Chapter 44

It’s a slow, tedious trip through the tunnel with only a few torches to light our way, Baze and I offering support to those in need of someone to lean on. A blow of wind whistles around the corners and lifts the hairs on the back of my neck, making the dark feel so dominating I’m certain it could crush us in a blink.

I steal a glance over my shoulder, into the prowling gloom that creeps after us, always remaining three steps behind.

I’m not sure how much time has passed since the ceremony, but it feels like too much. It feels like time is what’s whistling around the corners, urging me on like some whispered warning.

Murmurs come to me down the line, and I look ahead, seeing the crowd drift to one side like tipping water. My breath catches as Old Hattie hobbles into view, dressed in the same haggard clothes I saw her wearing last, her bandage still stained with blood and the filth it collected while she was hacking at the wall with a kitchen knife.

Her steps are unsteady, body crimped forward, insipid eyes cast ahead, like she’s seeing something we are not. Like she’s hooked on a line, being dragged forward one shuffled step at a time.

Her face is a twist of mournful agony that triggers something inside me. Makes that big dome rumble so loud I’m certain everybody can hear it …

She carries a dagger in one hand, the other shredding at her chest, fingers clawed and tendons taut; as though she’s trying to plow through and rip out her own heart.

“Hattie.” I reach out as she passes. “Hattie … We got them all.”

She doesn’t acknowledge me, her tragic gaze fixed ahead.

I take a step forward, fingers skimming across her hand. She pauses, looking down at the point of contact, then up into my eyes, hers igniting with a spark of recognition. A whimper slips out, and she cradles my cheek with her free hand, resting her forehead against mine.

“Come with us,” I whisper, and she pulls away, the tenderness in her gaze catching my breath.

She shakes her head, drifts back, and staggers on, the tangled trail of her silver hair the last I see of her before she disappears into the gloom like a dissolving apparition.

A mournful weight settles upon my chest, making the backs of my eyes sting. Because I just know—like some silent whisper nuzzling beneath my skin, nesting beneath my ribs with the other ghosts I’ve tucked away—that I’ll never see her again.

* * *

There’s a stillness about the palace as we file through the ornate hallways, past gilt wall sconces balancing candles almost burned down to the nub, taking a quiet route I preplanned because it’s devoid of servants at this hour.

Nobody makes a sound. Not even the younger ones huddled in the arms of others or trailing along with their fingers twisted into the hem of someone else’s clothes.

We reach a corridor on the main floor, one side lined with windows that take the rain’s lashing, the little pings creating a haunting melody to our quiet charge.

Bolts of light preface a clap of thunder somewhere in the distance. Baze snatches my shirt and shoves against my back as something shifts from the shadow behind a large urn.

My heart leaps into my throat, another flash revealing a small person stepping forward and pushing back his hood, a roguish smile splitting his face.

Zane.

“How did you get in here? And what the hell are you even doing here?” I hiss, wiggling free of Baze’s hold and wrapping my arms around Zane, stuffing my face into his hair. “It’s dangerous …”

He pulls back. “I got worried. Uncle said you were running late. And there was nothing in your note about …” he flashes a look at the others still moving down the hall, “them.”

I wince.

I couldn’t be too specific, just in case the note made it into the wrong pair of hands. I asked for the senka seed, set up the thieving of Cainon’s ship, and requested Gun pass a second note to Zali explaining the plan to get me out—that’s all I could risk.

“Found them on the way out,” I tell him, offering a soft smile before I nudge him forward. “Now let’s get you out of here.”

Poor Gunthar. He may not have noticed Zane’s missing, but if he has, he’s not going to be happy.

We reach the others at the door to the courtyard, bunched and shivering and glancing around nervously. I weave through the crowd, finding Kolden with his hand on the doorknob and a grim look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“There’s a large contingent of Gray Guards. The High Septum must still be this side of the bridge.”

“How many?” Baze asks from right behind me, gripping my upper arm like he thinks I’m about to burst through that door and do something stupid.

Seems his trust has flown out the window.

“Too many,” Kolden grinds out, flicking Baze a shaded look. “If somebody draws them away, I can get the gate open. Two palace guards will be on the other side of it—Jahk and Tier. Both good men with good morals, and one of them has a kid on the way. I’d like them to live.”

“Is there no other route to the pier?” Baze asks, and Kolden and I shake our heads, seconds ticking by like my racing heartbeats.

Shit.

