“I don’t care if you can’t control the nightmares,” Alysa said. “I don’t care if every one of us falls to them. If it’s the way you take the throne, you do it. Ember, are you listening to me?”
She was right. I knew it. I nodded in agreement. It didn’t make me hate the plan any less. I went over it again and again as we hiked to the wall. The Feared would storm the castle. With the doors open for the Blessed to enter for King Rodric’s celebration, they had the advantage of numbers. Blessed guards would defend against them. We anticipated that Blessed would be called from the celebration once they realized the scale of the attack.
Charon would aid the Feared. The front entrance seemed the only one large enough for him to pass through, and I needed him inside. While the Feared drew focus with numbers, Hart and I, along with the Storm, would take the throne room. We’d use the queen’s altar tunnel one last time. Since Elias was now aware of it, we bet on most of the guards being occupied by the Feared’s attack.
The wait outside the wall was painful. Hart’s anxiety tasted bitter on my tongue. I knew it was for me, but there was no way around both of us being there. Every trial had required something from each of us. Even if this was a single choice—tofree him of Themis’s summons—I knew it would require both of us to complete.
I just didn’t know how, exactly.
The pendant around my neck had helped once again to light the way through the dark woods. Now, I pulled it over my head and handed it to Hart. “Take this.”
He hesitated before accepting, but I insisted. It wasn’t as if we could use the pendant’s gems to wield. Scarlett had told us not to use any of the emotions from our trials. While we believed the trial of choice required something from each of us, we both assumed Eris’s loophole in the game would start with me, her Champion. If nothing else, I hoped the black gem in the dragon’s eye would flash eventually. Maybe it would signal to Hart when it was time if we were separated.
Time for what, we still didn’t know.
“Our plan has a few holes in it,” he whispered as he hung the pendant around his neck.
I didn’t bother denying it. “It’s the best we’ve got. We need to be in the throne room, both of us, with the throne and the dragon. We’ll likely get there before Charon, but hopefully, when he arrives, the gem will flash black and we can finish this.”
He sighed. “If all of that works, then we’ll only have to contend with a revolution. And keeping my father from the throne when he attempts his own plan.”
I squeezed his hand as we waited in the woods near the trapdoor entrance to the queen’s altar. “Your father can’t be allowed to become Champion while he holds the throne. We have to try.”
Hart nodded.
Almost fifty of us would enter through this path. Hart hadn’t only exposed it to Alysa; he’d shared the information freely with her entire camp. Some of those with us would breakoff when we entered the castle grounds to support the Feared at the entrance. Half would remain with us, on our journey to the throne room. Conceptually, I understood that after tonight, the knowledge of this path shouldn’t matter, but the hint of his sadness, like cool mint on my breath, told me it wasn’t only information to Hart.
With another squeeze of my hand, his gaze met mine. I slipped my arms around his neck and pulled him to me in a fierce kiss. We might be waiting for … something. A signal we’d know when we heard. But I wouldn’t let an opportunity to steal a moment with him pass me by.
Harrow returned. No cry of warning sounded as he glided over the wall toward us. While that meant no guards patrolled the trapdoor entrance on the other side, I didn’t assume we would enter uncontested. Elias might have moved guards into position in the tunnel path, which was why we’d wait for the attack to begin on the castle steps before we moved.
Silence hung heavy between the Oldwood’s gnarled branches as we listened for our signal.
I expected we’d hear the attack on the castle. That we’d hear shouts as guards rallied toward the front gate. We’d hear the warning bells ring, signaling any guards in the city to their stations. I’d never heard the chimes in my lifetime, but Hart had told us they existed for such an attack.
An exasperated breath left my lips. The sun had set. The king’s party had begun. We didn’t know when Rodric would make his move.
For so much of my life, I’d felt stuck, like I was waiting. Waiting for a Blessed to realize I was immune to their touch. Waiting for someone to turn me in to the king for punishment. Waiting for my father to notice I still needed him, for him to return to my life. Waiting for the right moment to flee from the kingdom.
Waitinghad never served me well.
Harrow landed on Alysa’s shoulder. She unrolled a note strapped to his leg. She barely had time to read it as the slow, steady beat of wings far larger than Harrow’s filled the sky overhead.
Charon’s roar echoed across the quiet night. He hadn’t even crossed the wall when the bells Hart had warned of clanged to life.
It was time.
Harrow flapped his wings and lifted off for a final circle, a final check to see if guards emerged from the tunnel in the castle gardens. We couldn’t wait forever. Anxiety flared in the tap of Hart’s foot as he counted down the time he allotted Harrow to survey the other side of the wall.
The bird didn’t call, and Hart’s foot tapped its final beat, then he moved. He opened the trapdoor and dropped into it quickly with his sword drawn. Three of the other fighters followed him immediately. The rest prepared to join, but we heard no sound of swords clanging or pain inflicted.
“All clear,” his voice rumbled up the opening.
I couldn’t imagine what this meant. Had Elias really not told anyone about the entry path? He wanted Hart to come to the throne room?
It only meant the trap was farther inside Glanmore Castle.
The rest of the Storm climbed down the ladder, and with torches held high, we ran through the tunnel.
