, color returning to his cheeks. “This changes some things. I have someone who can get you false work papers. We currently have two people in the castle. They’re attempting to update our intel, help us map the castle, and undermine the king when they can. But none of our people has ever been able to get into the dungeon. You would be the first.”
For the first time since I’d vowed to get Asinia out of the dungeon, hope fluttered its wings in my chest. My body felt oddly light.
“Just how big is this…rebellion?” I asked.
Vicer gave me a cool look. “If you’re serious about getting into the castle, you know I can’t tell you that.”
Because if we were captured, we would be tortured. The less we knew, the better.
“But what I can tell you is that all the rebellion members we had in the castle were caught up in a random sweep. The king has an assessor search his servants occasionally to ensure they’re not hybrids. The final two rebels I’ve sent in are volunteers and they refuse to be pulled out, but we won’t send anyone else in again. It’s too dangerous.”
My heartbeat quickened, but I nodded. I knew what we were risking.
The question was whether I could convince Tibris to stay behind.
One look at his stubborn expression and I knew the answer. He glowered at me, daring me to make the suggestion. I sighed. At least he wasn’t a hybrid.
Margie returned, her face still a little flushed as she avoided my eyes.
Was my power that horrifying?
I cut that thought off at the knees. My power was horrifying. And dangerous. And incredibly useful. My power was going to allow me to free Asinia. My power was going to help us escape.
“It’ll take a day or two for us to get you papers,” Vicer said. “There are a few other things you’ll need to do in the meantime, along with information you’ll need to memorize.”
I studied him. Vicer liked Asinia, but he certainly wasn’t doing this out of benevolence. “And what is it that you want in exchange?”
Vicer smiled. “We have someone in the dungeons too. You get him out when you get Asinia out, and we’ll help you with everything you need.”
“Why is this prisoner more valuable than the others?”
“Because he was the one who organized many of the rebels in this city. Who ensured the splinter groups began to work together. And who learned our enemies’ weaknesses. His mind is a wealth of knowledge. Knowledge we need.”
I studied Vicer’s face. The man I’d known had changed. He was sterner now. And when he laughed, he often cut his laughter off suddenly, as if he’d remembered he shouldn’t feel joy.
“Why are you doing this? You’re not one of the hybrids.” “We’ve all lost those we love to the king’s greed.”
Vicer’s expression had turned cold. Obviously, he wasn’t going to say anything more.
“There’s another problem,” I said. Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out the piece of parchment with my face sketched onto it.
Vicer studied the parchment. “Says here you have blond hair. We can fix that. I also know someone who can take care of those eyes,” he said. “Maids are invisible, and no one would expect a wanted criminal to be in the castle. Keep your head down, use that terrifying power of yours when you have to, and you’ll be fine.”
His confidence eased the worst of my own worries. It was easy to see just why Vicer had stepped into his role here.
Margie took our plates from us and walked away to wash them. Vicer got to his feet. “I’ll show you to your rooms.”
I nodded. I was more than ready for a moment alone.
We trailed after him, back into the gloomy entrance. Clearly, it was supposed to be gloomy—another way for it to blend in with the other homes in the slum. Vicer led us upstairs to a long hall. “All these rooms are being used,” he said, and one of the doors opened. A tall, thin man stepped out, nodding at us.
I tensed, still instinctively wary about being recognized. But neither Vicer nor Tibris seemed worried.
“This is Jeronth,” Vicer said. “Jeronth, this is Prisca and Tibris. They’ll be staying here for a few days.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said. His eyes met mine and darted away. But not before I caught the hopelessness in them.
Vicer glanced at me. “Most of the people here have experienced incredible loss. The kind of loss that breaks you. Working with the rebellion…it’s the only reason some of them have to keep breathing.”
I could understand that.
We climbed another set of stairs, which led to a large common room. A few people were reading, and a couple of women talked softly in one corner. But my gaze landed on the group of men eating a snack.
It felt like years ago that I’d eaten with Tibris and Mama in our home. For a moment, I wished with everything in me that I could go back to that time once more. That instead of trying everything I could to find a way to hide my power, I’d been appreciating my family and friends. That I’d looked for the signs that Asinia had power too. That I’d spent more time with Mama.
