“I don’t mind, I just know you’d prefer to keep practicing. Can’t practice if you drive him insane.”
Ester smiled, briefly touching Olivia’s arm as she walked past her. She didn’t display the same devotion as Jacobo, but Olivia appreciated her disdain for humans.
Ester disappeared through the door, and Olivia sat down in front of the middle cell. A woman was curled up on the ground, staring at Olivia, but she didn’t move.
“Come here,” Olivia said.
The woman hesitated, but only for a moment. She sat up and trudged to the cell door, plopping down on the ground. Dark circles marred the skin beneath her eyes.
“Arm,” Olivia ordered.
The woman stuck it through the bars. Olivia grabbed it and jerked it closer to her. The woman yelped.
Olivia put both her hands on the woman’s arm and held tightly. Nothing. She squeezed a little tighter. Nothing. She could feel the woman’s heart beating, could pinpoint every bone in her body, could feel the blood coursing through her veins. She could kill her with a quick look. But she couldn’t figure out how to use the humans to fuel her own power.
She dropped the arm. “Are you all broken? What is wrong with you?”
There was certainly nothing wrong with her. If Aren could do it, she could do it. And she had to be able to do it.
She would never admit it to Em, but her sister was right when she’d called Olivia’s plan risky. That was a kind way to put it, actually. Insane might have been more appropriate. It was nearly impossible to conquer ten Lera cities with only a handful of Ruined.
But not completely impossible. Not if she could learn to draw strength from humans, the way Aren did. Then she’d be unstoppable.
She jumped to her feet and stomped out of the room and down the hallway. There was a trick to it. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t even speak to Aren, much less ask for his help, but she had to know how he did it.
She strode down Market Street, where some of the Ruined were gathered at the tables in front of the bakery. Jacobo sat with Carmen, and they stopped talking when she approached.
“Have you seen Aren?” she asked.
Carmen wrinkled her nose. She, like Aren, ruined the body, and she’d made her disdain for Aren well known the past week. Olivia was not impressed with Carmen’s powers, but she did appreciate her attitude.
“I think he’s in the gardens,” Carmen said.
Olivia whirled around and walked down the block, to the small plot of land near the park. She spotted Aren as she approached the gate, on his knees, pulling weeds from in between the vegetables.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He sat back on his heels, wiping his forehead with his arm as he turned to her. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Why are you weeding the humans’ garden?”
“It helps to keep me from ripping your head off instead.” He leveled his gaze with hers, as if daring her to try him.
Rage swelled in her chest. She was supposed to be a hero to the Ruined, and Aren dared to make her feel like she was doing something wrong. Like she was the bad one, just because she didn’t like people who had murdered and exiled her people.
“Tell me how you do it,” she demanded.
“What?”
“The humans. How do you pull energy from them?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just happened one day with Iria.”
“Was she the only one? Did you try it on anyone else?”
He turned back to the weeds and yanked another one out of the ground. “She’s not the only one. It worked with others.”
Olivia angrily kicked a rock. Part of her had been hoping it was Iria who was special, not Aren.
“Tell me how you do it.”
“I told you I don’t know.” He sat back on his heels and met her gaze. “But even if I did, I’d never tell you.”
She curled her fingers into fists. Her Ruined magic burned in her veins, and she let it loose. Aren’s hand flew off the weed and straight backward, knocking him right in the face.
He shot her a venomous look. She smiled smugly and turned on her heel.
Her entire body froze. Every bone and muscle was no longer in her control.
“Careful, Olivia,” Aren said.
A chill ran through her body as he released her. She wanted to turn and glare at him, maybe break his nose this time, but she was worried that shock was plastered across her features. She couldn’t have controlled Aren’s entire body. Just taking hold of his hand required intense effort.
But he’d done it like it was nothing.
Aren watched as Olivia stomped away from the gardens. He waited until she was out of sight, and then stood, grabbing his bag of weeds and tossing it in the pile with the others.
