Chapter 13
Lorian’s lips were firm, warm, tender. They caressed mine like we had all the time in the world. Like this kiss could last forever. I sighed against his mouth, and his tongue slipped between my lips to tangle with mine.
His body was so hard. So large. Warmth spread from my stomach into my core. My knees went weak.
This was not at all like kissing the village boys. Lorian’s huge hand held me in place for him while he kissed me expertly. Thoroughly. He slipped his other hand to my lower back, pressing me close to him, and I shivered with want .
Tibris’s voice reached my ears. My usually mild-mannered brother was yelling all kinds of threats, Rythos and Marth holding him back.
Lorian pulled away and tucked my hair behind my ear.
“Goodbye, Prisca.”
“Goodbye, Lorian.”
Tibris reached for my arm, practically dragging me away. Which was a good thing since I was still a little dazed.
“Are you crazy?” he hissed at me, leading his horse with his other hand. “The mercenary? Really?”
“ He kissed me ,” I snarled back. And that argument was weak. The moment Lorian’s mouth met mine, I’d participated wholeheartedly.
Tibris’s lips trembled in an almost-smile before he ruthlessly firmed them. “Fine. For now, how about you put your hood up and attempt to walk in a straight line?”
My cheeks flamed. Yes, I was walking unsteadily, as if I were drunk. After a single kiss . I was glad Lorian couldn’t see me now. His ego didn’t need the stroking.
What had he been thinking?
Oh, I knew what he’d been thinking. He wanted to make me think about him. It was yet another way to mess with my mind.
Well, I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. As far as I was concerned, that part of my life was over. We were in the city now, which meant we needed to focus on rescuing Asinia and getting on a ship before the full moon. But gods, I’d miss the mercenaries.
“Where’d you get the horse?”
“Stole it,” Tibris said, his voice carefully neutral.
I sighed. My brother was good to his core. And because of me, he was now a wanted criminal. A thief. Of course, he was also a rebel.
I nodded, but my attention had caught on the scene in front of us. Next to me, Tibris went still.
The carriage was white and gold. But that wasn’t why my breath had stuck in my throat.
There was no horse attached to the carriage. And yet…it moved of its own accord.
“What magic is this?” I breathed.
“Stolen magic.” Bitterness seeped from each of my brother’s words.
“Move!” someone roared, and Tibris led his horse to the side of the road. Another carriage barreled past us, this one with a horse. Perhaps only the most powerful people in the city were using horseless carriages.
Lorian hadn’t warned me about this. From the way he’d talked about the king, it was clear he loathed him. And yet he hadn’t told me the people in the city would walk around using so much magic, it was clear they had received much, much more back than anyone living in the northern villages.
He’d wanted me to see it for myself. He’d known it would shock and enrage me, and he didn’t want to dampen that shock and rage by telling me about it.
“Where’s Vicer?” I asked, my gaze on a woman who used her magic to levitate a satchel as she walked down the street.
“He gave me an address.” Tibris pulled a note from his pocket, and I recognized our code.
“Did you know about this?” I nodded toward the woman casually using her power.
Tibris shrugged. “Vicer told me some of it. But he said I’d need to see the worst of it for myself in order to truly believe it.”
We’d turned left when we entered the city gates, and now we were standing in the southwest corner of the city. Tibris pulled out a rough map—likely also from Vicer—and began frowning down at it.
“We need a stable for my horse,” he muttered. “There should be one a few streets north of here.”
I nodded, and we set off, both of us with the hoods of our cloaks up. I would have worried about looking suspicious, but the people here…
Merchants strolled by in clothes similar to ours—tunics and breeches and cloaks. Among them, the nobles wandered, men in tailored waistcoats and women in the kinds of dresses that would get them killed if they needed to fight.
But why would they need to fight? The people here obviously lived a charmed life, ducking into the bookstores and teahouses, the taverns and dressmakers. For one wild moment, I wanted to burn the city to the ground, if only to watch these privileged, ignorant people run for their lives.
“Prisca,” Tibris hissed, and I jolted. I’d pushed my cloak back off my face at some point, and I was glowering at the people going about their lives.
This was not how I would keep us alive.
“Sorry.”
“I feel it too. But…”
“We have to be smart. I know.”
Tibris found the stables and instructed the boy who took his horse to tell him if anyone was in need of a mare. Regret flashed across his face, and my chest tightened. At some point, Tibris had obviously become fond of his stolen horse.
I followed Tibris north. Within a few minutes, clothing stores gave way to taverns. The stone beneath our feet became cracked, and we dodged pickpockets, prostitutes, and puddles of piss.
The difference between the wealthier parts of the city and the slums was staggering.
