by Amy Tintera
“I’ll do it,” Galo said.
Every head turned to him. Em blinked in surprise.
“I’ll do it,” he said again.
“No, you can’t . . .” Cas’s voice trailed off, like he couldn’t think of why Galo couldn’t.
“It should be me,” Galo said. “I already know some of the Ruined. I know Olivia. Some of the soldiers have only seen her from a distance. They won’t even know who to avoid.” He said the words partly to convince himself. He needed something to make himself useful, a way to prove he was actually good at something besides wielding a sword. This was the perfect opportunity.
“That’s a good point,” Em said to Cas. “And Aren already knows Galo. Aren is always wary of new humans. He’ll appreciate having someone he already knows he can trust.”
Galo tried not to make a face. While he had warmed up to Em, the same couldn’t be said of Aren. He’d been cold and reserved on the Lera guard, and then cocky and annoying in Vallos.
Cas cracked his knuckles as he considered. He clearly didn’t want to let Galo go, and he had the power to order him to stay.
“You’re sure you want to go?” he asked Galo quietly.
“Yes.”
“Then you should go.” Cas let out a sigh, but he smiled at Galo. “Get ready to leave in a few days. Pack light. You’ll have to go on foot part of the way.”
“I’ll draw you a map of where you can wait for us,” Em said. “It’s a little ways outside of town. Me or Aren will check the spot every evening, to see if you’ve arrived.”
He tried not to grimace. Aren was the best choice, in terms of protecting him. In fact, if he wanted to stay safe in Westhaven, he probably shouldn’t leave Aren’s side. That was unfortunate.
It occurred to him suddenly that he hadn’t asked how long his trips to Westhaven would be. He didn’t even know how long he would be traveling back and forth. It could be months.
I’m worried you’re going to leave. Mateo’s voice drifted through his mind, and he suddenly realized he hadn’t kept his promise.
Everyone was getting up, leaving Cas and Em alone, and he quickly got to his feet.
“Galo,” Em said. He turned to face her. “Thank you. Really.”
He nodded, and realized there was a bigger reason to do this, more important than him wanting to prove something. The Ruined needed help, and he’d never done anything to help them.
He turned and walked out of the room, down the stairs, and to the guards’ quarters. He knocked on Mateo’s door, and his roommate, Lawrence, opened the door.
“He’s on shift,” Lawrence said before he could get a word out. “But it should be almost over.” He grabbed his jacket off his bed. “You can wait if you want. I was headed out.”
“Thanks,” Galo said, stepping inside. Lawrence walked out, pulling the door closed behind him.
Galo sat on Mateo’s bed, rehearsing what he was going to say.
They need my help!
There’s no one else!
I don’t have anything to do anyway!
Mateo really wouldn’t appreciate that last one. It was Galo’s own fault that he had nothing to do and was free to run around with the Ruined.
The door opened, and Mateo stepped inside. His face broke into a smile when he spotted Galo sitting on his bed.
“Hey. I was going to come find you as soon as I got changed.” He leaned down and kissed Galo briefly, then walked to the wardrobe against the wall and began unbuttoning his jacket. “I heard Emelina is here. Did you see her?”
“I saw her. Cas pulled me in to a meeting with her.”
Mateo tossed his jacket in the bin in the corner and turned, eyebrows raised. “How was that?”
He swallowed. “Um . . .”
“What? Are you not allowed to tell me?”
“No, it’s not that. I just . . .” He took in a breath. “I volunteered to do something.”
Mateo’s face fell, like he could already tell he wasn’t going to like it. “What?”
“They need a messenger, to travel between here and Westhaven. Someone who can stay with the Ruined for days at a time, then come back and relay what’s happening there.”
“Westhaven,” Mateo repeated. “Olivia killed everyone in Westhaven.”
“Lots of people made it out.”
“Lots of people didn’t.” He threw up his hands. “No sane person would go anywhere near Westhaven right now.”
