by Kaylin Lee
Chapter 23
I bowed my head. “Your Highness, I’m so—”
“I’m not done.” He grunted and lifted himself up a little further, eyeing me with a strange look on his face. “I’ve had the chance to do some research since I last saw you, you see. You were also the first child from a common family to win a scholarship to the Royal Academy, where you were at or near the top of your class in every subject. You survived an attack by the Blight in your own classroom, an attack that scarred your face and robbed you of your graduation, and then, rather than give up, you launched the most successful shop our city has ever seen, in a location that many had been too afraid to visit, thanks to the Blight.
“When you realized that the regulations were against you, you found a solution—a change in the regulations that would benefit not only you, but the entire city—a change that could lift this city out of the plague years completely. And, even though you knew the guards would likely kill you on sight, you came to the palace to warn me when you found out about the true threat.”
I dragged my gaze up from the floor and back to his face. What was he saying?
“My father would have killed you, Ella, on principle alone.” His face took on an intensity I had never seen before. “But I am not my father.” He glanced at the guard beside me. “Darien, get your team together. Sounds like it’s time. And get this girl something to eat and drink. She’s about to fall over.”
The guard nodded. “Will do, Your Highness.” He unbound my wrists and left the room, this time from the main door, not the small passageway we’d come through.
I stared nervously at the ground, darting the occasional glance at the prince. I couldn’t believe they’d left me alone with him.
He relaxed his head against the couch for a minute and then lifted it again. “You may be wondering why I’m lying here, injured, without a healer to attend me.”
I nodded slowly.
“My father, before his death, was convinced that the mages were against him. He believed that even though the mages were under True Name control, they could still find ways to harm us. He allowed no mages or mage-crafts in the palace, save for a few loyal trackers, the suffio, the luminous supplies we get from the common markets, and the occasional Procus event. Even then, all mage-crafts are confined to a single room. I’ve never seen a healer, and though I’m not the paranoid bastard he was, I likely never will. Can you imagine what a powerful expellant mage like a healer might do to me if they had even the smallest desire to harm the royal family? I can’t risk it.”
“But if you believed the mages were rebelling, why didn’t you stop the Blight sooner?” I asked bluntly, and then bit my lip as I realized how accusatory that sounded. He’d been beyond gracious to me so far. Would my question push him over the edge?
He laughed, then he grunted and grabbed his side. “I think you’re overestimating my power. Not that I don’t appreciate the loyalty, but I’m not omniscient. We had no intelligence suggesting with any certainty that the Blight was made up of mages, and we’ve never tracked them to one of their hideouts. Until now, that is.” He eyed me curiously. “We’ve been preparing, however. You’ll see.”
The door swung open, and Darien stepped back into the room. “Ready, Your Highness. Ella, I’ll need directions and details, as much as you can give me. If I may, Your Highness?” My stomach dropped. Directions? Of course. There was more than one abandoned warehouse in the River Quarter.
The prince nodded, and I curtsied before following Darien out the door. I could hear deep voices in conversation further down the hallway, and occasionally a shout of male laughter rang out. But Darien led me into another small room and shut the door. Inside, a dark-haired woman waited at a table. She was dressed in a black uniform that matched Darien’s with the addition of a gold armband around her upper arm. I noticed for the first time that, unlike the Quarter Guard and the Palace Guard, their uniforms held no symbol or identifying mark at all.
“Sit,” said Darien. “Let’s be quick about this. Tell Raven here everything you can about the location.”
I pulled out a chair and joined the woman at the table. She shoved a plate of bread and a glass of water in front of me as Darien joined us at the table. I stared at the bread, my stomach turning. I was desperately hungry, and so thirsty my head had been pounding for hours. But how could I eat and drink when everyone I loved was in danger?
I looked away from the food and focused on Raven instead. “I … well, it’s in the River Quarter. I know that much. The warehouse was dirty on the outside. Maybe had a few broken windows, I think. And … there was a small entrance. A door. That’s where I heard the Blight’s men talking. I think they were standing guard.”
Raven raised a cool eyebrow. “That’s it?”
“Um …” I closed my eyes and tried to replay the scene from hours earlier. “I’m sorry, it was so dark before dawn, and I just …” I’d been too terrified to pay attention to little details like street names, but I didn’t feel like admitting that in front of this woman now.
“Did you see your stepmother or stepsisters, or this other mage, at the warehouse?”
“No, but the guards said—”
“But you didn’t physically see any of them?”
“No …” I glanced at Darien who was frowning at me.
“Then how do you know they’re there?” She looked at Darien. “I thought you had vetted her.”
My heart jumped in my chest. They had to believe me. I couldn’t come all this way only to fail now. “I know they’re there.” I swallowed. “I know it, because I know the True Name of Weslan Fortis, the mage who was with my stepmother. I didn’t follow them. I waited for them to come home, but when they didn’t, I realized I could track his location in my mind with the bond. I didn’t know what else to do, so I decided to try and find them on my own.” By the end of my confession, I was whispering. I glanced between Darien and Raven when they didn’t respond.
