Eager to tame the unwilling ones.
The door opened again, and Maris appeared, Angeline behind her. As soon as Maris saw Nomi, her face crumpled.
Nomi hugged her, panic wrapping sharp claws around her throat. “How are you here?”
Anguish flashed across Maris’s face. “We were captured. All of us from Mount Ruin. They’re all stuck in a cell in some sort of dungeon. Asa noticed me and brought me here. Said this is where I belong.” Her mouth twisted. “He saw me with Helena.… I think he did it because of that. He wants to torture me.”
Nomi wondered how many shards of her heart were left to shatter. “Serina, is she… Maris—”
“She’s alive. I don’t think he recognized her. But it doesn’t matter.” Maris dropped her gaze to her dirty boots. “He is going to execute them all.”
The words echoed in Nomi’s mind.
Rage filled her veins, burned through her chest, set her pulse to pounding in her temples. She grabbed her cloak and started for the door. “No, he isn’t.”
“Nomi, what are you—” Maris started.
Someone knocked on the door. Nomi froze, her hand on the knob.
“Hurry,” Angeline hissed. She doused the light and pushed Nomi, Maris, and Cassia into the washroom. They hid, holding their breath, listening to the muffled voices in the bedroom. Only a few seconds passed before Angeline opened the washroom door.
“Ines says we’re all to get dressed.” A deep furrow dug its way down the center of her forehead. “The Superior has ordered his Graces to observe the execution at dawn. We must dress and be ready to go.”
Nomi muffled a scream with both hands. There was no time. No time to kill Asa, no time to search for Serina. But she couldn’t just let her sister die.
What was she going to do?
“I don’t want to watch anyone die,” Ria said as Angeline helped her into a soft pink dress with ribbon accents. Her voice choked on unshed tears. “Why do we have to go?”
“The Superior demands it,” Angeline said in a broken whisper.
Cassia left to go to her own room to dress, but Maris stayed. She sat at the dressing table and stared at her reflection with the vacant, hopeless look of someone who has lost everything. Nomi had seen that look on her face before, after Malachi had chosen them as Graces. All her time in the palazzo, Maris had been locked in the grief of not knowing what had happened to Helena.
Today, the woman she loved would die.
“I’m going too. There may be something—something I can do,” Nomi murmured. “If I can get close to Asa… if I can just…” The words caught like sand in her throat. She’d come so far. It couldn’t end this way.
“But someone will see you—” Angeline started.
“I’ll be careful. I need… I need…” I need to kill him. I need to save Serina. “I need a dress. Please, Angeline.”
Angeline found Nomi a dress. Nomi took the soft gray gown and went to the washroom to change. The skirt was long enough to mostly hide her boots. She wouldn’t have minded a different pair of shoes, one that fit better, but these provided a good hiding place for her knife, and she wasn’t about to give that up. She drew it out and stared at the thin jagged blade.
This is yours, Asa, she thought. You deserve it.
TWENTY-NINE
SERINA
EMBER WAS WAITING by the door when the soldiers came for her.
“Let’s go,” one of them said, yanking on her arm. She stood, immovable as a mountain, until he released her. Before he could hit her or shove her into submission, she moved forward steadily, her chin held high.
Serina prayed that when it was her turn, she could face it with Ember’s brave serenity, but she was fairly certain she’d be screaming.
“You all are coming too,” the guard growled. “And don’t try anything. We’ll kill you if you do, Superior’s orders.”
Serina followed Ember out of the room, Val beside her. He moved stiffly, his face bruised and swollen.
A long line of women unspooled behind them. She wondered how many of them were left. One hundred? How many days would Asa last before he got impatient and killed more than one of them at a time?
They climbed the slick dark stairs and moved into a lovely mosaic-floored walkway, and then out into the sun.
The morning was so bright it stung Serina’s eyes. Everything looked bleached out, faded, not quite real. The soldiers led them to the front of the palazzo. Across the canal, a crowd stood in silence, shoulder to shoulder.
