“I am Malik Amaruk,” he said, wiping his face. “I am Navi’s brother—and a prince of Astavar.”
? ? ?
Later that afternoon, after Malik and his scouts had shared a proper meal with them, Eliana stood with Malik on the edge of a cliff overlooking the Narrow Sea. Across the black channel lay a line of white cliffs: Astavar—and freedom.
Eliana made herself look at it and imagine the fresh green country beyond the border, even though doing so opened old wounds in her heart.
Harkan, she thought, you should be here.
“So there are monsters on those boats,” Malik murmured. On the far horizon, black specks moved steadily west against the darkening sky. The Empire fleet.
“They’re called crawlers,” Eliana told him.
Down the coast, a small flotilla of Empire warships waited at the port of Skoszia. The faint shapes of adatrox bustled back and forth along the docks, moving supplies and weapons. Hanging high on the warships’ masts, the Emperor’s colors of black, red, and gold snapped in the wind.
The Emperor. Corien, Zahra had called him.
Eliana’s mouth thinned. That was not something she would allow herself to think about just yet. “So we have to make it across the sea without anyone on those ships seeing us.”
“Yes.” Malik pointed behind them, farther west along the coast. “There’s a small smuggler’s ship two miles away, in a small cove abandoned by the Empire. The ship crosses at nightfall, and its crew will take us with them. Simon and I arranged it before…” Again Malik glanced at her. “Well.”
“Before I abandoned him to save my own ass?”
“I wasn’t going to say it quite like that.”
“No need to hold your tongue around me, prince.” Eliana stared out at the water, trying not to remember Simon’s cries of pain. “I know what I’ve done.”
“I would’ve done the same, you know.”
“No need to comfort me either.”
Malik inclined his head. “Once we’re across, you’ll be taken to the capital. There are tunnels below the palace. My fathers will hide all of you there, and I’ll join the army at the beach.”
“To fight?” Eliana couldn’t hide the scorn in her voice.
Malik said mildly, “You think we can’t win.”
“I know you can’t.”
“And what should we do? Sit on the shores of our country and let the Empire slaughter us without raising a single sword?”
“Your people excel at sitting and not raising a single sword.”
Malik regarded Eliana calmly. “All of Astavar grieved with you the day Ventera fell.”
“Your grief means nothing to me.”
“We saved our own asses. Isn’t that how you said it? How are we so different, then?”
“Simon is a murderer. A soldier. He knew what he was getting into when he joined Red Crown. A country, though, is full of innocents.” Eliana glared at the sea. “Don’t try to compare yourself to me or your country to mine. You’ll come up short.”
“My lord!” A scout hurried up the cliffside path to whisper something in Malik’s ear.
Malik turned to Eliana, eyebrows raised. “It seems Simon is alive.”
The world beneath her feet floated away. “What? But Rahzavel—”
“Has taken him captive, apparently. They are on one of the warships bound for Astavar.”
“Which one?” When the scout hesitated, Eliana grabbed her arm. “Which one?”
“I can’t say,” the scout replied. “Our contact on the smuggler’s ship saw them board, but couldn’t recall which ship. They all look the same, he said.”
Eliana snorted. “And these are the people we’re entrusting our lives to?”
“Not many smugglers remain who dare to cross the Narrow Sea,” Malik pointed out. “We’re lucky we could find anyone at all.”
“What are you thinking, my queen?” Zahra murmured at Eliana’s ear.
Eliana stared hard at the ships down the coast.
“I’m thinking,” she said slowly, “that we won’t be going with the others when they leave.”
Zahra nodded. “You’re thinking we must save Simon.”
A warm wave of relief swept through Eliana’s body. “Yes.”
“Because you feel guilty for leaving him?”
Yes. Because not even he deserves death at Rahzavel’s hands. Because he gave his life to allow us escape.