Chapter 26
Istep into a puddle of the guard’s blood as the prisoners file out of the dungeon.
Shouts spill from down one of the hallways, and my chest tightens.
I warned them that I could get them out of the dungeon, but not out of the castle.
They don’t know the path of the lesser frequented hallways, but with the disturbance, they may stand a chance at sneaking through the castle and out to the harbor.
“Find a pirate named Cassio,” I say as they pass. “And tell him I sent you.”
They branch off in different directions, their hands unbound. Free for as long as they can manage.
The final one slips through the doorway, and I let it fall shut, pocketing the keyring into my loose pants. With any luck, the gnarled skeleton keys will fit into other doors.
I stride deeper into the castle, clinging to the edges of the hallway. Unlike the prisoners I just freed, I don’t have the privilege of sneaking through undetected. One glimpse at my blood-stained shirt, and I’ll be arrested.
The castle walls stop rattling, and an eerie silence blankets the hall. I keep my footsteps light, near silent as the marble floor gives way to a carpeted runner. White busts punctuate the space to my left and right, and the lanterns get bigger, the lights brighter.
My fingernails drag over the stone wall, and I come to the sweeping, grand staircase.
A faint, weak tap filters through my mind—almost the ghost of a whisper. I crack open my mental door, and Kressa’s voice is barely a breath as she says, Where are you?
I swallow, squeezing my hands against the gloves. Nearly out, you?
Just left the courtyard, barely. No emerald.
I shut the pathway to her, and a weight lifts from my chest. She will be returning to the ship empty-handed, but at least she’ll be safe. One less thing to worry about.
Booted footsteps tap against the stairs a floor below me, followed by voices, and my heart shoots into my throat. I run up the flight of stairs and bank left at the landing, counting the doors until I come to the one I shared with Thea for nearly a decade.
As if I never left, my hand fits around the knob, and I shove the door open.
My heart stutters to a stop, and the air leaves my lungs.
“Finally,” Isolde says.
I stand, frozen as the door swings shut behind me. My lips part, words waiting to tumble out, but I can’t find the right place to start. The last time Isolde and I were this close to each other, she was holding a blade to my throat in the third trial.
She pulls a small piece of parchment from her pocket and unfolds it. The barest hint of a smile teases at her lips, and her gaze flicks up to mine as she waves the note in the air. “Meet me where it all began.”
The correspondence I sent her. “You told me to write in code, and it was the best I could do.”
Her fingers trail over the mattress that was mine only a few days ago. The room hasn’t been touched—my sheets still thrown back, Thea’s lipstick lying on the vanity. It’s as if it’s frozen in time. A different life.
But everything about Isolde has changed.
Scars mar the right side of her face—her skin a puckered, light pink where the rest is white. From the scalding wave I smashed into her.
“I’m so sorry,” I breathe, taking a step closer. I reach out a hand, but my breath catches at the rhodium gloves around my wrists. I close my hand into a fist, dropping it to my side.
She shrugs. “After what I did, it’s the least I deserve.”
Standing, she closes the space between us and lifts my hand in hers. She holds my gaze as she slides my fingers out of the glove one at a time, then turns my palm over.
She presses my hand to her cheek and leans into it. “I’ve missed your touch.”
Heat blooms in my core, flames lapping at my underbelly. I grit my teeth against the fire, barely holding it at bay. With the other glove remaining on my left hand, I can staunch it, but barely.
Isolde’s blonde curls drape over my wrist, and I pick one up with my free hand, twisting it around my fingers. My chest aches at how easy it is to fall into her again—as if nothing happened.
“You killed Marianne,” I breathe. “She did nothing wrong, and you murdered her.”
She swallows and nods. “There’s a lot I have to apologize for. Harming Marianne. The way I treated you. The promises I broke. I was so focused on everything I had to accomplish that I let myself get distracted.”
The space behind my eyes sting as the words fall from her mouth—each one sincere and genuine. I was the only person in her life she felt safe with, and I ripped that out from under her.
“I would have helped you, you know,” she whispers, as tears gather on the tips of her eyelashes. “If you would have told me you were Harriet. I would have helped you, and we could have taken down Caelus together. What I did—how I turned you in. That wasn’t me.”
I swallow my tears. “I know.”
“It was the only thing I could think of doing to get myself away from Caelus. My power was depleting, and I was desperate. I was so close to death.”
Pinching her chin between my fingers, I lift her head until our gazes meet. The whites of her eyes are rimmed with red, stark against the light blue of her irises. So many memories nestles into the silver flecks in her eyes.
I blow out a breath. “I forgive you.”
She cups my face and presses her forehead against mine. “I forgive you. I would forgive you in any lifetime, Briar. Unconditionally.”
My heart thumps against my ribcage, and I lean into her, memorizing the way her chest rises as she breathes. The bond I share with Kressa is one entirely out of my control—decided by the fates. But this, what I share with Isolde? This is something I chose a decade ago.
