Hristo hovered three paces away, unsure what he should do.
Nothing, I hoped. Nothing right now. He was still safe and I wanted him to stay that way.
Elbena’s face was dark with rage, and her jaw set as though she wanted to bite.
“That was a mistake.” She kept her voice low. From the ballroom, I could still hear Dara making excuses and promises, the rumble of gossip and rumors, and the musicians playing a light tune—as if that could repair the damage I’d done. “Most of the council was against pulling you out of the Pit for this, but I fought for you. I believed you wanted another chance, and I believed you would do anything for our forgiveness.”
I pressed my lips tight together, trapping any words inside.
Hristo stared helplessly at me, hopelessly. If he broke his cover now, everything would be far worse.
“Do you even understand the severity of the mistake you made?”
Strength through silence. I met her eyes and gave her my most defiant stare.
“Why would you throw away the opportunity to go home?”
“I didn’t throw away an opportunity,” I said. “I took one. It was my chance to tell people what was right and I don’t regret it.”
Elbena seethed, but there was nothing she could do. Not here, when someone might come out and see. And not later, because I was still Mira Minkoba. I was still the Hopebearer and the Dragonhearted and anything else they wanted to call me.
After a moment’s hesitation, she seized my arm again and hauled me down the stairs. We crossed the lobby in twenty long steps, thundered through the wide double doors, and waited in angry silence while Hristo fetched the carriage.
The ride back was an ever-tightening knot of anxiety. Elbena didn’t speak, just glared and made sure the curtains were closed so I couldn’t see outside. Hristo sat next to me, but there was nothing he could do, no way he could offer support. I could feel it, though, in the way he kept looking at me, and the way his hands became fists where they rested on his knees.
In the inn, she dragged me to my room and shoved me inside.
“Give me your dagger,” she said, turning to Hristo.
He froze, gaze darting from Elbena to me. Why did she want a weapon?
She wouldn’t hurt me. Of that I was confident. And if Hristo refused, she would discover his identity and he would be in more trouble than I could imagine. His safety was at stake.
Still, my heart pounded as I gave the slightest nod. Hristo frowned, but unsheathed the dagger and handed it hilt-first to Elbena.
“Wait there,” she ordered. Her voice was oddly calm as she came into my room and shut the door. The dagger hung from her hand, the flat thumping against her thigh. “It’s only fair to tell you again how disappointed I am. I thought better of you.”
“And I’m disappointed in the Luminary Council. I’d hoped for action when I approached you about the vanishing dragons, not a speedy relocation to the Pit.” Suddenly, I couldn’t stop the flow of words. “I’d hoped everyone meant what they said about equality throughout the islands, not this betrayal of the very core of the Mira Treaty.”
Elbena slapped me so hard that even she looked surprised. The smack echoed in my head just one heartbeat before the pain flashed bright across my vision—and then my sight went dark.
Dizzy, I staggered back one step and grabbed for the footboard of my bed. My fingers slid over the smooth wood, but I glared and pulled myself upright. “You’re afraid of me,” I said. “You and the rest of the Luminary Council. You made me into a powerful voice, thinking I would always be your voice, but you were wrong. I am not a tool to be used at your convenience. I will not be wielded against the very foundations of the treaty named after me.
“I’ve spent my entire life hearing about the importance of the Mira Treaty. Don’t be surprised that I believe in it. And don’t be shocked that I will use my voice—the voice you gave me—to speak out about the gross injustices done by the very people who signed the treaty against such actions.”
She exhaled. One long breath. “So instead of just saying a few simple words in order to go home, you’d rather defend a bunch of Daughter-children to a room of people who will never change their minds about the deportation decree?”
“Any day.”
“I don’t like this person you’re becoming, Mira. I don’t like this recklessness I see in you now. It won’t benefit either of us.” Her face was deadly calm as her fingers turned pale around Hristo’s dagger.
I glanced down at the dagger just as it moved up.
