I rest my forehead against his. “It’s better for you to stay here, helping Zandy and Owen plan our next raid, our next move. You’re the best ally we have in that department. You know the city better than any of us. Even my sister can’t deny that.”
She tosses me a sharp look over her shoulder, and I laugh.
“I’ll do my best to be useful. But eventually, I’m going to have to face my mother and father again.”
“I know. It may be sooner than I’d like.”
We go quiet, leaning into each other while we watch Remy show Vivienne the basics of using a staff. She drops it the first few times—and to be fair, Remy is definitely not cutting her the slack he normally would a trainee—but she begins to pick it up faster than I expected.
“Maybe I should start training too,” Aro says. “Remy seems to be a good teacher.”
All I can see in that scenario is Remy having an excuse to hurt Aro. Though he’s agreed to leave Aro alone since harming him means harming me, if Remy got worked up enough, I don’t trust that he wouldn’t forget a little.
“If anyone trains you, it will be me,” I say. “We can start tomorrow.”
He grins, the same sort of charming, lopsided smile he used to give me back when we were just getting to know each other. A foolish flirtation that became something much, much more. That smile still makes butterflies shimmy in my stomach.
“I can’t wait,” he says.
Later that night, as dusk falls over the city with a hush, Remy, Vivienne, and I leave the lair. Remy insists on taking more precautions than necessary. He’s adamant Vivienne cannot know about the nature of my and Zandy’s magic yet. When it comes time to move the drainage tunnel cover so we can get to the streets, he insists on enveloping her in darkness so she can’t see me cast the spell.
“You’re a little too suspicious, Remy,” I tell him.
He scowls at me. “You can never be too suspicious when it comes to the Technos.”
I shake my head and let the tunnel cover rise up and settle next to the opening. Remy drops the darkening spell over Vivienne’s eyes, and we climb out. I go first, casting a cloaking spell over all of us and the opening. Anyone who passes by the alley won’t notice anything amiss.
We remain cloaked in magic as we hit the streets. Remy and I have changed our faces, and I’ve changed my hair color too, to ensure we won’t be recognized if we have to drop the shield to cast other spells. Vivienne keeps her cloak about her face, just to be safe.
Remy leads us to where Technocrat guards keep extra stores of weapons for the gates. The building is normally locked but not guarded, which makes it the perfect target for our purposes. Vivienne offered to come along and be a distraction if we need one. She’s always been as much of a flirt as Zandria, and bantering with the gate guards seems right up her alley. According to Aro, the gate guards don’t overlap with the dungeon guards—the latter are on a higher tier because of the greater importance of the prisoners—so no one ought to recognize her.
We may not need her as a lookout, but it’s good to have her with us if necessary. At the very least, she provides another set of arms to carry weapons back to our hideout.
We tread carefully, winding through back alleys and making false paths to ensure we’re not being followed. I’ve seen no sign of Darian since we returned to Palinor, a thing I’m rather grateful for. But I’m sure it won’t be long until we’re on his radar again. Tonight’s raid might be the thing that puts us there, if Vivienne’s rescue didn’t already.
Finally the guards’ storehouse comes into view: a nondescript brick building with metal window casings and a thick metal door. We hide around the corner from the building, watching it for a good ten minutes before making our move.
“All right,” Remy says. “There shouldn’t be anyone inside, and there’s no sign of anyone coming by soon, which all works in our favor. Vivienne, you will be posted here”—Remy draws a diagram of the guard building in the dirt—“to keep watch, just in case. Aissa and I will break into the storeroom and take as much as we can.”
Vivienne gives a curt nod, and within minutes we’re all in position. Remy specifically posted Vivienne facing away from the door so she can’t see me unlock it with my magic. Not that she’d be likely to anyway, since Remy is casting his shield spell over me while I work.
We slip into the storeroom, closing the door behind us. “Fiero,” I whisper, and light bursts in my palm. I flick my other wrist and the light floats up to hover in front of us. The room is packed wall to wall with swords, spears, and crossbows. We immediately begin picking out weapons and a few pieces of armor that might come in handy too. I pause when I hear the sound of voices outside. Vivienne’s laughter echoes back to my ears. She’s already working her wiles.
We need to hurry.
I’m almost done piling up as many weapons as I can carry when I notice that a high shelf in the back has more than just weapons on it. The glint of a little machine winks back at me, and I shudder.
My first terrified thought is that it’s a listening device, but it isn’t like any of the others I’ve seen. I wave a hand, casting a handspell to bring one toward me for closer examination. I pull the cover off the top of the square-shaped device and examine it in more detail. Inside is a mess of wires and a round metal-and-glass chamber filled with black powder.
My breath catches.
While I’ve never seen it before, I know what that powder means. This is an explosive device. A bomb. We didn’t delve deeply into that particular subject in school, but our parents once got hold of the blueprints for a bomb and made us memorize how they worked in case we ever needed to defuse one with our magic.
My skin crawls, and I resist the urge to toss the thing away; that would spell nothing good for us. I swallow hard instead and examine it. There are definitely no listening devices in here. This machine has one, sole function: to obliterate everything in its path.
