“Last time some of our people tried to take you, they weren’t prepared, but today things are different,” the pale man said with a dark grin. “Even so, it could be a while before your handsome prince discovers you’re missing, so if you want to keep that face pretty for him, you’ll hold your tongue. Once he and his guards arrive, we’ll have our own party. It won’t be a masquerade, but it’ll be just as unforgettable.”
You’re just very tasty bait for a much larger fish.
Caldon had been right all along, Kiva realized. King Navok had sent his people to capture her after the River Festival, for this very same purpose — to lure the crown prince. They knew how much she meant to Jaren; they knew he’d come for her.
Caramor and Mirraven are frothing at the bit to launch an invasion, waiting for the slightest hint of weakness.
Kiva was Jaren’s weakness.
The pale man’s grin widened as he saw understanding flood her face. “Mirraven has big plans for Evalon,” he declared. “Today we’ll be offering a taste of what’s to come.”
Kiva shut her eyes as if it would help block out the words.
She should have kept them open.
Because if she had, she would have seen the hand reaching for her face, the approach of the pungent cloth that slammed over her mouth again, right before the tattooed man said, “This’ll help pass the time. Sweet dreams, girlie.”
“Wake up, Kiva!”
A hand was tapping Kiva’s face, and she groaned, wanting to shove it away, but her arms were still bound behind her.
“Good. Now open your eyes.”
Kiva groaned again, recognizing Rhessinda’s insistent voice pulling her from her unnatural sleep. A renewed surge of queasiness had her fighting the urge to vomit all over again.
Coughing and gagging once more, Kiva opened her eyes to find she was still in the warehouse, but the sunlight filtering through the windows was much weaker than before, the shadows across the ground longer, indicating it was now late afternoon. Combined with her time spent at Silverthorn, Kiva had been gone for hours, but with the plans for the masquerade in full swing, it was entirely possible that no one yet knew she was missing. That Jaren didn’t yet know she was missing.
Casting her gaze to one side, she saw that Tipp was still unconscious, but in a different position, as if he’d woken and fallen back under again. On her other side, Rhessinda was kneeling next to her, the healer’s wrists bloodied after having torn her way out of her bindings. She immediately shifted to start working Kiva free of her own ropes.
“Who are you?” Kiva mumbled, her numb fingers tingling painfully as Rhess plucked at her wrists. Despite being knocked out again, she hadn’t forgotten what had happened with the burly men, nor Rhess’s reaction — or lack thereof — when learning about her family.
“You know who I am. I’m Rhessinda Lorin.”
“I didn’t ask your name,” Kiva said. “Who are you?”
This time, Rhess didn’t try to avoid the question. “I’m Torell’s second.”
Kiva’s mind blanked. “You’re what?”
“His second,” Rhess repeated. “As in, second in command. Of the rebel forces.”
“I know what second means,” Kiva hissed, struggling to process this news. “But — But you’re a healer! A Silverthorn healer!”
Rhess shook her head. “That was just my cover. Tor wanted you to have someone nearby in case something happened, and since we knew you’d be tempted by the healing academy, it made sense to send me in undercover. My parents were healers, like I told you, and I sometimes help the rebel medics, so I had the best chance of maintaining the guise.” She paused. “After Zuleeka’s abduction, it was simple enough for me to steal some robes and intercept the message from the palace. Dressed like that, I only had to show the royal summons to the guards and they let me right through the gates. It was all too easy to get to you, cementing a position in your life almost as soon as we learned that you’d arrived in the city.”
Kiva thought back over every interaction she’d had with Rhessinda, wondering why she’d never suspected anything to be amiss. Even yesterday, when no one at Silverthorn had heard of her. Hell, even last week, the Matron Healer herself hadn’t recognized Rhess’s name. And —
I’m here every day for the morning shift.
Whenever Kiva had found Rhess, she’d been waiting for her. Just sitting on that same bench in the sanctuary, a coincidence Kiva had never bothered to consider, always too happy to have found her friend to question why she wasn’t working. Never mind how she’d conveniently offered up herself as a tour guide to Oakhollow, and — gods — she’d even seen the magic burst out of Kiva and had said nothing.