“I tried,” he said. “The king’s spies learned that I had asked about the woman who’d tripped near the queen, and they reported back to him. If anything, I hastened her death.”
Fresh tears flooded my eyes, and Lorian sighed. “I’d tell you not to blame yourself, but both of us know it wouldn’t help. If you want to blame anyone, blame me.”
A group of women walked past the door, laughing and gossiping. How could they act like nothing had happened when an innocent woman had lost her life?
Because she was corrupt. Just like me.
“Why are you really here, Lorian?”
His face closed off. In a swift movement, he clutched me to him once more so he could stand, dragging me to my feet. “Because the king took everything from my family. And now I’m going to take everything from him.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
I didn’t see Lorian at all for the next two days. The queen insisted on taking her meals in her chambers, and I was still staying quiet in an attempt to learn everything I could.
I became very good at slipping around the castle unseen. I’d learned just why the servants’ halls were so important. Not only did they allow them to be mostly unseen…
But they also allowed them to spy.
Tiny holes had been carved into various parts of the hall. Small enough that most wouldn’t notice. No one mentioned it, but I’d spotted a maid leaning against a door just yesterday. She’d cast me an unconcerned look when I strolled past.
Each night, we visited Asinia. And each night, she looked worse. Tonight, the dungeon seemed even colder than it had been. I was sitting next to Asinia, who was still mostly unconscious. Tibris’s expression was grim.
“What is it?”
The corners of his eyes tightened. “She needs medicine. I can keep healing the worst of it, but each time I go back, she’s just as bad. If we don’t get her help, she’ll be dead within days.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. I’d already let one person die. The thought of Wila’s screams would haunt me for the rest of my life. Pushing Asinia’s hair off her head, I leaned down.
“I won’t let that happen,” I whispered in her ear. “I promise.”
In the cage next to us, Demos watched quietly. Since we’d been bringing him food and he was no longer eating the slop contaminated with fae iron, he seemed more alert. Tibris had been slowly healing his wound each night.
“There must be healers in this castle,” I said. “For the king. Tell me what you need, and I’ll find it.”
Tibris described a blue liquid that would likely be in a small jar. It would help Asinia fight off the sickness and allow her body to rest and recover.
“I’ll find it.” I no longer cared what I would need to do to get what we needed. This was war. And so far, we were losing.
“I need to work on her some more,” Tibris murmured. He was already ashen, but I nodded, stepping out of the cage.
I drifted from cage to cage, taking in the slumped forms in each. Most of the prisoners could do little more than blink at me. But there were some who hadn’t been here as long. While they were weakened, they could still communicate. And they told me their stories in voices hoarse from disuse.
Many of the tales were similar, and yet all were heartbreaking.
A man named Dashiel told me of the day his brother Thayer had used his magic.
The power of nightmares.
At just eleven winters, Thayer had been suppressing his power his whole life. But when the king’s assessor appeared in the village with no warning, Thayer had erupted.
Half of the village had turned crazed.
The assessor had been traveling with a shield-guard, who’d raised a magical buffer around him.
“He didn’t mean to do it,” Dashiel said, his eyes wet as he slumped against the bars of his cage. “He was just scared. I should have taught him. But I was terrified someone would learn of what we were doing. Instead, I got him killed.”
My own eyes burned at the hopelessness on his face. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Dashiel just shook his head and continued talking in that low, grief-stricken voice. Like most of us hybrids, Thayer had been actively fighting his power. So he didn’t know how to tamp down his power once he started using it. Half of his village was turned into little more than ghosts, unable to work.
“When…when he saw what he had done to our family, our friends… I couldn’t get to him. I couldn’t get to my brother. He took the knife on his belt and slit his own throat.”