Chapter 25 #2
“You don’t have to go,” Daisy argues. “Finn could protect you.”
I swallow at her words. I wish they could be true. My thoughts fly to Cygnus’s mother, the spy who served Rodrick faithfully until he decided she’d exhausted her purpose.
“Maybe he could,” I say thickly. “But not forever.”
“He loves you,” she counters.
I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter. We’re at war, and it’s going to catch up with us eventually.”
“But leaving now could kill you,” Daisy reasons.
“I could face worse than death if I stay.”
Torture, a long and painful execution…What horrors would they drag out for me?
We appraise each other for a long moment, and her small features are hard. Quietly, she says, “If you can get to the east quarter of the city, my nana knows how to get people papers.”
Her eyes blaze. I swallow, working to absorb her meaning.
“You might have to wait a few weeks or months, but she can help get you out.” She squeezes my hands. “I hope you can make it to safety. You’re a little weird, but you’ve been kind to me, Lyria. I pray the Almighty goes with you.”
When I pull her into one last hug, I wonder if I’ve been underestimating Daisy.
My last stop is my tower, where I collect my belongings and Dante.
It’s dark as I steal downstairs and out of the palace.
The fox’s little orange head peeks out from my pack, but thankfully he remains quiet.
The air is thick and heavy, like it’s about to rain.
There’s so much chaos in the wake of the attack that nobody notices one small figure weaving through the muddy scene.
I find the stables deserted except for the horses that poke their heads out of their stalls, eyeing me curiously.
It’s not hard to find an unattended saddle.
I pick the horse I rode on the way here, a big bay mare. “You ready for another long ride?” I whisper, slipping into her stall.
We exit out through the forecourt, passing clusters of mourners.
Some groups are gathered in prayer around bodies that still haven’t been moved from the battle scene; some are loading debris into carts.
There’s a squad of VIA milling around, shouting orders.
I hug the edges of the court, keeping my hood low.
No one stops me as I ride to the main gate. There’s a long stretch of slowly declining hillside that leads toward the drawbridge and the outer wall. It’s a three- or four-mile ride at least.
This hill was hit hard by the blasts. Parts are still burning, the embers wafting smoke as mist begins to drizzle over the whole miserable scene. I kick my mare’s sides to pick up speed, driving us into a trot, which quickly builds to a canter.
We’ve come more than halfway down when I hear it.
More hoofbeats, sounding from behind me.
I whip around to find another rider galloping toward me.
It’s too dark to make out their face, but I instinctively spur my horse forward.
We pick up into a sprint and tear on ever faster, but the horseman is hot in pursuit.
Then I hear someone at the wall roar: “CLOSE THE GATE!”
I’m horror-stricken as the drawbridge starts rattling.
This is it. The end of my story.
I’m going to be apprehended, either by this rider or the soldiers at the gate. There’ll be no stopping them from examining my ears. It’s a short ride between here and the dungeons. Either I make it through this gate, or I’m not leaving this castle.
The drawbridge very slowly begins to rise.
With another kick, I urge my mare into a gallop.
She takes the cue and doubles her speed.
We’re flying as fast as the wind now, hooves clattering, mud slinging as we hurtle toward the drawbridge, which creeps higher by the second.
She’ll run her heart out, I think, but the gate’s closing too fast. We’re not going to make it… .
There’s nothing I can do except pull around hard before we crash. We loop to a stop, rounding toward my pursuer as he rides up and then vaults a dismount. His hood falls back as he runs toward me.
When I realize it’s Finn, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Something in between happens.
Has he come to kill me himself?
“Lyria!” he calls out, staggering toward me. “Thank God.”
I see why I didn’t recognize him. He’s in that black uniform that I’ve seen around the palace—the dress uniform of the Frumentari.
My feet have locked into place.
“Why are you here?” I demand as he draws closer.
Finn’s eyes are wide with remorse, but I notice he won’t meet my gaze. “I came here to stop you.”
My guts lurch. “So I’m your prisoner now?”
“No!” Finn says. “I’m trying to protect you!”
He grabs the mare’s reins.
