Suddenly, Newt understood.
“Don’t do it, Alys,” he said, so forcefully that even he was surprised. Everyone was looking at him now. Solan’s glare was dagger-sharp. Newt swallowed hard, steeling himself. “He’s trying to make sure he doesn’t need us anymore before he kills us. It’s the only reason we’re still alive.”
Silence. Newt had never realized before how quiet the caverns were, as if all sounds were swallowed by the earth itself. Evander was the first to speak, of course.
“Rat bastard,” he said.
Solan ignored him and leaned forward in his chair, his eyes still on Newt. They roamed all across his face, a careful examination, an unforgiving judgment.
“You know I can choose exactly what memories I take.” His voice was low and terrible. “It’s the precious memories that taste the richest. The ones you play over and over in your mind, for comfort, for joy. But you don’t have many of those, do you?”
Newt said nothing. His jaw was set, but he knew his hands were shaking.
“Leave him alone,” Evander said.
“I’m fine,” Newt managed, though his voice quavered. “He can bluster all he wants, but if he truly thought we were expendable, we’d already be dead.”
Solan’s eyes narrowed, and something so dark and hideous flashed across his features that the hair on the back of Newt’s neck stood on end. His instincts sang, begging him to run, to fight, to do anything but sit there, gaze locked with Solan’s.
“You’re right, of course,” said Solan, his honeyed voice belying his expression. “I do need you all alive until I’m certain you’re no longer useful. But you’ve so much more to lose than just your life, Newt Dalton.”
A memory bubbled to the surface of Newt’s mind. His mother, singing on a stormy night. She had a lovely voice, like the rushing of water over smooth stones, like the warmth of the sun on a summer day. Then Newt couldn’t remember what he had been thinking about, what had filled his chest with comfort and his eyes with tears.
Solan was smiling.
A memory. His father, red-faced and laughing at the dinner table, slapping his thigh. Newt had said something funny, though he couldn’t recall what. His father beamed across the table at his mother, clasped Newt’s shoulder.
Then the memory faded, and the sound of his father’s laughter was the last thing to go, and Newt realized dimly, desperately, what was happening. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Somehow he’d lost his grip on Evander’s hand. He couldn’t see anything through the tears.
A memory. Evander, dripping wet and shirtless, lying on his back in the grass by the river. The sun scorching overhead, glistening against his skin, his silky black hair. He was grinning at nothing, saying something that Newt didn’t remember, because it didn’t matter, because all that mattered was that he was happy, so happy, so . . .
Solan was siphoning away everything good he had. With every second, Newt could feel more and more slipping away. And with every second, the bad expanded. His mother’s coffin. His father’s anger. The world-ending hate inside him. Soon there would be nothing else left.
Somewhere far away, he could hear his friends’ voices. Panic and fear and fury. He tried to make out what they were saying, but the memories were coming too fast, clouding out the present. For a split second, Newt’s vision cleared. Evander was kneeling in front of him. His face was the only thing Newt could see. He was saying something that Newt couldn’t make out, but it didn’t matter, because he was slipping under again.
And he was back at the Blacksmith’s house. The wind whipping at his cheeks. The sky looming with rain. Evander in his arms. Evander’s mouth on his. Newt struggled to hold on, but he could already feel it fading, fading . . .
“Stop, dammit, stop it, please!” Evander’s voice jolted through him, and he could see the present again. Evander held out a hand toward Alys, silver glinting in his palm. “Take them, Alys. Just do it.”
“Evander.” Alys’s voice was tight with panic. “If I—”
“Now.” Evander’s voice rang across the stone, and Newt didn’t know why he’d ever thought the caverns were silent, when every inch of them reverberated with sound.
He dropped his head into his hands, choking on his own tears, trying to catch his breath. His thoughts were torn and scarred. He felt hollowed out. He knew deep in his bones that he’d lost something irreplaceable, but he couldn’t remember what.
There was the clatter of coins hitting the ground. And Evander’s hands were on his shoulders, his voice soft again.
