I remember Caspian telling us about the man—the god—in Sira’s pool. Malekai Furiondemius, the Baron of the Green Flame.How is he in Dayton’s mind?
“Whatever’s happening in the Autumn wing, Dayton, don’t let it frighten you. It’s another one of Sira’s dirty magic tricks, like the reanimated goblins,” I urge.
“But why is the Green Flame here?” Dayton rasps.
“I don’t know.” But maybe that’s not entirely true. Because there is somewhere else I’ve seen that green before. Lilac eyes turned emerald, flames engulfing an entire army.
I place my hand on one of the purple briars, trying to feel for Caspian.What’s happening to you?Is it causing him to lose control? Could the flames be traveling here through him?
Cas, where are you?
12
Caspian
Prismatic briars lurch from the ground, wrapping around mejust before I hit the stone. Wrenley sprints over, snatching me out from her briars.
I can barely move. With shaky movements, I hold up my hands. My skin is hardly red, let alone burned, yet the memory of the fire writhes within me. I clutch the moonstone token harder, the bite of pain in my palm keeping me conscious.
“Are you okay?” Wrenley’s brow is beaded with sweat, face flushed. Her eyes search my body as she touches my shoulders, my arms.
“H-hey, Birdy,” I rasp. “Couldn’t h-have come a little sooner?”
She laughs and squeezes me to her chest, the cold press of her armor a balm on my bare skin. “Andyoucouldn’t have gotten yourself imprisoned in a water cage? That would have been a lot fucking easier, you asshole!”
“When Mother finds out?—”
“She’s communing with the Baron of the Green Flame right now. We don’t have much time before she realizes what’shappened.” Wrenley reaches into her satchel and pulls out a pair of pants. “Can you move? We need to go.”
I pull on the too-big pants, trying to ignore the fact that I can guess their previous owner. I recognize the inky black fabric as a favorite of a certain fallen princeling. My legs are shaky as I stand, and every breath is ragged. I can’t remember my last sip of water.
Wrenley starts running, then looks back at me. With an exasperated sigh, she returns and wraps my arm over her shoulder, supporting my weight. “Ugh. You’ve gotten pampered from spending so much time with those Castletree weaklings.”
I huff a laugh. “And you’re strong as a gladiator from all your time in Hadria.”
Her muscles tense, and all she says in response is “Come on.”
I try my best to keep up as we amble out of the courtyard and into the nearest street. As always in Cryptgarden, the sky is merely a swirling cloud of dark purple fog. The buildings, with their pointed spires and gemstone lights, appear more like glowing daggers than homes. It must be daytime, as the streets are completely empty. Cryptgarden folk prefer the night—or whatever the equivalent is down here in the perpetual darkness.
“What’s the plan, Birdy?”
“Get out. Stay out.”
I lick my lips. My mind is too thick with pain to comprehend what this means. Are we doing this? Breaking free of Sira once and for all?
If so…I can’t let us get caught now. I look to the ground, summoning briars. It feels like dragging my hand through sludge. A single briar emerges, frail and ashy. “Well, that’s embarrassing.”
“I’ll do it,” she says.
“My briars are faster.”
“You’re too weak, Cas. We need to get out of sight before?—”
“Before what?”
A roar sounds behind us. I look back into the courtyard to see a bright flash as a pile of Wrenley’s prismatic briars goes up in flames. Emberlash staggers out of the blaze, his barbed whip alight. He grabs a horn off his belt, holds it to his lip, and blows. The haunting sound echoes down every street.
“Before that happens,” Wrenley says. “Hold on!”