“We could all climb down from Orlaith’s balcony? That’s how I got in.” Baze, Kolden, and I glare at Zane. “S’not that hard,” he boasts, pulling a plum from one of his many pockets, shining it on his cloak, and handing it to a kid beside him without even passing him a sideways glance. “Orlaith does it all the time. I’ve seen her from where I fish for squid off the rocks.”

I open my mouth, close it, Baze and Kolden now glaring at me. “Not all the time …”

“Most nights,” Zane clarifies, and I nudge him in the ribs.

Little snitch.

Kolden clears his throat. “The moment swords clash, more of the palace guards will storm in from all four corners. It’ll be a shit show. They’ll lock down the palace, lift the sea gate, and we’ll be sitting ducks.”

Silence stews, thick and cloying, and I can feel the heavy thump of Baze’s thoughts well before he utters them. “I’ll do it. Those Gray Guards have been pretty hungry for my blood since I set fire to their temple. I’d just have to wander in front of them, flash the burns on my back, and they’d chase me to the Shoaling Seas.”

My blood chills, guts cramp, eyes so wide I’m certain they’re going to pop out of my head as Kolden and Zane whisper-blurt, “That was you?”

Baze winks at Zane, who’s looking up at him with reverence—like he wants to be him when he grows up. Which is disturbing. He’s not an example of moral aptitude one should strive toward.

“You’re not doing it,” I bite out, punching Baze in the shoulder.

“Ow,” he says with a half laugh, rubbing the point of contact. “That actually hurt.”

Good. Who sets fire to a fucking temple in a city full of Shulák?

“Family sticks together,” I croak, regurgitating his words. I don’t want to leave him behind. Especially with the knowledge that he’s made so many powerful enemies in the short time he’s been here.

He sighs, dashing his hand up to run through hair that’s no longer there. It’s not the only thing that’s changed.

He’s still my Baze, but also … not.

I see it in the way he moves—not as fluid as he used to be. Like he’s less at peace with the skin keeping him contained. I see it in the tightness around his eyes and mouth, and the way his eyes go blank when he thinks nobody’s watching.

“I thought we would have more time,” I choke out.

“You’re acting like I’m about to walk to my doom here,” he scoffs. “That’s offensive. I know you kicked my ass on the beach but let’s keep things in perspective.” He swipes a tear from my cheek, cracking a smile that’s far too light for this moment. “I’ll do a little dance for them, make them sweat a bit, before I find somewhere to either kill them quietly or hide—preferably the former—then I’ll meet you at home. I have a few things I need to tick off my list first anyway. This is actually a convenience.”

I’m not sure why he’s painting me such a pretty picture. In my experience, some of the prettiest pictures tell the deadliest secrets.

I hate this. I don’t want this. But I can see it’s what he wants in the way the vein in his temple has pushed to the surface—the same way it usually does when he and I are about to spar and he gets that bounce in his step.

That gleam in his eye.

“You promise?”

“I fucking promise.” The words come out with such conviction they’re clipped with a growl.

I draw a shuddered breath, blow it out real slow. “I’ll … see you at home, then?”

Home.

I feel the word all the way to my bones. The pull to be back.

Baze whips me close for a hug that’s over too fast, then nudges past, ruffles Zane’s wet hair, and shoulder-shoves Kolden out of the way, the latter releasing a guttural grunt. He cracks the door and peeks through while my heart rages against its confines …

I feel like he’s just a dream I’m about to wake from. And I don’t want to.

Not yet.

“Baze?” I whisper-yell.

He looks at me over his shoulder, brow raised, the blazing light of a wall sconce glinting off his eyes.

“I love you.”

His features soften so much I see the dimple pucker his cheek.

For a moment he’s the Baze that lured me out from under the bed and told me not to cry. The one who made my first paintbrush, taught me how to write my name, and how to crochet my knapsack.

“I love you too, Laithy.”

Then he’s gone.

* * *

Kolden holds the door ajar until we hear the heavy pound of boots, the sound dispersing into a scuffing echo while my heart labors. While that dome inside me creaks and groans, like something’s trying to wrestle free.

He gives me a terse nod and pushes the door open.

I tuck Baze’s parting words inside my chest as we spill out into the quiet courtyard and creep around the inside edge, past blue-stone columns and golden urns. Kolden slips down the short archway that leads to the palace gate, and I hear the heavy grind of it lifting, then scuffing sounds. A baritone grunt.

Another.

A few moments later, he pops his head around the corner and ushers us forward.