He started down the road. His house was to the west, which wasn’t a coincidence. West was Olso. West was Iria.
He couldn’t see Olso, of course. It would take days to cross the jungle by horse, and then he’d be faced with a heavily guarded border.
But still, Iria was west, and the first day they arrived, he’d headed west and almost just kept going. It had taken all of his willpower to stop himself from grabbing a horse and riding there. She was certainly in prison by now, and he’d promised to save her. He would save her.
But he couldn’t ask Em to let him leave Lera right now. She needed him if she was going to stop Olivia from killing everyone. Olivia’s priority was to take over Lera; Em’s priority was to stop her. He knew Em wanted him to save Iria, but they both knew he had time. Olso didn’t execute people.
Aren kicked a rock, wishing he’d protected Iria when he had the chance. If Olivia hadn’t attacked him and Iria, he would have had the strength to stop the warriors.
If he hadn’t been so stupid and left her, maybe she wouldn’t have been taken at all. Iria was mad at him for trying to leave her in Lera, and he couldn’t blame her. Maybe if he’d stayed with her, she would have been by his side the whole time.
Laughter drifted over from the bakery, and he glanced up. Olivia and Jacobo sat at the tables with Ester, Priscila, and a few other Ruined, which meant the humans in the courthouse were unattended.
He took a quick turn, looping around and taking the long way to the courthouse. He grabbed four apples from the produce stand, which he’d replenished himself that morning.
Oak Street was deserted, and he jogged up the steps and walked into the building. It was empty, the desk in the middle of the room bare, and the door to the left slightly ajar. He stepped forward and slowly pushed the door open.
Six cells stretched out in front of him, four of them occupied. A woman to the left, and a man to the right. He stepped forward. Another woman, another man.
He didn’t know what exactly he’d planned to say to them, so he just slipped an apple through the bars into each cell. The woman in the rear cell didn’t roll over in bed. The other three humans stared, their faces full of venom. An apple didn’t mean much when they were imprisoned and had their lives threatened daily by Olivia.
His legs felt shaky suddenly. He sank to the ground, his back to the wall in between the two women’s cells. He drew his knees to his chest and rested his forehead on them.
Tears spilled down his cheeks. He couldn’t rescue anyone. Not Iria, not the people in these cells, not the Ruined who were terrified of Olivia.
It had been easier when he hated everyone. Back when they’d first rescued Olivia, walking to the Ruina border with her and Em, discussing plans for the Ruined. Aren had thought they’d never see Cas or Iria or any of them ever again. Now he wasn’t sure how he’d ever stirred up that much hate.
He tried to think of what his mother would say in this situation. Maybe: Your gifts only take you so far. Use your head. Or: You can’t control the actions of everyone around you, but you can control how you respond. Or even: Have faith, Aren. Do your best and everything will work out in the end. None of it seemed right. Even his talkative, lecture
-prone mother might have been speechless in this situation.
“Are you Aren?” a female voice asked.
He wiped a hand across his eyes as he peered over his shoulder at the woman in the first cell. She’d moved to the far left side, probably so she could see him. She sat cross-legged on the ground, the anger he’d seen on her face a moment ago gone.
“Yes,” he said. He turned so he was facing her. “Have we met?”
She shook her head. “I heard her mention you to Jacobo. She said, ‘Watch out for Aren. He may try to free them.’”
He scrubbed his hands down his face. “I can’t free you. They have the only keys. I’m sorry.”
“You’re Ruined.” She eyed the marks on his neck. “I thought maybe you were human when she said you’d try to rescue us.”
“Not all Ruined are like Olivia.” He closed his fingers around the bars of her cell. “Listen. Do what she wants. Things are . . . tense here. We probably won’t be here for long. If you can hold out for a little while longer, I can try to get you out of here.”