“Just look at me. Please.”
Newt shuddered with a phantom sob but dropped his hands. Evander’s face was blurred through the tears. Newt rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve.
“Are you okay?” Evander asked.
The nearness of him felt somehow familiar and somehow not. Newt tried to grasp at what he was sure was a memory, but there was nothing there.
“I don’t—I don’t know.”
Evander’s lips were a hard line, and the concern in his eyes was so profound that Newt’s chest ached. He knew he was missing something important. It was a shadow at the corner of his mind, impossible to catch.
“I’m not sure what I’m looking for.” Alys’s voice was strained. She was kneeling on the floor a few feet away, poring over the silver coins. Her messy braid hung over her shoulder, and a loose tendril near her mouth quivered with her breaths.
“Stop stalling and tell me what you see,” said Solan.
Newt flinched at the sound of his voice and immediately hated himself for it.
“Any minute now,” Evander whispered. He squeezed Newt’s shoulders. “We’re almost there.”
Newt wanted desperately to ask what he meant, but he was too scared. Scared that Solan would hear him. Scared that it was something he was supposed to know but had forgotten.
“I’m trying,” Alys said. “I told you, I’m not very good at this.”
“Stop making excuses.” Solan rose to his feet. “This is your last—” He doubled over, clutching at his stomach. For a few seconds, he just gasped, then a cry of pain tore from his throat. He collapsed back into his chair, his limbs shaking uncontrollably.
“Finally.” Evander jumped to his feet, pulling Newt up with him. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What did you do to him?” Alys scrambled to her feet and backed cautiously away from Solan, who was still writhing insensibly.
“I didn’t do anything. There’s a second wave of pain to the bloodbond, when your body tries to adjust. It’s almost as bad as the first.” Evander snatched up the ghost globe that had been deposited in the corner and headed down the corridor toward the seers’ chamber. The coins in front of Alys rattled and then darted through the air after him.
Newt stumbled after him as well, more from instinct than from any clear thought. Alys was close behind.
“Wait,” she said when they emerged from the tunnel. Evander was already on one of the paths over the water, his globe a sole beacon in the vast darkness. “Evander, for seers’ sake, just wait.”
Evander stopped and turned, but he didn’t come back toward them. In the blue ghost light he seemed half a ghost himself. Somewhere in the shadows nearby, Mira’s body was still lying there. Newt knew it was selfish of him, but he was glad there wasn’t enough light to see her.
“We need to go the other way,” Alys said, panting. “This way leads back to the crypts.”
“I know,” said Evander. “We’re going to the citadel.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Most definitely. But unless you can think of another way to warn someone about the monster we just unleashed, then we don’t really have a choice.”
“What about Cassa?” she asked, but Newt could hear in her voice that she already knew the answer.
“She left us here so she could go play executioner,” Evander said darkly. “She left us here, unconscious, with him.”
Newt knew it was th
e simple reality of the situation, though he hadn’t let himself consider it before. Hearing Evander say it, with an undercurrent of heartbreak in his usually carefree voice, made it feel so much worse. So much more like betrayal.
“He might have been lying,” Alys said, with no conviction. “Or maybe he didn’t give her a choice.”
“Maybe,” Evander conceded with equal conviction. “It doesn’t matter though. When the bloodbond takes full effect in a few hours, Solan won’t depend on the elixir anymore, and he’ll be free to wreak whatever devastation he wants. We have to warn the citadel.”
“What about our parents?” Alys persisted. “If Cassa really went to kill the chancellor, then they’re in even more danger than before.”
“They’ll be in just as much danger if Solan escapes, and so will everyone else in the city. This might be the only way to actually help them now.”
Alys hesitated. She glanced back once toward Solan’s chamber. Newt wondered how much time they had left—if they’d already lost too much. Even if they made it up to the Central Keep and convinced the council to listen to them, they might still be too late.