I herd everybody down the tunnel, past two unconscious guards lumped against the wall. One by one, men, women, and children step through to the puddled grounds beyond, the shielded bowls of flaming oil giving off just enough light to guide our way.

A child has stopped, hands in the air as he reaches for raindrops tangling with his fingers, making my throat cramp with a swelling ache …

It’s the look of freedom—so pure and rich it could bring me to my knees.

Kolden leads us over the grass and around a hedge, then along a shadowed path that melds into stone steps that snake around the island. A sheer wall of choppy rocks lines our left, and a steep fall to our right meets the heaving sea below. The final sweeping stretch until we reach the ship visible in the distance every time another bolt of lightning cracks across the sky, a single blazing lantern hanging from its mast.

The sign that we’re safe to board.

It’s almost over …

Something warm swells within me as Zane and I take the rear, the rest of the party keeping a brisk pace. Like they can taste the sweetness of their impending freedom on the rising winds.

Another crackle of lightning scribbles across the sky, uncomfortably close, almost like it’s reaching for us. Some of the children scream, a blast of wind battering us so hard it hits with a burst of seaspray ripped off the roiling ocean, salting my lips.

“It’s going to be a rough trip out of the bay!” Zane yells, his cape billowing in his wake. “Good thing Uncle knows the waters so well or we’ll all be shark chow!”

By the light of another lightning strike, I watch his cloak break free from around his neck, then flutter over my head. He slams to a stop and spins, dashing after it.

My heart lurches, as if trying to punch free of my ribs and chase him.

“Zane!”

Fuck.

I hand my wooden sword and knapsack to one of the men ahead of us, then sprint after Zane, the clip in my hair falling victim to another violent gust of wind. “Leave it,” I yell over the howling gale, watching the cloak tumble through the air until it tangles with the corpse of a small, gnarled tree partway up the bank, hanging off its spindly branches. “I’ll get you another. Come on!”

He stops at the base of the bank, looking between me and the cloak before he clambers onto the rain-slicked rocks and begins to climb.

“Shit,” I mutter, glancing back at our group now stretching down the pier’s length, some scaling across the unsteady gangplank.

I come to a stop beneath the tree, the sodden cloak flapping in the wind. “Zane, please. We don’t have time.”

“I’ve almost got it!” he belts out, gripping hold of the tree, leaning forward, trying to bend the branch enough so he can flick his cloak free. He finally manages to snatch it—

The branch snaps.

Zane plummets, screaming.

I lunge to buffer his fall, and we thud to the ground in a tangle, my head thwacking against the stone, skull-splitting pain throbbing to agonizing life.

“Are you … okay?” I grind out.

He groans, climbing off me. “Yeah. Got my cloak, I’m good. What about yo—”

A blaring horn sounds above the howling wind, followed by a boom that rattles my bones. A single bright seed shoots up into the bulbous clouds, turning them blood red when it bursts with such violence the entire sky seems to shake.

Dread drops into my stomach like a boulder, some innate intuition flaring to life.

Cainon’s awake.

That voice inside screams louder than it ever has before …

“Run.” I roll to my side and nudge Zane to his feet, scrambling after him. “Run!”

We explode into action, feet slapping against the wet stone.We hurry down the steep stairs, then launch onto the pier, and another bolt of lightning ignites the churning waves splashing up the sides, dousing the planks in a foamy residue.

The pier is empty aside from us, the ship churning with the ocean’s heavy rise and fall. Kolden is standing on deck, next to the gangplank, yelling words I can’t make out over the roaring wind. But when the deep vibrato of clanking chains rattles across the bay, even the wind seems to pause.

To listen.

They’re lifting the sea gate.

Fuck.

“Push off!” I scream through the icy torrent of rain battering my face, waving. “We’ll jump!”

Kolden seems to hesitate, and I think I hear a woman shriek before the gangplank is raised.

A streak of lightning rips across the sky as the ship begins to crack away. “Faster, Zane!”

For a battering moment, the rain becomes a sheet of white, drumming upon the pier, smearing my sight of everything. But I sense we’re getting close.

Almost there.

“We’re going to have to jump, okay?” I reach for him. “Take my hand, we’ll do it together!”

No answer.

I look to my side—

There’s nothing but the rain and the wooden poles and the churning sea clawing at the pier.

I spin, pulse scattering at the sight of Zane pinned to the ground beneath the boot of an armored guard, cheek flat against the wood, eyes wide and wild.

Scared.