Ruined

by Amy Tintera

  Em’s stomach dropped into her feet. Was Cas already dead? Would he be able to escape?

  She rubbed her fingers across her forehead, the guilt burning so intensely in her chest it took her breath away. This had always been the plan. If the warriors didn’t attack, then she’d have no hope of rescuing Olivia. They’d be completely outnumbered when they arrived at the Vallos Mountains. She’d known this was how her time at the castle would end.

  Still, she felt like curling into a ball and screaming.

  Aren nudged her arm. “Iria’s right about sleeping, Em. I could use some sleep as well. I covered your tracks as best as I could as I followed you, but I’m sure we’ll still encounter some Lera soldiers soon. We need to be prepared.”

  “I’ll keep watch,” Iria said.

  Em’s shoulders slumped in defeat as she let Aren tug her down to the ground. He put an arm around her, leaning back against the tree.

  “Thanks for finding me,” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “Thanks for not getting killed,” he whispered, squeezing her arm. “That would have really put a damper on my day.”

  Her lips twitched up as she let her eyes drift closed.

  TWENTY-SIX

  CAS LURCHED FORWARD as the wagon stopped. A few of the people around him stirred, waking from sleep. Beside him, Daniela arched her back, wincing as she rubbed a wrinkled hand across her eyes. They’d been crammed in the closed wooden wagon all night, and it was incredible that some of them were able to sleep. He wasn’t sure he’d ever sleep again.

  It was dim inside the wagon, only wisps of sunlight leaking in through the cracks in the wood. It was almost unbearably hot inside, and Cas’s clothes were stuck to his body.

  The door at the back swung open, and Cas squinted in the bright sunshine.

  “Men first,” the warrior barked. He jerked his thumb, indicating they should get out.

  For a brief moment Cas panicked, thinking the warriors were lining them up for execution.

  “Over there in the bushes,” someone said as the men started piling out. Cas sighed as he realized the warriors were just letting the prisoners relieve themselves.

  He climbed out of the wagon, ducking his head into his chest. There were six warriors around the wagon, and Cas noticed that many of the saddles were Lera colors as they dismounted their horses. They must have taken them from the castle or the townspeople.

  The warriors marched them in a straight line to the bushes, swords pointed at their backs. No one appeared to be thinking about running, as that seemed pointless. A few warriors had spread out in a circle, covering every corner.

  “Quickly,” a warrior barked as they approached a thick patch of bushes.

  When they headed back, Cas snuck a glance around. They must have been traveling south, because the air was thicker near the jungle. Were they headed for the Southern Mountains?

  Would Emelina be there?

  Anger bubbled in his chest, so powerfully it almost knocked him over. She must have known the warriors planned to attack. She’d probably had a hand in planning it.

  She’d known they were coming specifically to kill him and his family, and she’d let it happen. How strong could her feelings really be for him if she’d so easily sent him to his death? His father was gone because of her. Galo too, most likely.

  His throat closed, and he forced the image of his dead father out of his brain.

  The women streamed out of the wagon as the men approached, and Cas took a moment to appreciate the fresh air around him. How many days was he going to be in that wagon?

  And worse, where was he going to be when they finally let them out?

  The man in front of him stepped onto the wagon, and Cas put one foot up, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

  “Wait,” the warrior said.

  Cas froze as a hand closed over his arm.

  “Look at me.”

  Cas’s heart stopped. The warrior gasped as their eyes met.

  The warrior’s hand found his sword. “You’re—”

  Felipe shot in front of Cas so quickly it was nothing but a blur. The boy kicked the warrior in the hand, sending the sword flying. The boy scrambled in the dirt to grab it, and Cas opened his mouth to scream for him to stop.

  Felipe grabbed the sword and sank the blade into the warrior’s chest.

  Cas’s eyes went wide as the warrior fell to the ground, his mouth forming silent words.

