A sconce on the wall by the door changes colors, momentarily breaking my focus. The knights at the perimeter of the room march to the door, each one falling in line and lockstep. The door opens, and three new knights march past them, taking their slots as the old leave.
None of them say anything. I almost wish they would and break me from these endless thoughts. I hang my head, balling my hands into fists and fighting a scream. How did it end up like this? Saipha and I were supposed to go to Mercy. I was going to find a way to help people. I’d learn things outside the wall for Mum. Father…
Father should still be here. My jaw pops as I grit my teeth.
The day drags on, with two more changeovers in my guard the only thing to break the monotony. I keep my head down and guide my thoughts toward what will come next. Tomorrow, they will convene the high curates and vicar to examine my actions, I suspect, probably here in Mercy. I’m already planning what I might say. Already sketching out my case in my mind that will speak to all the things I know the vicar wants to hear.
Make it through tomorrow, and I’m free.Sort of. Mercy will be its own confinement. And I’ll still be right in the vicar’s hands. But then he’ll never suspect me. I will have justice for Father and Saipha.
I’m so focused on my scheming that when the lights in theroom flicker, dimming just for a breath before going back to normal, I think I imagined it. Then, all three knights move, racing toward the cage. I leap to my feet.
Two knights move toward the cage door. There’s a jingle of keys in one of their hands. I back away, sinking into a crouch, ready to attack.
The third knight throws off his crimson hood, and our gazes lock as the door swings open.
“Lucan?” I breathe in confusion and relief. “How…”
“We’re getting you out of here,” he says calmly.
“Howare you here?” I manage to ask. Even if knights invited him to be a page, that wouldn’t begin until tomorrow—at the earliest. Saipha’s older sister didn’t start her duties as a page until four days after her Tribunal. Which, in retrospect, should’ve been a hint for us as to the extremes we might be pushed to.
But it’s easy to gloss over the bad when you’re just a girl with big dreams or bigger fears.
“We sneaked in,” Lucan answers.
“We?” I repeat. He keeps using that word.None of this is making any sense.
The one holding open the cage door lifts her head, and I recognize her as one of the twins who joined the Tribunal late. Something about them is different. They still have the same bruises, of course. But they’re standing…taller. More confident. Like it was all an act.
“I’m Myla, and this”—she nods to her twin—“is Ember. Good to see you.”
“Is it?” Ember mutters to her twin, lowering her hood as well.
I’m not sure if I’m more shocked that these are more words than I’ve ever heard them say in the monastery, or by the fact they’re here. Definitely the latter. I look between them. “You three have been here for over an hour, and you’rejust nowsaying something?”
“It wasn’t safe before,” Lucan says. “We had to wait for the signal.”
The signal must’ve been the flickering of the lights. Someone must’ve manipulated the artificer sigil that powers the lights. But whoever did it would have to possess an intimate knowledge of Mercy and a confident hand with sigils.
“It’s not really safe, even now.” Lucan steps inside the cage. “We need to move quickly. The Mercy Knights will be called to prayer soon before the night’s patrols. That’s our only chance.”
Prayer seems an obvious thing that would be done, but the inner workings and schedules of Mercy are a secret to all beyond. Not even Saipha knew. “How do you know that?”
“We have help on the inside.”
We. There it is again. Him and who else? Only the twins from the Undercrust? I shake my head slowly.
Lucan must mistake the movement for refusing his offer of freedom. “We’re getting you out, Isola.”
“You planned this,” I whisper, staring at him and only him even as I gesture to Myla and Ember. “How?”
“We’re ashborn, from beyond the wall,” Myla answers. “So is Dazni.”
I shake my head again. Harder this time. There haven’t been ashborn in Vinguard in centuries, at least none we’ve known of, and yet… I stare from one girl to the other. Ashborn are supposed to be monsters. Half-dragon abominations that are one step from walking corpses, according to the sketches and descriptions by the Creed and vicar. Or dead. But these girls are very much alive, and very normal looking. They’re a walking contradiction that, despite myself, I couldn’t be more curious about.
“We have to gonow,” Lucan says.
I stare at him, eyes wide, heart hammering. Lucan said he wasmade an orphan during that dragon attack. Did he lie to me?
