I shuddered, and bit back a surge of bitter envy.Gavin won.Of course I’d known he must, but still—the thought of my Relic around his neck brought bile to my throat.
“Listen, I don’t have much time to explain. I was attacked in the Oubliettes by a Red Mask. The only way he could have gotten past the Husterri with a weapon is if Gavin ordered it. We think Gavin is in league with Sainte Sauvage. Which means I’m not safe here anymore.”
Doubt chased shock across Lullaby’s face. “Why would Gavin want to kill you if he already won the Ordeals?”
“I believe he cheated in the first Ordeal. And I know he cheated in the third. He won’t want me around to taint his victory. And if he’s anything like the rest of my family … well, historically we haven’t been especially fond of loose ends.”
Lullaby nodded. “So you’re fleeing the city. Where?”
“Belsyre.”
“And you’re here because … ?”
“I’m not abandoning you again, not like last time,” I said fiercely. “You should come with us.”
Lullaby’s soft face gathered hard lines of resolve.
“I can do more here. I’ll let Dowser know where you went, and together we can plan for your return.”
“Return?” I swallowed against a sudden hot lump in my throat. “Lullaby, I might not be able to come back.”
“You’ll be back.”
I wasn’t sure I shared her certainty.
“What about you? Will you be safe?”
“Gavin’s not a monster—I doubt he’ll throw me in the dungeon just for being your friend.”
“But—”
“Go,” she insisted. “Get your man. Get your army. Then march back here and get your throne. We’ll be waiting for you.”
She stood, brusque, and crossed to her bed, reached under the mattress, and extricated a heavy purse filled with jewelry and money. Rings and necklaces and bronze écu and kembric livres. I shoved it back at her.
“I can’t take this.”
“You can.” Her mouth quirked up. “You can pay me back when you’re empress.”
“You’re a good friend.” I hugged her, tight. Unfamiliar words marched up my throat, hot and sharp and unexpected. I let myself speak them. “I love you, Lullaby Courbis.”
She cocked her head, surprised, then smiled bright as sunlight on water. “I love you too, Mirage Sabourin.”
She watched as we snuck from the room. And then it was just me and Luca and a glittering world full of empty promises and lurking danger.
My first trip to Belsyre had been inarguably unpleasant—I’d been racked with fever and chills as I detoxed from one of Oleander’sgentlerpoisons. My second had been little better—I’d been injured and exhausted, numb with grief and guilt after defeating my sister and losing Sunder and Lullaby to the Skyclad. My third journey to Belsyre did not buck the trend.
We never would have gotten out of the Amber City if Luca didn’t have contacts throughout the lower city. Soon after we left Lullaby’s chambers, it became clear the Husterri had abandoned their search in the Oubliettes and had begun looking for me elsewhere. The city was crawling with their vermilion uniforms, interspersed with massive street parties celebrating the victory of the true Sun Heir. My heart jolted more than once when my boot kicked against discarded moon emblems crumpled like trash in the street.
I wasDuskland Dauphineno more. I was nobody.
We quickly abandoned the main streets. Husterri were stopping people at random and demanding identification and avowals of belief and loyalty. Besides, the streets were too choked with passersby to stay invisible for long. We made our way to the Mews, where a warehouse comptroller with greedy eyes and unscrupulous morals accepted a priceless emerald necklace in exchange for false papers and the secret compartment in a smelly charcoal cart. We rattled beneath the gates, and as the city faded away a horrible sense of loss settled over me, as though I’d just sacrificed some part of myself that hadn’t been mine to give away. A bright, glittering spark—a shard of ambric in a diamond sky. A kembric dream of an impossible world. A promise of a perfect life I’d forged from the dristic of my will.
You’ll be back, Lullaby had promised. I hoped—hoped—she was right. I didn’t want this story to be over yet.
We crawled out of the charcoal cart at the next outpost, hours later. If Luca noticed the tear tracks cutting across my soot-blackened face, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he bartered for horses with an innkeeper in an unfamiliar dialect while I lingered in the shadows. The woman sensed our urgency, and charged us twice the going rate. We paid her triple and bought her silence as well as steeds.
We rode north.
