Page 58

I steer his chin back to face me. “You’re uncertain too.”

“If they do that to him,” he murmurs, “what will they do to you?”

My stomach clenches. I see the crowds in the grand luminarium courtyard waiting for the judge’s verdict. See a blood-stained scaffold, the glint of a sharp blade. See my family lined up behind me, sacks over their faces, smaller ones for my nieces. I can hear their panicked little cries. My limbs shake violently. Silvius sends his aklo away with a directive and pulls me into a firm hold. His fingers caress my hair; the shoulder of his cloak absorbs my fretful breaths. It’s the kind of comfort I’ve always wanted but never thought I’d get—soft, patient, safe. Yet the absence of cool command... I shake that off. That’s definitely not missing. “River is loyal to me, and he’s indebted to you for saving him. He’ll confess on your behalf—”

I jerk out of his arms.

His expression is pained. “River has no family...”

I scrub my palms over my face, trying to rid myself of the image of my bawling nieces. I pace from wall to window.

I halt. “If Megaera doesn’t recognise me... If River doesn’t use my real name... if he says Calix Solin is at fault...” Hope pummels through me. “Calix doesn’t have family either. We’d only need a way to get through vetting...” He must have ways. He managed to get me a soldad... “Could you...?”

“Pulling such strings will get more people into trouble.” Silvius steers me to the bed and sits me down. He kneels, steadying me with a coaxing voice. It’s kindness I’m unused to—such a stark difference from Quin’s sharp commands and analysing stares. I wonder which I need more. “It’ll getyouinto the worst kind.”

“I can’t let River die for me.” I laugh. “Why are we tormenting ourselves? Poison Halting Miracleworks.” I stand, and Silvius hauls me back down.

“Wait here.” And with a swish of his cloak, he’s gone.

* * *

I pace, searching the streets below for any sign of Silvius or his aklo. One hour passes, two. The market swells with basket-carrying aklas and elegantly dressed eparchs and eparchesses; servers scurry around with roast chicken and wine; someone nearby plays a flute. The melody stops abruptly and four redcloaks part the crowds, pulling someone behind them with bright magic knotted at their wrists.

The captive stumbles forward and I clutch the window frame.Akilah.But her face... so swollen on one side.

My heart hammers. I hurry downstairs, out into the noisy street, and push my way through sweaty crowds. The redcloaks turn the corner, towards the luminarium, and with panicked steps I chase after them. “Ilios—”

She whips her head round but doesn’t spot me; onlookers scatter as she’s hauled up the steps into the judicial courtyard.

The magic around her wrists uncurls and whips the backs of her legs, forcing her to her knees between another kneeling boy and crimson skirts. River. Megaera. The redcloaks take their places either side of the judge’s table and stare blankly forward.

Megaera glares at the bruised figures next to her. She doesn’t see through Akilah’s disguise—she doesn’t know her enough to spot any clues. Megaera’s voice is cold, livid as she demands justice. There’s a fire in her eyes that promises the heavens—her father—that she’ll get it.

I race forward only to be stopped by an invisible barrier controlling the crowd. I call out, but my cracked words are unheard over the judge’s magically amplified voice.

He addresses River while gesturing to Akilah—Ilios. “Is this who asked you to deliver the spell?”

I shake my head. River barely hesitates; he nods.

Akilah speaks, her male voice throaty. “I gave it to him.”

A knot tightens in my chest; I shove against the barrier again, and the zap sizzles through my veins, numbing my magic. “No.” My croaked outrage merges with the shocked gasps of excited onlookers.

“How do you know my father? Why would you send him—why would youkillhim?”

“He was kind to me once, when I was in need. I wanted to repay the favour. The spell should have cured him.”

Akilah, what are you doing?

Her head turns as if she’s heard my thought. Her eyes pin mine. Beneath her determination not to implicate me, any of my family, I see the flash of fear.

She lifts her head and swiftly continues, “I am solely responsible.”

At Akilah’s confession, a storm brews in Megaera’s eyes. Her shoulders tense, and her fists clench as if struggling to hold in her anger.

My own fingers press against the barrier harder. I wish I could break through, accept the blame for this grief. Energy hisses at my skin, and still I press against the sting. “Megaera, don’t—”

My words are choked, barely audible even to myself.