She eyed the empty space over my shoulders. “Much better. Maybe next we’ll work on winnowing away that giant ego of yours, too.”
With that, she stormed forward.
Be grateful she’s alive, Jessiah. Only yesterday, you missed those sassy remarks of hers, remember?
I’d already forgotten why.
But I followed after her anyway.
A mile later, life erupted around us.
A type of life, at least. It was nothing like life back in Scarlata.
Though there were hundreds of citizens lining the main streets of the kingdom, every one of them wore ragged, dirty clothing. Fires were lit here and there, surrounded by elderly fae, who warmed their hands around the glowing embers. Garbage and waste crunched under our feet, and children cried out.
Why the hells were there so many people out at this time of night?
So much for sneaking around.
The smell was overwhelming. My senses were heightened because of my angel blood, but even Rummy scrunched her nose. On the air, the scents of rot, death, decay were pungent.
I’d smelt it before. In The Golden City.
Without hesitation, Rummy crept forward, scanning our surroundings, taking it all in.
I had to fight the urge to reach out. To slip my hand in hers. To pull her body closer and shield her as the streets grew more crowded.
Once we reached the wide main street that led to the castle, Rummy stopped dead in her tracks.
I caught up to her, bumping my shoulder against hers, stiffening when I caught sight of what she was staring at.
The entire street was crawling with… with…
Impoverished was too kind a word to describe the status of these people. They were angry. Starving. Sick. Calling out for help. Some of them begged for coin. Most rushed forward toward the castle gates.
As if the castle would help them.
“Is this the rebellion he’s talking about?” I asked. “His own people destitute and starving?”
We had seen the same type of people on our way into town. They didn’t look dangerous. They looked defeated and ill.
Rummy looked up at me, her dark eyes shadows under the hood that covered her blonde braid. “This doesn’t seem like much of a rebellion to me,” she replied. “Just people in need of help.”
Across the way, a large tent had been set up between two crumbling buildings. The main flap of the tent was being held open by a rope, allowing us to see inside. A desk sat in the middle, illuminated by a lantern set on top of it. There, a woman sat, her focus fixed on something in front of her.
Recognition hit me, and a shot of adrenaline worked its way through me.
It was the healer.
The woman who had come to us when Rummy needed help.
My feet were moving toward her before I could stop them.
“Follow me.”
I strode for the tent, weaving through the angry, bustling crowd.
“Hey!” Rummy whisper-yelled from behind me. “Where are you going?”