“Em has a plan. She can protect—”
“When has Em ever stopped Olivia from killing someone?” Mateo interrupted.
“That’s not fair. Aren will be there as well, and he actually can stop Olivia.”
“You seriously trust that jerk to protect you?”
“Yes,” Galo said. “He’s not my favorite person, but he’s proven he’ll protect us.”
Mateo stared at him for a moment. “Cas is letting you do this?”
Galo didn’t try to hide the flash of annoyance he felt. He didn’t need Cas to let him do anything. Cas was his king, and his friend, but he didn’t control what Galo did.
“It was my decision,” Galo snapped.
Mateo’s cheek twitched, like it always did when he was angry. “For how long?”
“I don’t know. Until the Ruined come here. I may be traveling back and forth for a while.”
“Why does it have to be you? Why do you have to save everyone?”
“I don’t have to save everyone. I saw an opportunity to help and I took it.”
Mateo let out a long sigh and leaned one shoulder against the wardrobe. “So why does it have to be you?” he asked again.
“It doesn’t. But I want to do it.”
“And what I want doesn’t matter.”
Galo reached for Mateo’s hand. He really wanted Mateo to understand, to hug him and tell him he was doing the right thing. The brave thing. “Of course it matters. But I’d really like it if you’d support me here.”
“I’m not supporting you when you’re doing something stupid.”
Galo dropped Mateo’s hand, looking at the floor to hide his disappointment. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
Galo stood and pulled the door open. “I didn’t ask your permission.” He walked out the door and let it slam behind him.
ELEVEN
IRIA LIFTED A spoonful of oatmeal to her mouth and swallowed it, trying to avoid the stares directed her way. Even the guards working in the kitchen were sneering at her. She was only allowed out of her cell for meals and brief exercise, and the hateful looks the other prisoners gave her left no doubt that they knew who she was.
It had once been her greatest fear, being assigned to duty in one of the prisons. The mediocre warriors became prison guards, the ones who could barely pass training.
The only thing worse was being an inmate. That ranked at number one on the embarrassment scale.
Long wooden tables made up the eating area, with inmates sitting on the benches. The room was a square gray box with no windows, and guards at each wall. Iria sat alone, a few seats down from a loud group of women.
She’d only managed a few bites of the oats, but she pushed them away. She’d barely eaten anything since arriving at Central Prison a week ago. The food wasn’t particularly good, but mostly, it was hard to eat with her stomach twisted into knots.
A guard at the door shouted for them to finish. Two minutes until they would be marched back to their cells.
Iria grabbed her bowl and walked to the trash cans outside the kitchen. She scraped what was left of her breakfast into the trash and deposited her bowl and spoon in the bin for dirty dishes.
“What’s wrong?” A guard stood just outside the kitchen door, her arms crossed over her chest. “You don’t like it?” She gestured to the discarded oatmeal.
“I’m just not hungry,” Iria mumbled. She turned away.
A hand roughly grabbed the back of her shirt. She yelped as she flew backward into the chest of the guard. The guard clapped a
hand over Iria’s mouth.
Fear raced up her spine as the woman dragged her into the kitchen, letting the door swing closed behind them. It was forbidden for the guards to harm prisoners, except in self-defense.
It seemed she was the exception.
Iria twisted against the arms locked around her waist, but the woman held firm, swinging them both around to face into the kitchen. Three other guards stood there, all men. The one directly in front of her sneered.
“The famous Iria Ubino,” he said. His front tooth was chipped, and in any other situation, she might have found it hard not to laugh when he spoke. Today, the pure hatred in his eyes was anything but funny. “Is it true you marched with the Leran king to Royal City?”
She just stared at him, because there was still a hand over her mouth. Everyone knew the answer to that question.
The guard took a step closer to her, spitting on the ground near her feet. “If you love Lera and the Ruined so much, they should have punished you like one. They execute people for treason.”