My regrets were piling so high, it felt as if they would bury me alive. “Prisca?”
“Hmm?”
“Through here.” Vicer nodded toward a slight, dark-haired girl with brilliant blue eyes. “This is Ameri. She’ll take you to the narminoi. She’ll charge you for it, though.”
Ameri nodded at me.
I still carried the hunter’s purse. I hadn’t even counted how many coins he had, but hopefully it would be enough.
I had much more to learn, and if my plan was going to have the best chance of success, I needed to know the truth. Not just a few tidbits. All of it.
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Dear L,
The man I have sent you is the best at what he does. Do try not to scream too loudly when the spell takes.
My sources tell me the woman you were traveling with stoked more passion than they’d seen /rom you /or years. I /ind mysel/ intrigued by the kind o/ woman who could distract you /rom your brooding.
Her power must be impressive /or you to
be able to get into the city. Describe that power
/or me, please.
Emara sends her regards. And also wishes to know about this woman you re/use to discuss.
In the meantime, try not to get killed. I’d hate to have to plan your /uneral when I’m already so busy.
/our older, wiser brother, C
“Lorian?”
I pulled my attention away from the letter and swept my gaze over the men standing in the cramped room. I knew who my brother’s sources were, and their expressions ranged from guilty—Marth, to belligerent—Rythos, to grave—Galon. Cavis was staring out the window.
It was no use telling them not to message my brother about Prisca. If I told them not to advise him about something we encountered on the road, or a plan I created without his approval, all of them would take that information to their graves. And yet, when it came to gossiping about women in my life…
I shook my head at them and scrawled my reply.
Dear C,
No, the girl did not stoke more passion in me than anything else has in years. But your interest is noted. Tell your wi/e I don’t need her meddling in my li/e. Although, the moment she’s ready to leave you /or me, I’ll be waiting.
Our mutual /riend has been spotted in Thobirea. I have various thoughts about the subject, but will wait /or yours.
/our younger, stronger, and in/initely better-looking brother,
L
Raucous laughter sounded from outside our door as a group of men walked past. The inn we were staying in was more comfortable than anything we’d used while traveling, but still noisy, and I missed the comforts of my room. Missed my own space.
The wildcat would say I missed having time to brood.
That kiss…her body had melted for me. There was something incredibly arousing about a woman who loathed and wanted me in equal measure. I couldn’t help but imagine what that passion would be like in bed.
“Lorian?” Rythos gave me a knowing look. I ignored it. “Has our contact arrived?”
“He’s downstairs. I have to ask… Are you sure this will work?”
“No,” I growled. “But I am sure that this is our only chance. Our families are relying on us to get into the castle. This is the closest we’ve been to such an opportunity in years.”
Rythos nodded, his gaze flicking to the vials we’d collected on our travels—from both the stone hags and the fae at the Gromalian border. The vials waited, ready to be used—the most valuable items any of us owned in this moment.
“Do you think Prisca is on a ship already?” Cavis asked. It was rare for him to care about anything other than his wife and baby, and I turned my head. He was staring down at the street below us, eyebrows lowered.
“Her brother would have insisted,” Rythos said.
I just shook my head. No one could drag that little wildcat on to a ship if she didn’t want to go. But if there was one thing she did have, it was a healthy sense of self-preservation. She wasn’t a fool, and she wanted to stay alive.
Even when she wasn’t here, she was distracting me.
Rolling to my feet, I glanced at Galon. He nodded, his own gaze thoughtful as he picked up the vial.
“Bring him up here,” I said, and Rythos strode out the door.
Soon, we’d be in the castle, ready to complete our task and finally return home.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and the fae pushed his heavy cloak off his head, revealing his pointed ears. It was dangerous for him to be here, so close to the city, but all of us were in agreement about this plan.
The fae bowed his head in greeting. “Are you sure about this?” “Yes.”
He didn’t bother asking me again, just held out his hand for the first vial. Galon handed it over, his gaze still on each precious drop.
“This will hurt,” the fae said. “I understand.”
“Sit on the bed, please.”
I gave him a look, and he just shrugged. “Your legs will fail you. I’ve seen it time and time again. Everyone downstairs will be alerted when you fall like a tree in the forest.”