“I don’t have much time,” I whisper, forcing myself to pull back.
We share a breath, the air between us nothing but a sliver. A wisp of air travels over my wrist and dips beneath the fabric of my shirt, snaking around my forearm. Isolde’s power pauses at the space over my heart.
She presses her palm against the center of my chest, over the steady beating of my heart. “What do you need?”
Each muscle in my body relaxes, one by one. “My compass, then I need to get Inez.”
“Your compass?”
I shift away from her and cross the room to my vanity. Crouching in front of it, I pull open the bottom drawer. “I need it to get back to Delterran. If I don’t have it, I could be sailing the seas for weeks trying to find it.”
“This compass,” Isolde says, coming up behind me. “It’s not like a regular one, correct? The coordinates aren’t cardinal, but made of constellations?”
Throwing the folded linens out of the way, I nod.
My heart lodges in my throat, and I rip the contents out of the drawer, tossing them to the ground beside me.
The drawer is empty.
“You won’t find it,” Isolde whispers.
I freeze, my hands shaking as I turn and face her.
She looks down at me, her hair a curtain around her face. A swallow works its way down her throat. “Kressa has it.”
Gripping the edge of the vanity, I stand. “What are you talking about? I’ve been with her for the last week, and I haven’t seen it once.”
“Before the third trial, I saw her leaving your room late one night. I thought she was visiting you.” She gnaws at her lip, averting her gaze. “But she had something in her hand—a gold compass. I thought it was the strangest thing, that it seemed useless without the typical coordinates.”
My brow furrows, and I take a step back, my hip bumping into the vanity.
“You can’t trust anything she says,” Isolde whispers.
I shake my head, but my tongue turns to cotton in my mouth. How many times has Kressa told me not to trust her? That she’d do anything for her court.
“But why would she take it?” I say.
“Power.” Isolde dips her hand into her pocket and pulls out an object wrapped in black, shimmering fabric. “The exact reason why I took this—to keep her from having too much.”
She unfolds the fabric, and a pit opens in my stomach.
“It was you who took the emerald?”
The stone catches the light. While solid on the outside, slivers of emerald and forest green shift around the core of the stone, as if chasing each other.
Isolde nods, folding the fabric back over it. I study the woven threads—the way they shimmer, and look down at my gloved hand. She’s keeping the emerald covered in rhodium. That’s why Elayne couldn’t detect it.
“Think about it, Briar. Kressa has earth power, and I watched her wield fire that day on the dock. And now that I know she stole your compass?” She shakes her head. “She can’t be trusted. I had to take this, only so that I knew she wouldn’t become too powerful.”
I stare at the wrapped stone. “But what are you going to do with it?”
She unravels my fingers and sets it in my gloved palm.
Closing my hand around it, she says, “Prove that we want the same thing. That you can trust me as much as I trust you. Do what you will with that—whether you keep it or hand it to Kressa the moment you see her. But I believe, deep in my heart, that we both know Kressa shouldn’t be the one to wield this much power. ”
My thoughts spin. If Kressa found the compass before my identity was revealed, she must have suspected I was close to the Sea Court royalty. Or she was spying on me. Either way, I can’t trust her.
“It’s safe with me,” I say, shoving it deep into my pocket. “I’ll get my compass back.”
Her smile pulls at the scar on her cheek, and she weaves her fingers through my hair. “I never doubted you, Briar.”
“What about you?” I say. “You’re ruling the Sky again?”
She winces, tilting her head. “It’s not quite that easy. I don’t have the force Callum has, and the people of Atlas still have no faith in me. But I have my power to myself now, and things will change, soon.”
“And Inez? Where is she?”
“I have no idea. One of Callum’s guards is the one who took her from Ignata, and I haven’t seen her once.” Her hand drops from my head, and as if someone called her name, her attention shoots to the doorway. “I have to go.”
My brow furrows. “But I need your help.” I grab her hand. “Come with me. Help me find Inez and free the rest of my crew. I can’t do it without you.”
“And you won’t have to.” She pulls me closer and presses a kiss to the center of my forehead. “I have no idea where Callum is keeping Inez, but I will return to Ignata as soon as I can. I’ll send word.”
She pulls back and twists toward the door, but I step in front of her. “They’re going to execute me the day after I return.”
Her eyes widen, and the blood drains from her face. “You must find a way to stop them. You’re a smart woman, Briar. I know you can find a way.”
My eyes widen, silently pleading for her to stay—to do something, anything except walk out that door and leave me.
“I’ll come. I promise you,” she says, just as she slips around me and out the door.
Silence seeps into the space, coating me like a second skin. I press my hand over the emerald in my pocket, and a pit forms in my stomach.
My hand is bare.
Isolde accidentally took the glove with her.