Outside the door, Iria heard the scuffle of feet as the prisoners moved to pile their trays and go back to their cells. The chipped-tooth guard held out a hand. The man next to him put a huge butcher’s knife in it.
Iria screamed against the hand over her mouth. She tried to flail out her arms, but another guard joined the woman, holding her wrists tight against her body.
The man held the knife directly in front of her face. “You shouldn’t come in the kitchen, you know. Accidents happen here.”
He hurled the knife at the ground.
Iria screamed as pain exploded through her right foot. The world turned black.
Iria woke up in a white room. It smelled like disinfectant, and when she turned she found a long row of beds. Her body was heavy, her head swimming. Dull pain pulsed from her right foot.
A man leaned over the woman in the bed next to her. He caught Iria watching and straightened.
“What . . .” It was hard to form words.
“I gave you something for the pain,” the man said, walking to her bed. “Had to take your toes off, but you kept most of the foot. If you change the bandages regularly and keep it clean, should stay that way.”
Panic shot down her spine, clearing her head. Most? She kept most of her foot?
She lifted her head. Dizziness crashed over her, but she squinted at the end of the bed anyway. Her foot was wrapped in white bandages. She couldn’t see it.
“You’ll walk with a limp, but it’s not like you’re going anywhere.” The doctor chuckled. “Certainly won’t be running away.”
Iria let her head drop back on the pillow as tears welled in her eyes.
TWELVE
“GALO!”
Galo turned to see Violet racing down the hall, her dark hair flying behind her. She grabbed him by the arm.
“Come with me,” she said.
“What?” he asked, breaking into a jog. “Is Cas all right?”
“He’s fine. It’s Jovita.”
The name sent a spark of terror down Galo’s spine. He’d wondered often in the past few weeks if he should have killed Jovita when it was obvious Cas wouldn’t. She had pulled the rug out from under them so easily in the fortress, when she’d convinced everyone that Cas was insane and then poisoned him. It was impressive, in a horrifying way, and Galo dreaded what she’d do next.
Violet stopped in front of Cas’s office, knocking once before opening the door and stepping inside. Cas was alone, sitting at his desk, and he let out a sigh when he caught the look on Violet’s face. He was no stranger to bad news these days.
“We have reports that Jovita and her loyalists were seen in Olso,” Violet said.
Galo blinked, surprised, but Cas didn’t look the least bit alarmed.
“We already knew that, didn’t we?” Cas said. “Last we heard she was headed for the border.”
“Yes, but there’s more. She was joined by Vallos soldiers. We’re getting word that the Olso army is organizing, and bringing in troops from Jovita and Vallos to launch an attack.”
“Vallos might support Jovita on the throne, but Olso would have no interest in helping her retake Lera,” Galo said.
“No, they wouldn’t,” Violet said. “They may be coming for us, but we think King August wants the Ruined gone as much as Jovita does. They’re probably partnering to attack them first.”
Galo winced. It was a smart plan, unfortunately. August and Jovita would have a much easier time taking Lera if the Ruined were gone. They could fight among themselves later.
“They’re still in Olso right now?” Cas asked.
“Last we heard.” She gestured to Galo. “I thought we should have Galo take the news to the Ruined right away. I know we haven’t made a decision about Em’s request, but this seems more pressing.”
“I agree,” Cas said. He looked at Galo. “Can you leave right away?”
“Of course.”
“Good. In the meantime, I want more soldiers at the border. I need to know the minute they cross into Lera, and the size of their army.”
Galo hurried out of the office and headed to his room. He had a bag packed and ready to go, and he grabbed it, along with his jacket.
He ran down the castle hallway, his bag swinging against his back. He stepped around a few staff members as he sprinted through the kitchen and outside.
Mateo stood just next to the kitchen door, on duty and dressed in his guard’s uniform. His face fell when he spotted Galo. He knew Galo would never disturb him while he was working, unless it was important.
