Arlo moves through the crowd like a shark through water. Sharp. Powerful. Untouchable. Behind him, legion guards flank Naima and Margot. Both in manacles.
The scream that tears from my throat doesn't sound human. Tilda's arms wrap around me from behind. I thrash, trying to break free.
"Godsdamn it." She jabs the base of my spine with her finger. "Stop. Moving."
The compulsion hits instantly. It spreads from the point of contact, through my organs, into my brain. My body goes slack. I grit my teeth. Fight it. She taught me how. She trained me for this.
My friends disappear from view. And then I see another face. Casimir. Also in chains. I stagger. Tilda tightens her grip.
"This is against the treaty!" someone screams.
"The Sages broke the treaty long ago!" A legion guard's voice cuts through the chaos. "Their residents refuse to wear amulets! Because of them, our borders are no longer secure from the Shroud!"
"Because of them, the land rots! The curse spreads! Our guards have been poisoned by their forbidden gifts!" The guard raises his voice above the crowd. "Tomorrow, these renegades will be dealt with! Bring us Jordan the Mapmaker!"
"The Council took him!" someone shouts. "You already have him!"
"Bring us Jordan, or we deliver death to these traitors!"
The crowd follows the procession. I'm trapped by Tilda's compulsion, her arms locked around me. By the time I break free, they're gone.
There's nothing left to chase.
Chapter Thirty-Four
We make it inside before Tilda's legs give out. We crumple to the floor together. I don't know how long we stay there. She murmurs "What a mess, what a mess" like a prayer. I sit in silence.
I'm out of words. Out of thoughts. Out of tears. All I can see is Arlo leading the charge.Arlo. Of all people. I would have believed it of anyone but him.
"He wasn't himself," Tilda whispers when I say it aloud. "He just wasn't."
"How did this happen?"
She opens her mouth to respond. The door crashes open. The lights flicker as Malachi steps inside. His eyes sweep the room, land on Tilda shielding me, and go cold.
He prowls toward us with an expression I have no doubt many have seen in their final moments.
"Stop." Her voice shakes, but the compulsion drips from it.
My teeth grit against the pull. Kage freezes by the door.
Malachi doesn't even slow. He keeps his eyes on mine as he crouches before me.
"Let go of her,” he says, his voice barely a whisper, but Tilda’s arms fall away instantly.
Then he's lifting me off the floor, cradling me against his chest. I bury my face in his neck. Breathe in the lingering scent of the ocean and him.
"Who are you?" he rumbles.
I blink and pull away. “This is Tilda. Tilda this is–”
"Prince Malachi Bain Malvorathis,” Kage announces as he walks over.
"Oh my goddess." Tilda's eyes go wide. She curtsies.
"Oh gods," I whisper. Mal stiffens.
"My apologies, Your Highness." Tilda straightens. "My name is Carla Matilda Ocasio. I?—"