Serina was grateful they didn’t cheer. Maybe they would when the deed was done.
She wormed her way to Ember’s side. She reached for Ember’s hands. Every cell of Serina’s body screamed out in horror at this injustice. At the waste, the agony of this moment.
“Let me do this,” Serina begged, the words ragged. “Please.”
“I think you’re right, Grace,” Ember said, with a tiny, tired smile. Her hands were warm and solid in Serina’s. “I think Oracle is waiting for me.”
Serina tightened her grip, held her hands, until the moment she was torn away.
A guard stopped in front of Serina, his big body blocking the crowd. “Halt,” he ordered.
Serina spit in his face. She expected him to hit her, but he didn’t move.
Another soldier led Ember to a wall near the grand staircase. Her boots sank into a patch of soft green grass. They turned her so she faced the crowd, her back to the wall.
Above her, at the top of the stairs, Asa appeared. Even from this distance, Serina could see his sharp-edged smile.
He raised his arms in a welcoming gesture to the crowd. After a moment, a smattering of applause filled the air. It died quickly.
“Good morning to you all,” he said. “The group of women you see before you has committed grievous crimes against our great country. I know my father had certain… qualms… about the execution of women, but it is vastly important to me that we hold these women accountable for their actions. Their brazen disregard for the norms and laws of Viridia cannot—will not—be tolerated. Today, the leader of this group will pay the ultimate price. She has committed treason, and she shall die for it. The rest of these women will pay, one a day, one death at a time.”
Treason.
Serina choked on her own sobs. She didn’t know what to do, but she had to do something. She had to.
He stopped speaking. Gave the signal to his soldiers.
And Serina sang.
Fire, breathe
Water, burn
Terror, wane
Your reign is over.
Gunshots ripped through the air. She closed her eyes.
Fire, breathe
Water, burn
Stars, lead the way
Your sister is here.
THIRTY
NOMI
NOMI COULDN’T GET close to Asa. She tried to hang back as the Graces were led down the hall, looked for ways to slip away as they filed out onto the terrace, eyed the male servants as they corralled the women outside. There was no opportunity to run.
She was pushed out onto the balcony by the press of bodies, hidden among the Graces. Safe from recognition but rendered utterly useless. Helpless.
Asa stepped out onto the head of the palazzo stairs. Too far away to try to throw her knife.
He spoke of treason, of daily executions. He said the leader of the rebellion would die today.
Oh, Serina.
Nomi couldn’t keep herself together, she couldn’t breathe, she was going to scream—
In the grass before the palazzo, the soldiers lined a woman up against a stone wall near the grand staircase. She stood steadily, her red hair bright in the sun.
Bright red hair.
It wasn’t Serina.
The women of Mount Ruin and the crowds in the piazza were deathly silent.
Nomi’s heart shuddered in her chest. Relief and shame filled her in equal measure. Serina wouldn’t die today. But that woman would. Somehow, she’d
taken Serina’s place.
Asa gave a signal.
And then one single, shaking voice began to sing.
Nomi knew that voice. It had sung her the lullabies that had soothed her throughout childhood. It had told her stories. It had admonished her when she rebelled.
And not too long ago, it had called for a vote.
More voices joined Serina’s, but they couldn’t drown out the gunshots, sharp cracks that tore the morning in two.
The red-haired figure jerked like a marionette, and then, strings snapped, she fell.
The women sang on, loud as cathedral bells.
Nomi didn’t make a sound. The hurricane raging inside her was too big—if she screamed, she’d never be able to stop.
One thought kept her from breaking apart.
Tonight. Asa would die tonight.
THIRTY-ONE
SERINA
SERINA HAD NEVER wanted anything more in all her life than to see Asa suffer. She wanted his country torn from him. His life torn from him. Nomi was right. He was so, so much worse than his father.