Raven’s expression was cold and inscrutable, despite the slight widening of her eyes, so I watched Darien run a hand over his face. Finally, he spoke. “I understand why you didn’t tell us, Ella. But you should’ve. If we’d gone in with hazy directions, we could’ve lost any advantage we might’ve had.”
The corner of Raven’s mouth lifted. “Yes, you could have told us. What’s one more count of treason, after all?”
I swallowed against the painful lump in my throat. “I’m sorry …”
And then, to my surprise, she laughed, the warm sound at odds with her cold face. “You’re something else, Cinderella. And it sounds like you’ll be coming with us.”
~
The long, black fomewagon jostled us as it took a corner, and I clutched the seat to remain upright and avoid bumping into Raven again. We sat near the front so I could give directions to the driver as I felt the bond pull me. Outside, the day was hot and the sun high. It had to be nearly midday.
I glanced toward the back. The men of the Sentinels were packed into most of the remaining seats, a small army of black-clad muscle. I’d learned that they reported directly to Prince Estevan and had trained for years to fight one terrifying threat—mages turning on humans.
The Sentinels laughed and joked as though they weren’t about to meet the Blight head-on for the first time since the attacks began. They were a mismatched bunch, some tall and broad, some wiry and small. Some were dark, and others light. Some had closely shorn hair, and others had wild hair and long, streaked beards like badlanders.
To a man, they were powerfully built, even the wiry ones, and they carried themselves with an air of quiet power that I’d never seen in the Quarter Guards before. Three female mages rode with us, one of whom was Raven. The guards were rough and jovial, cracking jokes and pretending to fight with each other. But the mages were stoic and distant, with an absence of emotion that seemed more painful than a frown or scowl might have been. Something in their demeanor reminded me of Belle, as though each one had looked evil in
the face and lived to tell about it.
I shivered and faced the front. “Up there. To the right.” The fomecoach swung around the corner, and I felt the inexplicable pull get a little lighter. “We’re close.” My words were soft, but everyone in the coach quieted. I squeezed my grip on the seat. I’d felt nervous before, in exam time, when I wasn’t sure if I’d studied sufficiently the night before. This was nothing like that feeling.
I closed my eyes and focused on the pull as we went deeper into the River Quarter. “Take the next left.” I opened my eyes as I felt the fomecoach turn. The warehouses looked familiar. We were in an old, dusty part of the River Quarter, far from the hubbub that surrounded Riverwalk Market and the many tenements near it. Here, there were only old buildings, leftover from another time when wealth poured into Asylia like a flood from the West.
The pull grew weaker. I knew this street. I’d tripped and fallen right there, after turning the corner and successfully getting out of view of the two mages I’d spied on. “Stop!”
The fomecoach jerked to a stop, and the driver frowned at me.
“It’s right around the corner.” My voice felt far too loud, and the words echoed in my head. I glanced behind me again, my eyes unconsciously seeking out Darien’s, looking for what, I didn’t know.
How many of these men and women would be lost today? What could a bunch of magic-less soldiers, three female trackers, and a kitchen girl do against the Blight? Against the bloody man from my nightmares?
“Then we’re up,” Darien said.
There was a general grunt of acknowledgment, and the soldiers filed out into the street, weapons at the ready. Raven and I jumped out after them, and Darien looked to me expectantly. “You’ll have to show us, Ella.”
I nodded and led them around the corner, letting the pull confirm that Weslan was still in the same warehouse I’d found before. No one stood at the narrow basement entrance this time. I looked up at the dusty warehouse. It must have been grand in its time, for the warehouse was massive. Now it was nothing more than a dirty, broken shell.
And then I felt it. The pull was getting weaker. I glanced around wildly. Weslan was there, but he wasn’t staying in place. He was moving farther away. “They’re moving,” I told Darien. “Getting away. They might be moving within the warehouse, or maybe there’s another door on the other side. I don’t know. I won’t know until we’re inside.”
He nodded. “Then we’re going inside now.”
Darien gave some sort of signal, and three of his team split off and approached the narrow door.
I kept looking for any sign of the Blight, his men, or his captives, but I saw no one.
Then the door swung open, and the three men disappeared inside. A moment later, one appeared at the entrance and signaled Darien. He nodded to me, and the rest of the group headed for the door. Would any of us come out of this warehouse alive?
The warehouse was oppressively dark inside, and it was baking in the stifling summer heat. It took several moments for my eyes to adjust. I stopped inside the door as the guards searched for any sign of the Blight and focused on that little spark, wondering where the pull would take me. The pull drew me across the wide warehouse, past the empty pallets and shelves. There, on the far side to the right, a cluster of doors led to offices of some kind. I gestured to Darien and pointed to the doors.
He nodded and sent a few guards toward the doors. We followed. The rest continued to search through the warehouse, working toward the doors as well.
My legs shook as we walked, and I was thankful my old shoes made almost no noise on the warehouse floor. Weslan had to be behind one of them—the pull was undeniable.
Darien gave me a questioning look and gestured at the doors.
