‘I told you something didn’t feel right.’
‘I should have listened. Should have noticed something amiss. I’ve been so distracted with…’They break off.‘Can you summon starshine? Force the lock?’
The room’s still spinning, my head splintering with pain, as I try to will a spark from my palms. It’s not the first time I’ve called on my magic, but this feels strange. Wrong. Like a betrayal. It’s useless, anyway. My arms are ragged husks, the muscles stretched and spent. I flop back and stare up at the cracks webbing the ceiling.
‘Return to Meissa. Inform my father. He’ll send troops.’
There’s a pause.‘I can’t.’
I sit up, weathering the giddy rush of blood to my throbbing head.
‘My Aether is too low. I lied to you before, about where I went after delivering the Kingswrit to the Arx Magnum. I didn’t spend that time in the Hill Country– I tried to return to Nimbi, to replenish my heartcrystal.’Orthriel sighs.‘I couldn’t get there, had to turn back. The effort left me weaker than ever. I hoped you wouldn’t need to find out. Felt sure my reserves would last till we crossed into the peaks and I could perform the necessary rites, absorb a measure of Aether from the starstone tincture. Restore myself that way.’Orthriel’s quiet for a long moment.‘I’ve failed you.’
‘You haven’t.’But even as I say the words, the last scrap of hope slips through my fingers.
My pack. Where is it? I scan the room, overturn the cushions on a pair of threadbare armchairs ranged before a hearth, yank open the carved doors of a wardrobe, crouch down to check beneath the bed. The tincture. The mooncrystal. Both gone. My hand flies to my throat and my breath hitches as I knead the dip between my collarbones, plumbing the hollow where the starstone ought to hang. They’ve taken everything. I scrabble in the concealed pocket of my skirts and breathe a ragged sigh of relief as my fingers curl around the sharp corner of Noelani’s letter.
Almost everything.
I turn to the window. My gaze drifts to the city walls, a sourness twisting my gut as I remember those gibbet cages strung along the city walls like beads in a macabre necklace.
I grip the heavy velvet drapes to stop my fingers from shaking.‘See if you can learn where they’re taking the others.’My throat tightens as their faces swim before me – a silent procession that settles on the image of Blayze, on his golden eyes, his infuriating smirk.
‘I’ll do what I can,’Orthriel says. There’s a grim finality to their words.
The air shimmers once more, and I’m alone.
I have to do something. Have to get out of here. Crossing back to the door, I beat against it, fingers splayed, scratching at the wood.
This time, the lock turns with a heavy clank.
The door creaks inwards, revealing the Arx Magnum flanked by two armed guards. That oily smile bleeds onto his face again.
‘Good evening,’ he says, as if simply there to escort me to dinner.
‘What do you mean by locking me up? Where are my companions? When my father learns about th—’
‘Fret not, Princess. I’ll tell the King myself. All in good time.’ His smile broadens. ‘After certain avenues have been explored to my satisfaction, I’ll be dispatching riders to Meissa. They’ll carry letters explaining his heir is my hostage.’
The Arx Magnum steps inside my chamber, runs a battle-scarred finger along the mantle above the hearth, grimacing at the dust.
‘Unless your father disbands this travesty of an alliance and executes the Outrealmers as the filthy traitors they are, there’ll be fresh mutiny. He won’t accede of course, won’t suffer the challenge to his authority, and that’s when the fun begins… The mountains won’t stand for it.’
The Arx Magnum isn’t smiling anymore. His face is cragged rock: hard and sharp and unyielding.
‘So, it was all a lie – everything you said about forgetting the past?’
He scoffs. ‘Rumours have reached us of the sumptuary laws, of the way your father treats the air-refugees – like scum beneath his boots, when we’re the ones on the frontline, burning our dead in their hundreds and thousands, starving and suffocating as our crops fail, and the air thins and chokes. All while he swans around his fine palace, pretending none of it is happening. He doesn’t care if the rest of the realm falls, so long as his own walls stand.’
His words slice like shards of ice. The worst of it is, I know he speaks the truth.
The Arx Magnum bends close, his breath warm on my face.
‘Ever since the last uprising, I’ve been searching for a cause the Highlanders could unite behind, an excuse to sack the Crystal City and seize power. To do what should have been done long ago: invade the enemy realms. Make no mistake, war is coming and Estelia must be first to strike.’
He draws back, sits heavily in one of the shabby armchairs before the empty hearth. I consider running him through with the poker lying beside it, but the guards standing sentinel in the doorway stay my hand.
‘Do you know how many fever victims sylvanmare blood could save? How much energy emberwing fire-feathers could generate? With enough of them, we could heat our frozen cities…’ The Arx Magnum tents his fingers. ‘Yes, I’ve been searching for a cause for a long, long time, and you’ve given me the perfect one. Thank you for that.’ The Arx Magnum’s voice is sugared again, the razor smile creeping back over his face.
