He weighed the cost of effort to get Nathaniel back right now against the fight he knew they were heading into with their push toward the palace. He wasn’t sure if Caris could set fire to the city, and if she couldn’t, then that responsibility would fall on him. If that was the case, then he needed to conserve his strength until his body fought off the poison.
TheKlovodtook advantage of his hesitation and Caris’ refusal to allow harm to come to Nathaniel. He snapped his wand toward them, magic cascading out of the clarion crystal, the sheer force behind the spell like a bomb that sent them all flying.
Soren crashed into the wall behind him, the weakened wood breaking. He fell to the damaged floor of the jail, entire body aching, head reeling. He coughed through the dust his landing sent into the air. Training got him back to his feet, shaky though his balance was, the poison theKlovodhad created a bit more insidious than he was expecting. But he was still breathing, sight was still functioning, and his thoughts were clear enough that Soren focused on the others rather than himself.
“Caris!” Blaine cried out.
Soren stumbled out of the jail, finding the forecourt empty of theKlovodand Nathaniel. The Royal Guard was scattered from the hit, some of the soldiers picking themselves up while a few appeared to be unconscious. Blaine was on his feet, crouched beside Caris’ limp form. Soren hurried over to them.
“She’s alive, just dazed,” Blaine told him when Soren knelt on her other side.
Caris’ eyelids fluttered before finally opening, gaze not quite focused. Soren ran his fingers over her skull and discovered a patch of bloody hair near the crown of it. Caris flinched away from his touch, curling in on herself.
“Concussion, maybe,” Soren said.
“Nathaniel?” Caris rasped.
“TheKlovodtook him.”
Soren curled his hand beneath her head and assisted Blaine in helping her up. Caris sat hunched between them, breathing heavily through her gas mask. Her brass goggles were askew, and Soren hesitated a moment before he removed them, along with her gas mask. The veil she wore beneath them showcased a face that wasn’t hers. Caris fumbled at the metal clasp around her throat, managing to undo it and tear the veil off. The blonde hair and green eyes disappeared, revealing a face that Soren could admit shared features with his own.
Her gray eyes met his own, watery with tears, but her jaw was set in a stubborn way. “We’re going after Nathaniel.”
“Caris,” Blaine said tightly. “We need to get you to the palace. You need to put out the North Star’s decree and end this war.”
“Claiming the starfire throne won’t end the war. Bringing two countries together won’t be fixed in a day. But my parents aredead, and I won’t lose Nathaniel how I’ve lost them.”
Her voice cracked when she spoke, gaze flickering over Soren’s shoulder at the jail behind them. “TheKlovodmentioned Eimarille. Odds are he might return to her with Nathaniel to lure you in.”
“We don’t know that for certain,” Blaine said.
“She’ll be in the palace,” Caris muttered. She patted at the belt of her borrowed uniform until she found the travel pouch connected there. She withdrew from it a wad of paper that unfolded into a map of Amari. “But we need to know where Nathaniel is.”
Soren watched as she spread the map between her legs, hunching over it. She unhooked a thin gold necklace, a tangle of pendants, a ring, and a shard of clarion crystal hanging from the chain. Caris clenched it in one hand, letting it hang over the map. Only when the clarion crystal jerked at the end and pulled on the chain of its own accord did Soren realize what he was looking at. “Who gave you a spelled map?”
“Your people did.”
“They put a clarion crystal shard in Nathaniel’s chest in case he became arionetkaagain so we could find him,” Blaine said.
The crystal pointed at a spot several streets from their location. TheKlovodhadn’t made it far with Nathaniel, but reaching them would be a problem if they didn’t take extreme measures. The number of security checkpoints between them and the palace would impede their progress, but Soren was prepared to burn the city down if need be.
“Can you call your husband? Get him to bomb the area north of the palace?” Soren asked.
“He’s an aeronaut, not a military officer. The airship might have different orders,” Blaine warned, though he still took out his televox.
Maurus jogged over to them, gas mask and brass goggles still in place. “We have a truck ready for transport. It’s out on the street and missed being damaged.”
Soren offered Caris his hand. “Let’s go.”
She took it, the gold chain pressed between their palms, reminding him of the vow Vanya had given him. Caris clutched the map to her chest as Soren helped her toward the street while Blaine pleaded with his husband for aerial support.
“Did you burn them?” Caris asked in a low voice, staring straight ahead. “My parents? Did you burn them?”
“To ash,” Soren said quietly.
Her lips trembled when he glanced at her, eyes wide and wet as tears trickled down her cheeks. “Thank you.”
Her voice came out small and grieved, full of a pain Soren would never know because tithes never had parents growing up. “The dead are my duty. The living must be yours.”