The woman leaned her head against the wall. “That honestly doesn’t inspire much confidence, Aren.” The man in the cell behind Aren laughed hollowly.
“I’m sorry,” he said, the words getting stuck in his throat. “It’s . . .” He wanted to tell her they were working to save all of Lera, that he had to be careful not to bring the full force of Olivia’s anger down on them. But it all sounded stupid. It didn’t excuse that he was leaving them here, maybe to die.
“I’m sorry,” he said again quietly. He slowly got to his feet. “Do you need anything? I can bring more food if you want.”
“Another blanket would be nice,” the woman said. “It’s cold in here at night.”
“Me too,” one of the men said.
“Sure,” he said, relieved to have something to do for them. He walked out of the room, leaving the door propped open.
He found a room around the corner with linens and grabbed four blankets. When he walked back to the cells the woman was standing in front of her bars, her head tilted forward like she was watching to see if he’d really come back. She took a few steps back when she spotted him.
He held one blanket through the bars. She hesitated for a moment before taking it, her fingers lightly brushing his.
“Thank you,” she said.
The shock of her touch vibrated up his arm. His Ruined magic stirred, almost like it wanted him to lean closer to her.
He took a step back instead. The woman was looking at her hand like she’d felt something too. She regarded him suspiciously.
He quickly distributed the other blankets and walked away from the cells. Tears burned in his eyes and he stopped as soon as he was outside. He braced his hands against his thighs, taking in gasps of air.
What use was it to be the most powerful Ruined alive if he couldn’t save anyone? If he couldn’t save Iria?
NINE
CAS TAPPED HIS fingers on his desk as he regarded the man in front of him. He was many years older than Galo, who stood next to him. His name was Jorge, and he was probably in his late forties or early fifties. Gray streaked the sides of his black hair. He’d been part of Cas’s father’s guard since his early twenties, according to Galo. His face was familiar to Cas, though he couldn’t remember ever meeting him.
Cas didn’t think his father would have bothered to pick his captain of the guard personally, but he’d told Galo he wanted to meet everyone. He trusted very few people these days.
“Where were you usually assigned with my father?” Cas asked.
Jorge sat up straighter in his chair. “For the past few years, I was his personal protection whenever he left the castle, Your Majesty. Here, I swept his rooms every day and stood guard outside.”
“What would you change if you became captain of my guard?”
“I would rotate the guards stationed outside your room more often—they’ve been getting drowsy,” Jorge said immediately. “I would form a small, private committee to look into every one of the guards. Some slipped back on your side after you banished Jovita. Anyone who wasn’t always loyal to you should go.”
“Even if they’ve changed their minds?” Cas asked. “We don’t exactly have a surplus of guards right now.”
“A smaller, fiercely loyal group is better than a large group that can be swayed. And the new guards we’re recruiting worship you. You have an incredible reputation with the people of Lera, and we have many interested in being guards as a result. We’ll have plenty of new guards to train.”
Cas leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. “An incredible reputation? I think you may overestimate the people’s love for me. I’m the king trying to convince them that the Ruined aren’t dangerous.”
“No, Your Majesty. They’re scared and confused about the Ruined, but they trust you. They think you’re immortal.”
Cas let out a short laugh. “Immortal?”
“You’ve survived numerous attempts on your life.”
“True. I hope Jovita hears that rumor.” He laughed, though it was tinged with a hint of bitterness. “She’ll really never have a shot at the throne if I can’t die.”
Cas noticed Galo’s lips twitching. He’d mostly been serious through the interviews for the new captain of the guard, but he seemed more relaxed with Jorge, who he’d told Cas was his top choice.
“I’m assuming you agree with my Ruined policies?” Cas asked Jorge.
“I do.”
“You understand it is my sincere hope that you will have direct contact with Emelina Flores soon, and often, and I’ll expect you to protect her the same way you protect me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Cas asked a few more questions about security, then Galo ushered Jorge out of the room.