  A female warrior lunged, easily blocking Felipe’s attack. She sliced her blade across his neck.

  Cas screamed. A sob caught in his throat as he fell to the ground. Felipe’s blood pooled beneath his knees.

  Someone grabbed him under the arms and he struggled against them, kicking his legs and trying to get back to the boy.

  “Get him in there or I’ll slit his throat too!” the female warrior yelled.

  Tears streamed down Cas’s face as a staff member gently tugged him into the wagon. He wiped a hand across his face as he scooted on his knees to the corner of the wagon, but a fresh wave of tears came.

  People moved in all around him. Daniela sat beside him again. She put a hand on his arm, and he had to fight back another wave of tears.

  He took in a shaky breath, glancing at the people around him.

  “Please don’t anyone else do that,” he whispered.

  Daniela patted his arm. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but I think we’re all going to ignore that order.”

  His cheeks burned as he wiped tears from them. His people were probably looking to him for leadership and strength, and he was weeping like a child.

  He cleared his throat, turning his gaze to his feet. They began moving again, and Cas spent most of the morning and afternoon struggling to hear the chatter outside. He needed a plan, and an idea of their location, but the warriors gave no indication as to where they were going. The only hint he got was that they were “sticking to the road and staying clear of the river,” which he took to mean they were avoiding traveling through the heart of the jungle. It would have been very difficult with a wagon anyway.

  He leaned his head back against the wood, noticing suddenly that every head in the wagon was turned in his direction. He straightened, giving them a curious look.

  Daniela pointed to something across from him, and Cas leaned over so he could see what she was trying to show him.

  A young woman in the back left corner had her hand braced against the side of the wagon. She tilted her hand forward, an entire wooden panel coming with her. She’d managed to free a large piece of the wood and was only keeping it in place with her hand. It was big enough for someone to squeeze through.

  “They have us surrounded,” he said quietly.

  “When we stop,” the girl whispered, her dark, tangled hair falling in her face. “They’re talking about stopping soon. Come to this side, and we’ll make a distraction.”

  Cas hesitated. If he got caught, they’d kill him no matter who he was. But if he stayed, someone else would surely recognize him. If not on the road, then when they arrived.

  The staff started making a path for him to crawl through.

  “I shouldn’t leave you,” he said. “I don’t know where they’re taking you.”

  Daniela shook her head. “You can’t stay. The king is dead. If they kill you too, what will happen to Lera? They will have won.”

  Cas swallowed. He knew she was right, though guilt still nagged at him.

  “Only if it seems safe,” he said, scooting forward. “If I get caught, they’ll know you distracted them so I could escape.” He wasn’t letting anyone else die for him today.

  “I think you might get a few splinters in odd places,” the girl said as she squeezed next to him. She squinted at the small area he’d have to wedge himself through, then glanced over at him. She seemed to immediately remember to whom she was speaking, and her whole face flushed.

  He laughed softly. She smiled through her embarrassment and ducked her head.

&nbs
p; “What’s your name?” he asked quietly.

  “Violet,” she said.

  “Thank you, Violet.”

  They rolled to a stop a few minutes later, a blast of fresh air blowing through the wagon as a warrior opened the door.

  Daniela lurched forward, falling on a few people in the process.

  “Sir?” she croaked, reaching for the warrior at the door. “I’m going to vomit.”

  The warrior jumped back as she tumbled out of the wagon. Retching noises filled the air as she hit the ground. Another girl poured herself onto the ground and did the same.

  Cas leaned forward, watching through a crack in the wood as two warriors dismounted their horses and walked to the back of the wagon to see what was going on. The left side of the wagon was totally clear, from what he could see.

  “They need water,” one of the warriors said. Cas glanced over to see a big clump of them standing at the door. The staff members in front of him were sitting as tall as possible, hiding him from view in the back corner.

  He nodded at Violet, and she slowly moved her hand, letting the wood fall away from the wagon. She gently lowered it to the floor of the wagon.

