Chapter 50
FIFTY
At the crack of dawn, Zarya awoke, sensing the energy in the air. Everyone understood what was at stake today, and either they would make a statement or many would die trying. As she lay in bed next to Rabin, she clutched her necklace, holding on to the stone, seeking strength from the message inside. This was her purpose. She was supposed to be doing this. That meant the gods had to be on their side. Right?
She looked over to find Rabin awake.
“Couldn’t sleep, either?” he asked.
“Not really.”
He reached out and wrapped a large hand around her forearm.
“Whatever happens today, don’t leave my side. I can’t protect you otherwise.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he squeezed harder. “I know you can take care of yourself, but this is my job.” He paused. “And you are now my wife, and I will fight for you with every dying breath.”
“Wife,” she said with a small smile. “I’m not used to that yet.”
He arched a brow. “And what do you think?”
She shrugged. “I kind of like the sound of it. Husband .”
She actually loved the sound of it, but his ego was already big enough.
“Good,” he growled. “Because you’d better get used to it.”
He rolled over and kissed her, his hard body pressing her into the mattress. He framed her face with his hands and devoured her mouth, their tongues meeting and their hips writhing. He pulled up, his dark eyes gleaming as he ran the tip of his tongue over a sharp canine, causing a liquid pit of desire to flutter in her stomach.
She sighed, knowing they would have to cut this short.
“What do you think will happen today?” she asked, trying to focus on their task. “Do you think the royal family will listen?”
He shook his head. “I think they will fight back with everything they have. No one wants to disrupt a situation that benefits them entirely. But we have numbers on our side. It’s not as much as I hoped for, but it’s still a significant amount. I think we can at least make a statement.”
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” she whispered. “I won’t be able to live with it.”
“That isn’t possible,” he said. “War never comes without cost.”
She nodded. She knew that. She couldn’t help wishing there was another way, but centuries of oppression had proven that violence could only be met with force.
“Then let’s go,” she said. “Andhope we aren’t making a colossal mistake.”
An hour later, Zarya stood amongst the crowd outside the palace, hemmed in by the walls and simmering atmosphere. A similar platform had once again been erected for the hanging, only it was much higher and surrounded by several rows of guards on every side.
Zarya peered through the masses, keeping her eyes down and her hood up, recognizing many vanshaj she’d freed from their collars. The fake markings around their necks weren’t perfect—the artists had been forced to pick up their pace—but hopefully, they’d fool anyone who wasn’t looking too closely. She caught a few smiles and nods directed her way.
With his years of battle experience, Rabin was leading today’s charge, organizing different factions and doling out orders to be filtered throughout the vanshaj district and the rest of Ishaan at strategically determined points.
With this many people—and none of them trained soldiers—there were bound to be mistakes, but Rabin was mostly confident they could make up for some less-than-perfect technique with sheer brute force.
She hoped he was right.
The royal family perched on the balcony overlooking the square, including Miraan, who stood at the railing, seeking them out in the crowd. The execution wasn’t only a message to the citizens of Gi’ana—Dishani also hoped it would draw Zarya into her clutches.
“So I’m waiting to give the signal until after the prisoners come out?” she confirmed with Rabin.
Yasen stood nearby, also with this hood up and his gaze fixed on Miraan. They’d briefly debated about Miraan returning to the palace, but the prince had argued it would be suspicious if he weren’t present for such an important occasion. Plus he could help control things from the inside. Apsara and Suvanna also waited on the balcony for similar reasons while maintaining a careful distance from the prince.
“Yes,” Rabin answered in a low voice. “I want everyone accounted for. It will be easier to get them to safety if they’re already free of the dungeons.”
“Right,” she said.
“Let’s move closer to the front,” he urged, pressing on her lower back. He gestured to Yasen with his chin, who nodded before he followed. They eased their way through the crowd, which buzzed with nervous energy. Many of them didn’t know how to behave, burdened with the secrets weighing on their consciousness. She hoped the royals wouldn’t notice anything amiss.
They pushed their way almost to the edge, noting several Jadugara standing on the platform, staring over the square while dozens more stalked through the crowd, glaring at everyone leaping out of their way.
A boom of thunder echoed overhead just as the first drops of rain began to fall. She exchanged a worried glance with Rabin as they closed in. The plan was to rescue the prisoners, and when they were done, thousands of vanshaj would reveal their magic and their freedom before storming the palace, flooding the entrances, and overwhelming the guards. They’d lose access to their magic as soon as they passed into the halls, but that’s exactly why Rabin had insisted on weapons training for everyone.
“Get up there,” Rabin said, noting a small outcropping in the perimeter wall where she could stand above the crowd and send up the signal with a burst of fire in the sky.
The rain was starting to fall heavier, and the crowd appeared to grow increasingly nervous. Zarya hoped they’d bring the prisoners out soon. It felt like they were inside a balloon expanding with pressure, on the verge of exploding.