“Remy,” I whisper. “Come here.”
He frowns at the device in my hands. “Is that . . . is that what I think it is?” He takes a step back.
“It’s a bomb. But it’s smaller than the ones they used to destroy the Magi cities. Though it can still do a lot of damage. We should take some of these.”
Remy recoils. “You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m serious. They won’t expect us to have these, to use them against them. It can work in our favor.”
“You want to bring one of their machines into our hideout?” Remy looks alarmed.
“It isn’t a listener. I checked. And there’s no timer on the bomb either. You set it by pressing this button here.” I point to the detonator. “I don’t know how many ticks it will give before exploding, but likely it’s between ten to twenty to give you time to get away.”
“I’m not getting anywhere near that thing. If you want to bring it back, that’s on you. But I’m telling you it’s a bad idea.”
“It’s coming with me. In fact, two of them are.” I weave my hands and lift a second device down off the high shelf. Then I gently set them both in my pack.
“What is—” The voice from behind us startles us, and we whirl around just in time to see a surprised guard’s face twist into anger.
And to then see Vivienne smash a brick across the back of his head.
The guard’s eyes roll back, and he crumples to the storeroom floor. My hands shake. I was too intrigued by the bomb. I didn’t even hear the guard open the door.
It’s a good thing Vivienne came with us after all.
She tosses the brick aside and brushes her hands on her trousers. “Sorry, I could only flirt with him for so long. He was determined to get a new sword. Kept saying his was dull.”
Remy gapes at her.
“Thanks for that,” I say.
She shrugs, then tugs at the guard’s arms to pull him away from the door. I shake off my shock and help her hide his unconscious form behind a row of lances.
“We should leave,�
�� I say. We have three leather sacks for the weapons, and we quickly finish filling them, then slip back out of the storeroom. We’re as careful as possible, but I have a nagging feeling that eyes watch us every step of the way. For all they can see, it’s just Vivienne, a lone girl walking through the alleyways of Palinor while Remy, me, and our new stash of weapons are safe under the cloaking spell.
Remy barely says a word as we head back to the tunnel entrance and descend into the darkness. I’m not sure if he’s angry with me for bringing back the bombs or just surprised Vivienne turned out to be useful.
Regardless, the darkness feels more welcoming to me than ever. We’ve always been safer here than in the light.
CHAPTER 26
AS PROMISED, ARO AND I BEGIN OUR SPARRING sessions the next day. We sift through the newly acquired stash to select our weapons. I’m both excited to train with Aro and a little nervous. I’m so used to sparring with people whose limits I know well, like Zandria and Remy—what if I push him too far? What if I accidentally hurt him? What if he hurts me?
He’s already wearing some Technocrat armor we took along with the weapons, a metal breastplate and guards for his shoulders and arms. I insisted he wear it, just to be safe. And so I don’t have an excuse to cut him any slack.
I’ve opted not to use any armor. The thought of encasing myself in metal again, even briefly and partially, is enough to make panic rise in my chest.
“Ready?” I ask.
His hand hovers over a finely crafted sword, then he picks it up, weighing it in his hand. “Yes, I believe I am.”
“Then let’s begin,” I say, picking up an identical sword. While I’ve practiced a bit on my own with my new short sword from the Sanctuary, I’m wary about using it with others. We’re still learning about the ancient Magi’s magic, and it might be more unpredictable than I expect.
We cross blades and begin to feint and parry around the room. He’s a much better swordsman than I expected.
“Who taught you to use a sword?” I know Aro was mentored by Leon and Darian when it came to machines, but he’s never spoken about this part of his life before.
An odd expression crosses his face. “My mother, actually.”
Our swords clang together as we strike, rattling my teeth. “Your mother? The queen bothered to learn how to fence?” I scoff. “That’s surprising, given she has the entire army at her disposal, not to mention her mech enhancements.”
“She wasn’t always the queen, you know.” Aro blocks my next attack. “But she’s always been ruthless. I suspect that’s why my father married her. She taught me, but mostly I trained with her guards. She knew the Heartless were considered weak. And she was determined no son of hers ever would be.”
I duck under his swinging sword, then spin around again to face him. “I’m loathe to admit it, but she trained you well.”
Aro laughs. “A fair concession. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Just don’t get too full of yourself.”
This time, I attack more aggressively, putting him on the defensive. He evades well and tumbles out of the way. But mid-tumble, I trip him, then pin him to the floor, my knee on his chest and blade at his throat.
We both breathe heavily, a shared laugh bubbling in our chests.
“Well played,” he whispers.
Then, without warning, Aro disarms me. Quick as a blink, he has me pinned to the floor instead. Our faces are so close together that his hair brushes over my cheek.
“My turn,” he says.
I kiss him softly, all the while weaving my fingers at my side. He rises into the air, limbs frozen, gasping with surprise. I scramble to my feet, then set him back on his.
“Now that’s cheating,” Aro says, laughing.
“No, that’s called an advantage.” I release him from the spell and he rubs his arms. “Shall we call it a draw?”
He moves closer and places his hands on my hips. “I think we’re quite evenly matched.” He smiles wryly. “Until you began cheating, of course.”
