Gods. Tristan.
She was still going to kick his ass. He deserved it. But she knew, deep in her soul, that he would never have left her if there had been any other choice.
Tor had blindsided them both. Had he betrayed them? Tor had been disowned, rejected by his entire family when the Hawks were exiled. Would he sacrifice her to get them back? Were his family ties to the crown more important to him than she was? A woman he hardly knew. Maybe.
Tor had been furious with her, entirely convinced of her guilt. Maybe he’d gone along with their plans because it was the easiest way to get her back to the palace? Gods. The thought made her stomach roll. Could Tor, a man who had stepped in to save someone he didn’t know in the market, hate her that much? Hate Val that much? Or perhaps see them as less important than his chance to return to his family?
The answer seemed obvious—he’d handed her over to Grendel and been reinstated after all.
But Tristan would come back. She knew he would. He had walked away to keep them both alive, and she had to do her part and believe in him while he was gone.
Keely drew herself up, white-faced with rage and helplessness. “Your brother would be ashamed of you!”
Nim flinched, feeling the barb strike right where it hurt. But she shook her aching head and took a step away, letting the chain between them pull tight. “No, he wouldn’t. He would want two people to live rather than three to die. And he would want me to look after his lover. While we’re alive, we have a chance. A chance to save Val. A chance to come back for Alanna. If we go back now, those chances will be gone.”
Keely looked as if she were about to argue, but sudden voices from below startled them and they huddled together in silence as a group of serving women chatted and grumbled about the late hour on the level below them.
A door opened somewhere and, finally, the stairs cleared.
Nim stared at Keely, and Keely stared back. Neither of them said anything, but somehow, in the silence, they reached a tentative truce.
Keely took her hand, across the chain, and led her swiftly down the stairs to another small door.
They eased it open a crack and peered through it. The corridor was filled with milling soldiers. They pushed back into the stairwell and waited. Every second weighed heavily as it passed.
Cold sweat trickled down her back between her wings, terror sliding through her as she wondered if the soldiers would use the servants’ stairs.
Then the leader gave a command and they were gone. Thank the gods.
Keely gestured to a door on the other side of the corridor, and they bolted across and into a long, high-ceilinged room filled with books. An elderly cleaning woman was clearing out the fireplace, but they simply ran past her, grateful when she kept her head down to her work, and made their way out a far door.
Down more narrow stairs to an official corridor, flying past the portrait covered walls.
Finally, through a heavy door inlaid with silver and into a small antechamber decorated in plush ruby-colored velvets. With deep carpets and polished tables, crystal glasses gleaming in the light of a multitude of lamps. A massive, throne-like chair sat beside a fire, and Nim knew immediately that this was one of the king’s reception rooms.
A decorative sword was hanging over the mantelpiece, its gold and black pommel highlighting the two fierce boars locked in battle at its center. She reached up and took it, pulling Keely’s arm up with the chain so that she could use both hands. It was too heavy for her. And iron, which she hated. But it was a sword.
Keely pulled her across to a dark oak door at the far end of the room and slowly worked the massive bolt open. She tipped her head to the door and whispered, “The great hall. I don’t know what’s happening in there. Could be cleaners. Could be soldiers.”
They both stared at the door.
“We can’t wait here,” Nim said quietly.
“You think?” Keely replied acidly.
Apparently, their truce was still evolving. Nim sighed. “Let’s get it over with.”
The door opened behind a small screen, which allowed them to creep silently into the great hall and then huddle together as they took stock.
The hall was dark except for a set of bright lamps placed around the dais. Their golden light glittered along the two ornate thrones, throwing long shadows along the swaths of burgundy brocade behind them. How dark and claustrophobic would it be behind those heavy curtains? It must feel like being buried alive.
She bit her lip hard, distracting herself with the pain, and took a deep breath to ground herself once more. They were there to free him.
Two guards stood in front of the dais, keeping a watchful eye over the now empty great hall. Otherwise the room was empty.
She looked back and saw that Keely was watching her closely. Probably reading every ounce of horror and desperation she was feeling written on her face. The other woman’s expression was brittle as she glanced away, toward Val, but a fraction less accusatory than it had been.
A horn blew a sharp call from somewhere in the palace, and they both shrank back against the screen. The guard was being called. They were being hunted in earnest.