I could imagine the way Prisca would laugh if she’d heard that.
And thinking about the little wildcat did nothing to improve my mood. I pushed her out of my head and nodded at the fae.
“Fine.”
I sat. He opened the vial and dipped his thumb into the crimson liquid.
He painted runes on my face, runes that burned.
Then he began to chant.
I threw back my head as agony erupted throughout my body. Magic ignited, and I bit my fist, smothering the urge to roar. It felt as if my body were being burned alive. If I didn’t know this fae, didn’t know just how closely our goals aligned, I would have slit his throat.
I almost laughed at the thought. My vision had darkened, and I was likely too weak to stand. I wouldn’t be slitting anyone’s throat.
The taste of copper filled my mouth. Galon began a steady stream of curses. I smiled despite the pain. It wasn’t often that he reacted to anything these days.
The fae reached for the second vial and chanted some more. If I’d been able to take a full breath, I likely would have screamed—a fact that darkened my mood even further.
Finally, it was done. And I was left as weak as a newborn. Galon leaned over me, brow creased.
“He should rest,” the fae said.
I managed to turn my head, finding the fae swaying on his feet.
“Get him a room,” I ordered. My voice was hoarse, weak. The sound of it annoyed me.
“Thank you, but I should go.” He bowed his head. “May the gods be with you during your task.”
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Tibris’s low laugh sounded, and I glanced up from where I’d been sitting in the corner while he talked with some of the other rebels. On my lap, a few pieces of parchment summed up my new life and background. Later today, Vicer would be testing both Tibris and me to ensure we could answer any question he threw at us without hesitation.
I didn’t have it in me to socialize right now. I was too busy staring into space, going over everything I’d learned during the past two days.
I missed the mercenaries. Which was ridiculous, because they’d probably already completed whatever nefarious task had brought them to the city, and now they’d be moving on to whatever came next for people with no allegiance to anything but coin.
That wasn’t fair. They had allegiance to one another too.
The truth was, I’d studied them enough that I was relatively sure they were planning something big. And there was none of the excitement or anticipation I would’ve expected if it was something that would make them wealthy beyond their wildest dreams. No, they’d mostly radiated a grim determination.
Vicer appeared, and the room went quiet. He just nodded his hello, strolling over to me and gesturing to Tibris.
“Come with me.”
He led us into an office off the common room and leaned against the large wooden desk.
“Your work papers are finished. A carriage will pick you up tomorrow afternoon,” Vicer said. “Pris, you’ll go by the name of Setella. It’s your job to map the castle as much as you can. I’ll help you with your plans, but I have to remind you again. We have never gotten anyone out.”
Tibris nodded grimly. “We know.”
I didn’t like the look Vicer gave my brother. As if he was already mourning his friend. I glowered at him, and he seemed to snap out of it, returning to business once more.
“Tibris, you’re going to be in the wine cellar. We had to work hard to ensure you’d be placed there, and it’s an excellent opportunity for us. We have an idea about where the entrance to the dungeon is, but you’ll need to confirm.”
I swallowed, my pulse tripping at the danger my brother would face. “And the guards?”
“The guards’ schedules haven’t changed at all over the last few years. We had one of our people befriend two of those guards last year before he had to flee to avoid a random check. According to him, the guards are rarely in the dungeon itself unless they’re feeding the prisoners or bringing in someone new. There are always two guards posted on the dungeon door, which, until now—” he smirked at me “—has been more than enough security. The posted guards always have an active combat power.”
I forced my voice to stay steady. “So we just have to find a way to get all the prisoners past those guards.”
Vicer’s gaze turned distant. “According to numerous sources, there’s a tunnel leading into the castle, and the entrance is somewhere in the dungeon. If we can find the entrance and the tunnel is still clear, we can use it.”
My mouth dropped open. “A tunnel? Why would Sabium leave such a vulnerability?”
“One of his ancestors built it a couple of centuries ago, and it hasn’t been used since. Sabium prefers to have his corrupt marched through the city on their way to their deaths. Likely the only reason the tunnel still
exists is because the king keeps his prisoners so weak and docile, even if there were a prison break, there’s no way they would be able to make it to the end of that tunnel before the guards caught them—not unless they were being carried.” Distaste flashed across Vicer’s face. “If you can get into the dungeon, your job will be to find the tunnel and figure out where it ends.”