Serina shuffled through the hallways back to the dungeon, surrounded by dead-eyed women. Val held her hand, their shackles clanking together. If they hadn’t been chained, Serina would have told everyone to fight… firearms or not, her women could have overwhelmed the guards. And if not, well, they were all slated to die anyway. Why drag it out?
Serina stared straight ahead, images of Asa being flayed alive playing on a loop in her mind. She killed him over and over again in a hundred different ways. She had no power here, no hope for her own life, but she could still control her thoughts. And, in her thoughts, she eviscerated him.
The man himself was waiting by the door of their prison. He smiled mildly as the women shuffled into the room, and Serina could see a hint of the manipulator who had so fooled her sister. He looked kind, earnest even. And yet he had just ordered Ember killed.
As Serina passed him, she spit at his feet.
He held up a hand, and one of the soldiers stopped her, shoving Val into the already crowded room.
Asa looked Serina up and down.
“Ah,” he said. “Of course. You’re Nomi’s sister.”
“And you’re a murderer,” she growled. “You’re a fraud, a traitor, a liar, and a—”
“And you’re next,” he said, cutting her off. He didn’t raise his voice, but color had come to his cheeks, staining them red. “Tomorrow morning, it’s your turn, Serina. Your family is waiting for you.”
A cold wind blew through her, clearing out every thought. Her chin jutted forward. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He just smiled.
Serina swung her shackled hands at his face with all the force of her hate. His head whipped back, and blood spurted along his cheekbone. He shouted.
An animal roar exploded from her throat. She lunged at him again. Rage overwhelmed every other thought, every other feeling. She would kill him, here and now.
One of the guards struck her across the face, driving her back. The roiling mass of women, packed tight into the hallway, shifted and surged, and for a moment, Serina thought they might stage a revolt after all. But the guards started hitting them with their weapons, shoving and pushing until everyone was squeezed back into the dank hole of the dungeon, the wave taking Serina with them.
She lifted her heavy hands to her face and the swollen, sore place there.
“Are you okay?” Val asked, pushing through the crowd to reach her.
She leaned her forehead into his chest, her anger spent. Now she was just tired. So tired.
“He’s chosen me for tomorrow,” she said softly. It was too difficult to repeat what he’d said about her family. Her parents, Renzo…
But Asa had thought Nomi was here, with the women of Mount Ruin. Maybe… maybe Nomi had escaped. Maybe her sister would survive.
The day passed slowly, mostly in silence. Everyone had told their stories the night before. Serina spent her final hours pressed into Val’s side, their hands clasped tightly together. He tried to talk to her once or twice, but she didn’t have the heart for it.
“Don’t let me haunt you” was all she said. “Promise me.”
He pressed his face into her shoulder, the wet of his tears soaking through the thin fabric of her shirt.
A guard brought more buckets of water and a couple dozen small loaves of bread. Twenty-four rolls for one hundred bodies. Serina didn’t eat. Why, when she wouldn’t need the nutrients for much longer? Val didn’t take one either, even after she begged him to.
Some of the girls fell asleep. Some cried in their dreams. Helena drummed a foot against the floor and twisted her hands into her stomach. No one had seen Maris at the execution. The soldiers hadn’t returned her to the dungeon. “She’s probably with the other Graces,” Serina offered, but Helena didn’t find comfort in the thought.
Serina wasn’t much comforted either.
“Do you think Malachi will be able to fix all this?” Serina asked.
“Not this,” Val said. “But maybe Viridia, in time.”
“Nomi will help him. She’ll make sure he remembers us.” Serina let her eyelids droop closed. Her head swam. She felt untethered, as if part of her had already left her body and was drifting, ready to leave all this behind. But a deep, heavy pit in her stomach told her the panic was only lying in wait. That she wasn’t as accepting as her body would like her to believe.
“Nomi will make sure,” Val agreed.
“She’ll be sad,” Serina said faintly as she drifted. “We were supposed to save each other.…”
Hours, her last hours, passed too quickly and too slowly all at once.