I shut my eyes to concentrate. Where was Weslan? I focused on his familiar pull, concentrating on how it felt to be with him. I thought of the quiet moments we had worked together in the kitchen, each knowing what the other needed before a word was spoken. In my mind’s eyes, I saw his golden hair, falling into his eyes again and his big hands, coated in flour as he kneaded the dough beside me. I had always been tempted to lean in to the warmth of his shoulder, but never—
I opened my eyes and pointed to the door on the far right. It was that one. I was sure of it.
A guard edged forward and tried the door handle, but it was locked. The rest of the guards approached the door, swords out and ready. And then, with a single powerful kick, he took the door down.
The next few moments were a blur of screams, crashes, and the deafening sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. The other guards rushed the door, and Darien left us to join them.
Raven held me back. “You’re with me.”
I couldn’t tell who was screaming, but the screaming wouldn’t stop. My breath came in rapid gasps.
A shout issued from the room, “Raven, we need you!”
She glanced from me to the door, clearly torn.
I shoved her forward. “Go! I’ll be fine.” My voice shook. But if she was needed, I couldn’t be the one to keep her back.
She disappeared into the room, and I waited, sweat dripping into my eyes. I wiped it away and strained my ears, but still couldn’t tell what was happening inside. Should I stay safely outside? Or should I go inside to see what was happening?
And then I felt it again—that little weakening of the bond. Weslan was moving away. While the Blight’s men were fighting the guards, someone was taking Weslan, and maybe Zel and the girls, out of the warehouse. And the pull led right through that room. I had to find them.
I dove into the room and huddled behind a desk. The fight was pure chaos. I couldn’t tell who was winning. All I could see were bodies locked in close combat, knives and swords darting through the air. The wounded and dead sprawled on the floor.
But there was no trace of Weslan or Zel. I made myself as small as I could behind the desk, hoping no one would notice me there. I focused on the little spark again. Where was Weslan going?
There were two doors in this room in addition to the one I’d entered from, and the pull drew me toward the door farthest away. He must be there.
I peeked around the edge of the desk. There was no clear path to the door. I’d have to run for it and take my chances that the Blight’s men would ignore me. I crouched and took a deep breath. The pull was getting farther away. It was now or never.
I shot from behind the desk and dodged two men fighting right beside it. I wove my way between the fighters until I was at the door. A hand gripped my ankle, and I fell to the floor. With one kick, I was free. I rolled to my back and struggled to my feet. But the large man tackled me, squishing me against the floorboards. We were face to face. His forearm pressed against my throat, and I gurgled in protest. Was he going to kill me? I couldn’t have come so far only to die now.
His face was bloody and twisted with anger, his eyes wild, and it took a moment to recognize him.
“Professor Jace?” My words came out in a strained gasp. I shoved with all my might against his arm and only managed to budge it a hair’s breadth.
He bared his teeth at me, looking nothing like the refined Procus teacher who’d hated me so much at the Royal Academy. “You little traitor,” he growled. “You don’t know when to listen, Cinderella. Didn’t the Blight tell you to give up? He’s won.”
“Why … why would you help them?” I croaked the words out as I wriggled under him, desperate to relieve the pressure on my throat. “The Blight is going to enslave everyone. That includes you.”
He pressed harder. “I only seek order, not that you would understand.” Spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke. “Mages are superior to humans in every way. They’re the true rulers of this city. Mages, then Procus families, then commoners at the bottom. That’s the natural way of things. We can’t have grasping commoners like you trying to upset the natural balance.”
My head felt as if it might explode. I wasn’t getting enough air, and soon, I’d be done. As hard as I pus
hed, there was no way to budge him. He was too much heavier and stronger than me.
Hot wetness covered my stomach. Had he also stabbed me? Why did I feel no pain?
Then his arm weakened against my throat.
I wasn’t the one who’d been stabbed. He was. And he was bleeding out, right here on top of me.
Professor Jace glared at me. “You’ll never stop him. The Blight is too smart, too powerful. You were an idiot to think you could ever control a mage. You and every Fenra in this city.”
I waited until his grip weakened again, and then I shoved with all my might, rolling in the same motion. He flopped over with a grunt of surprise, and I staggered to my feet.
He lay on the ground, staring up at me. “I’ll die with honor for the Blight,” he whispered, his hand falling slack at his side. “You’ll never—”
His words were lost when I plunged into the dark hallway behind me.
I raced forward, stumbling over boxes and debris that lined the walls. I focused on the little spark, letting it guide me. The sounds of fighting receded as I rushed through the warehouse. The pull got stronger. I was close.
Finally, the hallway ended in an open bay where fomewagons used to load goods in the days before the plague. I stumbled to a halt. I’d found them.
Chapter 24
A group of men in black hoods and red masks stood across the bay with their backs to me. Just steps away, a shabby black fomewagon waited to be loaded. Weslan and the twins were at the edge of the loading ramp, gags over their mouths and bindings on their hands and feet. But Zel—
She was free. She stood beside a tall, golden-haired man, the only one not wearing a mask. Where were they planning to go?
They moved toward the fomewagon and, without thinking, I raced toward them. “Wait! Zel! Wait, it’s me!”
I skidded to a stop as they all faced me. There was nothing I could do to stop them. All I’d done was give myself away.
Weslan strained against his bindings, shouting a muffled warning that I couldn’t heed. It was too late to run away.