We don’t say anything, and when Slade continues to stand here and stare at him, Wick shifts on his feet. “I wouldn’t put Auren at risk.”
“No,Iwouldn’t put Auren at risk,” Slade states evenly, his tone blunt and low. His protectiveness reared its head when I first explained everything that happened, and it’s baring its teeth now. “You are a rebel leader whose cause has outweighed all else and whose choices have indeed put her at risk. Multiple times.”
Wick’s brown gaze flicks to me, and I can see hints of guilt there. “The Vulmin cause is indeed my driving force. But I have also done my best to protect her.”
“Which is why you’re still breathing.”
Slade says it so matter-of-factly that, somehow, it makes the statement all the more of a threat. The tension between the two of them mounts as I look between them. Slade’s shoulders are stiff, his eyes hard, and Wick looks like he’s expecting Slade to lash out at him any second.
“Alright,” I say, breaking the silence. “I have questions that I want the answers to, so lead the way.”
Wick glances at me, losing some of his tension, before he gives a stiff nod and turns. Slade and I look at each other, and I squeeze his hand in reassurance. Then we follow Wick as he takes us across the room, to a doorway that leads to a set of winding stairs.
I notice his bare wrist as we start to climb. “You got that magical cuff off?” I ask. “The one that dampens magic?”
He looks over his shoulder at me with a nod. “Yeah. One of the other Vulmin was able to.”
“Good. What is it anyway?”
“I don’t know. We’re going to try to do some tests on it to figure it out. But for now, I found another use for it.”
I eye him curiously, but he doesn’t divulge further. We reach the top of the stairs, which brings us to a big loft-styleroom that looks over an open space below. I can see a dozen Vulmin down there, around what seems to be an area for packing different herbs and spices.
“This has been a Vulmin building for years,” Wick explains as we grip the railing to look below. “No one in the city has ever caught us, because the spices and herb repository has always been legitimate. But we’ve held many meetings here and housed extra Vulmin, and even smuggled Oreans out, having them pretend to be workers taking shipments outside the capital.”
The fact that Oreans had to be smuggled out in the first place makes me furious.
Instead of leading us down the open stairwell that would take us to the drying and packing area below, Wick takes us to the left of the landing, where a set of doors are. He opens up the first and leads us inside to a small but clean office and sitting room.
There’s a table and chairs littered around, with incredibly detailed maps hung up on every inch of wall space. The sole window in this room is round and slightly bigger than my head. It domes out from the wall, which I suspect offers better angles for viewing the street below.
“Please, sit,” Wick says, and he waits for Slade and me to take a seat before he does too.
For a moment, he looks at me, as if he doesn’t know where to begin. “You’re alright?”
My head tips. “I’m alright.”
“And you remember?”
I glance over at Slade before answering. “Yes.”
Wick lets out a breath, and I take the chance to really study him. His sleek black hair is flopped over to one side like always, exposing the shaved sides while the long ends brush down to his shoulder. I can see splotches of bruises along his jaw andbeneath each of his eyes, and I wonder if he holds even more marks under his clothes.
“I’m so sorry. About Ludogar,” I say thickly. The flash of memory of the blue-haired fae dying in the palace’s courtyard haunts me. The way his body jolted. The way his blood poured out.
Wick flinches, and I know the loss is still incredibly fresh and painful. He trusted Ludo above all others. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his throat bobbing. “He was a good Vulmin and an even better friend. He will be greatly missed.”
“Too many have died,” I reply. “But what you said—on the stage. About there being a better way. You meant that?”
His strong jaw locks in and he nods. “I did. The Vulmin want to get rid of the tyranny, but we don’t want to be tyrants in return. We want peace. We want to stop spilling fae and Orean blood.”
Relief fills my chest. “Good.”
We study each other in silence for a long moment until he finally lets out a tight sigh. “Go ahead, Auren. Ask.”
I look at him evenly, though tension aches along my shoulders. “You bled gold,” I say evenly.
“I did.”
