“Who?” His voice rang out over the miles of flattened houses. “Who else thinks this way?”
Was I betraying my father’s trust by sharing this information with Remo or was I helping our cause? What if we got out of here, and Remo went to his grandfather with all this knowledge—
“Amara? Who. Else?”
“Silas.” His name fled my lips like an arrow springing off a bowstring.
Remo’s mask of anger transformed into one of incredulity—his eyes grew wide and his mouth parted and rounded. The vein underneath his birthmark seemed to pump harder, fluttering the stained skin. I watched how he’d react next. It could go one of two ways: either the weight of his stepfather’s allegiance would shift Remo’s loyalty or he’d call me a liar.
The white light falling from the sky licked his mussed locks, making his head look ablaze. He kicked a piece of siding, which flipped before crashing down on the tracks, barely visible underneath all the wreckage. For the longest time, he stood stock-still and stared at the train.
The breeze caught in my hair and blew pieces of it in my eyes. I dragged my black locks away and tucked them behind my ears, but they slipped free. I neither turned nor took cover in the train. I waited, not wanting to miss the moment Remo picked his camp.
Finally, it happened. He looked toward me, and his eyes, although not the fiery shade of his hair, seared right into mine. “If Kingston’s alive . . .” His voice was scratchy. “If he’s alive, I’ll find him.”
I tipped my head to the side. “And what will you do once you find him?”
He pursed his lips before parting them once more. “I’ll kill him.”
I’d crept out onto a fragile limb. Instead of splintering, it had supported me. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, Amara. I’m not doing this for you; I’m doing this because Kingston is a halfwit, and as much as I have trouble with your family on a personal level, your father is good king.”
“Whether you want it or not, if you eliminate Kingston, you’ll get my gratitude.” My words did nothing to slacken his rigid stance or to calm the throbbing at his temples. “To think you could’ve milked this situation and didn’t.”
One of his eyebrows jolted. “How could I have milked this situation?”
“I would’ve paid a high price to protect my father. Perhaps even struck agajoïor met you by the Cauldron a second time.” My pulse picked up speed as I wondered what in Neverra had possessed me to add that last part. I could’ve stopped at the bargain. Why did I have to go and bring up marriage? Remo wasn’t the devil I’d believed him to be, but he was also not the man I’d pictured at my side forever.
His eyebrow lowered. “A favor from youwouldhave been nice, but I’ll leave your hand to someone who deserves it.”
My jaw slackened.
He chucked me under the chin. “Don’t look so surprised. I’m not completely ill-intentioned.”
He wasn’t even a little ill-intentioned. I didn’t know what to do with this new Remo. How to act around him. “What’s your ultimate ambition, Remo?Wariffordraca?”
“Why do you assume my aspirations are political?”
I frowned.
“Maybe I’ll uphold my family legacy and open a bakery.”
“A bakery?”
His mouth curved into that signature half-smirk of his. “You can’t see it?”
“Um. No. I mean, why not? I just . . . um.”
“Peach pie can become the signature dish.”
My jaw must’ve come completely unhinged, because the look that crossed Remo’s face was wickedly bright.
“Relax. I’m just teasing you, Trifecta. I much prefer strategizing over baking.” His teeth flashed and so did his eyes.
“But you like to bake?”
“Surprisingly, I do.”
