I would hide here in the city if I had to. As long as I could crawl into an alley somewhere to rest, I could get back to the—
“The slums are burning!” Screams sounded as we tore through the streets. My horse reared, pawing at the air as someone darted in front, a bucket of water in his hand. I slid, almost losing my seat. “You can’t go that way,” he shouted. “Someone lit a building on fire.”
“Which building?”
“The old orphanage.”
Nausea swept through me in a wave. Madinia’s eyes met mine. “The rebels,” she said. “That’s their building, isn’t it?”
Yes. And it was no coincidence that it was burning. “We need to get there.”
“It’s too late. If the king ordered it destroyed, it will be heavily guarded.”
“I can’t just leave them there!”
“They might have gotten out.”
My mind provided me images of Margie, trapped in her kitchen—of the others, burning to death in their common room.
No. No, no, no. We had to go back.
Someone grabbed Madinia’s reins. We were both dressed in finery, riding the king’s best horses on the outskirts of the slums. That made us targets. I yanked the thread of time toward me, leaned over, and ripped the reins from his hand.
Time resumed before I could do much more.
The man choked out a scream, turning to flee. I wavered on the horse, all sound dimming. Then we were moving once more. “Stop,” I croaked out.
“You’re about to pass out,” Madinia snarled. “Just hold on.”
She’d taken my reins, spurring my horse on. I buried my hands in the horse’s mane and clutched tightly as Madinia took over our escape.
I had a bad feeling.
If the king had been in the castle, he would have been summoned by all the screaming.
That meant that he was at the city walls.
Madinia whirled as we cantered down a side street, only to find the next street we needed was blocked. For someone who spent most of her time in the castle, she’d managed to memorize plenty of routes to the city walls. Time and time again, we reached streets that were blocked, and she was able to take us in a new direction, until the city gates finally came into sight. My horse broke into a gallop with no encouragement from me, and the click-clack of hooves on stone was the only sound for the next few moments. I swayed once more, forcing myself to bend low, almost hugging the horse.
Sabium would be waiting at those walls. Where everyone I loved was gathered in one place.
I crouched in the saddle, my heart beating hard enough to crack my ribs.
We hurtled through the gates and into chaos.
The world narrowed, but I saw everything with my next breath.
The king, surrounded by guards, Farrow kneeling at his feet. Strange, tall women who looked like they were made of stone, standing behind the king. Lorian, fifty foot-spans away, positioned shoulder-to-shoulder with the other mercenaries. My brothers—both of them—flanking Asinia. Three hundred other prisoners positioned behind them, all of them standing next to their carriages with their hands in the air.
Among them were Vicer, Margie, and some of the other rebels.
I turned my attention back to the king.
Farrow’s eyes met mine, and then his gaze slid to Madinia’s, wide and filled with sorrow.
“Please,” Madinia choked out, and the king smiled.
With the swing of his guard’s sword, Farrow’s head rolled to the ground.
Madinia screamed and screamed.
I was out of energy. Out of magic. Out of everything. But I snatched my reins from Madinia’s hands, turned my horse, and galloped across the wide expanse in front of the city. Toward Lorian.
“Aim!” the king shouted, and I felt hundreds of arrows turned on me. Any moment now, they would fire, and if I was lucky, I would die instantly. If I wasn’t, I would be pierced through, forced to choke on my last breaths.
Lorian roared my name. It was a sound that seemed to be ripped from his soul.
All I could see was his face. All I could feel was the amulet I ripped from my neck, the stone heating up in my hand. All I could hear was Sabium laughing, that rough chuckle I’d always loathed.
But the king’s laugh was drowned out by the memory of Lorian’s voice in my head. Of our vow. “None of your prisoners will live unless you give me that amulet.”
I lifted my hand. Lorian’s eyes blazed into mine.
The amulet seemed to suck in the light. Behind me, the king’s laughter turned to a wrathful scream.
I threw the amulet toward Lorian with everything I had, hunching my shoulders against the pain I knew would encompass my final moments.