The tiniest spark of hope ignited in my chest. We could do this.
“I don’t need to remind you to be careful with your words,” Vicer said. “We will.”
“All messages should be in code. And burned immediately. Make sure you’re not followed back here—”
“Vicer,” Tibris said. “We know. We’d never do anything to risk you or the others. You know that.”
Vicer looked back at him for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “Ameri is waiting to take you to the narminoi. Tomorrow, we’ll make
sure you’re disguised appropriately, check your papers, and you’ll be in.” I took a deep breath. “Thank you, Vicer.”
“Thank me when you get out of there. Alive.”
I nodded, walking out and giving Tibris a couple of minutes with his friend.
Ameri leaned against the wall. “I spoke to my contact. We need to go now.”
Tibris stepped through the door. Obviously, he hadn’t known what to say to Vicer. “I’m coming with you.”
We followed Ameri down the stairs. She was a quiet woman, and I’d only been with the rebels for an afternoon, but already I’d noticed her slipping in and out of rooms unnoticed. She just seemed to fade into the background.
“What magic do you have?” I asked when we opened the front door. She shot me a look. “Guess.”
“Something to do with the way you never seem to be where we’re expecting you to be?” Tibris asked dryly, and she smirked.
“Maybe. Our contact is a few streets over. But just so you know, narminoi have a tendency to stay in the past. They sometimes forget to live in the present. Even before the king ordered them to be wiped out, they wrestled with insanity. She may not be able to respond to your questions.”
“Margie warned me. She said she had to put things together after she’d talked to the narminoi multiple times.”
There was a high chance this visit would be a waste of time. Still…if I could get even one scrap of helpful information, it would be worth it.
By the time we’d traveled deeper into the slums, I was breathing through my mouth. Beggars huddled on every corner, although most of the people walking past them looked too poor to spare even a single copper themselves. Children ran barefoot on the cold ground, and each person we passed carried with them an air of hopelessness.
All the magic in this city, and yet the poorest citizens would likely have had better lives in the villages.
Ameri turned into a small potions shop. I glanced at the labels on some of the bottles, and my stomach roiled. Even the most powerful people in our villages could never hope to have enough magic left over to create potions. The merchants who came to our village brought with them brightly colored water and fake charms.
But here, the people had so much magic, they were selling potions to grow back thinning hair, to find a lost heirloom, to increase luck.
“Are these real?” I croaked.
“Of course they’re real,” a high-pitched voice said, and I turned to find a short woman with her hands on her hips. The blue mark on her temple would have made it clear she had her magic back, even if I hadn’t seen the lines next to her eyes.
“Ignore her,” Ameri told the woman, shooting me an exasperated look. “We’re here for Lanos.”
“Out the back.” The woman gave me another dark look before turning and stalking away.
Ameri led us to blue door, which opened into a room filled with wooden crates. A weathered man sat on one of those crates. He wore a filthy, ripped cloak and scuffed boots, and he launched to his feet when we walked in. I clamped my hand around the hilt of my knife, and he went still.
“I mean you no harm,” he said carefully. “I was expecting one person.” Ameri sighed. “This is Prisca and her brother Tibris.”
Lanos just nodded. Leaning down, he pushed a crate aside, revealing a hidden door in the floor. “We need to go through here,” he said. “You’ll have to crawl. It’s narrow.”
Just looking at the small space made my chest tight. Already, it felt as if the walls around me were closing in, ready to suffocate me.
“I’ll bring the narminoi back here,” Tibris murmured to me.
Ameri’s gaze hardened as she watched me, silently judging. “If you truly want to work in the castle, you better get used to this. Rebels are the rats creeping in tunnels beneath the city, in secret passages within the castle. If you’re going to stay alive, you’ll need to master that fear. Besides, you’ll need to use the tunnels tomorrow with Vicer.”
I swallowed, humiliation making my cheeks heat. “I can do it.” Tibris hesitated. Ignoring him, I stalked to the open door.
“Wait,” Tibris said. “He goes first.” He pointed at Lanos. “Then you.” He nodded at Ameri.