“I make no apology for using every weapon in my arsenal,” I say, looping my arms around his neck. This time our kisses are not so soft, but warm and urgent and deep. Magic tugs in my chest—the bond again—making me feel as if my whole body glows.
“Ahem,” Zandria coughs from the doorway, arms folded across her chest. “I thought you were training in here.”
Aro and I disentangle, but our hands remain entwined.
“We were,” I say, beaming at Aro. “He held his own.”
“I’m sure he did,” Zandria says, rolling her eyes. Owen appears behind her.
“Is the room taken?” he says. “We were going to work with some of the newer weapons. Including my code namesake.” He grins.
“We just finished,” I say, leading Aro away. I pause in the doorway, watching my sister with Owen for a few moments. He makes her laugh as she chooses her weapon, and she smiles with him in a way that feels warm and genuine.
It has been a very long time since I’ve seen a smile like that from her.
“Everything all right?” Aro asks.
“Yes, I think it is,” I say. My sister may have issues with me, and a history with Remy, but Owen is new. Literally so, in how cut off from the world his upbringing was. And while sometimes he seems much younger than us, he’s very rational, and capable of viewing scenarios objectively. Spending time with him might do my sister good in more ways than one.
Tonight it’s my turn to guard our base of operations while Zandria and Remy rescue another Magi from the Palace dungeons. I’ve spent most of the evening in the war room, hunched over Anassa’s journal. Deciphering it has become a fascinating trip into the past—and into a long-ago Alliance leader’s mind.
Anassa was smart and cunning, yet also compassionate enough to lead the Alchemist Alliance with a steady hand through very tumultuous times. She was funny too, and dearly loved her family. I’ve learned more about the Binding rite from her journal as well. She performed the rite with Lela; even then that was a taboo, though it was normal between Magi spouses. They didn’t tell anyone, including other Alliance members. But Anassa mentioned something I found interesting: the separation between partners. Lela hadn’t been able to join her on the first expedition to find the Sanctuary. They were apart for months, long enough that it became a physically painful thing for them both.
And when they were finally reunited, the bond’s magic ignited in much the same way it did for me and Aro.
The Binding rite is no joke. It makes each person one half of a whole, and prolonged separation can weaken them both. Once they realized this, they vowed to never be apart again.
For almost my entire life, I’ve considered my twin my other half. But now Aro is too. Another part of me I cannot live without.
I glance at Aro, on the other side of the table from me, hunched over a book about alchemicals Catoria lent him in much the same way I’ve been over the diary. A deep V forms over the bridge of his nose as he concentrates on the text. His long fingers drum a light rhythm on the table beside him, but he doesn’t seem to notice he’s doing it.
Something inside me swells, catching me off guard.
I don’t ever want to be separated from him again.
He notices me staring at him. “Is something wrong?” he asks, wiping his cheek distractedly, then considering his hand. “Is there ink on my face? These older books fade so easily.”
I smile. “No. You’re perfect.”
He ducks his head as Owen walks into the room. “Either of you up for some sparring?” he asks hopefully. “Being cooped up inside has me needing something more to take off the edge.”
“Weren’t you cooped up on a small island for years?” Aro says.
“I was free to roam wherever I wanted on it. Actively hiding and without nature around me is . . . stressful.” Owen shrugs. “Sparring helps.”
“I see,” Aro says. “I’m afraid I’m still recovering from my session with Aissa earlier
today.” His pale blue eyes twinkle in my direction.
“And I’m rather engrossed in this journal,” I say. “But it would be nice to spar another time.”
Owen sighs. “I understand. I wish Zandria were here. She always seems to be up for sparring no matter the time of day.”
I snort. “That does sound like my sister.”
Owen looks as if he’s about to leave the room, but then he stops and steps closer to me, puzzling at the book in my hands.
“Did you know the cover is coming off that book?” he says.
“What?” I say, turning the book over.
“Here,” he says. “In the corner. It’s worn thin and beginning to peel away. Maybe you can fix it with a spell? It’s clearly important; I’d hate to see it fall apart.”
I run a finger gently over the edge. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised after it was jostled in my pack for days on end while we traveled.” It might’ve withstood all the travel Anassa did, but that was back when it was newly made. Now it’s much older and more brittle.
Owen peers closer. “Wait a moment. Is that something tucked inside?”
I follow his gaze and suck my breath in sharply. I can just see the edge of a different, older parchment hidden between the leather cover and the board. Gingerly, I pull the leather back, revealing an ancient sheet of paper. Aro hurries to my other side. I spread the paper carefully on the table so as not to damage it. The page is covered in faded ancient runes. In some places, it’s so faded that I can’t make out the words at all. The bottom left-hand corner is missing, but when I double check the inside of the journal’s cover, I find no trace of it. It must have crumbled away long before it was hidden in this book.
“What do you think it is?” Owen breathes.
“Something important,” Aro says. “It must be to have been hidden away so carefully.”
I do my best to make out the runes at the top of the page. In the top right are runes in a different hand—Anassa’s. They’re more legible than the others.
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