Chapter Thirty-Seven

CHAPTER

THIRTY-SEVEN

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W E MAKE IT TO THE CAPITAL OF IMIRATH AFTER DARK , the city of Zinambra. We're nestled on a dock attached to the inn that Finnian stepped into a few moments ago. Several isles make up the city, with canals jutting between them. Water pushes and pulls under the dark, weathered wood as boats with fishing nets hanging off the sides slowly float by, dodging small pieces of ice. The smoke lingering around chimneys is a mocking contrast to the breaths that puff from my lips.

Finnian ends my suffering by waving us toward the front door, fiery curls dancing in the wind. "Almost everywhere is full due to the ball, but they have an attic room we can take."

"So long as there's a bath and a bed, I'm happy," Saskia replies, entering the inn made of the same weathered, gray wood as the dock.

The cold slowly melts off me once we enter. The inn doubles as a tavern, as most do, and the smell of a hearty winter stew hangs heavily in the air. I keep my head down, not wanting to risk making eye contact with the wrong person, and follow Finnian's footsteps to a narrow staircase.

The ceiling is warped and slanted, causing three out of the five of us to hunch over as we climb several levels, not stopping until the steps lead to a singular door. Finnian bounds up and slides his fingers on top of the doorframe to retrieve a key, puffing dust into the air in the process. It creaks as he pushes it open, and our view of the canal through three large windows is breathtaking.

Lanterns hang from the tips of boats gliding under bridges carrying people buried in furs to take in the sights. It's darker here than in Vareveth, both in architecture and feeling. The buildings have sharp silhouettes and steep steps leading to the water. Some restaurants reside on their own private islands speckled throughout the city. People walk arm in arm down narrow streets, some wearing freshly painted masks and others shouting about the decadent gowns made of velvet and silk that'll catch the eye of any suitor at the ball.

The room is equipped with plush furs and blankets strewn about, but anything is better than sleeping outside again. It's clean, warm, and safe enough. I dive onto the furs and wrap myself in a thick blanket after untying my cloak. It's a fight to keep my eyes open while I watch everyone settle in.

"Move farther away," Saskia hisses. "If you kick me in your sleep, I'll throw you in the canal."

Cayden chokes on a laugh when Ryder's mouth drops open, but he soon recovers and glares at his sister. "Seeing your face would give me nightmares, anyway."

The Neredras siblings would die for each other, but gods, they don't miss an opportunity to bicker.

"Let's make a plan," she says, looking to Cayden.

"People are most likely making wagers on invitations to the ball, so we'll need to hit a gambling den."

"We're gambling?" Ryder perks up.

"I don't place a bet unless I know the outcome. We're stealing them," Cayden says.

"We'll also need attire for the ball," I add.

"Gods, we sound like a gang." Finnian laughs.

"Don't think of it as stealing." I smile at him. "Think of it as redefining ownership."

"Deviant," he replies. "We need to decide on roles for infiltrating the castle. Walking up to the front door, masks or not, when nobody knows us is a risk."

"That's why we're stealing castle guard uniforms tonight as well," I say, immediately grasping everyone's attention. "You three are going to enter the castle through the dungeon and break into the office of the captain of the guard to forge an order for all the guards in the east tower to attend an emergency meeting in the west wing. Once that's complete, one of you will come to the ball to give Cayden and me a signal."

"And after that?" Ryder asks.

"You'll leave the castle and begin the journey back to Vareveth," Cayden answers.

"But how will you find us?"

I sink my nails into my palms. "The dragons are . . . unpredictable. They might follow me right away, or it may take them time to accept the bond once they're freed." They might kill you for leaving them. Your mind could've tricked you into believing they still love you. "We'll do what we must to flee and survive, but the path we take will most likely be forced upon us through circumstances."

"Forge travel papers while you're in the captain's office. You can steal a boat and travel down the Emer. It's the perfect cover because of the ball," Cayden adds. I offer him an appreciative smile before he fixes his hard eyes back on the group, daring anyone to challenge us.

