“To the palace forge,” I lie, meeting a gaze that shockingly churns with conflicted emotions instead of its usual apathy. “It’s been a while since I’ve hammered something.”
Silence builds between us as he stares at me, and when his eyes soften for the first time in a long time, I feelsomething. I feelhim.
“Sura.” His voice is soft, pleading, almost desperate.
My pulse stutters. “Yes?”
Gods, that fleeting look of devotion in those beautiful brown eyes is almost my undoing. His lips part, but nothing emerges. I can see the fight in his tortured gaze, and then his jaw goes rigid, his shoulders stiffening impossibly, until that cruel, damnable,hatedstare returns to his eyes. Refracted sunlight beams down on us from the stained-glass windows above, and for a moment, there’s the slightest glimmer of purplish fire, just as there had been that night in Coban.
“The guards will accompany you,” he says, signaling to a handful of soldiers behind him. “Don’t be too long, it will be dark soon.”
Heart sinking, I incline my head. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”
A muscle tightens in his jaw at the formal address, but then he stalks away, four of his kingsguard remaining behind. At least it’s not a dozen this time.
I stay there until the king and the rest of his entourage leave the courtyard. When she rides by, Clem’s helmed gaze meets mine. She lifts her hand in a tentative wave, but it hangs limply in midair and then falls when I don’t respond. It’s clear whose side she’s on, whose side she’s always been on.
Despite my outward show of obedience, I have no intention of following Roshan’s rules. If Helena’s magi can’t disable the cuffs, I’ve decided that I’ll sever them from my body myself; I’ll start with one hand and see what happens. It will be agony, but hopefully my magic will heal the worst of the wound and I’ll be free to escape.
I barely notice the beauty of the setting sun as I grab a water canteen and head for the forge. The ever-obedient quartet of guards follows in silence, even entering the building to check it before allowing me through. Then three take up position outside while one remains inside.
I roll my eyes.
“Are you here to make sure I don’t fling myself into the kiln?” I ask him sarcastically.
“King’s orders, my lady,” he says.
I snort and don a thick leather apron. “Suit yourself, but it will feel like an oven in here soon.”
Sure enough, after an hour or so, the small room is sweltering.
My hammering is a rhythmic clang that I keep measured and consistent—on purpose. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the guard’s head drooping in lassitude. The hammering and the heat used to work like a charm on Laleh, always making her nod off in the corner of my forge in Coban. I’m sweating from exertion and the high temperature, which I’ve kept hotter than normal, but the man is nearly asleep.
Good,I think with a grin, pausing to guzzle the water I’d brought.
I keep going, gradually starting to slow my rhythm. I continue, even when I hear the first snores. Finally, after a few more minutes of work, I stop and watch him carefully. His helm hides his eyes, but his neck is lolling forward, motionless. He’s out.
I don’t know how much time I have, so I shuck off the protective apron quietly and head to the back of the forge. I pump my fist in triumph when I find the metal trapdoor in the floor—most bigger forges have an underground shaft in case of a fire—and I drop down as silently as I can.
Within minutes I’m out the other side and running toward the arena where Helena had told me to meet her friend. Come hell or high water, I’m leaving this place. It’s not quite dark yet, so I stay out of sight as much as I can, ducking into the hedge maze whenever I see a soldier on patrol.
By now, I know the grounds like the back of my hand and manage to make it to the second tower without being seen. I hurry through the unlit passageways leading to the arena, surprised that I don’t see a single servant anywhere inside. But maybe that’s all Helena’s doing. As I march onto the darkened sands, remembering the last time I was here, I swallow hard.
“Helena?” I call, hearing my voice echo. “Are you here?”
The steel doors clang shut ominously behind me, and I frown. The hairs on my arms rise, warning me of something that I can’t see, only sense. Beneath my skin, my magic roils, but it’s instantly dampened by the constricting runes on the cuffs.
“You made it,” Helena’s voice says from somewhere above me, and I try to place it, finally finding her in the royal box where Javed and Roshan had once stood what seems like an eternity ago.
“Where’s your friend?” I ask.
She holds the railing, jubilant laughter leaving her lips. “By the maker, you are so predictable.”
“Let me guess, you were lying?” I ask with a resigned chuckle of my own. “Just trying to entertain yourself at my expense?” I crouch and reach for my dagger. “Now who’s predictable?”
“Oh, I plan to be entertained,” she says. “Alas, I shall be the only witness to a terrible accident. A rebellious little rat defied her king to see the forbidden beast, and tragically, it escaped from its handlers and killed everyone in the arena until it was finally subdued.” She sits on the seat meant for the queen. “Time to finish what I started months ago and take the place meant to be mine.”
I have no time to respond before a vengeful screech pierces the silence.
