The guard was dying slowly, blood leaking from a stab wound in his side. But still he shook his head, refusing to answer.
Janson jerked his chin, and the nearest rebel kicked the man’s bleeding side.
He howled.
“Don’t hurt him!” Amryn cried, choking on the agony she felt from him.
Janson looked over his shoulder at her. “I know this is unpleasant, my lady, but he must tell us which key unlocks Jamir’s cell.”
Tears stung Amryn’s eyes. She was clinging to the protection of the bloodstone. Even though it couldn’t shield her from all the pain, it was the only thing that kepther from falling to the floor alongside the poor guard. Saints, she couldn’t afford to fall. She hadn’t been able to save the first guard, but she was determined to save this man’s life.
She stepped forward, her ballgown skimming the dirty floor of the prison corridor. Trembling, she lowered to her knees in front of the guard.
He was slumped against the wall. Sweat beaded his forehead, but he was shivering. He was young. Only a couple of years older than her, she guessed. He was terrified as he stared at her.
She blinked back the moisture in her eyes. “Please,” she whispered. “Tell me what key it is, and I promise you’ll live.”
His throat bobbed. “You’re . . . General Vincetti’s wife.”
It was a statement, and yet so many questions burned in his eyes. She didn’t have the time—or the ability—to answer them. “Yes,” she said. “I am. And I give you my word, they won’t hurt you anymore if you tell me which key unlocks Jamir’s cell.”
He grimaced as he gripped his wounded side.
Amryn glanced up at Janson. He and the other rebels were watching her closely. She held out her hand, silently asking for the keys.
Janson studied her for a too-long moment, making Amryn’s anxiety flare. Then he handed them over.
Her fingers closed around the heavy ring. It held a couple dozen keys at least. They were marked with colored thread, but otherwise looked identical to her.
She held them out to the guard, silently pleading with him.
His stuttered breaths filled the air as his hooded eyes searched hers. Her heart tripped when his mouth flattened. But then he reached out and touched a key with blue and white thread.
Relief spiraled through her. “Thank you,” she breathed. She pushed to her feet, her hand wrapped around the cold key. She faced Janson. “He won’t be harmed,” she said, doing her best to make the words an order. “My word will be upheld.”
Janson shot the guard a look. “As long as he remains silent, he may keep his life.” He grunted, then added under his breath, “What’s left of it.”
Amryn’s fingers clenched around the key in her hand. Because she knew just as well as Janson did that if the young guard didn’t receive help soon, he would die.
Janson waved a rebel forward, and the man took the keys from Amryn. As he darted into the cell-lined hall, Janson stepped closer to her. Voice low, he said, “A good strategy, my lady. Sometimes a softer hand yields greater results.” He held out his arm, as if they were at some courtly function. “Shall we?”
Feeling sick, Amryn took his arm and followed him deeper into the prison.
“You’re Bram’s superior,” she said quietly.
“Yes,” the chancellor confirmed. “I’m sorry for the last-minute changes tonight. But we all have our orders.”
Halfway down the corridor, they reached Jamir’s cell. The door was open, the rebel they’d sent ahead already inside. Janson made no move to enter the dimly lit cell. They stood together in the hall, hearing the soft murmur of voices and the clink of chains.
“I’m surprised it’s you,” Amryn admitted quietly. “You’re a chancellor. You’re one of the most powerful men in the empire.”
“Power isn’t everything.” A muscle in Janson’s cheek jumped. “Justice.Thatis what I want.” For the first time, Amryn felt the fury simmering inside him. The thick cloud of sadness that had always clung to him had hidden his anger well, but she had a feeling the rage had always been there. Low and banked, but potent enough that it had driven him to the point of treason. “The emperor gave power to corrupt men and women,” Janson said. “I’ve known that for a long time, even if I couldn’t prove it. But Carver and Berron helped make the connection with the Brotherhood. Finally, the guilty can rot in this prison for the rest of their lives.” He shook his head. “But it’s not enough. The emperor should have noticed what they were doing. He should have realized the type of people he’d elevated. People who didn’t care that they were doing something illegal, so long as they made a profit. My wife was killed by the poison they helped spread, and none of them cared. They whispered words of condolence to me whentheywere the ones responsible for her death.”
His hands curled into fists, rage overtaking any last semblance of the mild-mannered man Amryn had once known. “The only path to justice I could see was in taking away their power entirely—the emperor’s included. They’re all to blame. Whether they committed crimes or simply let them happen. And that’s exactly what the Rising wants to do. Until the emperor’s entire court falls, there will be no justice for my wife’s death.”
Movement drew their attention to the cell door. King Jamir blinked painfully against the light of the lantern. He looked more worn than the last time Amryn had seen him. His beard was overgrown and his hair disheveled. He was rubbing at his chafed wrists, his confusion palpable.
“Your Highness,” Janson greeted, his tone level.
