“They haven’t been questioned by me.”
“Please, Blayne...” I slipped out of Darren’s hold to fall to my knees in front of his brother.
“Ryiah—” Darren tried to protest, but I shook my head.
If I had to beg, I would. “Please.” My head shot up to look at the king. Please don’t be your father. “H-he’s so young. Derrick didn’t know… If he confesses to his crime? I-if I can get him to tell you who they are, where they are…”
“Go on.”
“If h-he does all that… can you spare my little brother’s life?” I emphasized the term, hoping to draw on Blayne’s relationship to his own.
The king folded his arms, his steel gaze unwavering. “For you, Ryiah, three days. If you can get your brother to confess, if you can get him to give my men the information you claim, I will consider it payment for his life.”
“Thank you. Oh gods, thank—”
“But, Ryiah,” Blayne’s voice was sharp. “I give Mira permission to start her methods the second day.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, and Darren knelt down to help me stand, shooting a glower at his brother. “You don’t have to scare her,” he snapped. “Ryiah’s brother isn’t a bad person. Whatever fool decision he made, he’s young. She’ll get him to talk.”
“You’d be surprised what kind of villain can exist in a family.” Blayne’s tone was curt. “Or have you forgotten our father so soon?”
“Derrick is hardly—”
“Anybody is capable of anything.” The king’s expression was dark. “It would do the two of you well to remember that. Do not let your love for anyone blind you from the truth. Those are the ones we stand to lose the most when they betray us.”
MIRA AND DARREN led me through a series of halls, following a torch-lit corridor, passing stone stairs and rusted gates and all sorts of foul smells, before we finally reached the end. Through a narrow tunnel, we came across a final set of doors bound by iron bars and a set of two guards in King’s Regiment garb.
The palace dungeons.
“She’s not going in alone!” Mira snarled. “She could be plotting his escape!”
“Do you not trust your own mages against one shackled soldier?” Darren gave the woman a hard look. “The rebels never responded to an inquisitor. Ryiah’s brother will be less willing to talk with anyone looming over their conversation.”
“It isn’t right—”
“Mira.” The prince swore. “I am not happy about finding a rebel in our midst, either, but there is nowhere that boy can escape. As your superior, and your prince, I am asking you to stand down.”
The mage shot me a sour look as she gave the two others a nod, indicating they should let me in. I swallowed as the men turned the heavy key into the door’s lock, praying the guilt wasn’t written across my face. Does Mira see it?
The guilt ate away at my lungs, but in that moment, there was nothing to stop me from seeing my brother and convincing him to take Blayne’s deal. Nothing. I would see him live.
The door swung open, and the second it did, the terrible scent of decay and fresh urine was so overpowering I had to fall back. My hand covered my mouth and nose, but it didn’t make a difference. I felt as if I’d inhaled a cloud of death and rot; the air was so thick I could feel the particles pressing against my skin.
Iron bars separated ten cells between the door and the wall. Manacles were secured to the bars inside. Blood stained the ground beneath, along with seeping buckets of what looked like old human waste.
Then I spotted my brother. The only prisoner, furthest from the door. His leg was sprawled out on the dirty floor, and he was clutching his ribs. Blood stained the rags that barely covered his chest and thighs, nothing more than an old potato sack, threadbare and worn.
Not one yard from where I stood was an iron chair, covered in spikes on every part of its surface, even the arm rests.
The Prisoner’s Chair. I’d read about it in the history books at the Academy. It was a longstanding favorite of inquisitors. Criminals were fastened in and then the straps were tightened. The pain was supposed to be terrible, but most wouldn’t die. They would writhe in agony, for hours holding their breath wishing the pain to end. And then they’d be removed.
They’d bleed to death in their cells. If they were lucky. If they survived, there were worse methods. There were devices that would stretch and then rip the limbs out of their sockets, one by one. Mutilation. Fire. Hot metal poured onto flesh.
The kings of Jerar had many ways to interrogate their criminals. Most methods were usually too complex to waste the effort. A normal crime that warranted death was done by hanging. But most prisoners didn’t carry secrets that could reveal a large grouping of traitors to the Crown.
“Derrick!” I threw myself against the bars of his cell, trying to hold my breath against the stench.
“What are you doing here?” My brother’s cough was labored.
“What do you mean?” My fists clung to the iron rods. “I came here to convince you to turn the others in.”
Derrick said nothing.
“Derrick!” My arms rattled the bars. “You have to turn them in!”
“I’m not telling the Crown anything.” His voice was empty, toneless. “You know this, Ryiah.”
“How can you say that?” My hands hurt from how hard I was gripping the steel. “They are going to have you killed, Derrick!” Tears stung my eyes as I fell to the ground outside his cell. “You have to tell.”
“If I have to die, at least it won’t be the rebels’ blood on my hands.”
“Their blood? What about Alex? Our parents? What about me, Derrick?” My voice raised wildly. “Do we mean nothing to you?”
“I would give my life just to keep the four of you safe.” He raised his gaze to mine, and his fists were clenched tight. “Just as I would for them.”