Before I could think.
Before I could react.
Before I could realize.
Elbena cut me.
At first, it stung like needles, but as the blade dragged down my cheek, the sting bloomed into an inferno of anguish. Liquid fire fell from parted skin. Tears streamed from my eyes and burned in the opening wound. Blinding pain lit up the left side of my face.
I screamed and reeled backward, but the damage was done. She was too quick and I was too slow.
I’d believed she wouldn’t hurt me.
How wrong I’d been.
I pressed my hand against the gaping cut, as though I could stop the flow of blood, but my touch was like hot coals. I convulsed under conflicting instincts: apply pressure, but don’t touch. Also: run away. But where would I run?
The bedroom door flew open and Hristo rushed in, but Elbena held up a hand. “Stop.”
He stopped.
I dropped to my knees, cupping my face, trying not to touch it. My hand trembled, sticky with my own blood. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be silent. My left eye squeezed shut and my mouth pulled painfully. A low, agonized groan filled the room; it was coming from me.
Elbena examined the red-smeared dagger. “I’ve never cut anyone before. I didn’t think it would be so easy.”
I wanted to say something snappy, but tendrils of fire spread around my whole head. My thoughts burned into ash.
“I’ll send a doctor.” Elbena handed Hristo back his blade and started for the door. She paused in the hall and turned back. “You’ll be heading back to the Pit the day after tomorrow, once the Chance Encounter has finished securing cargo. So relax while you can, because the report I send to your keeper there will not be favorable.”
Then she was gone, the door closed behind her.
My hands were like claws over my face, as though I could peel away the pain. It didn’t help. Blackness swarmed up from the depths of my mind, and all the noorestones seemed to dim.
I collapsed the rest of the way to the floor.
Hristo rushed to me, but he was too late. My head cracked against the hardwood, and I knew only darkness.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
A DOCTOR STITCHED MY FACE AND DRUGGED ME until everything was numb.
My face.
My thoughts.
My fingers.
Even my numbers.
I faded in and out of existence for a while. Every time I emerged and the pain was unbearable, someone pressed a cup to my lips and made me drink. Never before had I realized how much my cheeks were involved in swallowing, but the bitter liquid dropped the hazy sky of numbness over me again.
Finally, a voice broke through. “We have to leave immediately.”
My heart stopped. Ilina.
“She’s not well enough.” That was Hristo.
“It’s her face, not her legs. She can walk.” Ilina paced through the room. “When the sedatives wear off, she’ll wake up.”
My mouth felt weirdly detached and slow, but I said, “I am awake.”
“Mira!” Ilina rushed to my side.
I peeled my eyes open to find the room lit only by noorestones. The curtains, pulled closed, showed no light around the edges, and the inn had the stillness of everyone sleeping. Bandages had been packed against my cheek, and rubbed against the gash when I spoke. Everything hurt, but I needed to be here with my friends. Present. Awake. “How long have I been out?”
; “One day.” Ilina sat on the bed next to me and took my hand.
“I’m glad you’re here.” I tried to squeeze her hand, but I couldn’t tell if my fingers were actually moving. Everything felt so fuzzy from the medicine. “What happened?”
“You left the dining hall in an uproar,” Ilina said. “Everyone started talking after you left. Dara kept trying to explain that you were ill, but at least a couple of people wondered if you were right.”
That wasn’t what I’d meant, but I supposed it was good to hear that someone had listened. “Where are LaLa and Crystal? What happened to them?” That hadn’t been my intended question, either. I kept losing track of my thoughts. But suddenly I desperately needed to know about my dragon.
Ilina spoke gently. Too gently. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow when you feel better.”
“I want to know now.”
“Tell her,” Hristo said. “No point in sparing her feelings when wondering is going to make her feel worse.”
“Were they taken too?” I rasped. “Like the others? Tower and Astrid and Lex . . .” I needed to tell them about Lex, but Hristo already knew. He’d already seen— “Did they take my dragon?”