“I’m being sent right now,” Galo said breathlessly.
“What? Why?”
“There’s been a development.” He wasn’t sure how much he was allowed to tell Mateo, so he left it at that.
“You’re going right this minute? We can’t even talk about it?” Mateo asked, his brow furrowed in frustration.
“There isn’t anything to talk about. I need to—”
“I talked to some of the guards, and a few of them are willing to go,” Mateo cut in. “There is no good reason for you to—”
“There is a perfectly good reason,” Galo interrupted. Angry words boiled up inside him, and he took a step back. “I can’t argue about this right now. They’re waiting for me.” He turned on his heel. Mateo called his name, but he wasn’t allowed to leave his post while on duty. Galo walked faster.
Outside, two soldiers were on horseback, prepared to escort him part of the way. They’d saddled a horse for him as well, and he quickly attached his bag to the saddle and climbed on.
“Let’s go,” he said, turning the horse away from the castle.
They rode east for several hours, until they reached the spot on Em’s map where she said Galo should go by foot. He dismounted his horse and waved good-bye to the soldiers as they rode back in the direction of Royal City.
According to Em’s map, he was about an hour’s walk from Westhaven, and he hiked slowly through the tall grass, keeping a close watch on his surroundings.
He found the area where he was supposed to wait, in a thick patch of trees, not far from a small stream. Em had written on the back of the map that she’d hidden a sleeping bag beneath a rock, and he found it easily. He pulled it out and plunked down on top of it.
The sun was sinking low in the sky, and it was quiet except for the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. He hadn’t been alone in so long—since before becoming a guard—that the quiet immediately caused panic to well up inside him. Maybe Mateo had been right. It was stupid to run straight into danger when he’d just escaped it. Surely there was someone else who could have done this?
It was too late to go back now, but he certainly could have left things better with Mateo. He should have at least hugged him before he left. If Olivia took Galo’s head off, Mateo would remember Galo’s being a jerk the last time he saw him.
He’d been running through all the things he should have said to Mateo for an hour when he heard
the sound of footsteps. It was almost dark, but he leaned over to try to see through the trees. Aren. He recognized the broad shoulders and long, quick strides right away. Galo had spent a lot of time watching Aren when he was a guard in the castle. He’d always seemed off, and Galo had spent a lot of time trying to figure out why.
Aren ducked his head under a branch. Surprise lit up his face when he spotted Galo. “You’re here.”
“I’m here. Just for the last hour or so.”
Aren walked closer to him, sliding his hands into his pockets. Galo sometimes forgot how good-looking Aren was, and instead only remembered him suggesting Galo had done a terrible job guarding Cas. But he really was handsome, with his intense dark eyes and a smile that suggested he was far more innocent than he really was.
“Was the trip all right?” Aren asked. “No problems?” His smile faded quickly, and Galo realized Aren seemed exhausted. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his frame was thinner than last time he’d seen him.
“No problems,” he said.
Aren stood there awkwardly for a moment, like he was searching for something to say. “Thank you. For offering to do this,” he finally said quietly.
He sounded sincere, and Galo felt a tinge of guilt for second-guessing his decision to come. “Don’t thank me,” he mumbled.
“Why not?”
He just shrugged.
“I heard you quit the guard,” Aren said. “To come here?”
“No, I’d already quit.”
“Oh. Why?”
“It was the right thing to do.” He looked up at Aren, not trying to hide the edge in his voice. “You said it yourself, I wasn’t doing a very good job.”
“When did I say that?”
“In Vallos.”
Aren cocked his head, thinking. “Right. You didn’t quit because of what I said, did you?”
“Don’t give yourself so much credit.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. No one could have protected Cas from what happened. It’s a miracle he’s alive, actually.”
He eyed Aren warily, unsure how to react to that. This was the longest conversation they’d ever had, and it wasn’t going at all how he thought. “You meant it, a little,” he countered.