Page 17

My mouth went dry.War.

The other men in the tent stayed silent, their eyes moving expectantly to the ram’s head mask next to me. “Commander Summercut brought news.”

Summercut cleared his throat, his dark eyes stern as he looked at me. “By the time we left the throne room to come here, most of the fighting had cleared. Kauvras was retrieved by healers. He’s going to live.” I gave a small nod, swallowing hard at what that meant. “About half of the soldiers here in Taitha are loyal to you, and the other half to Kauvras. The problem is Kauvras’ side has control of the Vacants.” He paused, his lips pursed, poised to say something I knew wouldn’t be good news. “There are roughly ten thousand Vacants in Taitha as of now.”

The words hit my ears but made no sense in my brain. My mother was one of ten thousand. She was aVacant.“Ten thousand…” I murmured under my breath.

“They’re bringing in more everyday, from every major city on Astran, and he’s had eyes on Losenia for a while as well.”

Losenia. The continent across the sea. I knew absolutely nothing about it, aside from what little Wrena had told me. Allegedly, the whole reason Kauvras even started this sainthood bullshit was because of an issue with Nesan, Losenia’s westernmost country. He told people that the previous Cabillian king — King Divos — was sleeping with the Nesanian Queen, and that she was calling the shots on trade with Cabillia. But Wrena said that she heard rumors of a Nesanian man stealing away the woman Kauvras loved.

Either way, bullshit.

A hundred questions came to mind, but they halted as a dozen pairs of eyes bored into me. Something hung in the air, something thick and uncomfortable that made it harder to breathe. “What?” I asked Summercut.

A fine sheen of sweat had formed on his brow. “In the chaos of it all…” He took a deep breath. “Castemont took four guards and…he escaped. With a large supply of leechthorn.”

My brain went silent for a split second before my ears began to ring. Heescaped? My hands balled into fists at my sides, the pain of my blisters ignored, anger coursing through every vein in my body. Thebastard.I tried looking to Miles, to see if he’d come forward with his theory about Castemont’s true identity, but he remained silent.

“My best guess is he’s headed to Eserene.” Summercut continued. “He’s most likely making stops at any small village that Kauvras hasn’t hit yet to build up his own army of Vacants.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting to keep the anger at bay. “Are there even enough people left to make an army?”

Summercut’s head dipped into a slight nod. “Not as large an army as Kauvras’, but with the protection of Eserene’s walls…”

I stared at him blankly. “His own army. To fight…us.” The Saint of Pain leading a military? My stomach turned.

Summercut’s face was grave as he nodded. “Yes. And…King Belin is unaccounted for.”

I spun to Miles. “I thought you said your men got him out of the throne room?”

“They did get him out of the throne room,” Summercut answered.

“Out of the throne room to where? Where did they take him?”

Summercut pursed his lips. “They were given no orders past ensuring his safe exit from the throne room.”

A tiny crumb of hope broke off the despair that hung like a cloud over my mind. I wanted so desperately to ask about him, hoped in the deepest parts of my being that he was okay. I hated that I had hope, hated that I wanted to hear that he was safe. I railed against it, but it pinned me down, that tiny crumb stronger than the despair it had come from.

Hope was always dangerous. Hope was weakness. Hope was vulnerability.

“So he’s not in Taitha?” I asked, far too eagerly.

I felt Miles shift beside me as Summercut spoke. “Our fear is that Castemont took him.”

My heart dropped and I let my head drop with it, my shoulders straining. Did the Invisible King go willingly? He must have. He was in on…whateverthis was the whole time.

I tried to get a hold of every emotion that was bubbling up inside of me. My chest began to pound, heat rising quickly as my vision went red. I gulped in air, trying to quell the scorching heat, desperately needing to control it for fear I’d incinerate everyone in this tent.

And then I heard it. I heardher.“Petra,” Katia’s airy voice said. “Petra.” I fought for breath, the tent suddenly feeling too small, smothering me. “Not yet.”

I lowered my head, realizing the men had jumped back at the sight of my hands, the skin split and crackling like embers. “It burns,” I whispered, a tear falling from my cheek to my hand and fizzling into steam.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice echoing through my head, calm and urgent all at once. “We’ll need you soon. Not yet. Soon.”

I imagined the flames winking out, the last embers of a fire fading into nothing. I felt my hands cool before a different burn set in, my skin going raw with more blisters. My eyes met Summercut’s, and the voice that came from me was not mine — it was too stern, too weathered.

Nell’s words echoed in my head again. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was damn sure going to make it look like I did.