Ilina shook her head. “No. I mean, I don’t think so. The morning we came to visit you, before you were sent to Khulan, Crystal and LaLa just flew away.”
“They didn’t come when we whistled,” Hristo said. “Or called their names, or promised food. They left.”
“Have they come back?” My voice was weak. Small.
“Mira . . .”
I wanted to sink into the bed and die. “LaLa thinks I abandoned her.”
“No, I’m sure that’s not it.” But Ilina didn’t say what else it might have been, and misery dug its claws deep into me. My friends knew why I’d vanished, but I couldn’t explain the situation to a dragon. What kind of person befriended a baby dragon, spent nine years training her and growing close, and then did something stupid that resulted in prison? Leaving that baby dragon alone.
Of course LaLa and Crystal had flown away. They knew all they had was each other.
“Don’t look so sad,” Ilina said. “We have a plan.”
“For getting LaLa and Crystal back?”
Ilina made a face somewhere between a smirk and a grimace. “No. Your escape, obviously.”
“Oh. Right.” The medicine was making me slow.
“Escape can wait a few more minutes.” Hristo stood at the foot of the bed, his hands behind his back and his head bowed. Though he wore the Luminary Guard uniform, the mask was gone and the jacket was unbuttoned. Both daggers were at his hips, even the one that had cut me. I wondered if it felt poisonous to him now. Traitorous.
But Hristo didn’t think like that. He was sensible. Protective. I’d have said paranoid before, but after learning about Hurrok trying to kill me last year, I knew better. He was constantly on guard so that I didn’t have to be.
“Mira,” he said, “before anything else, I have to tell you that I’m sorry. I came to protect you and I failed.”
“Hristo.” I pushed myself up until I was sitting. Ilina helped support me where my arms trembled. The numbing medicine still rushed through me, making my movements uncertain. “This isn’t your fault. This is Elbena’s doing.”
“It was my job to stop her,” he insisted.
When I reached for him, he rounded the foot of the bed and took my hand. Ilina took my other, and there I was, connected to the two people I loved best. Their strength filled me, and for five long heartbeats, I just closed my eyes and breathed in this moment.
“You are both the most loyal, bravest people I know.” I didn’t deserve friends like them. “How did you get here?”
“It was your parents, actually,” Hristo said.
“Did they send you?”
He shook his head. “They don’t know we’re here.”
“Your parents worked day and night for your release,” Ilina said. “When they heard about the Bophan Senate dinner, they suggested taking you out of the Pit for it. They said you’d learned your lesson about questioning the Luminary Council and you’d do whatever you were ordered.”
My heart sank. When Mother heard about my performance last night, she would be furious. Even in prison, I was a disappointment to her.
“The Luminary Council fought about it for hours,” Ilina said. “Your parents told my parents, who told me. I think they were just relieved that I was speaking to them, because they told me more than I should have known otherwise—about ship schedules, Luminary Guard selection, and when you would be here.”
“No one let us come,” Hristo said. “But we’d promised we’d help you.”
“I was serious when I said I’d drain the seas if I must.” Ilina squeezed my hand. “So when the council decided to give you a chance, we formed a plan to get you out, just in case they decided to try sending you back to the Pit.”
Or in case I ruined my chances.
“It wasn’t easy,” Hristo said. “I stole a Luminary Guard uniform, but I had to be careful about the times I was with you. I didn’t want to insist I be near you and risk getting caught.”
I nodded, but the movement made my head swim. “Even I didn’t realize you were there until the other night.”
Hristo smiled. “I wanted you to know someone was there for you, but I also didn’t want you to know, because I was worried Elbena might figure out that I was your protector.” Again, his eyes flicked to my cheek. His smile disappeared.
“You still are,” I whispered, my fingers twisted tight with his. “No matter what, I know that you are always protecting me.” I wouldn’t tell him that I’d been imprisoned with someone who’d tried to murder me—not yet, anyway—but he needed to know I still trusted him. I trusted him more than ever.
