Chapter Fifty

Signey and I hurried down the steps of the guardhouse, night sweeping over the courtyard, skipping over the fountains and benches, those bruising purple hyacinths.

Two figures stepped from the shadows.

“Quick, huh?” Kaspar said. “You were in there a half hour.”

“We got stuck. A few guards stopped outside the supply closet, but it’s fine.” I opened the laundry bag and dumped a bundle of clothes on the grass. “Signey, will you stand watch while we put these on?”

Kaspar reached for a pair of pants, the tension falling from his shoulders. “Oh. Learn anything that might help?”

“They’re—” Signey started.

“The prison guards rotate at midnight.” My fingers worked the toggles on the coat.

Signey glanced at me, a slender brow arching in a question. Are you going to tell them?

I ignored it, and she didn’t say anything else.

Good.

They didn’t need to know.

“Midnight,” Kaspar repeated, tipping his chin toward the clock tower. “That’s in fifteen minutes.”

I grabbed a pair of satin gloves. “Then we’d better go.”

The clock tower loomed as we made our way across the courtyard, white as lilies, white as bone. Wind snarled through my hair, raked its fingers against the empty fountains and rosebushes, the statues of bronze horses.

Fifteen minutes.

That would be enough time. It had to be enough time.

I stopped outside the iron door leading down to the prison and turned to face them.

Signey had pulled her shoulders up, her eyes bright and glassy. The tips of Bo’s cheeks blistered red from the cold. Kaspar blew on his hands and bounced from foot to foot.

Me. They were waiting for me because I knew Larland, because I knew how to get Erik out.

And I would get Erik out.

I straightened and tipped my chin toward the door. “Kaspar and I will pretend to be the replacements.” The clock tower shone bright. Fifteen minutes . “Don’t follow until you see the old guards leave.”

“What if the old guards don’t leave?” Bo asked.

“They will.” They had to.

I pulled the door open and headed into the dark.

The tang of sulfur hit my nose. Lanterns lit a narrow staircase. Water wept down the walls. A pair of mice scooted over the stair’s rounded lip.

“We’ll need to convince them to leave their shift early,” I whispered, running the tip of my glove against the rain-slick stone.

“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Kaspar replied.

“And we’ll need to get the keys to the cells.”

Fifteen minutes .

“How do we get the keys?”

“We’ll figure something out.”

He opened his mouth, but before he could reply, we reached the bottom of the steps and the prison opened up like the inside of a ballroom, fit with towering walls and ornate pillars carved with hollow-eyed faces, strong chins and straight noses, mouths twisting in agony.

Two guards lounged on the galley benches behind the portcullis, one muscled, the other old. His pillowing of white hair stood out from his head like goose down.

Step one: meet the guards.

“You’re early,” the old one said, checking his watch with a flick of the wrist.

“Not by much.” Fifteen minutes. I gave him what I hoped was a bright smile. “It’s my first day. I asked Klaus,” a nudge toward Kaspar, “if we could get a head start. Mind letting us in?”

The guard muttered something about newbies, but the iron grate groaned, rusty water dripping off the finial spikes.

“Any issues?” I asked, ducking inside. “Anything we should know about?”

The muscled one wrinkled his nose and swatted the air. “Nah. It’s been pretty quiet. Night shift usually is.”

Step two: get the keys.

Kaspar noticed them at the same time I did, a brassy ring sitting by the guard’s knee.

A hint of a smile played at his lips, and he nodded as if to say he had this. The keys flickered, melting into the gray-flecked stone the way butter melts into a piece of warm bread.

Then, as if he remembered we couldn’t rely on reykr, he sat on them.

My heart kicked. I wanted to laugh. This was too easy.

The muscled guard had apparently said something and was waiting for a response.

“What?”

“It’s why they give it to newbies,” he said. “The night shift?”

I dragged my attention away from Kaspar and the keys. “Right. Of course. Night shift. The easiest. So, um, this is where we let you out, right?”

Step three: replace the guards.

The old guard raised a hand. “Aren’t you going to do the check?”

The…check?

The guard waited, his face patient, one weathered hand folded over the other.

I released a breath. “Oh. Right. The check.” Fifteen minutes . I peeked down the cell-lined hallway. Lanterns hissed, their light reflecting like pools of oil on the smooth black floor.

I tugged at the hem of my sleeve. “All good.”

“Come on.” The old guard started down the hallway. “I won’t tell the captain you nearly missed it. We all need a little slack the first day.”

