We’ve retreated back to stand among the army. e rebels haven’t killed any more consuls, but they seem to have an endless collection of their glass explosives, because they toss them at anyone who rides close. ey’ve built their res ever higher, and their chants vary between kill the king and we want medicine.
I’m on the fringes, but the king is surrounded by advisers. “e long bowmen can take out some of them,” an army captain is saying to him, “but they’d be able to kill the consuls before we could save them all.”
Harristan runs a hand along his jaw. His eyes are hard and tired.
He doesn’t have to say it, but I know the truth anyway. If they storm this dais, they’ll kill everyone.
I look back at the Circle. I can see the shadows of people moving around.
ey must be equally tired—and frightened.
I wonder if Karri is a part of it.
I step away from the army, and no one stops me. I ease silently over the cobblestones to stop in front of the ames where I know Lochlan waits.
A glass bomb comes ying out of the smoke, and I jump out of the way.
Flaming bits strike my skirts anyway.
“Hey!” yells a soldier, but I put my hands up and face the ames. “Lochlan!” I shout. “Lochlan, please. Please talk to me.”
e shadows move and shi, and then he’s visible, but barely. “I have nothing to offer you,” he calls.
“e king wants to nd a solution,” I say desperately. “Please. He doesn’t want a war. He wants to help.”
“He had time to help.”
“He’s going to kill you,” I cry. “Do you understand? He’s offered everything he can.”
“He’s already killing us,” Lochlan says, and I can hear the matching emotion under his words. “You know that, Tessa.”
“I know. I know.” And I do know. at’s always been the problem. ere’s never enough medicine to go around. “But . . . maybe . . .”
“Maybe what?” Lochlan calls. “Maybe the rich people will have their way and we’ll go back to the way it was? No, Tessa. No.”
“No,” calls a man’s voice from behind me, and I have to do a double-take when I see that it’s Corrick. He’s on horseback, leading a man through the haze by a rope.
en I have to do a triple-take, because that man is Consul Sallister. “You’ll have medicine,” says Corrick. “Eight weeks. From Allisander
Sallister himself. He’s pledged his assistance in nding a way to make Moon ower petals available to all.”
“I said six,” Allisander hisses, and Corrick kicks him in the shoulder.
“Tell them,” Corrick says. “Tell them you will grant eight weeks of medicine to all citizens if they will stand down.”
“Yes,” Allisander calls. “I will grant eight weeks of medicine to all citizens.” A few people have moved forward to join Lochlan at the edge of the dais.
One of them looks like Karri, and she’s moved close. I watch as she intertwines her ngers with his.
Oh. I somehow missed that.
“We’re already receiving medicine,” calls Lochlan. “From the Benefactors.” “It’s tainted!” I call back. “It’s laced with something else. You’ve been
tricked.”
A murmur goes through the crowd, both the army at my back and among the people on the dais.
“Lies,” says Lochlan, but for the rst time, his voice falters.
“You have to have noticed,” I say. “Tris said it herself, that the people have grown more desperate.” My voice breaks. “ere are more fevers, aren’t there?” I say to him. “Aren’t there?”
Another murmur goes through the crowd.
A boot scrapes against the cobblestones, and the king himself appears beside me. “Eight weeks of medicine. Real medicine. Enough time to form a new plan. A better plan.” He pauses. “And I will not just meet with my consuls. You are not the only ones who have been tricked. I will meet with you as well. A council of the people.”
Lochlan hasn’t moved. He’s not staring at the king. He’s staring at me. I glance at Harristan. “Amnesty,” I whisper.
He takes a heavy breath. “If you release your remaining hostages and agree to leave the sector peacefully, I will have my army stand down. I will grant amnesty up till this very moment, but not one second longer.”
Lochlan glances at Karri, then back at me. But still he doesn’t concede.
Shadows on the dais shi and move beyond the re. Someone has approached Lochlan. Aer a moment, I realize it’s Earle, with little Forrest beside him. My heart kicks. ere’s so much violence here, so much danger.
But then Earle says, “Tessa.” His voice booms over the crowd. “When you spoke for Wes—for Prince Corrick—you spoke of all the things he did for us.”
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, he did it for you.”
“Even while he did all of that, he was still the King’s Justice.”
I have to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Yes.” My voice breaks. I can feel the sudden tension in the army behind me. is is all going to unravel again. ey have no reason to trust King Harristan or Prince Corrick. “Yes. I know.”
“But you weren’t,” Earle says. I hold my breath. “What?” “You were . . . just Tessa.”
A woman approaches them, and I almost don’t recognize her through the soot on her sweaty cheeks. Bree, the young widow. “Tessa.” Her voice isn’t as loud as Earle’s, and I lean in to hear her. “You spoke of all the things Wes did. But . . . but you never talked about the things you did.” Her voice breaks. “You set my boy’s arm when he broke it falling from the tree. You showed me how to make a poultice.”
“You saved Forrest,” says Earle. “From the night patrol.”
Another man steps forward. “You stitched up my hand when I sliced it on the ax.”
An older woman. “You brought me blankets when the mice chewed through mine.”
One by one, more rebels approach the edge of the dais, each one announcing something I’ve done to help them.
“You brought us medicine.”
“You helped me birth that calf. I thought I was going to lose the cow.” “You taught me how to salve a burn.”
My throat is tight, and a tear streaks down my face, but they keep going. “You showed us how to make the medicine last.”
“You helped us save ourselves.”
“ere are so many of us here. Because of you.”
A boot scrapes on the cobblestones beside me, and I look over to nd Corrick at my side. His rough ngers lace through mine. “You don’t trust me,” he calls to the rebels. “I don’t expect you to trust me.” He glances at me, and his blue eyes are full of emotion. “But you trust Tessa.”
“I trust Tessa,” says Earle. “I trust Tessa,” says Bree.
Slowly, it turns into a chant that tightens my chest and makes it hard to breathe. ey have so much faith in me—and they’re all a heartbeat away from being slaughtered by this army if they don’t lay down their weapons.
Lochlan is still staring at me. “You trust the king,” he calls to me.
“I didn’t before.” I pause. “But I do now.” I swallow. “Lochlan. Please.
ere are so many people here. Please don’t risk them all.”
Lochlan looks at Harristan. “Amnesty?” he says. “And eight weeks of medicine?”
King Harristan nods. “You have my word. It has been witnessed by the consuls.”
He sighs. “Fine. Let’s hope we’re not both fools.” He sets down his crossbow. e other rebels do the same.
For a breathless moment, Harristan says nothing, and I wonder if this was all a trick, if the army is going to start picking off the rebels one by one.
But then the king turns to face his army. “Stand down. Allow them to leave.”
I’m suddenly giddy with relief. I turn to look up at Corrick. His eyes are full of pain, and I realize he’s bearing no weight on his injured leg, and the cut over his eye is bleeding.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I say. “You’re injured.”
His hands close on my waist, and they’re trembling a bit, belying his con dence. “Someone once told me that we should be riding at the front, not hiding in the shadows. I couldn’t let you and Harristan have all the fun.”
He leans down to press his mouth to mine, but just for a eeting moment before he pulls me against him. His arms are warm and sure against my back, but he’s heavy with exhaustion. Behind us both, the army retreats as the ames die and the rebels allow their hostages their freedom.
Tension lls the air around us, but for the rst time, it’s undercut by a tentative hope.