“Why?” My voice boomed across the chamber, and I didn’t care if Darren and Mira heard me. “Why would you protect a group of traitors? Selling our country’s secrets to a Caltothian king?”
“Ryiah—”
“You lied to me!” My fingers dug into the hard metal bars. I inhaled sharply and the stench burned at my lungs. I made myself lower my voice so it didn’t carry across. “About everything. You were never even looking for proof, were you? You just told me what you thought I needed to hear.”
He shifted his leg, and I could see how hard he was fighting to keep the pain at bay. “I wasn’t lying. King Lucius—”
“You’re still lying to me now!” I bit back a scream. “And you know what’s worse? I don’t even care! I begged Blayne to spare your life, Derrick, because you’re my brother and I love you.” The bars groaned as I shook them again and again. “I can’t lose you. I need you to beg the king’s forgiveness and tell him everything!”
“That man isn’t my king.” My brother’s words were bitter.
“They will torture you, Derrick. And then they’ll kill you. They will do it in the worst way, because you are a traitor!”
“Many great men have died the same.”
“You are a bloody pawn!” I shrieked.
“And you are a bloody fool!” he spat. “I wasn’t lying! Everything I said is true!” He lowered his voice to an angry hiss. “I was searching for proof. I may’ve neglected to tell you the part about getting the lists for Nyx, but that was only because I knew you would try to stop me!”
“I don’t care. I don’t care!” I beat my fists against the metal, jagged ridges drawing blood. Then I lowered my voice to a snarl. “You’re going to tell them everything.” My eyes flashed steel. “Or I will.”
“No, you won’t.” My brother’s gaze matched my own. Impenetrable walls of stone.
“Yes, I—”
“Would you give up your life in the palace?” His words hit my chest like a thick slab of ice. “Would you give up your prince? Would you willingly sacrifice Ian? And Ray? And all those lives in the north?” His laugh was cold.
“Just to save me you’d be condemning yourself. The Crown would never trust you again if they found out you knew about the rebels—”
I choked on air.
“They might spare your life, because of him… But you will be right here alongside me. To live out your life in the dungeons, a traitor.”
He’s right. My fingers slipped from the bars, and I slumped to the floor.
“Maybe King Blayne would spare me, but I’d rather die a traitor than give up the others’ lives just to live rotting in these cells.” His next sentence cut into me worse than any blade ever could. “And you and I, we’re one and the same.”
“Derrick…” I sobbed. “Please, w-what about Alex? Mom? D-dad?” What about me?
“I’m so sorry.” Shame crossed the lines of his face, and for the first time I saw emotion in his eyes. Regret. “I love you, Ry.”
“But they’ll never know!” Shards of glass ripped me apart. What about our family? “Three days, Derrick. They won’t even know until you’re dead!”
“Tell them I’m sorry.” He tossed the leather cord and the copper ring clinked against the floor.
“Derrick, no!” I beat at the bars. “Derrick, please!” There has to be a way.
“Guards!” My brother raised his voice and it cracked. “Please take my sister away.”
“Derrick, no!” I reached into the cell and grabbed his arm. I saw him flinch. “Please don’t do this!”
A rough pair of hands dragged me back, hauling me away from his cell.
“No!” I clawed at my captor, fingernails tearing apart skin, and blood streamed down like tears.
“Ryiah!” Another pair of hands caught me and pulled me away from the first. Garnet flashed before my vision and tears burst out like a stream, clouding the room so that I could no longer see.
“I will bring you back tomorrow,” Darren promised.
“He’s not going to tell!” My voice was hoarse from the screams. “He’s not going to tell!” And I couldn’t either. I was a liar. And a coward.
And I—
“We need to get her out of here.” The prince’s panic was a distant call as my body crumbled in his arms. Moments later, my legs and waist were hauled and swung, my head falling against something soft. Pine and cloves muffled the stench of blood and rot, but then they made it worse.
Home.
I struggled to breathe. Cool glass pressed against my lips and someone begged me to drink. I opened my mouth to protest and a bitter liquid hit my tongue. Derrick. A steady stream forced me to swallow, again and again as pungent sweetness and herbs assaulted my lungs.
Derrick.
The deafening pounding of my pulse slowly gave way to a lull. The frantic struggle fell from my limbs.
Derrick.
A sense of calamity, and then… I never remembered the rest.
18
The second day my brother refused, Mira set to work on his inquisition. It was supposed to be the Black Mage who interrogated prisoners of high treason, but Darren had petitioned Blayne for a reprieve.
A part of me longed to have him do it. Mira was bloodless and cold; it was hard for me to separate her from the enemy. My brother may’ve committed the crime, but I was in no state to consider reason. I had to be dragged away from the dungeon doors, and even then his screams still echoed in my head. They never went away.
I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I refused to drink. Darren was on his knees pleading with me just to breathe, and all I could do was stare at the wall. I needed a way to save my brother, and even if I were to reach out to the rebels, they were too far away. I had no way of knowing if he had a contact in the city, and Derrick refused to give me the answer for fear I’d try and trade the life of another for his.
He wouldn’t have been wrong.
I fell to madness by the morning of the third day. Mira’s methods had left my brother in a state so terrible that Darren had to drag me from the dungeon cells, kicking and screaming and threatening to kill the woman who’d done it.