She just sent him a shrug and a placid smile. “Fine.”
Within a few moments, I was staring down at the ladder and beneath it to where Ameri’s feet had just slipped out of sight.
People were buried in graves this narrow.
Tibris had decided he’d follow me to “guard my back.” Part of me wondered if it was so he could soothe me if I lost my mind halfway.
Lorian’s voice played through my mind.
“Every time I think you’re about to stop being a scared little mouse and actually reveal the woman I believe you are, you prove me wrong. Well, sweetheart, we don’t have time for your insecurity or self-doubt.”
I loathed that I’d let the cold mercenary into my head. But he was right.
We didn’t have time for my insecurity. Or my self-doubt.
Sucking in a deep breath, I forced myself to think about anything except the tiny space below us.
Asinia. Think of Asinia.
That helped. If she could suffer in the king’s dungeon, I could do this.
I began counting off the seconds as I lowered myself down the ladder. Prickles of dread traveled from the back of my neck down my spine. My eyes met Tibris’s, and he gave me a reassuring smile.
Why couldn’t I have been afraid of anything except small spaces?
I made it to the bottom of the ladder, moving aside so Tibris could come down too. My heart tripped over its next beat until it was racing fast enough, it was as if I were sprinting, fleeing for my life.
Dropping to my knees, I peered into the tunnel. Ameri’s feet were barely visible in the gloom, but the fact that I could see them meant the tunnel couldn’t be as long as I’d imagined.
Tibris landed behind me. “We don’t have to do this.”
“Don’t coddle me.” If I was going to be the kind of person who could break Asinia out of the king’s dungeon, I could no longer afford weaknesses. I needed to conquer my fears. Needed to become hardened to such things.
Tibris turned silent.
I sighed. “I’ve…come to realize that in these kinds of situations, I respond better to impatience and the implication that I’m a coward than I do to soft words and encouragement.”
“Well, that’s not entirely healthy, but if it’s what you need…”
More silence. Tibris cleared his throat, obviously searching for an insult.
I hadn’t thought I’d have it in me to laugh at a time like this, but giggles burst from me. Even when asked to treat me with disdain, my brother couldn’t do it.
“We’re losing sight of them,” he said finally, and I huffed out another laugh. If that was all Tibris had, I’d take it.
The dirt floor was rough beneath my hands and knees. The walls around me were so close, my head brushed against them a few times. My pulse galloped. Exactly how long would it take to die down here if the exit was blocked?
“You’re doing great, Pris. Ah, I mean, move faster, you weakling.”
His voice had turned miserable by the last word, and I awkwardly reached behind me, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to be mean to me. It’s enough that you’re here.”
Besides, I was suspecting I only responded to taunts from a certain gruff, endlessly amused mercenary. And that was just depressing.
“I’ll always be with you,” Tibris said.
Because we were all each other had. Because of me. Sometimes, the grief and guilt expanded inside me until I could barely breathe.
“We’re here.” Ameri’s voice echoed down the tunnel.
Echoed because the tunnel was longer than I’d thought. I shuddered, and for an awful moment, bile burned up my throat.
No. I could do this. This was nothing compared to what Asinia was going through right now. I kept crawling, attempting to ignore the feel of dirt beneath my hands and knees.
Eventually, the tunnel opened into a small hollow carved out of the dirt. We were still underground, but we could stand if we bent almost in two. An
old woman sat on a rickety-looking crate against one wall. Several tunnels branched from the hollow, and in the corner, another ladder led back up to what was likely another store or someone’s house. That was our best escape route if the tunnel were to collapse.
Lanos leaned against one of those ladders and nodded at me. I turned and studied the old woman. She was blind, her lips were cracked and dry, and her clothes dirty and torn. Fury poured through me at her condition.
Ameri cleared her throat, and I glanced at her. She stiffened at whatever she saw on my face. “We’ve tried,” was all she said.
I crouched in front of the woman. “My name is Prisca,” I said softly. “Hello, Prisca.” The woman’s voice was soft, almost childlike. She
smiled, and despite her cracked teeth, it was a sweet smile. “My name is Ivene.”
“Hello, Ivene.”
