My sister careens down a residential street, leaping over stone fences that separate each yard. The moon is high, and the houses are dark, but she peers over her shoulder every few seconds, as if someone is chasing her.
In one hand, she clutches a drawstring bag to her chest, and she fists her skirt with the other, gathering speed and gazing up with determination—like she plans to leap over something impossibly high.
Like the city wall?
Right before she jumps, a shadowed figure moves in her periphery.
She crashes into the wall and fumbles to steady herself. “You!” she cries. “H-how did you know? You’re supposed to be—”
“I know everything.” The shadowed figure cuts her off, and every hair on my arm rises because Iknowthat voice. It’s the same voice that whispered in my ear not ten minutes ago.
I watch in open-mouthed shock as Alaric materializes in the glittering haze, stepping out from a pool of shadow near the base of the Fortress wall. He looks so much darker, so much more sinister than the boy I just danced with—like the cruel, detached version of Alaric I met on the burning fields of Tashir. It’s almost hard to believe they’re thesame person.
“I was aware of your plans as soon as you started making them,” he says with a reproachful shake of his head. “You weren’t exactly stealthy.”
Ro makes little choking noises before setting her jaw and lifting her chin. “I’m going home, and you can’t stop me. I’ve seen the hospital. I know your dirty secrets. You have no future without Tashir, whichmeansInow have the upper hand.”
Alaric snorts. “We willalwayshave the upper hand. Even with this new unfortunate sickness, you and your people will perish far faster. All I have to do is demolish the mountains and allow the Marauders to resume their attacks.”
Rowenna takes a bold step forward. “What if I told you we don’t need your protection anymore?” She holds up the drawstring sack and rattles the contents within.
It sounds like jangling coins.
Or rattling stones.
Alaric waves a dismissive hand. “You could have stuffed anything in there.”
Rowenna continues swinging the bag back and forth. “When you’re the smallest, weakest plant in a gardening bed, you have to grow twice as fast—and branch out in unexpected ways—to capture enough sunlight to thrive. So while you and Soren have been gloating in your superiority, ignoring me and the rest of your ‘inconvenient problems,’ I’ve beenworking myself near to death—down to myblood, flesh, and bone,you might say—to find a way to free my people. And I have.”
Alaric’s face goes pale as Rowenna rattles the bag again, her smile sharp and glinting.
My pulse beats against my temples, pounding so hard my entire head aches. Could Rowenna really have found more pieces of the gemstone triad? Alaric insisted his father destroyed the larger pieces when the Flesh of Callahan was damaged. But what if he was lying?
What if he’s been lying about other things?
Everything?
“Let’s see, shall we?” Rowenna loosens the ties and overturns the bag.
My hand flies to my mouth as three small stones plunk into her palm. Red, pink, and white. A crimson ruby, an apricot diamond, and a sparkling white quartz—identical to the stones embedded in Alaric’s wrist.
I want to drop the chain and stop the memory.
Alaric promised there were no more stones. Just like he promised he had nothing to do with my sister’s death. And how he also claimed to know nothing about the makeshift hospital and people drained of their life essence. I was with him when we discovered the hospital; I saw the horror and disgust on his face. No one could be such a convincing liar.
Could they?
As if in answer, memory Alaric lunges for the stones in Rowenna’s fist. He’s as lithe and swift as a garden snake, fast enough to catch most opponents off guard.
But not Rowenna.
She dodges easily, slides the stones back into the pouch, and leaps up the Fortress wall.
I marvel at her strength, speed, and sheer brilliance as she scrabbles up the stones, creating handholds by driving two blades from her belt into the cracks.
Alaric tries to follow her, but he’s sputtering and flustered, andeven though he’s stronger than Rowenna, he’s also heavier—too heavy to support his body weight with just his fingertips.
She looks down at him as she swings one leg over the top of the wall. “You and your father are fools,” she calls. “You brought a grain beetle into your storehouse and assumed I’d no longer eat wheat, that my appetites would change simply because you took me from my home. Then you ignored me and underestimated me, left me to poke around at my leisure, and now you’re shocked to learn I stole your precious triad.” She shakes her head and clucks her tongue. “I can’t wait to see how lovely the stones look embedded inmywrist.”
