Adrian’s voice evens out, no longer loud enough for us to hear.
“Fightingfor this kingdom,” Graylen growls. “More like fighting to escape it.”
Images of King Avalon’s funeral pour into my mind, of the riot that broke out—desperation and heartbreak andragesizzling in the air like roaring fire.
No. The people of Crea wouldn’t fight for the crown. Maybe if they were frightened enough, but notforCrea.
I shake my head, my jaw locking as I nod in agreement.
On our way across Crea, nothing told the tale of a kingdom preparing for war. Though unfamiliar, it all felt like business as usual. Bars full and trading happening in the squares.
So what happened to everyonehere? Why does it feel as if the entire town was ransacked? Just as the woman with the child had said, it seems everyone merely disappeared.
Graylen and I start back toward the group, my gaze snagging on a familiar stand.
My heart lurches.
In the daze of running through the rows, I didn’t realize where my feet had taken me. It wasn’t down a random path. Somehow, my muscles remembered the route without me meaning to.
I knew these stalls forward and backward, most of the tradesmen local and here every day in the same spot.
Butthisspot? It’s one I knew better than any other.
The memory washes over me with the force of a tidal wave. A soft chuckle carries like a ghost on the wind, followed by the tangy scent of lemons.
My throat tightens as my eyes glaze over.
A low rumble of thunder travels across the sky above me. I hardly feel it as the first drop of rain begins to fall. It’s a lightsprinkle, just enough to wet my cheeks and dampen the fabric covering my shoulders.
I reach out for the now-rotted wood table. There’s a gaping hole in the center of the back right leg, making it lean to one side.
My fingers brush across the rough surface, and I can practicallyseeLinnick standing behind it. His bright smile warming my chest as he tosses me a strawberry from his garden.
His voice is like a haunting echo. If I listen hard enough, I can almost hear him say what he always said on days like these.“Rain is always a good day on the farm.”
The pain in my chest begins to flicker into something new. Something harder.
Linnick would tell me to stay strong—to do what’s right. Whatever awaits us in the castle, I can’t forget what I’m fighting for—whoI’m fighting for.
I’m fighting for the only home Linnick had ever known. I’m pressing ahead for the little boy with quick fingers and a toothless grin. For the Sarahs and Milos—who are goddess knows where now.
And I’m going to find Opal—someone I can still save.
Fifty-Four
Spinel
Tension mountsas the soldiers lead us into the castle.
Soren presses tightly against my thigh, his nose sniffing the air and ears twitching every few steps. None of the soldiers have gotten close to me since he joined us, a small light in the dark after all that’s happened since we got here.
They brought us through the same dark passageway I was led through my first time here. There’s no torch to light our way, but the path is straight enough that we trudge ahead in dark silence.
When we get to the end, the gates are raised high already. Adrian walks ahead of me, head bent to the leading soldier as he gestures to the open gate.
We pass through, an unsettled feeling sinking low in my stomach as we enter yet another dark tunnel leading to the castle doors.
Unlike the gate, the doors are closed.