“You’ve come to learn about the past.” “Yes. If you wouldn’t mind telling me.”
She reached her hands up, and I held myself still as she used them to trace my face. “You’re a beautiful woman.” She smiled, and it was sadder. “It won’t make your life any easier, you know.”
I smiled back, keeping my voice gentle. “I thought you saw the past, not the future.”
“You don’t have to be a seer to know life is kind to no woman, even those who are blessed with beauty.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Ameri said. My lips twitched. We shared a look, and for the first time, I felt her thaw a little toward me.
“Will you tell me of the king? And the hybrids?” I asked, but Ivene was already turning away, her head angled as if she was listening to someone.
“I told you not to talk to me while I am speaking to others.”
Ameri sighed but gestured for me to wait. Eventually, Ivene turned back toward me.
“The king. The king, the king, the king.” She cackled, and the sound seemed to rip through the air. “Siiiit. You should make yourselves comfortable.”
We sat at her feet, and she tipped her head back. When she spoke, her voice was different. No longer childlike, now it was deeper, as if someone else were speaking through her. I shivered.
“Get to the prince, your mother said. But you ignored her. When will you focus on your task, Prissss-caaaa?”
I opened my mouth, but she’d already turned away again, speaking gibberish. Her hands slammed to her ears. “Be quiet,” she roared.
I looked at my brother. He stared steadily back. Those who looked both forward and backward were destined to lose their minds to their gifts. Ivene was likely somewhere between ten and twenty winters older than Mama. Had she lived, this would have been her future.
Was Tibris right, and that was why she’d let herself die by that river?
Ivene was sitting back on her crate. She waited until we were all looking at her once more—I still couldn’t understand how she knew such a thing—and then she smiled that sweet smile once more. “Ask your questions.”
I had so many, I didn’t know where to start. But I focused on Asinia. “What do you know of the castle? The royal family? What’s the best way for us to get someone out of the dungeon?”
“Shhhh.” Ivene hushed whatever voice she could hear. “This is important.” She faced me again. “In order to understand the elite, you must become like them. The queen has long been lonely, afraid, weak.”
I folded my legs under me. “What do you mean?”
“Shhhh,” she said again. But whatever she could hear obviously refused to quiet, because she turned and screamed, high and long. Her face flushed red, and Tibris gave me an unhappy look.
I couldn’t just give up. If she could see the past, maybe she could see what decisions the royals had made. The security the king had in place. And potential weaknesses in that security.
“When we leave the castle, which route will give us the highest chance of survival? Where can we go?”
Ivene sighed, obviously weary. But her mouth curled into a gentle smile. “I can’t see the future.”
“I know. But…given what you can see…is there anything you can tell us?”
“The gods are very interested in what you do next.”
Fuck the gods. I took a deep breath. “Thank you for your time.”
“Wait,” Tibris said. “I just have a couple of questions. If it’s okay.”
Ivene turned, shushing whomever she could hear once more. But this time, she laughed playfully, waving her hand at the empty air. When her
attention returned to us, Tibris cleared his throat. “The people who raised us…was I taken by them too?”
Something that might have been sympathy creased Ivene’s brows. “No, child. You were born of the people you called Mama and Papa.”
Tibris kept his expression neutral. All those games of King’s Web had paid off. I couldn’t tell how he felt about that.
“And Prisca? Why did my mother take her from her birth parents?”
She gave him a sweet smile, as if he’d finally asked the right question.
And then she turned to me.
“There are some things I can’t tell you yet. Things you must learn when the time is right. But I can tell you this… You were just three winters old. If you had been in your bed that night, you would have died. The man you called your papa did everything he could to take those memories from you, but eventually, you will begin to remember.”
A dull betrayal slipped beneath my skin. My papa—who I’d thought could do no wrong—had been using his power on me for my entire life.
“Where are my birth parents now?”
“I can’t see that. I can only see what has been.” Ivene held out her hand to me. I took it. Her skin felt as fragile as paper in mine. “But occasionally, the gods whisper warnings in my ear.” She laughed at me. “And I know just what you think of those gods.”
I opened my mouth, but she just shook her head.
“One day soon, you will have to make a choice. Be a torch for just one soul in the dark…or burn like the sun for all of them.”
