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CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

ALIE

Never underestimate the loyalty of a once-kicked dog.

—Rouskan proverb

F or two days after finding the Fount piece, Alie hid in her room.

It was a rather childish way to deal with it, she had to admit.

The Fount piece and ring she hid in the very bottom of her unmentionables drawer, tucked into a corner behind a froth of lace.

Apollius knew what had happened, certainly, and surely He would be able to figure out that she was the one who’d stolen the ring and found the broken piece.

She knew that bloodcoats and builders had been dispatched to clear the area, to stabilize the street and make sure no other tunnels were in danger of caving in.

Apollius had to know the reason, and now He would deal with her, kill her and wring out her power like water from laundry regardless of Jax’s protection.

She’d considered leaving, chartering a carriage or stealing a horse.

But the only landlocked direction to go if she wanted to stay out of the Empire was Caldien, and she’d be caught in no time, with the added complication of trying to come up with an excuse for why she’d run in the first place.

Ratharc was an option, if she managed to steal onto a boat, but it would make the journey back to the Mount double.

Bri’s family’s ship was on loan, apparently, expected back in three days, and then Bri assured her she could use it for whatever she needed.

Three days to hide, like a rabbit with a wolf at the door, and then she could escape, head to the Mount, follow the pull of the stone in her underthings drawer.

If Apollius would wait that long.

But as the hours ticked by, as Alie watched them go with a churning stomach and a cup of tea gone cold, the god in the body of the Sainted King never sent for her.

Jax did, though.

It was the evening of the second day when his letter arrived, slid neatly beneath her door, white paper and black ink written over in a strong, slashing hand.

We need to choose flowers, apparently. Meet me in the south gardens at sunset?

She could feign a headache, say she was too tired. But Alie’s skin itched with the anticipation of being found out, and she dashed off a confirmation before she could talk herself out of it.

Maybe Apollius was too distracted to put the pieces together. Maybe He wasn’t as smart as Alie gave Him credit for. Either way, the best strategy for casting off suspicion was not to act suspicious.

When the sun began to sink, Alie dressed and made her way down the turret, out toward the southern green.

The entire green was filled with flowers, really, but the eastern side—opposite the walled garden with the well that led into the catacombs—had the most variety.

The Arceneauxs loved their roses, and most of the green was covered in them, but the southeastern corner was full of crocuses and lilies and ranunculus, nightshade and hemlock and hellebore.

A delicate fence surrounded the flower garden, ostensibly to keep people away from the poisonous blooms, though Alie had never known the gate to be locked, and plenty of poison flowers grew unfettered inside the Citadel.

Jax stood just inside the gate, his shoulders tense and his hands clasped behind his back. He turned long before he could have seen her coming, as if listening closely to her footsteps, attuned to her movements.

Alie’s palms were sweaty. She wiped them on her skirt.

When she first came up with the plan to move their wedding date, it had been in abstract, something to occupy Apollius and make Him think she’d given up.

Now that the new date loomed, she felt nearly dizzy with the weight of it, even though she planned to be gone as soon as Bri’s ship was in the harbor.

All of this was theater, still. And she just had to keep acting.

Alexis stood with Jax, something that made her both immensely relieved and slightly worried. The new Priest Exalted gave her a pointed look as she unlatched the gate. They must have something to tell her.

She didn’t hold out much hope for it being anything good.

Jax waved a hand at Alexis. “Repeat those suggestions for Alienor, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” Alexis turned, walking through the garden, gesturing to flowers as they passed. “Auverrani weddings generally follow the language of flowers when choosing a bouquet. Lilies are popular, as they represent purity and fertility…”

Alie pulled a face.

“… and daffodils mean new beginnings, so they feature often…”

“I thought maybe it would make more sense the second time,” Jax muttered.

Her lip tried to twitch upward. She fought it back down. Alie had thought that Jax’s dour look meant something was happening with Bastian and Apollius, or that he knew she’d taken the shard. But it seemed like her betrothed was anxious over wedding flowers.

That shouldn’t be endearing.

Alexis finished their brief lesson in a rush, then turned to Alie expectantly. “So what do you think, my lady?”

“Lilies,” she said, mostly because it was the first thing they’d listed and therefore at the top of her mind. “Um, roses. Daffodils sound good, too.” She looked to Jax. “Do you have any suggestions?”