“They’re going to arrest us the moment we step foot in the keep,” Alys said, but resignation underscored her tone.
“We escaped once,” Newt said. “We can do it again, if we have to.”
Alys offered a mirthless smile, her gaze flitting between Newt and her brother.
“I wouldn’t want to die next to anyone else,” she said.
And together they headed for the lake.
THIRTY-NINE
CASSA
Cassa was the only one manacled, but she couldn’t help but notice that the guards kept Vesper and Chancellor Dane very tightly corralled. They ignored all of the chancellor’s quiet inquiries, which Cassa suspected wasn’t normal protocol between the high chancellor and his subordinates. She didn’t bother asking any questions. She was having a hard time caring what happened next, though she was grateful that they put her in the carriage for the long trip back to the citadel, even if it meant being crammed next to a surly guard. Vesper was in the seat across from her, and Cassa studiously avoided her gaze the entire way.
When they reached the Central Keep, Vesper and Dane were led in a separate direction, probably to someplace warmer and cleaner than where Cassa knew she was headed. The guards pushed her through corridors until they reached the metal-braced oak door that hid the steps into the dungeons. In front of it stood Captain Marsh, his arms crossed. His eyes gleamed in the lantern light. The thin iron chain looped at his belt was somehow more intimidating than the pistols surrounding her. His men saluted him, but Captain Marsh only eyed Cassa with a cool expression.
“If I had my way, you would have been shot on sight,” he told her. “But the council wants you to be properly sentenced.”
“Wonderful,” Cassa said. “It was so much fun the first time.” Sarcasm was so habitual that it actually required less effort than staying quiet did.
The guard holding her arm fidgeted as if he wanted to hit her. Or maybe he was expecting the captain to do it. Marsh ignored her and uncrossed his arms.
“Take her down. The others have just been brought in as well.”
“Others?” Cassa asked, her heart leaping into her throat.
Marsh ignored her and pulled open the door. Cassa considered the consequences of elbowing the man beside her in the face and charging the captain. Her insouciance was starting to evaporate. Before she could make a move, the guard pushed her forward.
The steps felt steeper and longer than she remembered. The stone, polished smooth after so many years of use, was icy cold under her bare feet. Before they’d reached the alcove, Evander’s voice drifted up to meet her.
“For seers’ sake, would you just listen to us? The citadel’s in danger! Someone has to tell the—”
“Just shut up already,” cut in an unfamiliar voice, probably a guard. “You’ll get your time in front of the council soon enough.”
When Cassa saw her friends at the base of the stairs, handcuffed but very much alive, she was somehow simultaneously dismayed and relieved. They were supposed to be in the caverns, far away from the council’s clutches. Why were they here?
Alys and Newt both stared at her, as if she could convey with her eyes the answers to all the questions they weren’t asking. Evander wouldn’t look at her. The pit of fury and despair in her stomach expanded with a new ache. It took her a few seconds to place the unfamiliar feeling. Guilt.
“Have they been searched?” Captain Marsh asked, his flinty gaze resting on each of them in turn.
“Yes, sir,” chimed two guards.
“Do it again,” Marsh said. “Thoroughly.”
The guard who had been with her since the Blacksmith’s cottage started patting her down, much more thoroughly than he had before. Not that there was anything else for him to find. She turned her head, but Evander was still avoiding her gaze. She couldn’t see his coins, but she knew he must already be evading the diligent efforts of the guard searching him. At least they would have that small advantage.
No sooner had she thought that than Captain Marsh lunged forward with startling speed. Cassa flinched away, but he wasn’t coming for her. He grabbed Evander by the shoulder and threw him face-first into the stone wall, so hard that Cassa’s own teeth shook. Evander gasped out in pain, and with a delicate clinking sound, three silver coins dropped to the floor, bouncing and rolling at the feet of the shocked guard. He stared for a few seconds and then hurried to retrieve them and button them into his jacket pocket.
“It’s a nice trick.” Marsh gave Evander a hard shake. “But sloppy execution.”
