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Zuleeka drew a finger along the rim of her mug. “One of my rebel contacts inside Zalindov was under orders to protect Mother until we could rescue her. When the riot broke out, she hurried to the infirmary, but someone else beat her there. She saw the boy on the ground in a pool of blood, knew it was a mortal wound. But later she saw you running toward the front gate with him in your arms. She thought you were being sentimental, had no idea you were escaping with him in tow.” Zuleeka paused. “My spies at the palace confirmed the appearance of the kid, but they said he was perfectly healthy. It was easy enough for me to put two and two together.”

There was a lot to unpack there, but Kiva only asked, “Your contact inside — are you talking about Cresta Voss?”

Zuleeka nodded. “She’s doing great things for our cause, even behind those walls.”

“Pity she’s stuck in there until she dies,” Kiva muttered under her breath. She and Cresta had never seen eye to eye, despite her having saved the antagonistic quarrier’s life shortly after her arrival at Zalindov. “You know she hates me, right?” Kiva said, louder. “She threatened Tipp’s life, said she would kill him if I didn’t keep Mother alive.”

Zuleeka shrugged. “She didn’t know who you were. And she was just following orders.”

Kiva clenched her teeth. “I didn’t need the extra motivation. I never would have let Mother —” She broke off at the triumphant look on her sister’s face.

“Die?” Zuleeka offered. “You never would have let Motherdie?”

“Let’s move on,” Tor interjected before Kiva could raise another defense. He looked to her and said, “You have your answers, Mouse. Now —”

“Wait,” Kiva cut in. “The other night, you told me you came to rescue us.”

Tor nodded slowly. “I tried, yes. Until we were called back.”

“But what about this Galdric you mentioned? You said he wouldn’t let Mother risk any rebels coming to free me, so what made him change his mind?”

“He didn’t.” Tor’s face darkened with sorrow. “When Mother decided to go to Mirraven, she didn’t tell anyone. She took off in the night, leaving only a short note explaining where she was going, and why. From what we’ve managed to piece together, Galdric was the first to realize she was gone, and he went after her, probably trying to stop her. But he — he never came back. All we found was his cloak, covered in blood.” Tor’s throat bobbed. “Too much blood.”

Kiva sat back. “You think — shekilledhim?”

Tor looked down at his hands. “She wasn’t in her right mind, toward the end.”

That was all he said. But Kiva heard the heartache in every word, enough to know Galdric had meant a lot to her brother, and Tilda’s actions, unwitting or not, had caused him deep pain.

She reached for his hand and wound their fingers together, offering the only comfort she could. And then she recalled what he’d said — that she had her answers now, even if she didn’t like what she’d heard.

“Thank you,” she said to them both, barely recognizing her own voice. “For telling me.”

Zuleeka avoided her eyes, but at least Kiva now understood why her sister seemed to hate her so much.

She blamed Kiva for their mother’s death.

It was unfair, but Kiva knew grief made people do, think, and say things they otherwise wouldn’t. She also knew there was no point in trying to convince Zuleeka that she’d had no control over Tilda’s actions — nor would she have endorsed them if given the choice.

“It’s your turn now,” Tor said, pulling Kiva from her dejected thoughts. “What’s going on with your magic? Tell us everything.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Kiva took her time explaining about her uncontrolled magic bursts and her fears of it happening around the royals. When she was done, silence fell in the command tent as her siblings considered her troubles.

“Did Mother ever mention anything like this happening to her?” Kiva asked. “She spent years repressing her magic. If this is a side effect of that —”

“She didn’t repress it,” Tor said. When Kiva made to argue, he went on, “She just hid it from the rest of us. Even from Father.”

“Little magics, she called it,” Zuleeka said, her earlier antagonism having faded as she’d listened to Kiva, as if releasing her anger had eased something inside her. Now there was only a thoughtful expression on her face, no sneer in sight. “When she started strengthening her power to help our cause, she told us she’d been using it all along, just in small ways. A bruise here, a scratch there, always when we were asleep or distracted. She said she’d never been able to stop entirely, that the magic in her wouldn’t allow itself to be silenced.”

Kiva rubbed her forehead. “If that’s true, how was I able to silence mine for a decade?”

“Perhaps your magic is weaker than hers was?” Tor suggested.

Zuleeka’s eyes were calculating. “Or stronger. There was a reason she thought you should be her heir.”

There was a bitter note in Zuleeka’s voice that Kiva carefully ignored.