“We’re going to hope they don’t have those ready to go.” Aren raised an eyebrow. “Having regrets about this yet?”
“Not yet, but there’s still time.” He looked back at the horses. “It’s going to take us a long time to get to the capital on foot.”
“The warriors have horses at every post,” Aren said. “They’re going to use them to chase after us. We’ll grab them after I get rid of the warriors.”
“That easy, huh?” Galo asked.
“If the warriors stay on those horses we’re dead, so yeah, I’m hoping it’s that easy.” Aren peered through the trees at the posts. They were still far enough away not to be spotted, but just barely. The element of surprise was the best thing they had going for them.
“What do you want me to do?” Galo asked. “Hold your hand?”
“Yes, actually. Not right away, but as soon as I start using my Ruined magic. Just grab on to me.”
“Got it.”
“And tell me if you see anyone coming. I want to try to keep them all at a distance. If anyone recognizes me they’ll know I’m coming for Iria.”
Galo nodded.
Aren stepped forward, Galo close behind him. They kept low to the ground in the darkness.
“Did Olivia get in unnoticed?” Galo asked quietly.
“No. The warriors saw them coming and sent a whole mess of people to greet them, from what I’ve heard.”
“And Olivia killed them all.”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t do us any favors there,” Galo grumbled.
Aren straightened as they walked out of the trees. They were in sight now, if the warriors in the tower were paying attention and could see in the dark.
“Now?” Galo asked.
“Now.” Aren broke into a run. Galo’s shoes pounded the dirt beside him.
They ran in silence for at least a full minute, and Aren wondered if perhaps they’d gotten lucky. Maybe the warriors couldn’t see them. The moon was only a sliver tonight.
An arrow whizzed through the air and sailed past his ear. Horse hooves pounded the ground.
“Behind you to your left!” Galo shouted. “And your right! And directly behind us!”
Aren skidded to a halt and grabbed Galo’s arm. He stumbled as Aren pulled him to a stop.
Through the dark, he could see two horses to his left, one to his right, and three straight ahead.
He focused on the warriors to his right first. Galo’s frantic energy pounded through his body, and he easily lifted the men from the horses and tossed them backward.
Arrows whizzed past his face, and Galo suddenly let out a gasp. Blood trickled down his arm from where an arrow had scraped him.
“Can you do this any faster?” Galo asked. The three warriors in front of them all had arrows pointed in their direction.
Aren took them all out at once, throwing them a little farther than the other warriors. Their landing wouldn’t be soft. They wouldn’t be able to grab their bows and run after them again.
Aren threw the last warrior off his horse and let go of Galo’s arm. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“It’s just a scratch.”
Aren whirled around and found three of the horses stopped not far away, the other three still galloping even though their riders were gone.
“Get that horse,” Aren said, running toward them. He mounted the warrior’s horse quickly and urged him forward. “Do you see the tracks?” he yelled to Galo as they rode.
“There!” Galo pointed to the right, where the silver tracks glinted in the moonlight.
Aren glanced behind him. Nothing. The warriors hadn’t known they were coming, and it was unlikely they counted on a Ruined being one of the intruders. It would take them a while to ride to the other posts, spread the word, and assemble more warriors to chase them down.
“Let’s stick to the tracks as long as we can!” Aren yelled to Galo. Em had told him that the tracks led straight to the capital.
They rode until the sun came up. They abandoned their horses and went on foot since they would draw attention on the warriors’ horses, and at the moment, they were trying to blend in.
Aren could tell they were nearing the capital—he could hear the sound of voices on a nearby road, and he could sense the presence of a large number of humans nearby. A carriage passed them, and the coachman cast a curious glance over his shoulder.
Galo stopped, touching Aren’s arm. “Do you have something to cover your neck?”
Aren’s fingers flew to the Ruined marks there. He’d been stupid to forget about them. He’d gotten used to his scars covering them, but there were plenty that were visible these days. He dropped his bag on the ground and dug through it.
“I don’t think I have anything. I could rip up the blanket to make a scarf, I guess. Might look weird, though.”
“Here,” Galo said, gesturing for him to get up. He adjusted the collar of Aren’s coat so it was standing up, covering his neck. “Keep it like that and no one can see. You’ll just have to keep the coat on, even if you get hot.”
“Thanks,” Aren said. Despite the clear skies and sun, it was much cooler in Olso than in the Lera jungle. He stuck his hands in his pockets. He needed to keep those out of sight too.
They walked until the city came into view. The castle was to the east, its peaks rising high into the sky, visible even from a distance. The city stretched out below it, with buildings bigger than those in Lera, the sidewalks more cramped with people. The streets were dirtier than in Lera, but there were several men dressed in gray jumpsuits scooping up the trash and putting it in bags. One frowned at Aren as he tried to get to an apple core by his foot.
Aren stepped aside, touching his collar. There were more people than he’d expected.
“So what’s the plan?” Galo asked. “Are we just strolling into the prison? Do we even know which prison she’s in?”
“No. I need to find out which prison she’s in, and what it’s like. Most likely, it’s heavily guarded, and it will be tough for me to take on that many guards by myself. If they manage to corner me and get me in a cell it’s all over.”
