“Kiva,” he breathed again, his grip forcing the air from her lungs. But she didn’t complain, holding him just as fiercely, tears welling in her eyes.
This was the reunion she’d imagined. The reunion she’d longed for.
As her second-eldest sibling, Torell had been nearly ten the last time Kiva had seen him, a skinny little boy with perpetually scraped knees. There was nothing of that child in the young man who now towered over her, his black hair and piercing eyes complemented by a rich bronze tan, broad shoulders, and a hard body indicating years of careful discipline. With dark clothes and enough weapons to make Naari green with envy, everything about Tor screamed that he was a fighter, a warrior. It was enough for Kiva to know that he, like Zuleeka, had changed much in the last ten years.
“Gods, Kiva, you have no idea how much I missed you,” Tor said, using one hand to wipe her tears before tilting her chin and examining the bruise on her temple. His handsome features hardened as he asked in a lethal voice, “Who did this?”
“It’s just a little bump,” Zuleeka said dismissively, before Kiva could answer. “There was some trouble separating her from her friends, and with the festival being so crowded, things got out of hand. But look at her — she’s fine.”
As much as Kiva wanted to see the brutish Borin reprimanded, she sensed it was more important to talk her brother down, so she placed her hand over his on the unhurt side of her face and said, “Don’t worry, I’ve had worse.”
It was the wrong thing to say, his emerald eyes filling with shadows as he realized why — and where — she’d felt such pain.
His throat bobbed, the anger bleeding out of him as he whispered in a rough voice, “I almost had you.”
Seeing his anguish, Kiva uttered a confused, “Sorry?”
“We were so close,” he continued, his gaze unfocused, his mind a thousand miles away. “My best fighters were with me, all of us ready to do whatever it took to get you and Mother out.”
Kiva sucked in a breath, suddenly understanding.
“We were hiding in the mountains, taunting the Warden and his guards,” Torell went on. “We feigned a rescue, prompting him to double his sentries. It was a distraction, something to keep them busy so they wouldn’t notice our true intentions.”
Kiva remembered — she’d been walking through the refectory the night before her second Trial and had overheard a group of prisoners talking about the rebels’ failed rescue attempt. But . . . if Tor was saying it hadn’t failed, that it had just been an act . . .
“Everything was in place,” he said, sounding hollow now. “We were all set to strike, but then —”
“Then I sent an order for them to stand down,” Zuleeka interrupted. She eyed Kiva warily as if making a decision, then nodded to herself and shared, much more openly than before, “As general of the rebel forces, Tor has the same level of authority as I do, but since Mother named me interim commander before she left for Zalindov, it does no one any good to see us challenging each other. I left him little choice but to withdraw, even if he wasn’t happy about it.”
That seemed like an understatement, given the haunted look on Tor’s face.
“Did you say Mother left for Zalindov?” The word tasted strange on Kiva’s tongue, the implication that Tilda had willingly chosen imprisonment. “Wasn’t she — Wasn’t she captured? In Mirraven?”
Before anyone could reply, three loud knocks sounded on the ceiling above their heads, prompting dust and plaster to rain down on them.
“We’re running out of time,” Zuleeka said, brushing white speckles from her leathery clothes. “Seems your friends have better tracking skills than I anticipated.”
Kiva ignored the sneer in her tone — just as she ignored how it felt to know that Jaren and Naari were on their way. They hadn’t waited ten years to try and rescue her.
“You need to answer me,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I need to know —”
“There’s a lot you need to know,” Zuleeka said, and while the words were taunting, her face was serious. “But you’re going to have to wait.”
Tor sighed, giving Kiva’s shoulders a comforting squeeze. “Zulee’s right. I’ve heard about the company you keep these days — we need to be well and truly gone before they arrive.”
Kiva braced herself for more of the accusations Zuleeka had slung at her, but Torell only grinned and added, “Befriending the crown prince and his Golden Shield? Very clever. I can’t think of a more effective way to gain privileged information.”