Chapter 35

" Y ou two look worse than I do" was all Viola said when we returned. Gemma and I came up with a lie about needing fresh air. Viola didn't seem to buy it but didn't press the issue any further, probably gathering that whatever the hell happened out there didn't include rainbows and sunshine.

I regret ever having gone there. For ever having the nerve to think that life might bend to my wishes. I hate myself for involving Gemma in a fool's errand that put her life in danger. Who knows whether or not Guylita knew anything about the prophecy? Would it have been worse to get there only to find out that she knew nothing? I spent the rest of the evening pondering that question, digging myself further and further into a miserable hole.

My lesson the following day might have been the least productive of them all. With Olly still at the border and the shadow of mystery still shrouding my future, I couldn't clear enough mind space to produce even the simplest magic. So instead of allowing Sir Magis to humiliate me with incompetence, I ended our lesson early and began looking for a quiet place to escape.

I wandered through the winding hallways counting the statues and studying paintings until I stumbled upon the tiny room with the tiny figurines placed atop a not so tiny map. I squeeze in front of one of the six tall-backed chairs to lean over the table and study the configuration. Ten figurines are still outside the border like before, but now there are two figurines on the Mendacian side of the border, north of Carcera, and one very close to Somne. The lone figurine is right along the coast, just south of Somne's city center. If I'm not mistaken, it might be near the palace.

What exactly does that mean? I know that Olly is at the border dealing with some skirmish there, so the figurines near the border probably represent the action there. Could it be one figurine for each person? Each hundred? Each thousand? It's a little disconcerting to see that two appear to have crossed the border. Could an Umbrian troop have broken past the barrier that Liliana described? Or perhaps they were already here? My chest tightens as my eyes fall back on the lone figurine.

Does that mean that our enemy has breached the palace? I have neither the energy nor the will to fight a war.

The overwhelming sense of dread bubbling up in my gut lurches when muffled male voices pierce through the tapestry-covered wall. Part of me wants to walk away and pretend that I never heard, but the other part of me wants to listen just in case they let some vital piece of information slip about the prophecy or the impending war.

My curiosity gets the better of me once again, and I pull back the thick fabric from the wall and press my ear against it.

"She's detained," the cold, hissing voice makes me shiver.

"Good. That's good. And you're sure that she never got a chance to speak with Radya?"

My name.

I go so still that my breathing nearly halts.

"Yes, my king. We swiftly removed her," says the icy male. "We took the pseudo-prophet the moment she stepped outside."

The shock physically manifests like being punched in the gut. The air spouts from my lungs, and I fall back into the chair behind me, knocking it over. It makes a loud thud as it slams against the ground. The voices on the other side go silent. They heard me.

I have to run.

I bolt like the room is on fire, winding through the hallways until I recognize the spiraling staircase that leads to the rooftop. Breathless and reeling, I climb the stairs, not knowing what I might find when I get there.

How soon until they figure out I was listening to them? Or that I know they detained Guylita? What will they do to me when they find out?

Oh, gods, I'm going to be sick.

How did they even know about our meeting? I was so careful only to discuss my plans when no invisibles were in the vicinity. My mind flashes back to the king grabbing my arm before I could meet her. He insisted that I stay beside him. And Liliana followed me around, carting me from person to person, like a chaperone. Then, the moment I freed myself from them, Guylita disappeared.

Did they know?

They did.

They must have.

They knew everything all along. They knew that she was there to speak with me. They knew when we were planning to meet. It's not a huge leap to assume that they also knew why.

Who told them? It couldn't have been Gemma, unless she's the greatest liar on the continent. It couldn't have been Viola either. Even if she knew, it would have implicated Gemma, and there's no way that she would do anything to hurt her own flesh and blood. Sir Magis didn't know about Guylita, nor did Olly or Liliana.

Who else, then?

One possibility lingers in the back of my mind, whipping me with a silver rod against my back. If the invisibles knew that I attempted the spell to remove the blinders on them, then what if they simply let me believe that it worked? If they revealed their corporeal bodies only when convenient, then they could have tricked me into thinking that the spell worked. Hide when convenient and reveal when it's safe.

Oh, gods. If that's the case, then they could have been watching me this entire time. And if they heard me speaking to Gemma about Guylita, then she might also be in danger.

The scream welling up inside of me explodes into the air like thunder, scaring the birds into flight and bouncing off of the ocean's waves. It carries in the wind like a war horn echoing through the land. Loud and piercing.

When I snap my jaw shut and swallow the fury, I hear stifled laughter coming from behind. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I turn sharply toward the stairs, nearly jumping out of my skin when I see that I'm not alone. Olly is standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on his shoulder against the wall in a casual slant with his arms folded across his chest.

"Bad day?" He bites his bottom lip like he's holding back a smile.

I can't deal with his games today.

"Clearly." I wonder what part he played in all of this. Did he know about the spell I attempted to cast on the invisibles? Did he know about my plans to meet with Guylita? "When did you get back?"

"Just arrived with the invisibles. I saw you darting up the stairs like a mouse absconding with a block of cheese," he says playfully.

I want to tell him how angry I am for abandoning me before the ball. I want him to know how tired I am of every mind game. I want him to feel as confused and unworthy as he makes me feel. Instead, all I say is, "I am not in the mood for this."

"What has you in such tempest spirits?" An arrogant grin smears across his lips.

"Can you leave me alone for once?" When he doesn't move, I add a breathless, "Please?"

He stiffens, frowning. "Seriously, Radya. What's going on? You can talk to me."

"Can I?" I let out a dry laugh that rattles in my chest. "Because I don't think that I can trust anyone here."

And there it is—the real issue with all of this. I can't trust anyone here. Can I even trust myself? It seems that other people pay the price for my selfishness. Being near me comes at too great a cost.

All I wanted was to find some purpose. To see what the king and queen find to be so valuable when I am so clearly worth nothing. But that answer may linger forever. Unanswered and taunting.

He approaches me and grabs my hands, intertwining his fingers with mine, but the touch lacks any warmth. It feels tainted somehow, like whatever spark that existed between us has died. I pull my hand back to my side.

"What is this about? Please, Radya. Just let me in for a second." He genuinely looks pained as his brow wrinkles with confusion.

All of the pain, the hurt, the numbness, and the confusion ebb through my body like poison.

I shake my head and whisper, "I can't."

I hear Olly yelling my name as I wind down the spiral staircase, but his words roll off of my back.