A drunk stumbled toward me, hands sweeping under my cloak in an attempt to find my purse. The feel of strange hands on me… Bile climbed up my throat. Elbowing the drunk in the face, I slid to the side and neatly tripped him. His face hit the wall, and he crumpled with a groan.
Guilt twisted my stomach. He was just a drunk. Not the hunter from the forest. Not the bearded giant from the inn. Just a harmless drunk.
Tibris stared at me. “I see you continued your lessons.”
“The mercenaries fight dirty.” I forced myself to keep walking. “They taught me a few things.”
He just nodded, his brow creasing. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
Surely it couldn’t get any worse. I waited, watching as Tibris stepped around a puddle, swallowed, took a deep breath, rolled his shoulders.
“The person who suggested Asinia be assessed…it was Frinik.”
I closed my eyes. When I thought of Frinik, I thought of sneaking into the forest, creeping out my window, whispers, hushed laughter, rough kisses. He was my first. We’d known even then that we weren’t forever, but for a few months, before his parents arranged his marriage to their friend’s daughter, we’d both had someone.
Now, if I ever saw him again, I would slit his throat.
Oh, how I’d changed since the day I’d fled my village.
“Pris?”
“I’m okay.” Neighbors turned on each other. It was how it worked. And the only reason there was no loyalty among us was because the king had stamped out that loyalty and replaced it with terror.
Tibris gave me a look that said he didn’t quite believe me, but he wasn’t going to press the subject. “We’re here.”
I examined the wooden door in front of us. Tibris reached out and knocked, and I sucked in a breath as we waited. Had the city changed Vicer? Was this a trap?
A woman answered the door. She wore an apron, her curly brown hair touched with gray. Deep frown lines had settled between her brows.
“Code,” she demanded.
Tibris rattled off a series of numbers.
Sweeping her gaze over both of us, the woman wordlessly stepped aside and allowed us in.
My eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light. The air was warm, and the scent of cinnamon wound toward me.
“Tibris.” Vicer appeared out of the gloom. He’d let his dark hair grow, and it was in a low ponytail against his neck. He was wearing a clean gray overcoat that matched his eyes, and he was also clean-shaven—something I’d rarely seen from him before he left.
Tibris had gone still, but he relaxed when Vicer grinned and slapped him on the back. I pushed the hood of my cloak down, and Vicer’s grin fell as he pondered me. He flicked a glance at Tibris.
“You didn’t say you were bringing your sister.”
Tibris cleared his throat. “After Pris…after everything that happened, I was even more careful than usual with the notes I sent. I had enough contacts at my end to help me find her, but I knew we needed to come here.”
Vicer just nodded, some of the tightness leaving his expression. His eyes laughed at me. “You always did follow us around like a lost puppy.”
“This lost puppy is rabid,” I told him.
Tibris sighed. “She’s right about that. Can we sit somewhere and talk?”
The woman who’d answered the door had wandered away. But at our question, she poked her head around a door. “Come and eat,” she said.
I’d been far too nervous to break my fast this morning, and now my stomach grumbled at the thought of food. I felt…safe here. Well, as safe as we could be in the capital.
Vicer shook his head at her. “Always eavesdropping.” But it was clear from his fond expression that he didn’t blame her for it. “Margie here cooks the best chicken in the city.”
She waved that off, but her cheeks had flushed. “Wash your hands before you sit at my table,” she said. “All of you.”
The way she’d taken charge reminded me of my own mother. And of Asinia’s. My chest ached, but I followed Vicer as he led us into a small washroom.
“I didn’t think you’d have easy access to water,” Tibris said as I washed up.
“We’re based in the slums for a reason. This was once an orphanage, and no one notices when people are coming and going at all hours of the day and night,” Vicer said. “But there are enough of us living here and contributing that we can enjoy some comforts.”
Tibris washed his hands, and Vicer led us into a large kitchen. Margie had already set three plates of chicken on the table, along with hunks of fresh bread.
“Thank you,” I told her. “You’re not hungry?”
She looked at me, and her expression softened slightly. “I’ve already eaten. And you’re welcome.”
“Sit with us, Margie,” Vicer said.
She brought over three cups of water, and Vicer took them from her.
“You can speak freely in front of Margie,” he said softly.
I’d become more than a little suspicious and paranoid myself since leaving our village. But for some reason, Margie had immediately put me at ease. That was likely a good reason not to trust her.
“I lost my daughter to the king’s lies,” Margie said softly, interrupting my thoughts. “They tore her from my arms and took her to the castle. She was burned last year on Gods Day.”
Margie opened the top of her dress, revealing a gnarled scar that wound from one side of her throat down her chest. “Then they tried to kill me. But I survived.”
