Heat pricks behind my eyes as I look back up at him. ‘I don’t deserve you.’
‘Sure you do, Rosey.’ He slips his hand around my neck and plants a gentle kiss on my lips before breaking away. ‘You deserve the entire fucking kingdom.’ A tear slips down my cheek as he steps away. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll make sure nothing happens to Acacia.’
I nod, hating the lump that has reformed in my throat. ‘I have some friends … friends in the High Hold. They should be coming to get her, to take care of her, but if they don’t … if she’s alone…’ I can’t even finish that sentence, let alone finish that thought.
‘She will never be alone, Rose. I promise you that. If they don’t come, she’ll move in with us. She’ll have to sleep next to my ma with her snoring, but she’ll be fine. Don’t worry. We’ll sort it.’ As his eyes catch mine, a glint flickers within them. ‘Oh, and don’t worry. I won’t tell her what happened in the tannery.’ He winks.
A laugh chokes from my throat as I reach out and thump him on the arm again.
‘You better not!’ I grin at him, though instead of his smile widening at the memory, the way mine did, his face falls. For the first time I can ever remember, Ruben looks at me with an expression of pure seriousness.
‘Give them hell, Rose,’ he says. ‘You deserve that gifting. Go get it.’
‘I plan on it.’
He hesitates. ‘The flame bead. Give it a little squeeze before you throw it. Just to make sure it works properly.’
‘Thanks,’ I tell him again, wondering how the hell he got his hands on it in the first place. But I don’t ask him. Instead, I simply watch him walk away.
Kay is awake when I return inside, her cheeks once again glistening with tears.
‘Please, Kay.’ I kneel down beside her. ‘No more tears. Not now. Let’s not spend our last hours together like this.’
She sniffs. It’s such a simple action, yet it somehow transforms her from a beautiful young woman into my fragile little sister, someone I would give my life to protect. Which, I guess, is exactly what I’m about to do.
‘We have some time, right? Can you tell me some stories? Stories of before?’ Her voice cracks as she whispers to me. ‘Tell me about when we all had magic?’
‘We have time,’ I reply softly. Precious little, but time enough for her. Always for her. I sit next to her, put an arm around her shoulders, and start to talk of better times.
This is what I wanted,right? A flicker of doubt fills me as I walk towards the sixth ring, and a desperate urge to turn around and run back to Kay nearly overtakes me. She offered me Mother’s ring to bring with me as a memento, but I don’t need tokens. I carry everything inside me already. Still, I barely made it two steps from the front door before my own tears fell.
I keep moving forward. I have no choice now.
‘One of us!’ a voice calls out. I turn to the side to see a man in ragged clothes, his hand raised in salute. I wave my hand briefly in response, onlyfor the same thing to happen a few steps later.
‘One of us!’
‘Go give ’em hell!’
‘You’ve got this!’
Their words bolster me. Iamone of them. And when I win this, I will give back to them in the way they deserve.
I’m still in the outer ring when a carriage draws up behind me.
‘You the Rettling from the slums?’ the driver asks, his eyes fixed on the large bags slung over my shoulders. ‘The flower?’
‘Yes. Rose, Rose Kultavaris,’ I tell him.
His lips part to reveal a near-toothless smile. ‘Hop on. Only going as far as fourth, but we can pick you up another ride there.’
He reaches down and offers me a hand, exposing a tattoo on his wrist. A tendril of smoke, almost identical to Peter’s. It’s not a particularly bad design, but I’m surprised to see it replicated so closely. One of the tattoo artist’s favourite designs, perhaps?
The chants of ‘one of us’ follow me all the way into the fifth ring, and I am both bemused and heartened by all the support.
Just as he promised, when the driver reaches the fourth ring, he secures me a lift through the next few gates, though I’m back in the back this time, bouncing on the hard wooden bed alongside crates of pears. It’s tempting to take one or more and slip them into my pocket – after all, these are headed to the High Hold, to people who have likely never felt a rumbling stomach, let alone pure starvation – but I’ve got this far in life without stealing food and I’m not going to start now.
The walls of the High Hold tower above the lower city rings, masking all inside it besides the tips of the highest turrets of the palace. Foreboding. That’s one word that springs to mind. Corrupt, malignant, and dangerous are others.
