Zahra had found Semyaza.
Eliana hefted Navi back to her feet and slapped her across the face. Her drug-clouded eyes snapped open, and Eliana was pleased to see a spark of anger inside them.
“We have to run, now,” Eliana told her, “or we’ll die.”
Navi nodded, set her jaw.
“Hold on to me.” Eliana turned, Navi’s arm once more slung around her shoulders, and ran into the yard. Beside her, Navi’s breathing came labored and thin. In the bedlam of dust and shouting soldiers, no one saw them—until they had almost reached the abandoned eastern gate.
A Fidelia soldier jumped down from the gate’s watchtower, a crude revolver in hand and a belt of ammunition strapped to his torso.
Eliana skidded to a halt.
The Fidelia soldier smiled kindly.
“There, now, lambs,” he said, gesturing with his gun, “you’ve gotten turned around in all this ruckus.”
Eliana watched him approach, saw him glance at the knives she had strapped to her body. His gaze hardened; his smile remained.
“Poor lambs.” His gun still pointed at Eliana’s chest, he brushed a lock of matted hair out of her eyes and clucked his tongue. “So lost, so young.”
A shift in the darkness behind him was Eliana’s cue. She lowered her eyes to the ground, nodded forlornly.
“We didn’t mean to do wrong,” she whispered—and then heard the familiar sound of Arabeth finding a home in someone’s heart.
She looked up as the Fidelia soldier grunted, gaped down at Arabeth’s jagged blade protruding from his chest, coughed up a pool of dark blood.
Behind him stood the Wolf, mask in place.
Eliana’s exhausted body nearly buckled with relief. Despite everything, she said, “Thank you.”
Simon wiped Arabeth clean on his cloak and handed it to her. “I’ll trade you.”
Eliana complied, shifting Navi into Simon’s arms. They hurried together out of the yard and into the night, down a rocky slope cluttered with flat pale stones that crumbled underfoot.
“Remy?” she asked.
“Safe and hidden.” Simon’s mask glinted, moon-colored. “We’re going to him now.”
And when we get there, Eliana thought, tightening her grip on Arabeth as she ran, we will speak alone, with my blade at your throat.
41
Rielle
“No one can be sure of Audric the Lightbringer’s last words, but in the days before the Fall, whispers traveled fast across the world. His last words, the whispers said, were for his murderer: ‘I love you, Rielle.’”
—The Last Days of the Golden King author unknown
Three days. Rielle dragged herself up to her rooms long after the sun had set. Three days until the fire trial.
And then…what?
“My lady,” chided Evyline from the door, “you really must try to get more sleep, at least until the trials are over.”
“You’re right, Evyline,” Rielle replied. “It’s only that when you’re soon to be thrown into a death pit of flames, you find yourself wanting to study your prayers as much as you can.”
“Prayers are well and good, my lady, but sleep is better. You can neither pray nor fight fire if you’re exhausted.”
Rielle, yawning, untied her braid and shook her hair free. “I’m inclined to agree. My father, however, is not.”
After checking to make sure Atheria had taken her usual nighttime post on the terrace, Rielle stumbled into her bathing rooms.
And froze, suddenly and wholly awake.
Audric sat on a settee by the far window. His hair was a mess of curls, as though he’d been running his fingers through it for hours. He stood to face her, hands clenched at his sides.
He gave her a tight smile. “Hello,” he said quietly.
Rielle stepped back into her bedroom. “Evyline,” she called over her shoulder, “I hope you don’t mind, but I wonder if you might give me some time alone.”
“My lady, it isn’t safe—”
“I’m quite safe with Atheria on my terrace.”
As if on cue, the chavaile snorted from beyond the curtains.
“Grant me this wish, would you please?”
“Just tonight,” Evyline said sternly, after a moment. “The least I can do, I suppose, after everything you’ve been through.”
“That’s right.” Rielle ushered her out as kindly as she could manage. “Good night, Evyline, and thank you for your vigilance.”
“Of course, my lady.”
Rielle shut the door, locked it, took a breath to brace herself. When she turned around, Audric was standing in the middle of the room, looking rather abashed.