THIRTY-TWO
NOMI
NOMI SPENT THE day feeling as if she were about to climb out of her skin. She hid in her old room, running through her plan over and over. It was simple. Wait until late at night, sneak into Asa’s room, kill him in his bed. Just as she’d hoped to do the night before. Except this time, no matter what she heard, she wouldn’t hesitate.
By some miracle, she’d not been noticed by Ines or any of the guards during the execution, but she couldn’t take the chance again. So she was trapped in this room, trapped by the daylight. She prayed for the sun to move more quickly through the sky, for the world to plunge into darkness.
For a few groggy hours, she curled up on Ria’s bed by the window and slept, driven awake again and again by nightmares.
Late in the afternoon, Angeline brought Nomi some food. Cassia and Maris followed her into the room, their faces shadowed with worry.
“I want to know what’s happening.” Cassia sank to the edge of Ria’s bed. “Why did Malachi kill his father and leave us with his vile brother? Do you know, Nomi?”
Ria had spent most of the morning being fitted for gowns. Now she lay stretched out on her back, staring at the ceiling, her small body barely denting the coverlet.
“Malachi didn’t kill his father,” Nomi replied. “Asa did. He framed Malachi for the crime, then stabbed him and sent him to Mount Ruin to die. He used me in his machinations, and then he made me disappear so I couldn’t tell anyone what I saw.”
“And he sent me away to die too,” Maris added. “Because I saw what he did.”
“But none of us died,” Nomi said. “Not yet anyway. Malachi is gathering troops and will take his rightful place as the Superior soon. And Asa will die tonight.” She got up and paced again, ignoring the food Angeline pressed upon her.
Cassia cast her gaze to the floor. “Your story sounds like the sort of thing that should surprise me, but it doesn’t.” She looked up, her mouth pinched into a straight line. “The new Superior is cruel. I never expected this palazzo to feel like a prison.”
Nomi had always seen it that way. But there were, she was learning, different degrees of captivity.
Ria drew her limbs together, curling herself into a ball. As if she could protect herself from these revelations, or from Asa himself. “I just
want to go home,” she whispered.
“There’s a secret passage,” Nomi said. “In the hall that leads to the bathing pool. Count ten panels down on the left, behind a fern. It leads to a bakery on the other side of the canal. If I fail… if Malachi doesn’t come, sneak out of here and go home. Get as many of the girls out as you can.”
Ria’s eyes widened. Cassia ran her hands through her hair.
Angeline pushed a pastry into Nomi’s hands. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
By twilight, Nomi had taken to staring out the window. She watched the excruciatingly slow sunset as the last streaks of pink faded to a dark, inky blue.
Cassia and Maris had gone back to their rooms.
Ria sat at the dressing table, her hands quiet in her lap. She looked so young, her limbs too long, her face still round and soft. Asa hadn’t demanded her presence yet, but she lived in fear. Nomi could see it in the hunch of her shoulders, the way she hid behind her reddish-blond hair, just like Maris used to.
“Is it time for you to go?” Ria asked, looking toward the darkening sky.
“Not for a while.” Nomi climbed down from the high cloud-like bed. She wished she’d been able to sleep more. At least the food Angeline had forced upon her had revived her. She would need all her strength tonight.
She used the washroom and changed back into her prison clothes. The pants gave her more range of motion and made her feel closer to Serina. Next she put on Renzo’s cloak. It would help her blend into the darkness.
She wished she could search the dungeons for Serina, but the best she could do for her sister right now was kill Asa. And who knew? Maybe she wouldn’t be killed by Asa’s men right away. Nomi would try to find the dungeon after the deed was done, if she could.
But she didn’t expect to leave Asa’s room alive.
She checked the knife in her boot. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her cloak and found the sharpened pencil and small journal she’d bought in Bellaqua. She left the writing tools there. They were a strange comfort, a reminder that she knew more than she was supposed to.
Queen of Ruin (Grace and Fury) Page 21