  The narrow opening was only barely big enough. He eased his leg through first. Seemed preferable to getting his head stuck. He slipped the other foot through.

  His feet found the ground, and he took a quick glance back to see the staff divided between watching him and keeping an eye on the warriors at the wagon door. The warriors’ attention was still on the women, but they started to turn back to the wagon.

  “Come on, come on out,” one of the warriors said, waving his hand impatiently.

  A man in front made a sound like a scream or a cry, causing every head to turn in his direction.

  Last chance. Cas braced his hands against the wood, arching his back as he let his torso through. His feet slipped, the wood scraping against his stomach as he began to fall. Definitely a few splinters in weird places.

  He hit the ground on his butt with a soft thud.

  He was out.

  “Come on, everyone out!” a warrior called impatiently.

  Cas gingerly moved into a crouch, scooting behind the front wheel of the wagon. A warrior atop a horse was only a few paces in front of him, but he was facing forward, away from Cas.

  “What’s going on back there?” a voice yelled from ahead. The warrior near Cas started to turn.

  Cas scrambled beneath the wagon, rolling onto his back directly in the center, away from the wheels. He held his arms against his chest, willing himself not to breathe.

  “They’re getting sick from the heat,” a warrior replied.

  Boots hit the ground, spraying dirt across Cas’s right arm. “Get them some water,” a female voice said.

  The boots disappeared, and Cas lifted his head to see them headed for the back of the wagon. His left looked clear, though it was hard to tell from underneath the wagon. He’d have to risk it, because he had to get out from under the carriage before they started moving again.

  Cas eased himself to the left and slowly rolled over onto his stomach. He scooted forward, barely peeking his head out.

  The horse at the front of the line was unmanned now.

  He looked at the rear of the wagon. He could see the side of one warrior and the back of another. If they turned this way suddenly, he’d be done for. He ducked his head, peering out the other side of the wagon. A line of shoes walked away from him. The staff was all headed to the other side, so hopefully the warriors would stay there with them.

  He moved his forearms against the ground, wiggling forward on his stomach until his body was halfway out from underneath the wagon. He didn’t dare stand, as one of the warriors might catch the movement out of the corner of his eye.

  “Men with me!” a warrior yelled.

  Cas dared to go a little faster. He was completely out from under the wagon now, lying flat on his stomach in the middle of the road. The tall grass in front of him wouldn’t be enough to hide him if anyone looked closely, but maybe if he stayed still. Very still.

  A grunt made him peer over his shoulder, and he saw the two warriors closest to him now facing each other, talking.

  He scooted into the grass until his feet were off the road, and then went a bit farther. He placed his palms flat in the dirt and rested his face on top of them. He was breathing heavily, but he tried to be perfectly still.

  “Back inside!” a warrior finally yelled.

  Horses’ hooves thudded against the ground, and he knew the warriors had all gone back to their posts. All they had to do was glance over at the lump in the grass and he was dead.

  Cas held his breath as the wagon creaked and the horses began to move.

  “What is that?” a voice called.

  Cas curled his toes in his boots, preparing to run. Maybe if he ran fast enough they wouldn’t catch him. Maybe he could find a good enough hiding place.

  “Is that my knife?” The voice was amused, and someone else laughed. “Get your own knife.”

  Cas said a silent thank-you as the sounds began to grow distant. He remained motionless for a long time, probably much longer than he needed to.

  He finally lifted his head, slowly, and blinked against the sunlight. Everyone was gone. A warm breeze blew through the grass, making it tickle his face, and he almost felt like laughing for a moment. The urge left as soon as it came.

  He got to his hands and knees, then to his feet. If the warriors were staying away from the river, then that was exactly where he needed to be. He could follow it almost all the way to Fort Victorra.