“So we need someone to tell us which prison she’s in, and maybe the basic layout.”
“Right.”
Galo scrunched up his face as he surveyed the crowds around them. “Got anyone in mind?”
Aren released a breath. “Yeah.”
“Who?”
“Iria’s parents.”
TWENTY-FOUR
EM WOKE TO the sun in her eyes. She blinked, the room around her slowly taking shape. The Lera castle. Cas’s bedroom. He hadn’t closed a window last night, and the breeze rustled the curtains, letting in streaks of sunlight.
She turned. Cas was dressed but barefoot, standing at the half-open door and speaking softly to someone she couldn’t see. He closed the door and turned, his eyes lighting up when they met hers.
“I’m sorry. I was trying to let you sleep.”
“What’s wrong?” She propped herself up on her elbows.
He crossed the room and climbed onto the bed. “Nothing’s wrong. That was just Franco. I asked him to push our morning meeting to later.”
She lay back down with a sigh and rubbed her forehead. The sun peeking through the windows was bright. She’d slept late.
Probably because she’d barely slept at all since leaving Olivia. She’d been so foggy-headed yesterday that she barely remembered how she got to Cas’s room.
The Ruined were mad at her. And scared. Ivanna was dead, and Em had underestimated what a good job she was doing keeping the Ruined calm. Gisela might have taken Em’s head off yesterday, if Em were human.
“I need to go check on the Ruined. Did they eat? We need to find them some clothes, too. And I should probably scout the area around Royal City with a few Ruined tonight, to see if we spot Olivia. Maybe some guards should come with us? Do you think—” She stopped talking suddenly as Cas stretched out beside her and pulled her int
o his arms. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest, losing her train of thought. He smelled like the Cas she’d known when she was here as Mary. The air of the castle clung to him, with scents of fresh flowers and pastries and the ocean.
“A maid brought you some clothes, they’re in the wardrobe,” he said, his lips brushing the top of her head. “So feel free to dress and see the Ruined whenever you like. I’ll see what we can do about getting the Ruined clothes and other essentials. And you can go out looking for Olivia if you want, but I like you better right here.”
A smile crossed her lips. She didn’t think she’d smiled in days, but the smile came easier than she would have thought. His words last night—We’re together now. Everything will be fine—had seemed so naive at the time, but now, as she wrapped an arm around his waist and held him tight, they didn’t seem so far-fetched.
Guilt crept into her chest. She couldn’t stop thinking about Olivia’s words—You’re choosing that boy over me, over your people. She knew her sister was just trying to get under her skin, but the words still stung.
Because she had chosen Cas over her sister. And she would do it again. Like Ivanna said, it was bigger than that, bigger than just the two of them, but Em couldn’t deny that she was happy to see him again. She could push thoughts of her sister away when she was in his arms. She didn’t know what kind of person that made her.
She slowly untangled herself from him. “Can you give me a few minutes?”
“Of course.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then climbed out of bed.
He left her to get dressed, and Em found the clothes—her Princess Mary clothes—in the wardrobe. She pulled on pants and a soft blue tunic and tied her hair into a braid.
She found Cas waiting for her in his library, perched on the edge of a chair. They had so much to talk about that she didn’t know where to begin—the Ruined downstairs, Olivia, their marriage, stripping the monarchy of power. But she didn’t want to talk about any of it. So she kissed him instead.
He took in a sharp breath and stood, his fingers finding their way into her hair. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and kissed him like she might not get another chance. Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe Olivia would burst through the doors in a minute and kill every last one of them. It happened to Em before. She’d hugged her mother good night and the Lera king broke down the door to the castle not two hours later.
She even considered pushing him back into the bedroom and taking off the clothes they’d just put on. They could lock the door and ignore all the responsibilities waiting on the other side of it for a day.
She pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before stepping away from him. She wouldn’t do that to the Ruined. And she wasn’t even sure she wanted to have sex with Cas for the first time now, with this heaviness pressing down on her chest. She suspected she’d just be doing it to feel something besides sadness, and they both deserved better.
“I’m going downstairs to check on the Ruined,” she said. “Am I allowed to wander the castle freely? Are the Ruined?”
“You can go wherever you like. We have Weakling stored in the shed by the stables, so you’ll probably want to tell them to steer clear of that.”
“How much did they find?”
“You’re welcome to go look. The shed is stuffed full of boxes. Floor to ceiling.”
She raised her eyebrows, impressed. “I’ll let them know. We’ll need to get started lining shields and armor with it right away. The other Ruined can’t do it, obviously. I’d like a few soldiers and guards to help me, since they’ll be the ones using it. Can you spare people?”
“Sure. I’ll talk to Jorge and see who’s free.”
“Do you have guards stationed at the shed now?”
“Yes. Two.”
“We may want to take over guarding it.”
He studied her for a moment. “We’ve weeded out everyone who was loyal to Jovita. You can trust my guards.”
She almost laughed. Trust his guards. How ludicrous. “I’m sorry, Cas, but no. I trust you. I trust several of your advisers, in a way. But I don’t trust a large group of humans I don’t know.”
