Renly nods solemnly. “I live next to it.”
My eyes narrow. “What?”
“Right next to the two mountains behind it.”
“Hold on…” I suddenly can’t hear anyone around us having background conversations. “Renly, you’re from the Chandelier City?”
He shakes his head. “No. I’m from the Naiadales.”
“The Emerald Lake ancient colony?”
Renly nods. And abruptly, I realize why his face looks so familiar to me. Why I’ve been drawn to protect him the moment I was thrown in this penitentiary.
“What is your father’s name?”
I hold my breath.
“Rydran.” The young boy looks away sadly. “I think he’ll come for me too.”
The wet leaves he put on my burns. Golden hair braided down his back. Vines and moss covering his dark skin. Rydran. He stayed by my bedside while I recovered. He took care of me and is the entire reason I didn’t go completely insane from the intense pain of those burns.
Rydran told Ruth that one day, I’d help relieve his pain just as much as he’s relieved mine, according to their prophecy.
Renly is Rydran’s little boy, and he’s a captive in fuckingVexamenduring its worst, most barbarous years.
“I know your father,” I utter to this sweet, brave boy in disbelief.
“You do?!”
Determination fills my blood in a spike of adrenaline so powerful, nothing on earth could stop me.
“I’m going to get you out of here, Ren Ren. I’m bringing you home to your dad.”
47. Wrong Place, Wrong Time
Sapphire
We are dumped into apile of snow in the North SapphrineForest.
Flecks of ice melt over my eyelids. Crunchy snow is mashed into my scalp. I blink sleepily at the pine trees crisscrossing over the winter sky.
Winter.
Ice.
Snow.
I’m barefoot, in a white patient gown. At least Niklaus has pants.
I hiss through clenched teeth and coil my sore, aching body into a tight ball as the snow melts into my back. Lifting my head, I hug my knees to my chest.
“H-h-holy shit…” I stammer. “I’m s-s-sorry. I—”
A cold hand covers my mouth. I look up at Niklaus, on his knees behind my head, eyes bolting from one side of the forest to the other. And I catch on that we are not alone.
My eyes follow his. To my left, there are men in dark camouflage clothing, blending into the bark of the pine trees. To my right, there are those that blend into the snow. They are everywhere, spying on someone. Or at least, theywerespying on someone. Slowly, they nudge each other, pointing us out. And Christ, there are so many of them. Twenty-five? Thirty?
My eyes water at the doom of it all. I just want this to be over. I’m so tired of fighting. So tired of running. Why must I keep traveling to places that put me in harm’s way? Why can’t we just go home?