I shot one glance at Kaspar, who nodded, but stayed at the front. He couldn’t come. He couldn’t leave the keys.

“You coming?” the old guard asked.

I hurried to follow, the reek of sulfur growing stronger. Bodies hunched behind bars, ragged clothes, ashen faces.

The guard let the hilt of his dagger clink against the bars as we walked. “We have fifty-five prisoners in here right now. You should have gotten that number from the captain before you started the shift.” He paused. The blade of his dagger flashed. “You got that number, right?”

“Of course.”

Fifteen minutes.

“We load them front to back, two to a cell, so first twenty-eight should be full. They’re numbered.” He tapped a rusted nameplate. “Do you want to check the rest?”

“Where’s the Vold general?” It was dangerous to ask, but—

“You’ve heard of him?”

“A little,” I said, unsure how much information had been shared. “I was…curious.”

The guard leaned close and tapped two fingers at the knot of scar tissue beneath his left eye. “Best to stay away from him. You took syn rót?” A nod. “Good girl. Do you want to check the rest of the cells?” He drew back and dug his watch out of his pocket. “Nine minutes until midnight. We have time.”

Nine minutes .

I hurried down the hallway, the heels of my boot ringing against the black stone steps.

Backs and blankets, a man with a scruffy face, each cell illuminated by the lamp affixed to the pillar by the door. Shivers and snores. A woman scraped food from a bowl with her hand and—

There. Erik. Cell twenty-eight. His cheek was pressed against the floor, his eyes shut. Dirt smudged his brow, matted his hair. Something dark red crusted around his nose, his ears. Blood? Every muscle in my body screamed at me to find a way in, to haul his head into my lap, to pick the dust from his hair, to hold him.

“All accounted for,” I said, returning. “Now we hold the door for you?”

Step three: replace the guards.

The guard’s gaze flicked to my hands. “You bring a book? Cards? Something to do?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Nine minutes. Less now.

The guard sighed and pulled a book out of his jacket.

I glanced at the cover, pale blue leather embossed with a boy and a girl. The boy sat in the window of a tower, a hand on his cheek, his gaze toward the sky. Below him, the girl stretched on her tiptoes, a silver star caught in the press of her palm, a dozen at her feet. Her hair fell in a single braid down her back and the way she perched…

Aalto and Vega.

“A love story,” I said. An interesting choice for a guard.

“Not a love story,” he replied. “A war story. Or did you forget the hell Vega’s father raised after she freed Aalto?”

“Didn’t he sink a city?”

The guard rasped the cover. “A little more than that.”

Kaspar must have smuggled the keys into his pocket, because as soon as we reached the front galley, he began cranking the shaft to the portcullis. The wood spokes ticked with each rotation. Metal screeched.

“I bunk in Harbell House,” the old guard said. “For when you return it. You’ll probably finish it before the end of your shift. It’s a tiny thing, but don’t let that fool you. Sometimes the small things are the strongest.”

The guards ducked under the portcullis and headed toward the winding stairs.

“Wait,” I called. My voice rung out over the stone, and I flinched. “Can you tell me the time?”

The older guard flicked open his watch.

Tick, tick, tick.

His brow scrunched. He tipped the clock face, trying to find a beam of light. “Five minutes to midnight.” With that, they disappeared up the stairs.

Five minutes .

It wasn’t enough.

It had to be enough.

“You think we can…?” Kaspar asked.

“Hold the gate,” I said, keeping my face toward the dark.

A door creaked open, closed, then open again. The drum of footsteps, smooth like a mooring, steady like a heart. My hands tingled.

This was it.

Signey and Bo rounded the corner in their uniforms, breathless.

“We don’t have much time,” Signey said. “Only—”

“Five minutes.”

“Four.”

And then we were sprinting down the hallway, past the backs and blankets, the lines of cells.

“He’s in twenty-eight.”

“He’s—”

“I didn’t get a good look at him.”

Kaspar threw the keys at Bo and tore off his guard jacket. “They check the cells. We’ll pad the blanket with the extra clothes. Make it look like he’s sleeping.”

The cell door swung open, and I was on my knees.

“Erik? Erik?”

I pressed two fingers against his neck. Hot. His skin was hot and—

Shit. How much s?ven had they given him?

“We have to move,” Signey said, glancing behind her.

Erik groaned, his lids fluttering. “Isabel…” A rasp, a scrape. “Wow. I must…really be…hallucinating…” His head lulled.

I fumbled with my bag, pulling out a flask of coffee, just as Kaspar stole the entire sack and shoved it at the head of his makeshift Erik.