“They’ve sworn to protect me, and I made sure they know that means they protect you, too.”
“It is way too early to expect that sort of loyalty from them,” she said, exasperated. She liked Cas’s optimism most of the time, but he couldn’t expect blind trust from her, and especially not from the other Ruined. “I’m not saying I think they’re going to attack us. But you can’t be sure they’re all completely on your side. You could very well have a spy from Jovita on your guard right now.”
He cracked a knuckle. “I don’t care if the Ruined want to guard it. I would think you’d all want to rest for a while, not spend your time standing in front of a shed, but if that makes you happy, be my guest.”
Annoyance surged in her chest at his sarcastic tone. “Everything isn’t fine now, Cas, and we can’t pretend it is.”
“I know. I really do. But how do you expect the Ruined to trust us if their queen doesn’t?”
“They won’t automatically trust you just because I do. I don’t hold that kind of sway with them.”
“Really?” He lifted his eyebrows in an almost amused way. “Because you got all of them to betray one of the most powerful Ruined ever and sleep in the castle of their former enemy. I think your opinion means everything to them.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t wrong. The Ruined had followed her here even though her plan to stop Olivia had failed. They’d been angry last night, but they were still here. There were no reports of them all fleeing the castle last night.
“You know it’s not in my nature to trust people. I have no reason to,” she said quietly.
He stepped forward, cupping her face in his hands. “Em. Of course you have a reason to.”
TWENTY-FIVE
THE UBINOS’ HOUSE was listed in the town registry, which Galo found while Aren waited outside City Hall. They walked east, to a neighborhood full of giant houses.
They stopped in front of number twenty-two, an impressive two-story home with a sweeping balcony upstairs.
“Let’s pretend I’m from Lera as well,” Aren said.
“You don’t think they’ll be accepting of a Ruined?” Galo asked.
“They’re important people in Olso. Their first priority will be protecting Olso. We just attacked them. You, they owe.”
“How do you figure?”
“I don’t know. They attacked Lera. At the very least, they can feel smug.”
“Got it.”
Aren walked up the gravel path that led to the large wooden and stained-glass front doors. He tapped the knocker against the door twice.
A young woman in a gray-and-red uniform answered. “May I help you?”
“We’re looking for Claude and Veronica Ubino,” Aren said. “We’re friends of Iria’s.”
The woman’s face fell. “One moment.” She closed the door.
It didn’t open again for at least a full minute. When it did, a tall, dark-haired woman who looked very much like an older version of Iria stood in front of them.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“I’m Aren, and this is Galo, and we’re friends of Iria’s. We were hoping to speak with you.”
A man appeared behind the woman, his eyes wide.
Iria’s mother took a step closer to them. “You shouldn’t go around claiming to be friends of Iria’s. She’s a traitor.”
Aren’s heart dropped and he slid his hands farther into his pockets, hiding his Ruined marks. He realized suddenly that he’d had high expectations for Iria’s parents. He thought they’d start crying and invite him and Galo inside. He thought they’d be relieved to hear Aren’s side of the story—that Iria had saved his life when the warriors had betrayed the Ruined.
He’d imagined his own parents. They would have stood by Aren no matter what, and he’d wan
ted that for Iria.
He had to swallow down the lump in his throat before he was able to talk. “We were wondering if perhaps her sentence was too harsh,” he said carefully. “Maybe—”
“Her sentence fit her crime,” Iria’s mother spat. “Don’t come back here. We have nothing to do with that girl anymore.” She slammed the door shut.
Aren and Galo shared a pained look as they turned away from the house. Aren hoped Iria didn’t know how her parents felt.
He heard the door open again and he quickly turned back. Iria’s father stepped outside and jogged to them.
“The appeals won’t work,” he said in a hushed tone, his voice cracking just slightly. “But Bethania Artizo is working on one, if you’d like to talk to her.”
“Who is that?” Aren asked.
“A friend of Iria’s. She’s at Fifteen Grundle Place. Don’t come back here.” He started to turn away.
“Thank you,” Aren said quickly. “She did the right thing, you know.”
Iria’s father took in a shaky breath, nodded once, and strode back toward the house.
Aren watched him go. Maybe Iria’s parents would be secretly relieved when he busted her out of prison. They would never see her again, but at least they would know she wasn’t rotting away in a cell for the rest of her life.
They walked out of the neighborhood and back to the center of town. Galo asked an old man for directions, and he pointed them to a line of small identical homes at the edge of town. There were rows of them, perhaps housing for warriors or other city workers.
They found number fifteen and Aren knocked. A young woman with wild dark curls and a round, cute face answered the door.
“Bethania?” he asked.
She looked him up and down. “Yes?” she said hesitantly.
“We’re friends of Iria’s. We—”
Bethania leaped forward, grabbed Aren’s hand, and yanked it out of his pocket. Her eyes widened as she stared at his Ruined marks.
“Aren?”
He nodded, swallowing down a sudden wave of emotion. Iria had told her about him.
She nodded at Galo, still holding Aren’s hand. “Who is this?”