His response was low and rumbling. “Thank you.”
I turned to Ilina. “And you? How did you come to be a server at such an important state dinner on Bopha?”
She gave a weak laugh. “I’ll tell you when we’re out of here, but my story involves forgery, stowing away on a ship, and bribery.”
They brushed all that effort aside, as though it had been nothing to learn where I’d be and come for a big rescue, but I knew it hadn’t been easy.
Never had I anticipated them taking such actions, and my eyes stung with tears as I imagined the challenges they’d endured—for me. I didn’t deserve such friends.
“As for the rest of our plan”—Ilina leaned forward—“the Chance Encounter leaves on the morning tide. Elbena won’t be on the ship, and we know the captain. The crew will help us if we board tonight. No one will search it for you in the morning, and once they’ve made their stops, we can get off anywhere. Or we don’t have to get on the Chance Encounter at all, if you don’t want. We can leave the Shadowed City and go anywhere on Bopha. It will be more dangerous, though.”
“Thank you.” My voice broke, caught somewhere between love and fear. “You’ve done so much.”
Ilina drew back, already sensing what I was about to do. “But?”
I dreaded saying the words. Their reactions. But if I didn’t speak now, I might go along with their plan and feel terrible about myself for the rest of my days. “I have to return to the Pit.”
“No.” Ilina squeezed my hand. “We won’t let you. You’re never going back there.”
I was already shaking my head—carefully, because I didn’t want them to think I was too weak for this. “I must. My allies—”
“Forget about them.” Ilina surged to her feet. “Forget all about them. Everything that happened there.”
“I can’t. I left people there, and they don’t deserve to be in the Pit any more than I did.” Tears stung my eyes. “Altan hurts them to get to me. He’s a Drakon Warrior.”
Ilina’s eyes grew wide. “Really? They still exist?”
“Not legally, I think.” I bit my lip. “He wanted to know about the shipping order.”
My friends exchanged uneasy glances.
“What did you tell him?” Ilina asked.
“Where he could find the dragons, before they’re shipped to the Algotti Empire for good. I thought better the dragons remain with the Fallen Isles than with our enemies.”
“And did he send people to take back the dragons?” A glow of hope lit her face.
“I don’t know.” I swallowed hard. “He wasn’t exactly forthcoming with information. But our goals aligned there. He wants the Heart’s dragons, but I don’t know whether he succeeded. If he did, his people should have reached them already.” Oh, Damina. What if LaLa had been taken? And Altan “rescued” her?
I’d never be able to live with myself.
“If the dragons are rescued,” Hristo said, “the Luminary Council will know the information came from you. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out who told the Drakon Warriors where to find the dragons.”
I slumped. I hadn’t thought of that.
“The line of information points straight to you again. If you have to go back to the Pit and the council finds out you told Altan, you will never get out.” Ilina moved to cover noorestones to keep anyone from investigating the light this late. “The other prisoners don’t deserve you going back just for them.”
Ilina was my wingsister, but I didn’t know how to explain Aaru.
“What about Chenda M’rizz? The Lady of Eternal Dawn.” I glanced between Hristo and Ilina. “She’s politically useful to have on our side. Plus, her crime was the same as mine: she stood up against immoral actions and was betrayed by the people entrusted to protect her island.”
“The deportation decree?” Ilina glanced at Hristo, her manner softening.
“She’s the reason I knew about it ahead of time.”
Hristo’s voice was a soft rumble. “Is that why you didn’t recite Elbena’s speech?”
“I couldn’t permit more suffering.”
“You could have used the chance to tell everyone you’d been suffering too,” Ilina said.
“I didn’t even think about that.” It was true. It hadn’t occurred to me to announce my captivity. My fingertips grazed across the bandage on my cheek. “Imagine what Elbena would have done if I’d told everyone about that.”