Finnian's and Ryder's jaws are locked, and Saskia twiddles with her tied-back braids. "I despise that this is our best option," she whispers.

***

The gambling den vibrates my feet, and I can already smell the pipe smoke pouring from the open windows. I grip the edge of the roof and drop myself to a ledge before climbing onto a thick wooden rafter, hardly dodging a cobweb, and coating my fingers in dust. If I weren't wearing a mask, I'd probably give my position away by delving into a coughing fit. Dark purple drapes hang like a star from the pointed ceiling, matching the tables below. Coins clatter to the ground, fights break out, and people kiss their precious winnings with tears streaking down their faces as I weave through the rafters like a spider, spinning a web of thievery and deception.

I do what I've done for most of my life, wait and observe, taking in the details most people think nobody notices. The man plucking a card from his pocket to rig the game in his favor. The woman swiping a man's wallet off the bar while he's mesmerized by her smile. The pair who exit a coat closet looking far more ruffled than when they first entered.

A man claps his hands and hollers obnoxiously, making a show of waving around two stiff pieces of paper trimmed in silver. I can see the fancy swooping script detailing the invitations to the ball from here. Gods, some people make it too easy. It's like they're begging to be robbed.

I turn back to the window when I've seen enough, hopping along the beams and doing my best not to plummet and break my neck. Cayden grips my wrists once I'm out and hauls me up. "Hear anything interesting, little shadow?"

I pause when he recites the first words he ever spoke to me and stare up at his face illuminated by moonlight, much like it was in the forest when we made the deal. But we've changed since then, whether we like it or not. He's always looked at me with intensity. I've always known he'd pull me from fire if I was in danger and torch those who'd harmed me once I was safe. He'd haul me through a battlefield, through worlds, or steal me from a god to accomplish his goals. But there's a softness in his eyes now, a familiarity. It terrifies me just as much as it exhilarates me.

"There's a man who won two invitations coming out soon," I say.

He nods, and we lean over the edge to watch the front door. Cayden whistles when I point him out, and Ryder kicks off the wall to trail him. We hop from roof to roof, the scent of smoked fish and meats mingling with the salty, damp air. In all my nightmares of Imirath, I never imagined there to be so much . . . life. It feels like I've been lied to, but I know I haven't. I don't know how to describe this feeling. I could've been one of these people ambling through the streets in fine gowns or taking boat rides through floating gardens, but I'm a common thief in place of a princess. Part of me mourns for what could've been, while knowing I'd never sacrifice what I have now.

We hop down when Finnian and Saskia cut the man off at the end of a deserted street. He stops in his tracks and raises his shaking hands. "I don't want any trouble."

Ryder jams the hilt of his sword into his head, and we watch as he collapses onto the road. The worst he'll have when he wakes is a headache as he laments the loss of the two invitations Saskia leans down to pluck from his coat pocket.

"We should put him in the stables," I say, pointing toward an open stall.

"Your kindness knows no bounds," Cayden says, hauling the man into his arms. I may have helped rob the man, but I have some compassion. Cayden tosses him into the hay with the same amount of care someone exercises when discarding rancid meat.

"I saw a tavern a few roads over. There should be some guards still in uniform," Ryder says. "We should get started since we need three and can't steal them from a shop."

"Two," Cayden responds.

Ryder scrunches his brows. "Three."

"I killed a guard while you were all resting and stashed the uniform in an empty barrel beside the inn."

"We're supposed to be doing this together. " Ryder sounds extremely offended despite being told we have one less thing to do.

"My apologies for not napping with you. I know skin-to-skin contact is very important for babes and their mothers." Cayden leans against a post and begins cutting an apple he plucks from a barrel, holding his knife to my lips to offer me a piece. He dusts his fingers against my cheek when I take it, so quickly it feels like a hallucination.

"No." Ryder pulls me away from his side, wrapping his arm around my shoulders while Cayden watches us, lazily chewing on the apple. He must be used to Ryder's dramatics by now. "You're sitting the next guard out, and she's with us."

I gulp the apple down when Ryder smiles at me, already knowing I won't like what he has planned.