Chapter 35
Stars blink in the moonless night, and Julian offers me a hand as I lower into the small rowboat.
I take my spot on the bench beside Thea, and Celia takes up her other side—their hands encased in rhodium cuffs.
Julian steps between us and settles at the bow, watching as Elayne takes the space behind me.
I stare through the dark at the rowboat in front of us, where Inez sits behind Kressa. Inez tucks her elbows in at her sides, shivering despite the blanket thrown over her shoulders.
My muscles ache to pull her close, to insist she ride with us, but Kressa insisted we can’t be trusted not to run off with her.
As if we’d abandon the rest of our crew.
My stomach churns.
When I agreed to leave Ignata, it was only under the guise that I’d return the next morning with Isolde, ready to invade the castle and free my crew. It’s been nearly a week since then, and there’s no telling if Golan bought the lie of someone breaking them out.
Or if Gemma was able to pass as me for that long.
Nicole climbs into the final rowboat, cramped and heavy with the women we rescued from the safe house. I scan their faces, and a pit opens in my stomach. Nicole promised they’d be safe wherever the Fire Court houses their camp, but I can’t be too sure.
Owls hoot in the distance, buried deep within the forest’s canopy, and I tuck my worries deep within my chest. From this rowboat, there is nothing I can do to prevent what any of us encounter once we reach land.
I watch as waves roll gently around us, thin slivers of whitecaps kissing the hull of the rowboat. Closing my eyes, I pull in a deep breath of salty sea air. If Kressa isn’t successful at convincing her father not to kill me, it might be the last time I taste the ocean.
In my periphery, I catch Thea doing the same. I don’t need to read their minds to know what the rest of them are thinking. If I’m executed, it’s not long before they are as well.
Julian dips his oar into the water and heaves us forward, following in the wake of Kressa’s boat. The ship steadily fades into the night behind us, the night sky filtering through the tattered masts.
A stillness fills the air as the waves disappear, taking the sea salt with it, and we weave through the freshwater channel. An hour goes by, with nothing but the stifled coughs from Inez and the slap of oars against the water.
I shift on the bench, scanning the shoreline. Nicole whistles, and Kressa looks over her shoulder, giving her nod. Nicole veers off to the side, aiming her rowboat toward a dense thicket of bushes.
“That’s where they’ll get off,” Julian explains, tilting his head toward a narrow dock jutting from the shore.
Moss clings to the sides of the planks, but Nicole guides the rowboat against it. She steps out of the hull and, one by one, helps the women out. Without a backward glance, they disappear into the tree line.
Kressa’s boat floats beside ours, and she tilts her chin at Julian. “We have no idea what’s waiting for us at the harbor.”
His hands tighten around the oar. “At this hour?”
She nods, staring into the distance ahead. A breeze twists through her hair, and she sucks in her cheek, turning her attention to me. “Can I trust you?”
An uneasiness sweeps over me, but I give her a quick nod.
“Briar can row the boat from here,” she says. “Julian, you’ll come with Inez and me. We can’t make any mistakes.”
Julian twists and hands me the oar. His eyes sweep over me, studying, and he stands from the bow. Kressa maneuvers her boat closer, and with a grace no one from the Earth Court should have, Julian boards her boat.
“Don’t follow too close,” Kressa says, shadows dancing in her eyes.
My throat works on a swallow, and I step over the bench, settling myself at the bow.
“So it’s true,” Celia whispers. But she isn’t looking at me, or the boat directly in front of us. Her gaze is pinned on the wall of trees Nicole and the women disappeared through.
Lowering onto the seat, I dip the oar into the water. “What’s true?”
“The Fire Court is back.”
I gnaw on my lip, unable to face her as I follow in Kressa’s wake. “Apparently, they never left.”
“And you can wield fire,” she adds.
I shake my head. “I can only wield it through my bond with Kressa. She’s the one who has some sort of connection to the Fire Court.”
There’s a weighted silence to the air. “And you wield it through the bond with her.”
A pit opens in my stomach, churning as a cold sweat breaks at my nape. That was a detail I’ve had yet to tell them—one that I was keeping close to the chest. “It doesn’t mean anything. We’re trying to figure out a way to break it.”
It’s not a complete lie. Kressa has mentioned trying to find a way to cut the tether between us, but even the thought of tearing away something so vital feels wrong. Unnatural.
“How ironic,” Celia says. “She’s your bonded, but you were arranged to marry her brother.”
I suck in a cheek, not allowing myself to imagine the possibility of what would have happened if I simply married him. How many lives could have been spared.
We paddle around a curve, and lights blink to life—low lanterns casting a glow into the night sky from the houses nestled into the foothills. The castle looms in the distance, its black marble exterior like a reaper.
Kressa stiffens, and her hands falter on the oar. A chill skates down my spine.
The harbor comes into view, where bodies line the dock—their figures nothing more than shadows.
A torch flares to life and lights up a single face.
Golan.
Cursing under my breath, I pull a glove from my hand and force my way into Kressa’s mind. Did you know he would be here?
But the moment I think the words, panic floods the bond like serrated blades. You need to hide the rowboat. Now.
“What the fuck is this?” Celia hisses.