I stared at the scar. Was that how my mother had been killed? Tibris still refused to tell me, and I’d stopped asking.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
I’d heard what Margie hadn’t said. Everything she did was in her daughter’s name.
“I was told King Sabium has been lying all this time,” I said. “Our magic doesn’t go to the gods at all.”
Margie sighed. “No.”
“How has he gotten away with it? And his father? And his father before him?”
“I asked this question of a narminoi, soon after my daughter was taken from me. It took months for Vicer to locate her.” She slid Vicer a fond look. He picked up her hand and squeezed it.
Lorian had mentioned a narminoi. “Would it be possible for me to talk to her?”
Vicer shrugged. “If she’s feeling sane that day.”
It seemed as if narminoi succumbed to the same insanity seers eventually did.
Tibris frowned. I knew what he was thinking. Was that how people would have eventually spoken about Mama?
Vicer seemed to have realized what he’d said, because he gave us an apologetic look and gestured for Margie to speak.
She took a sip of water. “According to the narminoi, this all began when the gods were arguing among themselves. They were anticipating the time when alliances between the kingdoms would snap and they would turn on one another—as creatures with sentience eventually do. Each of the gods had a theory about which kingdom would survive such a war. The gods argued about this for centuries until, finally, they agreed to a test.”
Tibris grimaced at me, and I nodded back. What were we but entertainment for the gods?
Margie gave us a faint smile. “Faric, god of knowledge, gave an artifact to the humans. Tronin, god of strength, gave the fae three artifacts. And Bretis, god of protection, had become reluctantly intrigued by the hybrid kingdom to the west. The people who had somehow thrived—even after separating from the fae. Bretis donated something that held such power, Tronin and Faric immediately grew jealous.”
“What did the gods give each kingdom?” I asked.
“The narminoi couldn’t tell me.” She nodded at my plate. “Eat.”
I took a bite. Margie’s chicken was tender and flavorful. But I could barely taste it. “What happened next?”
“The humans used their power not to look into their own lands and determine the health and wellness of their subjects. No, they began to look to their neighbors. And they grew envious. Why had the fae been given so much more magic than the humans? Why were the hybrids more powerful and longer-lived? Eventually, the human king became obsessed with these questions. His name was Regner.
“King Regner ignored the faes’ weaknesses—such as their ancient grudges and low fertility—and focused only on their great power and long lives. The jealous king decided he would take what he hadn’t been given, ensuring that his kingdom prospered.”
Tibris made a small noise. Obviously, he’d never heard this story either. Margie sighed, and she turned toward me.
“During this time, Regner’s son Crotopos died. Died from an injury that no healer in his kingdom could fix. Any fae visitors had already fled the human kingdom, their seers warning them of the king’s evil heart. The hybrids were already wary of both fae and humans—and had closed their borders decades before. And so, the prince died—while his wife was pregnant with their unborn child—and King Regner knew that if his son had been fae or hybrid, he would have lived.”
I couldn’t imagine what it had been like for Regner to watch his son die, knowing he could have been saved. Knowing the wound would have healed if he were anything but human.
It must have been torture.
“It was enough to drive the king to madness,” Margie said, nodding at whatever she saw on my face. “And yet Regner wasn’t mad when he ordered his people to invade the fae lands. He was sane when he ordered the slaughter of a peaceful group of fae nymphs in the forest close to his border. He was sane when he planned how he would make the fae king pay. And he was sane when he turned his attention to the hybrids, because they had something he wanted.”
No matter what had happened to his son, it didn’t excuse Regner from what he’d done to the hybrids. I wanted to weep for my people. To rage. I wanted vengeance .
Tibris reached out and peeled my hand off the side of the table. I’d been clenching it, white-knuckled, as Margie told her story. “What did the hybrids have that Regner wanted?”
She sighed. “The narminoi couldn’t tell me. It was only after several visits that I put this much together.”
“Why do people believe Sabium’s lies and those of his line? How have they gotten away with it for so long?”
Margie shrugged, but her expression was bleak. “How do you control a population? You keep the people poor and uneducated. Tell them the same lie for centuries, and tie that lie to religion. Those people will believe you even when the truth is dancing naked in front of them. Because to believe otherwise would mean their entire world has always been a lie. And that realization is too difficult for most people to take.”
I could understand that. Sometimes—even if only for a few seconds—I wished I could turn back time and never know just how Sabium deceived us.
Vicer had already finished his plate, and he leaned back in his seat.