“Sorry about this,” I said, tipping the entire flask into Erik’s mouth. “Swallow. Good.” Not pleasant, but the caffeine would act as a stimulant and hopefully counteract some of the s?ven.

“Help him up?” Signey asked.

“One second,” I replied.

I hooked my fingers beneath his chin and brought his face to meet mine, handsome and stormy, all angles.

“Listen,” I said. “I want you to know something, and you might not remember when you wake up, but I’m going to say it anyway. You matter. Not because of your magic or whatever you are in Volgaard’s army, but because of who you are. That’s why I’m doing this. You . Because I see you. I see all of you, and it is beautiful and wonderful, and you are beautiful and wonderful. And I… I wish we’d had more time.” The confession was rushed and awkward, chaste as a closed-mouth kiss. I could feel the tips of my ears turning pink. I laughed and swiped tears from my eyes. “The minister told me to woo you, but that’s not why I did it. I understand if you never trust me again but…yeah. I just, I hope you heard that.”

With the amount of s?ven in his system, I doubted it. He’d probably wake hating me, would probably hate me for the rest of his life. Still, it felt nice to say the words out loud.

I see you. You matter.

I glanced at Signey, jitters flitting through my palms. “Help him up?”

She was already at his elbow.

Then we were barreling back down the hall of cells, Erik suspended between Signey and Kaspar.

The other prisoners were on their feet, clapping, cheering. Their cries filled the halls.

The clock tower rang. Shit. It would be worse if we weren’t able to get everyone out. If we were all trapped here when—

I reached the crank wheel, the spokes cool and slick under my palm.

With a heavy twist, I threw my weight against it. I did it again. The portcullis began easing, metal spikes lifting from stone.

Twist, crank.

My arms ached. My muscles burned.

Twist, crank.

Twist, crank.

The prisoners’ cheers echoed into the galley. The clock tower’s tune finished, and the deaf knell vibrated through the walls. One… two… three…

I blocked it out and focused on the crank. My hands shook.

Twist, crank.

Twist, crank.

Stefan’s words from the guardhouse looped in my mind like the strain on a sonnet.

The transport will be ready in fifteen minutes. They scheduled it with the change of the guard. And—

I don’t know where the Vold general’s going. Somewhere he’ll never be seen again. And—

Thirty men, most from Wilhelm’s personal guard. Probably overkill, but the Red King isn’t taking any chances.

Signey had looked at me like she knew what that meant. Because if the transport was showing up with the change of guard, it would be impossible to make them believe Erik was in his cell.

“We can’t take thirty men,” she’d said, her voice low. “Not if they have syn rót.”

Another swirl of memory. The strike of flint against stone. A leaf on a tongue. Tendrils of tar black smoke snake from a lamp. The sooth’s white irises, her pupils nothing but pricks.

I see… A threshold… she said. A mighty threshold.

“Go,” I screamed. Chains rattled. Metal bit into my skin. The shouts of prisoners grew louder.

Kaspar stopped in the doorway. “The change of guard—”

It will be…difficult…to pass…

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “GO!”

They were pulling Erik under the metal spikes. His feet scraped the slick stone floor. His head lulled.

And you…you will hold the door.

The knell of the clock tower stopped, its hollowness filling the prison like a vacuum, a void.

Signey ducked back into the galley. With the slash of a knife, she cut a lock of hair and pressed something small and cool into my palm. Her eyes found mine. “Thank you.”

I clasped my fingers around it. “They’ll come after you.”

“I know.”

“You know where to take him?”

“I do.”

“Be careful.”

“I will.”

Then they were hauling Erik back up the stairs, disappearing around the corner, out of sight.

I glanced at what she’d given me, at the silver bead sitting round and perfect in my palm, stamped with a lattice of knots and whorls.

This doesn’t change anything, I’d said. We were back in the guard closet. The smell of leather and cotton filtered around us. I had my knees pulled to my chest, eyes fixed on the slat of light that banded under the door. Signey crouched beside me, death-still. “We stick to the original plan.”

“But the transport—”

“Trust me.”

A pause. Footsteps faded down the hall.

“I won’t let you stay behind.” Her words came out as a choke.

“They’re after magic. Vold magic. You, Bo, Kaspar. You all have it. You’re the strongest Volgaard has to offer. Someone’s going to have to stay behind.” My chest ached, my heart split. “And I’m the only one who can.”

With a crack, the spoke pulled out of my hand and the portcullis thundered shut, the metallic clang filling the walls of the prison.

And I was alone.