Her breath hitched with nervous apprehension when the door on the far side of the plaza slid open. Several soldiers emerged, leading a line of prisoners, each of them cuffed in iron around their wrists and ankles. Zarya recognized Vikas’s parents looking thin and frail, and she shot a look at Dishani, wondering how she could be so cruel.
As the rain fell harder, the soldiers directed the prisoners up to the platform, their chains dragging over the wood as they were roughly arranged across its length. They began dropping nooses around the trembling prisoners’ shoulders. Some looked at their feet while others searched the plaza, probably seeking out one last glimpse of their loved ones in the crowd.
Dishani watched it all without emotion, her face blank. Miraan stood next to her, his hands behind his back, playing the role of dutiful brother. A moment later, the Madan siblings looked to the crowd, their brows furrowing.
Zarya stretched up, trying to see what had caught their attention.
“What’s going on?” Zarya whispered to Rabin as he shook his head.
“A commotion of some kind.” He angled his body as if prepared to throw himself into the middle of whatever was happening.
And then Zarya heard the most devastating words she could have imagined. The one thing she hoped they’d get away with.
“His marking!” a Jadugara shouted, pointing to a young man who was covering his throat as if that might hide the damning evidence of what they’d all done. “It’s been tampered with!”
A pause seemed to roll through the crowd as his voice rang out over their heads like a death knell. Zarya went still, frozen in shock, before the tension snapped, and the crowd swelled and shoved, growing louder to the sounds of screaming and shouting.
The Jadugara were already circling, seizing vanshaj at will.
“The signal!” Rabin called. “Zarya! Now!”
She looked at him. This wasn’t at all what they’d planned, but she trusted he knew what he was doing. Nodding, she lifted a hand, shooting a column of fire towards the sky before it exploded into a shower of rainbow sparks.
She watched in horror as the crowd grew even more agitated, the taste of panic bubbling into the air. They’d lost control. She looked for Rabin, but he was no longer standing next to her. They’d been separated in the frenzy. A moment later, she spotted him wrestling against a crush of bodies, trying to get back to her.
Zarya dropped from her perch, shoved through the masses, and attempted to reach him, but he only seemed to be moving further away.
“Rabin!” she screamed as she was elbowed in the stomach and heaved into an unforgiving wall of bodies. Recovering, she continued fighting within a tangled mess of limbs. Screams pierced her ears, and she had no idea how they’d ever regain order or get their plans back on track.
A second later, she was seized by both arms and lifted off her feet by two massive royal soldiers. More of them surrounded her and were closing in.
“No!” she screamed, fighting and kicking, attempting to wrench from their hold.
“Rabin!” she screamed again as she reached for her magic, but it was already too late.
Something hard hit her on the back of the head before she went limp, and everything went black.
Rabin fought against the tide. Everything had gone to shit. The Jadugara were striking everyone down without mercy, magic flying in every direction. The vanshaj forgot every bit of their mediocre training in their panic. He’d known this was likely. It was nearly impossible to expect civilians without any battle training to keep it together when things went sideways.
Still. He’d hoped.
He’d been relying on the faint chance that Zarya’s destiny might somehow make this all work out. It had been a fool’s wish. A true soldier didn’t rely on chance.
He watched as she jumped from her perch, struggling to reach him. He fought in her direction, trying not to hurt anyone, but was shoved left and right in the press of bodies.
He wasn’t used to this feeling of utter helplessness and he hated it.
That’s when he saw two guards seize Zarya by each arm. She fought like a wildcat as more closed in around her, momentarily cutting her off from his view. Fuck .
“Zarya!” he roared as he continued to battle a human tide. “Zarya!”
Then he watched in horror as a soldier knocked her on the head before she went limp.
“Zarya!” He would destroy that asshole. Fucking tear him limb from limb. Every single one of them would suffer at his hands.
“Move!” Rabin shouted, shoving harder, no longer caring who got in his way. A guard heaved Zarya up on a shoulder, her arms and legs dangling as they carried her off. Rabin tried to follow, but he couldn’t untangle himself from the press of limbs and panic, almost as if fate was trying to keep him away.
He pushed through the crowd with another thrust, closing the distance as he stumbled against the crush.
The soldiers reached the palace, the lead guards slipping through a door.
“Zarya,” he screamed as he lunged. The others quickly stepped inside as he ran, just as the door slammed in his face. He rammed his entire body into it, backing up and then ramming it again, but it was solid wood, banded with iron, and offered no give. He speared a beam of copper light at the handle, but it dissipated against it. More fucking magic working against him.
“What happened?” Yasen yelled over the cacophony, coming up beside him.
“They took her.” Rabin backed up, scanning the palace, his mind recalculating as he quickly took stock of every window and exit.
“Shit! What do we do?”
“Come with me,” Rabin said, spinning on his heel and stalking away.