“Because rumors are always true?” He tsked. “I thought you a tad smarter than thecaligosubi, Amara.”
Caligosubiwas a term used to mean those who lived below the mist. Now that the mist was gone, it was considered slanderous, and faeries who used it were either fined or their dust was confiscated by the Hunters. Not that Kingston cared about decorum or political correctness; he was as vile and malicious as they came.
“If you weren’t his puppet, then why did Gregor lock you inside this place?”
“Because I asked him to.”
I frowned. “You mean to tell us you knew about this place?”
“Can’t call yourself a leader if you don’t know what your subordinates are up to.”
Was that a jab at my father?
Remo picked up the machete and tossed it from hand to hand. “No leader would ever voluntarily enter a place they can’t exit. At least, not a smart one.”
Kingston’s Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat. “Maybe I can exit. Maybe I’ve chosen to stay.”
Remo raised a brutal grin. “You’rechoosingto remain in prison?Please. . . You’re under my grandfather’s thumb, Kingston. Even if the idea to elude death was yours, you obviously didn’t think your plan through real well.”
“What part of me having the apple did you not get, Farrow?”
“Will you be threatening me with your little fruit for the duration of our visit? Because it’s already getting old.”
Should we be pressing my uncle’s buttons?I have dust,I reminded myself. Dust he’d either failed to notice or deemed useless.
Annoyance contorted Kingston’s face, accentuating the welts. “Fine. Don’t take me seriously. It’s your funeral.” A smile formed at the edges of his mouth. “Or Amara’s.”
“You touch her, and you’ll wish for a taste of your fucking apple.”
Kingston’s smile was still turning into a grin when Remo’s machete flew through the air, handle over blade, and struck his skull. His eyeballs flared in shock right before bursting into dust along with the rest of his body.
As the blood-soaked weapon thudded against the sand, Remo said, “We need to find that apple.”
“Or I can gas him when he comes back.”
Remo’s bare, sweat-slickened chest puffed with heavy breaths. “What if you can’t asphyxiate him down here?”
“Thenwe’ll find the apple.”
He pillowed my cheeks between his bloodied palms, and even though they smelled like death, I leaned into his touch. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Amara. I promise.”
“I know.”
He brought his mouth down hard on mine as though to stamp that promise into my flesh.
35
New Clothes
We’d finished hanging the various cuts oftigrimeat on the nearest tree when Kiera came to tell us dinner was ready.
“Dinner?” I flicked my gaze to the bright sky. “What time does the sun set?”
“It doesn’t.” Her eyebrows drew together. “How have you not noticed this? You’ve been through other cells, right?”
“We have.” I glanced at Remo. “But we were locked in the windowless basement of an inn—”
“An inn? How fancy . . .” Her dreadlocks bled water into her top, which looked clean-ish.