  He pushed his hair out of his face and ran through the grass, headed for the cover of the trees.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  EM WALKED BEHIND Koldo and Iria as they trekked through the jungle. It had been two days since Aren had found them, and she felt better with her friend next to her. He’d pointed out Koldo’s slight limp and bloodied left leg yesterday and she’d been watching it ever since, getting a handle on how he moved in case she needed to defend herself.

  They were all silent as the morning stretched into afternoon, and Em couldn’t help but think of Damian. He was the talkative one, the one Aren and Em would have to shush and remind that they were trying to be quiet to avoid hunters. The weight of his absence mixed with her fear for Cas, and every step she took felt heavy.

  “Should I carry you?” Aren asked, cocking an eyebrow when she fell behind again.

  “Sorry.” She took a couple of quick steps to catch up with him. “I miss Damian,” she said, leaving out the second part of her sadness.

  Aren kicked a pebble out of his way. “Me too.”

  “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if we’d gone into hiding instead of doing all this,” she said, letting herself picture it for a moment. “Like if we’d just found a place to be safe and took some people with us. If I’d married Damian and tried to forget everything that had happened.”

  Aren laughed, and she turned to him in surprise. He rolled his eyes at her.

  “You never would have married Damian, Em.”

  “I . . . I don’t know. Maybe it could have happened, if everything had calmed down.”

  Aren shook his head. “If you’d felt that way about him, it wouldn’t have mattered how crazy our lives were. You managed to develop some pretty strong feelings for Cas despite terrible circumstances.” He lifted an eyebrow, and she looked away. He had a point.

  “He wasn’t upset about it,” Aren continued. “Disappointed, sure. But he wasn’t waiting or hoping or anything.”

  She swallowed, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “And you will never be the type to hide,” Aren said. “Everyone else wanted to hide, and you insisted on fighting. I admire you for it.”

  “Don’t admire me.” She’d taken the king’s tactics and made them her own. While trying to defeat him she had become him, and that seemed far worse than anything she’d ever imagined.

  Aren bumped
his shoulder against hers. “Too late.”

  Cas’s stomach rumbled for food, and his mouth was so dry that he couldn’t think of much else. The heat inland was almost unbearable, and he wondered why people would live in the jungle when they could enjoy an ocean breeze near the shore.

  He was entirely alone, and had been for a full day, but the sounds of the jungle seemed far too loud. He’d never realized how accustomed he was to the sounds of the castle—the hum of the staff moving about, the quiet voices that echoed through the halls, the way the wind would gently rattle his window. Even in the wagon he’d been more comfortable, surrounded by the voices he’d known all his life.

  But out here, without another soul anywhere near, the sounds were deafening. The crickets were singing a constant, manic rhythm, and a frog would croak every now and then, as if trying to accompany them. The noise only increased his panic about being completely alone.

  He wiped the back of his arm across his forehead and batted a giant green leaf away from his face. He had to be close to the river by now. He couldn’t hear it yet, but he’d headed west after leaving the wagon. Unless he’d drifted off course, he’d be there at any moment.

  He trudged forward. His feet had begun to ache, but it was nothing compared to the thirst, and he forced his legs to move faster, until he finally heard the sounds of the water lapping against the shore.

  The homes appeared as soon as he was able to see the river, and he stopped, startled that anyone lived out here. He’d known a large number of the Lera people lived in the jungle, but he’d never actually seen them.

  The homes directly on the river were built on rafts, floating right on the shore. The homes a bit farther up the shore were built high off the ground, pieces of wood taller than him elevating the homes so they were safe from floods. The roofs were made of woven palms, and some of the homes didn’t have walls. They wouldn’t have needed them, since it was never cold this far inland and they probably welcomed the frequent rain.

  He looked from the rushing water to the homes, reluctant to leave the safety of the trees. A woman emerged from one of the raft homes, wearing clothes that must have been brought in from a Lera city. Her skirt was knee-length and bright red, and she wore a white sleeveless shirt. The clothes were old and worn, and she must have had them for a long time.