“Godsdamnit, Lyr!” Tristan eyed the glass nervously from his peripheral vision, and his breath caught. “I’m telling you the truth. She was in there. I saw her. One of the vorakh is questioning Galen now, reading his mind. They’re torturing him, trying to get as much information as they can,” he spoke quickly, his words rushed. “And when Jules was brought in, the Emperor was furious. Her visions weren’t detailed enough, or accurate enough for him, or something. I’m trying to remember. She said she knew the Emperor would die this year, but not when.”
I gasped, “What else?”
“He was mad Jules hadn’t known it was today that he’d die, I think, or mad she hadn’t seen more, or knew more? I don’t fucking know. But he … he hurt her. And I don’t think it was the first time.” He froze. “He looked like he was going to …” Tristan looked green. “But he pushed her in front of Galen with the mind reader questioning him. She was supposed to use her vorakh, I guess to see what else would happen.”
I tried to listen, to understand everything he was saying, and everything he wasn’t saying. But all I could think about was the fact Tristan had seen Jules. He had actually seen her. And that Kormac had hurt her. He fucking hurt her. I already knew he had. He’d hinted as much over the years. Brockton had confirmed it. So had my visions of her. But hearing it from Tristan, hearing it was happening now, in the Palace, in the fucking building I was in at this very moment—my decision was made.
“Lyr,” Rhyan said, a warning note in his voice. “Lyr. Wait. We need to think this through first. We need more details.”
“Rhyan, no.” My entire body went still. Even my heart felt like it had stopped beating. “We’re not doing this again. Jules is here. Right now! And for the first time, we have a way to get to her. We know exactly where she is.”
“What about—?” His jaw tensed. “What we originally came here to do?”
Steal Ereshya’s shard. And hand it over to his father.
I shook my head. “Fuck it.”
Rhyan’s lips quirked, and he nodded.
“Does this mean you’ll help me?” Tristan asked. “Get Galen and Jules? And the others, if they’re willing?”
“You have my word. Because of Lyr. I swear to you, I’ll do all I can to get Galen out. And the others,” Rhyan said. “But you need to know right now, our priority is Jules. And Jules alone. And mine? It’s Lyriana. If anything happens to her, or this turns into a trick at any point, I will kill you. We do this, and then your men better be fucking ready to cover our backs.”
“They will,” Tristan said.
“Now you swear,” Rhyan said, one eyebrow furrowed in concentration. “Convince me we’re on the same side.”
Tristan groaned. “Be fucking serious, Hart. What the hell else can I give you now? It’s not like I have time to convince you, or anything I can hand over.”
“Then think very fucking fast,” Rhyan snarled.
“Rhyan!” I warned. I didn’t care if he fully trusted Tristan or not. I did. I could see the change in him. I could feel it. He was telling the truth.
“Partner, just … wait,” Rhyan ordered. “Let him prove himself to me.”
A minute passed, and Tristan began to grow more agitated. Finally, he shook his head, like he’d given up. “Fine. You want proof. Proof I’m on your side. That I’m with you? That I’m one of you? I’m …” He slammed his mouth shut, and almost looked like he was swallowing bile. Then his nostrils flared, his face filled with determination. “I’m vorakh,” he said, his voice trembling. “I’m vorakh, Rhyan. Like you.” He took a deep breath. “Okay? Me, too. And you ... You’re the first person I’ve ever told.”
Rhyan blinked rapidly, just as I yelled out.
“What?” I looked Tristan up and down as if I’d see physical proof. “No. But you …? Which one? Since when?”
He looked absolutely miserable, his shoulders slouched forward into the most un-Tristan-like posture I’d ever seen. “The worst of the three.” His voice was hushed. “The worst for me.”
Because his parents had been murdered, torn apart. By a vorakh. By one in particular. “Visions?” I asked.
Tristan nodded. “It started a few weeks after you left. I don’t know. It just happened. And I can’t make it stop. And now, Gods, Lyr, I’ve seen what I’ve done. And I … we need to get Galen out. And Jules, and everyone else we can. But now! We’re running out of time.”
“I believe him, Rhyan,” I said. “We know all we can. Enough of this. We know the room, we know the blueprint. We’re going.”
Rhyan nodded slowly, his nostrils flaring. “Partner. Do me one more favor first?”
I eyed him carefully, on edge. He was my soulmate, and he had just asked me to marry him, and I wanted to say yes, as impossible as it seemed. But I hadn’t forgotten our argument that first night in Seathorne—at his suspicions of our enemies manipulating me with Jules. I knew he was still considering that idea, wondering if Tristan was doing the same.
Rhyan stepped forward, slowly looking me up and down. “I want you to pick up that glass again for me. And hand him back his stave. I assume we’ll need to appear bound for this plan? To come as captives to the Emperor? Go ahead.” He held up his hands. “Use a glamour and fashion some ropes for me.” He snarled, “You dare to bind me for real, and she cuts you.”
“Deal,” Tristan said without hesitation.
I nodded to Rhyan and handed Tristan his stave, holding the glass shard to his neck.
