“Sometimes you just need to hold on a little longer and the pain will be over. And you’ll be alive.” He put his drink down and took a step closer. “Don’t you ever make that choice.”
“Lorian—”
“Promise me.” His expression was intent.
This seemed to matter to him. I took a deep breath. “I promise.”
Thankfully, he appeared ready to change the subject. He turned and paced away. “You’re sure Farrow will help us?”
The fact that he said us made me feel slightly better about the situation. Especially after last night.
“Yes. He loves his daughter. He’ll betray the king to keep her alive.”
Lorian paused, clearly thinking over our options. Finally, he sighed.
“I’m looking for an amulet. It’s a blue stone set in silver with ancient writing etched into the back. That’s why I’m here.”
“You thought it would be in the king’s chamber.”
“Yes. I’m positive it’s in this castle somewhere. I’ve searched the libraries, Sabium’s chambers, and anywhere else it’s rumored to be.”
“Why can’t you kill the king?”
He raised one eyebrow. “Vicious thing.”
I scowled at him, and he flicked his gaze over me, lingering on my mouth. “It wasn’t an insult. I like it.” My stomach flipped, and I attempted to keep my expression bored. Thankfully, he continued his thought. “I can’t kill the king yet because I have other plans in motion, and if he were to die early, I wouldn’t be able to finish my tasks.”
“Because that’s not mysterious at all. Are you ever going to tell me who you are?” He wasn’t a prince. I knew that much. What I didn’t know was how he’d managed to convince the royals that he was.
One side of his mouth kicked up. “Yes. But not today.”
“Why not?”
Silence.
I sighed. “I’ll help you look for your amulet. If you help me with the prisoners.”
He studied me. “What’s your plan, Prisca?”
“Vicer said if we can get the prisoners out through the tunnel from the dungeon, he can have rebels meet us at the market. Vicer has been finding any mode of transportation that he can, so we can get the prisoners from the market to the city walls. If Farrow is serious about saving his daughter’s life, the guards will receive an order to stand down—just long enough for the rebels to get out. Farrow is respected enough that they’ll do what he says—at least for the few minutes we need.”
“The hybrids will be hunted.” His expression was blank, giving me no hint of what he thought about that strategy.
“Yes. But at least they’ll have a chance. They’re weakened, but they’ll travel in groups. Those who can’t make a long journey will be smuggled into various parts of the city—Vicer will help there. We’re hoping to find someone who can help with the blue marks. Besides, once they’ve been free for a few days, many of them will be able to use their powers again. They’ll fight to stay free.”
“And you?” His voice was quieter. Almost intimate.
I hadn’t yet thought about my next move. “I don’t know. We have to tell people that Sabium is the one who started the war with the fae. And that he’s the reason it continues.”
“No one will believe you until you have irrefutable proof. Even then, many will choose to ignore the facts.”
“Why?”
A languid shrug. “Their ancestors sent their sons to that war. Their brothers. Their cousins. All for them to die for the king’s greed. To believe it was all for nothing… Most people would prefer to never know the truth.”
Bitterness flooded my mouth. Because he was right. “How is Sabium storing the power? The chamber we saw only had a few stones in it, compared to how large this kingdom is. He must have a way to leach the power from those stones and use it himself.”
“He does. But it’s not in this castle. We’ve had those stones followed time and time again when they’re moved from the villages. Each time, the priestess disappears in various places.”
“He can’t be siphoning the power stone by stone.” It would take too long. This was a large kingdom.
Lorian nodded. “He’s using some kind of magical artifact or device.”
“If we were to destroy it, would the power return to the people it belongs to?”
“I don’t know.” Lorian frowned. “I would like to think so, but it could be that the power goes to the person closest to it.”