“You’ve seen the people here,” he said. “Seen how much magic they have. Most villagers like us will never visit the city. They’ll live their whole lives firmly believing that the gods only gave them back a tiny sliver of magic. And those who do visit? They’re told the gods gave the city people back more magic for a reason. The people here are simply more worthy.”
If I’d thought I was bitter, it was nothing compared to Vicer’s acerbic tone. And I could understand why. I’d only been here for a few hours. What must it be like for people like Vicer? I didn’t know what kind of power he had, only that it was the kind considered useful. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of villagers had been brought here to be of use to the crown, and I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to continually see just how well people in the city lived. The wealth and power here would be inconceivable to those who had never left our village. If Vicer had tried to tell them about the horseless carriages, most would have laughed.
I took a deep breath. “If hybrids are so powerful, how does the king kill us so easily?”
Vicer leveled me with his hard stare. “It takes three things for magic to grow. Use, time, and training. Raw power is one thing, but hybrids must learn to wield that power.”
A dull fury made my hands shake. We never had a chance to grow our power because wielding it was a death sentence. The king’s great-great-grandfather had ravaged our kingdom. And now Sabium continued the slaughter to cover his crimes.
Vicer’s eyes met mine. “I know you still have your power.”
He hadn’t changed. He still enjoyed keeping people off-balance. I just nodded. “Tibris told me you knew.”
“And yet, even trusting us as he does, your brother refused to ever tell us what power you had. I must admit I’m curious.”
I forced a smile. “Maybe I’ll tell you. But…I need to know if you can help me.”
“You want to get on a ship.”
“No. Well, yes. But not yet. Asinia is a hybrid too. And she was taken.”
Vicer’s expression turned mournful. And that was true grief in his eyes. He’d known Asinia even longer than I had. “I’m sorry to hear that. If she’s been scooped up by the king’s guards, she’ll be in his dungeon.”
I forced my voice to stay steady, even as desperation clawed at me. “I’m getting her out.” And I was counting on Vicer and whatever connections he had to help make that happen.
“We’re getting her out,” my brother said mildly.
“And how do you think you’ll do that?” Vicer’s words dripped with sarcasm.
“My power allows me to stop time for a few moments.”
Margie dropped her cup, staring at me. Then she startled, seeming to come back to herself, and her face reddened. “I’m sorry.” She stepped away to find a cloth, and Vicer studied me.
“You can stop time?”
This was the moment when I had to pretend to be much, much more confident than I really was. Vicer wouldn’t involve himself in my plans if he thought my power was undeveloped. “You want a demonstration?”
His eyes lit up. “Of course.”
I reached for my power, and it jumped into my grasp. Time stopped, and I held it just long enough to get to my feet and take a few steps closer to Vicer.
I released the thread, and everyone else unfroze. Vicer shot to his feet, the blood draining from his face.
“You— I— We—”
Tibris grinned at me. “You’ve done the unthinkable. You’ve managed to make Vicer speechless.”
“Well,” Vicer said, and his entire body bristled with energy, color returning to his cheeks. “This changes some things. I have someone who can get you false work papers. We currently have two people in the castle. They’re attempting to update our intel, help us map the castle, and undermine the king when they can. But none of our people has ever been able to get into the dungeon. You would be the first.”
For the first time since I’d vowed to get Asinia out of the dungeon, hope fluttered its wings in my chest. My body felt oddly light.
“Just how big is this…rebellion?” I asked.
Vicer gave me a cool look. “If you’re serious about getting into the castle, you know I can’t tell you that.”
Because if we were captured, we would be tortured. The less we knew, the better.
“But what I can tell you is that all the rebellion members we had in the castle were caught up in a random sweep. The king has an assessor search his servants occasionally to ensure they’re not hybrids. The final two rebels I’ve sent in are volunteers and they refuse to be pulled out, but we won’t send anyone else in again. It’s too dangerous.”
My heartbeat quickened, but I nodded. I knew what we were risking. The question was whether I could convince Tibris to stay behind.
One look at his stubborn expression and I knew the answer. He glowered at me, daring me to make the suggestion. I sighed. At least he wasn’t a hybrid.
Margie returned, her face still a little flushed as she avoided my eyes. Was my power that horrifying?
I cut that thought off at the knees. My power was horrifying. And dangerous. And incredibly useful. My power was going to allow me to free Asinia. My power was going to help us escape.
“It’ll take a day or two for us to get you papers,” Vicer said. “There are a few other things you’ll need to do in the meantime, along with information you’ll need to memorize.”
I studied him. Vicer liked Asinia, but he certainly wasn’t doing this out of benevolence. “And what is it that you want in exchange?”
Vicer smiled. “We have someone in the dungeons too. You get him out when you get Asinia out, and we’ll help you with everything you need.”