Page 16

I forced my lips to move. “I can’t be the king’s justice speaker, condemning you for coming through the Wall, when that might be my mother’s crime as well. I’d have to condemn her, and myself, by extension. My father, for keeping the secret.”

Kion never moved, but every muscle in his body grew taut before he said, “I thought I was condemned for being a rebel.”

“You are condemned for the information you hide. As I will be, if I’ve interrogated you.

” I stroked my hands through the cooling water, swirling the minty floral scents into the air, breathing them in to calm myself.

Thoughts raced, and I couldn’t slow them down.

I pushed through the water a second time, focused on the ripples.

“The crime,” I said, “is having forbidden knowledge during the time of a Malice Moon. Knowing the magic is too weak and men who hate us are slipping through. Men who once nearly destroyed…everything.”

Water swished in both tubs. The candles had wooden wicks that popped and crackled.

I listened to the sounds, pressed my toes against the tub; the surface was smooth metal covered with cloth, not as luxurious as the marble baths in the castle, with the wide steps and the waiting servants, and the girls with seductive magic.

They’d chatted about arousing the king or his companions, and the many times they’d been summoned to the bedchambers.

They shared their secrets on where to touch a man, how hard to squeeze or stroke, ways to use the tongue and mouth and breath…

and with sly smiles and soft laughter, they pretended I was one of them.

Pretended that I wouldn’t notice when the soaps they offered were unscented and the oils left a sticky sheen on my skin.

Now, I wondered if I’d blinded myself to the emptiness in my life. If I’d given too much of my trust to Tarian in exchange for his protection. Had it been worth it to escape a flogging? Nikki was still vulnerable, and I…

My heart thudded where it shouldn’t, trapped in my chest. I breathed through the fluttering sensations, gripping my thighs beneath the water, pushing at the tub with my toes.

“The memorial stone on the Plains of Celandine,” I said. “Did you know that person?”

“Yes.”

“How can you know someone who lived two hundred years ago?”

“I know…of him.”

I went back to swirling eddies with my hands. “Tell me about your family.”

“There’s no one left.”

“You have scars on your body. I’m sorry, because they mark a hard life. A dangerous life. ”

“No different from the scars you have on the inside, Senaria.”

“Aren’t you ever lonely?” I asked him. “Don’t you ever wish for…”

“No.” His thumb traced through the cooling bath water. “You can’t go back to Thales—you understand that, don’t you?”

I didn’t want him to be right, but I’d helped him escape, and a rebel had aided us—exactly the sort of evidence the red priests would use to condemn me if running from the mage falcons wasn’t enough.

I’d dashed with Kion across the ancient killing ground, hid in the trees.

I was still running with him. And if the King’s Guard found me with Kion Abaddon, here in the Black City, so close to the Wall—no defense would be accepted.

The guilt over Sevyn pressed like rocks on my chest, and I refused to add Kion to that weight.

Not if his crime was knowing the hidden truth that my father also discovered.

The Wall was weakening. The magic was fading.

And this prisoner should not return to Thales or face a corrupted justice meant to cover the truth with lies.

But there was no choice for me. The certainty was sharper than a thorn beneath my skin—I had to go back. I feared for Nikki more than I’d ever feared before, and I would not abandon my brother, no matter what the cost.

I would return to Thales alone. Tarian was a good man, a fair man.

He would listen to my confession. How I’d thrown myself overboard to escape a burning ship.

How I’d tried to bring the prisoner back but failed.

If I told him things I’d learned and offered ten more years of my life to prove my loyalty, Tarian might forgive me.

The pressure pounding in my head felt a lot like grief. Where nothing I’d done was right or honorable.

Or merciful.

Kion leaned back against the tub rim, his expression neutral. “What are you thinking?”

“I won’t leave Nikki in Thales alone.”

“I’ve told you before, no harm will come to your brother.”

“A comforting reassurance if you had such power.” My smile tugged on that sad promise, because we both understood a promise was all it was. “I release you, Kion Abaddon. You are no longer my prisoner. Safe journeys to wherever you wish to go.”

His wrists twitched. “I’m still in mage shackles.”

“I’m sure a man with your talent will find a mage powerful enough to remove them.”

“The red priests have proxies scouring the land for you,” he warned. “The falcons saw us together, running into the trees. It won’t be Thales where you’ll return.”

I refused to lower my gaze. “I’ll find a trading caravan in the morning. Blend in with them.”

Magic rippled through the chamber, soft but unnerving, while a light glittered in Kion’s eyes.

A striking, ruthless light that had me wary.

What was this man like without the mage shackles blunting him?

What was any man from the Faded Lands like, if they were so different from us?

No horns protruded from his head like the worst of the stories. Nothing there to hate, and yet …

The prickling on my skin had me quivering. “The bath has grown cold.”

I surged forward to grab a towel; it dragged through the water as I stood and wrapped myself. Stepping from the tub, I snatched the clean clothes and aimed for the door leading back into the bedchamber.

“When I get to Thales,” I said, “I’ll tell the king you disappeared into the desert. Thank you for…getting me this far.”

His silence had me pausing in the doorway and glancing back.

Nerves twisted.

Kion Abaddon lounged in the tub as if mulling over everything I’d said, and I threw him a bland smile. Let my magic flow one last time, wanting to stroke the rigid mental wall protecting his secrets, leave some part of me behind.

An answering heat shot from him and straight into my head.

He said, “Try not to die.”

My hand slid from holding the door. “The same for you, Angel of Death.”

I doubted he heard me over the sound of the slamming door. In the bedchamber, I dressed in the loose pants and shirt and crawled beneath the cold sheets and thick quilt.

I was determined to leave when I fell asleep, and when I woke in the morning, I was still determined. Except that the mage shackles were now locked around my wrists, humming with magic. A man stood near the foot of the bed. Tall, muscled. His hair was brown, matching his eyes—and he was familiar .

The rebel from the ship.

“You’d better hurry.” His smile was not friendly. “The Draakon is waiting.”