“All of this is for you.” There was a softness to his expression. “I’ll do whatever you like.”

A slight smile tugged at her mouth. She bit down, hard.

Alexis nodded, heading toward the gate. They gave Alie that pointed look again, and she nodded, slightly. She needed to stay in the garden long enough for Alexis to tell her whatever news they had.

She expected Jax to leave as soon as the business with the flowers was done. But he lingered, trepidation in his posture. Her anxiety swelled up again, the tide of it covering her like a shoreline.

“Once we’re married, I’m sending you to Laerdas.”

Of all the things she thought he might say, that one hadn’t occurred to her. “What?”

“You’ll be safer there.” He spoke in a rush, like he wanted to get all of this out of his mouth before he was somehow overheard. “The situation here is… volatile. And I don’t want you caught in it.”

Alie gaped at him. “So you’re just going to send me countries away?”

“I want to keep you with me.” She wasn’t prepared for that tenderness. It made heat rush to her face. “But I want to keep you safe more.”

Bleeding God.

“Why?” She didn’t look right at him, eyes on the lilies waving in the soft breeze instead. “You barely know me, why care so much about my safety? Because I’m the key to you having a legitimate claim on Auverraine? Because of my god-affliction?”

“No.” He sounded slightly offended. “Because you’ll be my wife. My responsibility.” He paused. “Because I care about you.”

Gods dead and dying .

Alie sighed. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Clearly, he didn’t expect her to capitulate so easily.

“Yes, fine.” There was no point in arguing. She planned to be long gone before he could send her to Laerdas or anywhere else.

He nodded, relief clear on his normally stoic face. Jax lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Good.” Then he was gone, slipping through the gate, headed back to the Citadel.

Alie closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Went to find Alexis.

The acting Priest Exalted hadn’t gone far. They stood near the Citadel Wall, arms crossed and foot tapping. “Took you long enough.”

“I have to act like I tolerate him.” Alie chose not to interrogate why that brought a new wave of blood to her already-blushing face. “What happened?”

“War is coming,” Alexis said simply.

She frowned. “We knew that—”

“Alie, the Caldienan navy is sailing on Auverraine as we speak.” Alexis sounded dispassionate, but their pulse beat so hard Alie could see it in their neck.

“I heard from my contact. Power in the Rotunda has changed hands. They’re coming, and Gabe and Malcolm are coming with them, to get rid of Jax and stop the Empire. ”

Stop the Empire sounded good. Get rid of Jax made her stomach knot. Alie nodded, palms going sweaty again. “This is what we wanted.”

“Yes.” Alexis sounded as unsure as she felt.

Alie took her leave without saying goodbye.

But she didn’t even make it into the Citadel before she was stopped again, this time by a bloodcoat she didn’t recognize at the door. He angled his bayonet in front of her, blocking her entry.

“Excuse me?” She had no time for this.

The bloodcoat was unfazed by her rudeness. “You’re to go to the royal apartments,” he said. “King’s orders.”

As he spoke, two more bloodcoats approached from behind, boxing her in.

Here we go , Alie thought.

In the back of her mind, an anxious gust of chill wind.

They didn’t lead her like a prisoner. That was reassuring, she supposed. The two bloodcoats casually walked her up the turret.

The bloodcoats opened Bastian’s door. Alie stepped over the threshold. They didn’t follow her, closing the door with a sound like a sepulcher. Leaving her alone with the god wearing her half brother’s body, seated at the edge of the fountain in the middle of his solarium.

He looked… haggard. That was the best way to describe it.

Still handsome, because it was apparently an impossibility for Bastian not to look handsome, but exhausted, as if he’d spent the time he should be sleeping running miles from some unknown assailant.

For a moment, Alie thought maybe it really was Bastian, that his exhausted appearance meant he’d finally tamped down Apollius and regained control for good.

But when He looked up, His eyes were golden.

Alie stood as tall as she could, chin tipped up, hands in fists by her sides. “You called?”

A wine goblet was clutched in His hand. Apollius took a long drink, bloodshot eyes closing. He set the goblet down forcefully, swallowed hard. “Let’s stop dancing around this.”

