Sylvian gives her a funny look. “No, not like that. This tension between us has been changing with every step we take through this labyrinth. Every moment we spend with you.”
She laughs, a sound so full it makes me feel a hundred years younger. “It’s not me, but still, I’m impressed. In my experience, it’s hard for people to change.”
“We have proper motivation,” Cassius says, his gaze sweeping to her face.
“Proper motivation?” she asks, looking confused.
Ashton leans in. “We’re changing for you. Because of you.”
She looks down, blushing, and I want to drag the sun down and make it crown her.
I don’t say that. Instead, I ask, “How do you do it?”
She frowns. “Do what?”
I gesture at her, at all of it. “All of us are a bunch of pampered royals. But not you. You’ve lived a hard life. And yet, you just keep going. After everything. Even after…” I can’t say it. I just nod at her, and she gets it.
She shrugs, a little embarrassed. “I’m scared all the time. I just do it anyway, because I don’t see another choice.”
I stare at her. “That’s what bravery is.”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’m just doing what has to be done.”
I nod. “That’s what warriors do.”
She laughs, but it’s almost shy. “You really think I’m a warrior?”
Sylvian grins. “You’re tougher than any fae I know. And you look better swinging a sword than any of us.”
Ashton sighs dramatically. “She does have a certain way with violence.”
Cassius adds, “You also don’t quit. That’s rare.”
I feel like my chest might split open from the pressure of it. This is good. The way Alette is opening up to us. The way we’re opening up to her. She can’t still plan on leaving us when we get back. She’ll stay with us, and then I’ll have a reason to smile every day for the rest of our lives.
There’s a pause, the kind that should be awkward but isn’t. Then the air changes. There’s a hum, deep in the wall, and a flicker of light, at first just a pulse, then a steady glow, as if the cell itself is waking up.
The stones on the far side begin to shimmer, letters searing through the grime, words forming in lines of crimson that burn the dust away.
I stand up, the others scrambling after. The message is clear, each word dripping with threat: AT DAWN YOU DIE.
The last word stretches, the lines of red crawling down the wall, underlining the promise. We stare at it, as if we can outstare it. We can’t.
Sylvian’s face is pale. “What the hell?”
Cassius goes to the door, testing the bars again, hard enough that his palms bleed. “Come fight us like men!”
Ashton starts pacing, hands knotted behind his back. “How long until dawn?”
“A few hours, at most,” Cassius says, not looking away from the tiny barred window on the door.
Sylvian cracks his knuckles. “We need a plan.”
I look at Alette. She’s watching me, waiting. I try to remember how it felt to be a weapon. How it felt to want to burn the world. But the angry, empty feeling’s not there. Not that it matters. This cell doesn’t need a weapon. It needs a solution.
Ashton stops pacing. “Anyone have an idea?”
But only silence meets his words.Fuck.
