“The guards have been taken care of?” Jamir asked.
“Of course,” Janson said.
It took all of Amryn’s willpower not to look back at the staircase they were leaving behind. She tried to reach out with her empathic sense to feel if Carver was close, but the overwhelming emotions of those around her—rebels and prisoners alike—made her dizzy. She quickly pulled the bloodstone’s shield back around herself.
Tension stiffened her spine, the whisper of her dress and the thudding of boots drowned out by the roar in her ears. The walls of the prison were an effective cage. She was trapped. Surrounded by rebels, with only locked doors around her, there was nowhere to run. But the moment an opportunity arose, she would not hesitate. If she was taken from here, she could end up anywhere in Craethen. She knew Carver would never stop searching for her, but the chances of him finding her would not be good.
Her thumb traced over the band of the ring Carver had given her. She refused to be taken.
They paused at a door, which the rebel in front stepped forward to unlock. Metal clinked as he sifted through the ring of keys, searching for the correct one.
“Don’t look so forlorn,” Jamir said.
Amryn looked at Jayveh’s uncle.
His eyes were too intent as he watched her, the quirk of his lips an unmistakable taunt. “It’s an honor to meet the Rowan,” he said. “Few get the chance. Even fewer see beneath the mask.”
“But you have,” Amryn guessed, holding his stare.
Jamir grinned slowly. “I have.”
A shiver ran down her body. Saints, they’d horribly underestimated this man.
“I don’t think the Rowan would appreciate how flippantly you share your knowledge of his identity,” Chancellor Janson said sternly.
Jamir bristled. “Doyouknow his identity?”
“No,” Janson said simply.
Hinges groaned as the heavy door swung open. Amryn held her breath, half-hoping there would be guards on the other side. But there was no one. Disappointment hit, but she was also grateful. She didn’t want anyone else to die tonight.
The corridor sloped upward until they hit a staircase. As they began to climb, Jamir’s breaths became wheezing. The weeks of inactivity as a prisoner had clearly left a mark on the former king of Xerra. “The Rowan better have a bloody good plan,” he grumbled tersely. “I’ll be a wanted man. I’ve lost my throne, no thanks to him!”
Janson’s tone was mild. “Your own foolishness cost you your throne.”
Jamir’s hands fisted at his sides. “How dare you speak—”
“I know of your abuse against your wards,” Janson cut in, his anger unfeigned. He was truly disgusted with the man walking before him. “Your niece betrayed the Rising because of how you treated her and her brothers. If you hadn’t poisoned heragainst you, she would have joined the cause freely. The Rowan is perfectly aware of this fact. If you were not one of his more valued assets, you would have been left to rot in your cell.”
Jamir scoffed. “He’s only freeing me because he fears what I have the power to reveal.”
Janson did not disagree.
Jamir’s labored breaths filled the air, but he still asked, “How are we getting off the palace grounds?”
“The prison’s private entrance is close to the west gate,” Janson explained. “A wagon will be waiting in the alleyway to smuggle us out of the city.”
Jamir grunted, but didn’t ask for further details.
Amryn wondered if she should. The chances of Jamir telling her where they planned to meet the Rowan were slim, but if she could help lead Keats to the leader of the Rising, surely that would ensure full pardons for Rix and Torin. But Janson was already suspicious of her. She didn’t think it would be wise to press her luck any further. Already, the man was sticking close to her. She knew she’d only get one chance to run. One wrong move, and she would brand herself a traitor in the eyes of the rebels. They might decide to kill her, rather than let her escape.
They reached the top of the stairs and entered another sloping corridor. A wide door waited at the end.
“We will move quickly and silently,” Janson said, with a pointed look at King Jamir. “Our way should be clear, but only for a little while longer.”
The door was already unlocked. The rebel in front merely pushed it open. The silvery moonlight was almost too bright after spending so much time in the shadowed prison. Amryn blinked rapidly, shuffling forward with the others, one hand fisted in her skirt to keep from tripping.
Alarm rushed in when she spotted four guards stationed outside. She nearly cried out a warning, but the lack of violence on all sides made it clear they were with the Rising as well. Her anxiety spiked. Now there wereninerebels she needed to somehow escape from.