“Let him go,” Alys cried, straining against the guard who held her.
The captain did so but not before slamming Evander into the wall a second time. Cassa jerked instinctively toward him, but her guard grabbed her arm and yanked her back. Captain Marsh pushed Evander back toward the man who’d been searching him. Evander sagged in the man’s grip. His teeth were red with blood, and he blinked rapidly, as if he was fighting to stay conscious.
“What are you waiting for?” Marsh snapped at the other guards. “Finish the search.”
Cassa’s guard had finished his task and dug in his pocket for the item he’d confiscated from her earlier.
“Captain,” he said. “I found this on her at the cottage.”
He held out the little vial of inky black liquid—the poison that was supposed to be Solan’s demise before they’d decided instead to give him new life. Captain Marsh took it and held it up to the light. The lines in his weathered face deepened with suspicion. Cassa could feel the burn of Alys’s and Newt’s and even Evander’s eyes on her. She couldn’t bring herself to look at them. What did it matter if they lost the only means of killing Solan? It was too late for that anyway. They’d made their decision. He was free, and there was no going back.
“What is it?” Marsh asked her.
“It’s medicinal,” she replied. The guard did cuff her this time. Involuntary tears sprung to her eyes, but she blinked them away. Nowhere seemed safe to look, so she kept her gaze steady on the captain, daring him to force the answer out of her. Maybe a part of her hoped he would try. She deserved much worse.
Captain Marsh glared at her for a long time. She could almost see the wheels of his mind turning, but in the end, he just gave a mirthless smile.
“I don’t suppose it matters what it is,” he said. “You’ll all be dead before morning.”
She wanted to reply that they’d been assigned that same fate a few days ago and were still alive, but for once she decided not to push her luck. They had some long hours ahead of them. The captain unlocked the cabinet in the corner with new leisure and set the vial inside. He turned back to face them again, giving them each a final once-over.
“Put that one in leg irons too,” he said, gesturing toward Newt, “and if he even tries to slip out of the manacles, shoot him.”
One o
f the guards scurried to obey. Cassa braved a glance at Newt. There was a marked weariness in his features, but if the captain’s words had frightened him, he wasn’t showing it. He met Cassa’s eyes, and she looked away quickly. Captain Marsh had advanced on her, his arms crossed again as he studied her.
“I met your parents once,” he remarked. “Of course, I didn’t know who they were at the time.”
Cassa’s mouth was suddenly dry. A peculiar tingling rushed up her spine.
“Your mother picked my pocket,” he went on. Cassa couldn’t be sure, but he seemed on the verge of a smile. “Just for fun, I think. They were both very brave. And very reckless. I was almost sorry to hear about their deaths.”
He stared meaningfully at her, and Cassa wondered if he was sizing her up, comparing her to the legend of the incomparable Valeras. You were born of greatness, but there’s not really anything great about you, is there?
She wanted to say something, but no words would come. Then Captain Marsh shook his head, and the moment passed.
“Get them out of my sight,” he said, “and put them in the same cell this time so you can keep a good eye on them.”
The guard behind Cassa shoved her forward, and she fumbled for balance as he propelled her down the corridor. She managed to keep her feet until he thrust her into a cell. She landed hard on her hands and knees, the pain jolting through her bones. She twisted around in time to see Alys and then Newt being pushed in after her. She never would have admitted it to herself, but the prospect of being alone again had been torturous. Evander came in last, on his feet but barely. The door slammed shut behind him.
For a few seconds, the darkness felt as absolute as it was in the lake, and Cassa’s heart began to pound a little faster. But gradually the light from the corridor filtered in through the eye-level metal grating in the door, and she was able to make out the shapes of her friends. Evander sank to the ground while Alys fussed over him. Newt was stock-still in the corner by the door. Cassa was a little surprised that he’d managed not to lose his footing with the heavy irons around his ankles, though she knew she shouldn’t be. She’d never once seen Newt lose his balance.
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