“Would you like to talk to a few more guards, or have you made a decision?” Galo asked, standing in front of Cas’s desk.
“I think it should be Jorge.”
Galo smiled. “I agree.”
“Why don’t you go change out of your uniform and meet me in the Ocean Room? I have a meeting and I’d like you to attend.”
“The meeting with Violet and Franco?” Galo asked, clearly surprised.
“And Danna and Julieta.”
“Are you sure?” Galo asked.
“I’m sure.” Cas wasn’t sure what role Galo should fill now that he wasn’t a guard, but he was happy to have another person he could trust. Surely he could find something for Galo to do, and Cas would start by keeping him by his side during important meetings.
Galo hurried out of the office, and Cas ate a few bites of the lunch a staff member brought him. Then he headed to the meeting, guards trailing after him. They stopped at the door of the Ocean Room and he stepped inside.
Everyone was already there, including Galo, now dressed in black pants and a crisp blue shirt. They all stood when Cas entered the room.
“Have a seat,” Cas said, sliding into the chair at the head of the table. Violet was on one side of him, Franco on the other. Next to them were Julieta and Danna, and Galo at the end.
“You all look grim,” Cas said. “Did Olivia attack another town?”
“No, Your Majesty,” Franco said. “She appears to have gone back to Westhaven after killing everyone in Fayburn.”
“It’s Jovita,” Violet said. Her voice was gentle, her eyes worried, and Cas already knew what she was going to say.
“She poisoned me,” he said. “You found out for sure.”
“Yes. I’m sorry, Cas.”
His stomach dropped into his feet. He’d known it, deep down, but maybe a part of him had still hoped she didn’t hate him that much. She hadn’t even had the decency to kill him herself. She’d just sent someone in with poisoned soup.
“How did you find out?” Galo asked after a brief silence.
“We talked to some of the guards,” Franco said. “Discreetly. Which led us to some people in the refugee shelters, who spo
ke to us once we assured them we wouldn’t try them for treason as well. None of them actually participated, they just knew of the plan,” he added quickly.
“We’re recommending a couple of guards be let go, because they didn’t come forward with this information earlier,” Violet said.
“You should pass the names along to Jorge,” Galo said. “He’ll take care of it right away.”
Violet nodded.
“This is not new information,” Julieta said. “Most of us suspected it was Jovita. And as long as Jovita is alive, she poses a threat. We understand that you’re not completely opposed to killing her, Your Majesty.”
The words were said so bluntly that Cas blinked, surprised. He glanced at Violet, who was chewing on her lip across from him. She must have told them that he’d asked if the soldiers could take care of Jovita.
“I . . . ,” he began, before realizing he didn’t know what to say.
“No one would blame you,” Violet said quietly. “She threatens the safety of everyone here.”
“Is there any news of her army?”
“It’s growing,” Danna said. “Jovita is smart, and determined. We all know what she’s capable of. We can’t just ignore her. She will attack again, Your Majesty.”
The words triggered a memory, and Cas suddenly heard his father’s voice in his head. Imagine if you were alone with him. Look what he’s capable of. He’d said it to Cas the night he’d captured Damian, as they watched the Ruined use his elemental powers as a result of being tortured. Cas remembered asking who Damian was, and what he’d done, and his father only had one answer: he was Ruined.
The situation with Jovita wasn’t the same—she’d technically broken Lera law by trying to take the throne. He could sentence her to death for treason and attempted murder and no one could argue.
But this had always been his father’s solution. Whether he was scared, or angry, or unsure, he always made the same choice. Kill them before they became a threat. Even if Cas had a better reason than his father, if the outcome still resulted in death, how was Cas any different?
Murmured voices sounded from behind the door, followed by running footsteps. Cas instinctively stiffened, waiting to hear the sounds of Olso attacking. He found himself listening for them at the first sign of trouble. They may have fled when the Ruined came to Lera, but he wasn’t convinced they were gone forever.