I slide out of the saddle, landing hard next to him. I sweep out with my Talent, confirming we’ve got an audience. The gateway is filled with guards—apprehensive, taut, awaiting a signal.
“Please, Finn,” I implore him. “Just let me go. It’s the best thing for both of us.”
“The best thing is to stay together.” He’s growing desperate. “I have no intention of holding you against your will. But I beg you to be rational. I can’t protect you outside these walls. Nothing has to change just because I know the truth.”
“How can you say that?” I ask. “It’s changed everything!”
“It doesn’t have to! If you want nothing to do with me, fine. But I can’t let you run away and get yourself killed for my deficiencies.”
“That’s not what I’m doing,” I argue.
“Yes, it is! Can you really tell me you’d be safer out there than you are in this palace?! We are fully at war. There’s not anywhere left in Verdinae that’s safe for someone like you.”
“You are Verdinae!” I scream. “Don’t you get that?
” All the rage I’ve been suppressing, all the reservations I’ve held back, come pouring out at once.
“You might care about me, but what about the rest of the Elves? What about Evermore? Your family has spent hundreds of years killing people like me. You are Verdinae as much as I am magic. You’ve devoted your whole life to the empire. At least be a man and own that fact.”
His face goes very flat as the color washes away. “But maybe that’s why we were supposed to meet,” he says softly. “So that you could show me how I’m wrong. You’ve already changed me. I believe you’re a better person than I am, Lyria. I’m willing to see the world from your eyes.”
“No!” I shake my head. “I’m not a supporting character in your story. I’m not some stepping stone on your way to the throne. Bringing me here was a mistake—saving you was a mistake. I should have never left the Ironwoods.”
Finn recoils like I’ve slapped him. “Stop it!”
“Stop what?”
“Stop pushing me away! Stop acting like this doesn’t matter.”
“What doesn’t matter?”
“This.” He gestures between us. “You and me. Whatever weird force drew us together in that swamp.”
“There can be nothing between us,” I force through my teeth, willing truth to the words. “There is nothing between us.”
“Why are you doing that? Why are you lying?” He edges forward a step. “Is this about what we did before?”
“No!”
“Are you sure? Because if I made you uncomfortable, if I pushed you too far…”
“You didn’t push me. At all.” I bury my face in my hands.
Finn closes the distance between us, taking my shoulders in his hands. “Then what’s going on?”
“There is no good way for this to end! Don’t you get that? I’m an Elf. You kill my people. You’re going to marry Odessa, or some lady of somewhere, and I’m…” I choke up.
I’m what?
I’m going to go back to the Ironwoods to my mother? I’ll find a hospital that needs my skills, where I’ll pick up broken pieces of Rodrick’s war until I’m as bitter as Cygnus?
“I’m not someone who belongs with a prince of Verdinae,” I finish. I can’t express anything else.
“Lyria, I need you to listen.” Finn draws his hands to my face.
He tilts it toward him, making me gaze up into his eyes.
It starts to rain. “I have spent my entire life trying to feel the way that you make me feel. The way you look at me sometimes…” He breaks off; then his voice thickens.
“I want to be a better man for you. I want to do better, for you.”
I should look away, but I don’t.
I know how Finn feels about me. I can sense it. I’ve always been able to sense it. It’s just taken this long to wipe away all the layers of self-doubt. I’m not alone in this. He’s in love with me, too. He knows my secret, and he still loves me.
That doesn’t mean I don’t have to leave him.
“You’re not listening.” I pull back. “My mind is made up.”
“No, you’re not listening to me.” Finn moves to take my hands in his.
“I want you exactly as you are, Lyria. I love everything about you, including the fact that you are an Elf. Including your Talent. I’m not naive about what stands between us.
I’m prepared to navigate it. I’m prepared to change. I want to fight for you. For this.”
His words are what I’ve been wanting to hear all this time. But now it’s not enough.
Still, I can’t pull away.
“Please, just let me show you one thing. And if it doesn’t change your mind, you can go. But I need you to see it first.”
I stare at him, trembling in the pouring rain. Every muscle in my body is screaming at me to run. But the anchor in my chest pulls harder.
“Fine.” I surrender. “Show me.”