Her clenched fists shook, just a little.

“You have something that belongs to Me.”

“We’ve established that Lereal’s power doesn’t belong to You.”

“Not that,” Apollius sneered. “The shard, Alienor.”

Her stomach bottomed out.

Apollius gave her a sardonic look. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to kill you. Not unless you make Me.”

“That’s less than comforting,” Alie murmured. “Not that You look strong enough for murder, frankly. What happened? Did Bastian make a break for it again?”

“I have the situation well in hand.” And despite how awful He looked, Apollius smiled, and she believed Him. “Deepest apologies.”

He was weak, but He was still in control. And it seemed He didn’t mind the weakness.

It was almost more terrifying than if He’d been in full, resplendent power. That would at least make sense.

“I won’t give it to You,” Alie said. She didn’t specify whether she spoke of Lereal’s magic or the piece of the Fount. The statement covered both.

Apollius rolled His eyes. “You think you moved in secrecy? I knew you would look for the shard eventually. There is no one I trust enough to send after it, and even if you were to die in a trap of My making, I would get your power out of it. It was easier to let you find the piece and bring it to Me than it was to go Myself, what with certain… difficulties.”

Here was the plan, then. Why He’d kept her alive so long. But far from cowing her, the knowledge made Alie stand up straighter. “So Bastian is giving You a run for Your money.”

The god narrowed His eyes and didn’t respond to that. “We’ve found ourselves at the end of your overlong rope, sister . It’s time to give them both up, the power and the piece. They’ll do nothing for you.”

“They don’t have to,” Alie snarled. “It’s enough that You don’t have them.”

“Fierce little thing. Not like the Arceneauxs. They’re cowards, you know. They were then, and they are now. Afraid of losing power, afraid of dying, afraid of what comes after.”

“Bastian isn’t afraid of You.”

A sneering smile. “He should be. Something is coming that should scare him far worse than anything I’ve put him through so far.”

Her heartbeat thrummed just a little faster.

Ponderously, Apollius stood, as if Bastian’s bones had grown too brittle to support the weight of two souls fighting over one body. He lurched toward her on weak legs, still imposing even now, and Alie took a step back before she could stop herself.

“I grow tired of this, Alienor,” Apollius said.

She lurched backward as He came toward her, her fumbling hand finding the door.

Locked from the outside, but still she tugged at it, calling threads of wind to pick at the mechanism.

“You can give them up and live, or you can give them up and die. Whichever you choose has little consequence to Me.”

He was close enough to touch her. Alie’s wind threads unlatched something within the lock, and it gave with a click. She turned the knob without looking behind her, losing her balance.

But someone was standing at the door, working the lock from the other side, and strong arms caught her before she hit the tiles. Alie looked up into the furious face of Jax Andronicus.

“Jax,” Apollius said, as if he were a friend dropping in to a tea party. “Nice of you to join us.”

Jax helped her up gently. His hands left her as soon as Alie was upright. “Is there a reason You’re intimidating my betrothed?” His voice was a low hiss.

Apollius waved a hand. Bastian’s body was too tired to make it look carefree and nonchalant; it staggered through the air like something shot. “Your betrothed has something of Mine.”

“You said there was a way to get it back without violence.” Jax was just as tall as Bastian; Apollius couldn’t loom over him quite as well as He could Alie. “You said she would be safe.”

“And she will be,” Apollius growled, “if she gives me back what is fucking Mine .”

“It’s not Yours,” Alie said quietly. “Never was.”

The god whirled on her, nearly stumbling on Bastian’s tired legs. “I have been infinitely patient with you, Alienor, but now—”

His words cut off, strangled. Apollius lurched a step forward, then fell to His knees, gagging. Something spilled from His mouth.

A torrent of crystal-clear water, pooling on the floor, glimmering gold at the edges. Just for a moment, then it was gone, evanescing into the air.

And Apollius laughed. Booming and joyful, His head falling to the floor as if He’d finally laid down some heavy burden.

He looked up.

Not Apollius. Bastian.

Bastian, and his eyes were dark and wild, panic written across his face. “Something happened.”

“I’d say.” But Jax was arrested in motion, staring at where that pool of water had been.

“Lore is in danger,” Bastian said. “Something happened, the sea is gone.”