They tried to put me in my chamber with Paige to stand guard, but I broke down the door with my magic. When she tried to stop me, I cast a dagger and held it to her throat, shaking as I begged her to take me to the king.
She could’ve stopped me, but something in her expression cracked and she sheathed her blade and let me by.
I fell to my knees on the cold marble tile. By now they were purple and bloodied—fresh wounds reopening so new stains mixed with old—so many times had I dropped and scrapped and begged for my brother’s reprieve.
“I’m truly sorry, Ryiah.” Blayne looked down at me from his throne, and his expression was full of regret. “I can’t let his crimes go unpunished. Not unless Derrick can give us the answers we need.”
“P-please.” Darren was holding me as I cried, tears flooding the floor with pieces of my heart mixed up in between. “I’ll do anything.”
“You have until dawn tomorrow.” Blayne looked away. “Too many lives are at stake. I want to spare him, Ryiah, I do. You’ve shown nothing but loyalty to the Crown…” His voice grew sharp. “But your brother put everyone in this kingdom at risk. Crown law dictates a traitor die after the first night, and I’ve given him three. More than my father would’ve ever done.”
A part of me shattered on that floor. Darren and Paige helped me back to the dungeons where I fell apart, screaming and sobbing as I begged my little brother, who lay dying, to talk.
Eventually, I was taken away and put back in my chamber with Darren sitting outside the door, his back to the panel as he spoke quietly to me inside.
As the hours drew to a close, his voice grew hoarse. “I’m sorry, Ryiah.” Then I heard the soft pad of his boots as he retreated to his own room.
I TOSSED AND TURNED, but I was never asleep. A thousand ideas crossed my mind as I fought reason for heart, and heart for reason. Every minute I considered bursting through that door to confess. I told myself I would tell Blayne everything and he would spare my brother.
But then Derrick’s words came rushing back.
“Would you give up your life in the palace?”
I would.
“Would you give up your prince?”
I would love Darren from afar, in my cell, until the day I died. I could give up his love for me for my brother’s life. It would kill me to do it, but it wasn’t even a question.
“Would you willingly sacrifice Ian? And Ray? And all those lives in the north?”
To sentence hundreds of people to death…
“And you and I, we’re one and the same.”
He knew I couldn’t do it. Derrick knew. I could give up everything for myself, but I couldn’t give up the others.
So many times the idea of breaking him out came to mind. It was as often as my breath… But even if I somehow found a way to do it, all I could think about was the Caltothian king and my brother’s lists. A part of me knew, if he escaped, King Horrace and the rebels would have everything they need to start a war.
Hundreds, if not thousands, of lives would be lost.
So much more than just my brother.
I couldn’t do it.
THREE HOURS PAST, and then at midnight an alarm rocked the palace walls.
I shoved out of the blankets with a start. Every part of me knew what this was. I didn’t think or even breathe.
I knew what to do.
I could hear Darren through the thin walls of our rooms utter a muffled curse, and then the loud thump as he left his bed to go put on boots.
The rebels are here.
I didn’t bother to change out of my shift or copy the prince. I had only seconds before Darren reached the hall, and I had to get there first.
I had to get to Derrick first.
I took off at a run. Slip-sliding with my feet against the icy marble, I tore past the corner—no guards in sight. I could hear the panicked shouts heading toward the palace barracks.
We’re under attack.
The closer I g
ot, I found two sets of guards crumbled and bleeding from their heads.
I was going to stop my brother; it had to be me.
When I reached the end of the corridor, I found Jacob half carrying my brother out of his cell, one of the dead guard’s keys dangling from a chain at his hip.
The Ferren’s Keep solider greeted me with a sneer. “Come to stop us?” he challenged. “I always told Derrick you were never to be trusted.”
My hand shook as I held it out in front of my chest.
“You’re his sister, but you chose the Crown.” The boy took another step, and my brother’s head lolled against his friend’s chest. My heart skipped a beat as Derrick sucked in a ragged breath. He was so weak.
“If you don’t let us go, you sentence him to die.” Jacob was only a couple steps away. His eyes glittered with malice and hate. “Is that what you want, swine?”
“N-no!” I stammered the word as my wrist shook violently.
“He loves you, you know.” Jacob’s words lashed out like a knife. “He kept telling Nyx she was wrong. He pled for the others to tell you every night you were out there practicing your blasted magic for the Candidacy.”
You’ve got to stop them, Ryiah. Do it. Do it now before he talks you out of it—
“Kill him.” Jacob shoved Derrick forward so that he was directly in front of my trembling fingers. My brother’s face was streaked in blood and swelling with cuts. His body was nothing but red, and he was struggling just to breathe.
Derrick’s blue eyes met mine, and I saw defeat.
“At least then it will be at the hand of his sister,” Jacob said. “Instead of an executioner.”
I knew I had to do it. All those lives. The war. I had to.
But my hand stilled. I couldn’t.
I slumped to the wall, letting the two rebels pass. Jacob’s knowing smile brought on unbridled rage, but my brother… my brother was all I could think about.
A shout and then a thundering boom.
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