I don’t have time to explain. “Get down.”
With the moonless night as cover, I force my oar into the water and slow us to a stop, pivoting toward the shoreline. My heart rattles in my chest, and I hold my breath as the overhang of the tree line crests over us.
How did they know? I say.
She goes silent, and I slip the glove back on my hand. If Elias is up there with the king, I can’t have him trying to rummage through my thoughts.
Not even the birds chirp in the trees surrounding us, and I spare a glance at my crew.
Our gazes meet, and I press a finger to my lips.
Crouching down, I row closer, keeping to the dense overgrowth.
The only person I can trust to relay their conversation to me is Inez, and there’s no guarantee she’ll walk out of this alive.
Our boat skims the muddied shore, brushing against shrubs, and I stop near a bank—close enough to hear but far enough to go unnoticed.
Kressa slows to the docks. A hand reaches out, helping her guide the rowboat against the wooden planks. The single light flickers, and I catch the sandy hair and deep green eyes. Elias.
She takes his hand and steps onto the dock, pinning her shoulders back. A vise wraps around my chest, squeezing. Despite the tilt of her chin and the steady gait of her steps, I can almost feel her heart racing in my chest. The sour taste of her fear on my tongue.
“I see you recovered the missing crew member,” Golan says, lifting a brow in Inez’s direction.
Kressa pauses in front of her father and offers him a deep bow. “As you requested.”
A shiver runs up my spine at the compliance—the submission in her tone. The willingness to obey. She straightens, and I scan the profile of her face. If she goes back on her word and doesn’t vouch for my life, this will all be for nothing.
“As for the emerald?” Golan says.
She clasps her hands behind her back, hiding the way her fingers wring around each other. “It’s still unaccounted for.”
A muscle feathers in Golan’s jaw, and I dig my fingernails into the wooden oar. He steps closer, glaring down the bridge of his nose as he towers over her. Her shoulders remain straight, but I feel the urge for her to curl them inwards—make herself smaller.
“You’re lucky you’re valuable,” Golan hisses, just loud enough to carry over the calm waters.
His hands ball into fists, blanching his knuckles.
“Until we recover the emerald and regain our power to its full strength, we’ll have to take other precautions.
In your absence, I have secured an alliance with another noble—one that is imperative for the success and survival of our court. ”
“Yes, father,” Kressa says. “Of course.”
“We don’t have power to offer as a dowry, but we’ll manage.”
The air sours in my lungs, a lump rising in my throat.
Kressa swallows. “Dowry?”
He nods. “Considering you failed to find the emerald, we’ll need to raise our forces. The noble has plenty of soldiers in his territory, and he has already allied himself with us. Luckily, he is unwed and agreeable to marriage.”
“But father, I—”
“Will be the willing trade our court needs.”
My hand hovers over the emerald in my pocket. I could save Kressa from the fate I so narrowly avoided—all I’d have to do is hand it over.
But then I’d lose the only bargaining power I have. Kressa would have too many questions about where I found it and why I didn’t give it to her right away. There’s too much at stake.
“Of course,” Kressa says, her voice unsteady. “It would be an honor.”
Julian helps Inez out of the rowboat. One of the guards steps forward and wraps his hand around her upper arm, pulling her into the darkness. My chest constricts as he leads her down the docks and into a waiting carriage. One prison to the next.
“I heard word of a fire back in Sarenia,” Golan continues as Julian joins Kressa’s side. “Is that were you recovered the girl?”
Thea shifts behind me, lifting to a crouch by my side. “What are you going to do?”
“Stay here until it’s safe.”
She shakes her head and lowers her voice. “Not that. The emerald.”
“Nothing has changed.” A swallow works its way down my throat, and I adjust the oar in my hands. “My priority is our court.”
She studies me, and I can’t tell whether the shadows in her eyes are from admiration or disappointment. Nodding, she slinks back, settling at the floor of the hull beside Celia.
“Yes,” Kressa says. “But I know nothing about a fire. It must have happened after we already left.”
“They discovered it was caused by unnatural forces.”
My stomach pitches, and Golan turns on his heel, guiding Kressa away from the rowboat.
She furrows her brows. “What do you mean?”
“Between the wyverns attacking us, and the blatant show of power in Sarenia, it’s obvious. The Fire Court has returned, and until they are wiped out, none of us are safe.”
My breath catches. I’ve known my entire life how big of a threat the Fire Court was, but to hear it said so plainly twists my stomach. Perhaps that’s why Kressa has allied herself with them—why she took my compass. With that much power backing her, she’d be unstoppable.
“Then we will do what needs to be done,” Kressa says with a decisive nod. “Any changes regarding Queen Calisdana?”
I lean forward, straining my ears as their voices begin to fade in the distance.
“Hasn’t given us any trouble. Her crew, however. There’s more of them missing—as if someone is breaking into the castle and setting them free.”
“Any idea who it could be?”
He shakes his head. “We did our worst, yet none of the prisoners talked.”
My spine stiffens. There’s no telling what Celia, Thea, and Elayne will go back to once we’re in the castle. Golan opens the carriage door for Kressa, and as she steps into the interior, she glances my way.
I slip off a glove.
I’ll come back for you, she says.