He blanked his face, and strode forward, forcing himself to ignore the expression on Nim’s face. It was by far the worst of all. Her eyes were wide and devastated, utterly betrayed, as she spun, looking frantically around her, searching for an escape. There was none.
He shoved away the rioting mass of revulsion that surged through him, reaching for the calm detachment he would need to make it through the next five minutes. He swallowed the rising bile back down his throat, clapped Tristan on the shoulder, and made himself smile. “You did it, brother.”
Tristan stared back at him, face shuttered. As stoic and as guarded as Tor hoped he also was. They had to be equally composed. Equally committed. If Tristan disagreed now, they were all lost.
Tor’s ears rang, the buzz so loud he could hardly hear Nim calling for Tristan or his own voice as he gripped Tristan’s shoulder and leaned down to whisper, “Trust me.” And then, too low for even Tristan to hear, he added, “Please.”
Chapter Two
Keely clungto the slick rocks of the moat, buffeted by the freezing waves, trying to keep her head above the water.
Bard. They were out of the palace. The Hawks had arrived and freed her, Nim, and Val. Standing in front of Ballanor, Val chained to the wall behind him, she hadn’t imagined it could be possible.
The pounding agony down her arm from where the arrow had struck her shoulder during their flight was making it impossible to get a good grip with that hand, and the cold was leaching the last of her reserves as quickly as the wound had been spilling blood. At least the cold might slow it down.
Nim was doing her best to help, but she was also struggling, and the heavy chain between them dragged and pulled with the current. All Keely could do was cling to the rocks, hold her face out of the water, and focus on sucking in one burning breath at a time.
One of their rescuers—the captain had called him Jos—treaded water, urgently gesturing for Nim to swim toward them and the boat they had brought to escape in. But Nim shook her head, her exhausted shivers rattling down the chain.
“I c-can’t let go,” Nim whispered. “Keely’s hurt. And the ch-chain….”
The biggest of the guards, the Apollyon from the banquet hall, swam closer, joining Jos. “Nim, can you pass Keely to me?”
There was a long, loaded moment as Nim stared at the guard and he stared back. He was the guard they’d thought had betrayed them all. But there must have been more to it—he had returned with the rest of the squad, he had searched the palace for them, fled with them, and found them a way out. He had helped save Nim and Val. And her.
“C-can y-you help me?” Nim whispered through blue lips. “I’m trying, but I c-can’t let go.”
It was hard to tell in the dim light, but Keely imagined she saw his face soften slightly. In relief, perhaps. As if he’d been afraid that Nim would refuse him.
He swam closer and then reached out to hold her, and suddenly Keely had help. Her face was clear of the water and she could breathe.
The Apollyon pulled her gently into his arms and cradled her against his chest. He was so big and warm that she found herself wanting to curl into him. Wanting to hold on to him. Bard. That was a bad sign.
“I’m Tor,” he whispered.
She lifted her head, leaning back so she could look at him properly, and whispered, “Can I trust you, soldier?”
He looked down at her, dark eyes sincere, his grip firm but careful where he held her. “Yes. You can trust me with your life.”
Maybe it was the freezing cold burning through her body to her bones. Maybe it was the throbbing torment in her shoulder—she had snapped the wooden arrow shaft off as close to her shoulder as she could while they stood in the darkness of the tunnel, but the arrowhead still grated, shredding muscle and sinew with every movement. Or maybe it was the conviction in his deep voice. Whatever it was, she found herself believing him.
She had watched him in the great hall as he’d handed the blue tunic to Tristan. Everyone else had been riveted on the drama of Nim calling to Tristan as she was dragged away. None of them had been watching the powerfully built Blue Guard standing quietly to the side. But she had.
She had seen him flinch. Seen how his shoulders had curled over, just a fraction, before he straightened and glared out at the crowd. It was enough for her to recognize the movement. The instinctive need to protect your vulnerable belly as the world disintegrated around you. And the need to fight back.
Oh, his face had been grim and blank, unmoved, but she’d seen blank faces like that before. She’d seen her own in the mirror.
It hadn’t meant anything to her at the time. Tor’s guilt at his and Tristan’s betrayal was irrelevant compared to the horror of their immediate future as she and Nim were dragged to the king’s rooms.
It had left her mind completely in the devastating, utterly disastrous moment when Alanna had sacrificed herself so they could escape, and they had been forced to leave her behind.
But then the Hawks had come for them, and despite everything, Nim trusted them. And they trusted Tor. They had followed Tor as he led them safely out and it had suddenly made sense. He had never betrayed them. He had bought his squad access into the palace, and he had paid for it at the cost of his reputation and any chance he might have had for a future in Kaerlud. Bard. An honorable Blue. Who would have thought it was possible?
Keely tucked herself into his chest and tried to help as best she could as he swam them out to the small boat and then lifted her over the side, still chained to Nim.
The movement jarred her shoulder, and she gritted her teeth, forcing herself not to howl. Tor climbed in beside her and gently helped her to move so that she half-lay, half-sat, propped against his legs. Lanval lay unconscious at her feet, Nim beside her in the darkness. The squad piled in around them, all covered by a heavy tarpaulin as they flew through the water.
Long moments passed until the tarpaulin that had shielded them from the archers on the battlements was pushed away and she could breathe. And as she breathed, she whispered half-formed prayers.Please let Alanna be okay. Please forgive me for leaving her. Please. Bard.
