Chapter 54
DIEM
Even with Lumnos a continent away, the brush of Luther’s skin felt like coming home.
He crushed me against him as if he might tuck me inside him, where the only fearsome power I would ever confront was the fierceness of his love.
I threw my arms around his neck, forgetting hope and hate alike as I gasped in his woodsy musk.
Though danger surrounded us on every side, in that moment, it felt powerless to hurt us.
Reality came crashing back as my eyes cracked open to see the two cloaked figures walking up behind him. “Luther, watch out!”
I could feel his reluctance to let me go as he pulled his sword and shoved me away—right into Henri’s grasp.
I braced for a blow, but Henri just nudged me behind him. He pulled another knife from a sheath on his calf and joined Luther at his side. As the hooded figures approached, Henri and Luther exchanged a few words, then Luther lowered his sword.
I stared at their backs, blinking and confused. The figures stopped in front of Luther. One leaned to the side and shook his head at me.
“If you keep disappearing on us, Queenie, we’re gonna have to put a bell around your neck.”
“Taran?” I cried.
He placed a palm on Henri’s face and shoved him out of the way, then strolled forward to wrap me in a hug. “You could have just told me you didn’t want to be the dagger-bearer at our mating ceremony. You didn’t have to go to all this trouble to get away.”
Luther pulled me out of Taran’s hold and tucked me back into his side. He pressed his lips to my forehead, lingering there as tension unspooled from his muscles. “I told you I would never let anyone tear us apart,” he breathed against my skin. “Not even a god.”
“He turned into Scary Lu again,” Taran said, shivering. “I thought he was gonna skewer Alixe if she didn’t march the army here to get you.”
I stiffened. “No—you have to send the army home. Ophiucae is too powerful. He’ll take all their minds if he—”
“Relax,” Taran interrupted. “The army’s at home. Lu brought something better.” He grinned and threw an arm around the other hooded figure. “The men of House Bellator.”
The second figure pulled his hood down. “Don’t start,” he warned, seeing the outrage building on my face.
I glared at Taran, then at Luther. “You brought my little brother? Are you fucking mad?”
I tried to shove out of Luther’s hold, but Lumnos herself couldn’t have convinced him to let me go this time. “It was Teller’s choice,” he said, his tone gently scolding.
“I don’t care,” I snapped. “He’s a mortal.”
“We’re all mortals today,” Taran said. He wiggled his fingers. “See? No magic. We took flameroot so Evil Daddy wouldn’t sense us coming.”
“Stop calling him that,” Teller said. “Ophiucae’s not her father.”
“A kid can have two fathers,” Taran argued. “Andrei was Good Daddy, and Ophiucae is Evil Daddy.” He smirked at Luther. “Never thought I would meet anyone with a worse father than ours, but I think Queenie wins.”
I fought the urge to defend Ophiucae, glancing over my shoulder to see if he was still in the grasslands. My attention stopped on Henri instead. He stood apart from our group, turned half away, gaze fixed on the ground.
Luther’s hand tightened on my waist as he followed my stare. “The key,” he called out.
Henri’s head popped up. He pulled a key from his pocket and reached for my arm, but Luther’s glare stopped him short. He swallowed and held it out to me. “For the other arm.”
I looked down and realized that my wrist hadn’t slipped free of its shackle—it had been unlocked. While I’d been doing everything in my power to kill him, Henri had been trying to set me free.
“You were supposed to come alone,” he said to Luther.
“Can’t imagine why he didn’t trust you,” Teller muttered with a blistering glare.
I frowned at Luther as he took the key and unlocked my other wrist. “You and Henri are working together?”
The iron bindings thumped to the grass. Luther pulled out a strip of fabric from inside his coat. Scrawled across it, in a burnt sienna ink of dried blood, were a few brief words:
Three days. Sophos Library. Come alone. —H
“It was tied to the leg of a messenger hawk,” Luther explained. “Along with this.” He pulled out a second object and let it dangle from his hand. The moonlight reflected off its spinning circular surface with a gold-and-crimson glint.
“My necklace,” I gasped.
“I took it off you in the boat,” Henri said. “I knew Vance would steal it if he saw it.”
“Why would you help me escape?” I asked. “You helped them take me from Lumnos.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t know you’d be on that boat. I went with Brant so I could find Vance and kill them both for what they did—what we did—to Andrei. I should have done it the day it happened.” He looked down at his feet. “I was . . . confused.”
“You were a coward,” Teller snapped.
Henri didn’t argue. “I’d do anything to relive that day again.”
“You kept working with him,” I shot back. “You brought me to Vance in that canal, and you told me how happy you were that I was working with him again. You brought him to the funeral.”
Henri’s eyes filled with tears. “He said that framing the Descended for Andrei’s death would turn you against them. And it worked—you agreed to help the Guardians. I thought if we could free the mortals together, everything would be worth it. One death to save so many lives—”
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Teller said.
“I’ll help,” Taran growled.
A wave of nausea crashed over me. I sagged against Luther as the full weight of the truth dragged me down. Their awful, heinous plan had worked. I’d judged Henri for losing himself to his hatred, but I’d done the very same thing.
Luther cupped my face and begged me not to blame myself as Teller and Taran launched accusations like knives at Henri, who alternated between pleading for forgiveness and laying all the fault on Vance.
I was tired of the constant debate over who was most to blame.
Every single person in Emarion had opinions to spare on who got us into this darkness and who stood in the way of getting us out.
Did their condemnation make the world any safer?
Was my father any less dead? I was so gods-damned sick of seeing justice bring no peace for anyone—just more blood, more corpses, and more blame.
“Let’s go home,” I whispered to Luther.
He sent Henri to retrieve the lantern while Taran and Teller searched the fallen mortals for weapons, then he gently swept aside my hair and secured my pendant back around my neck.
“Obaneryn is waiting for us in a boat on the outer coast. He’ll use the tides to get us out of Ophiucae’s reach, then Sorae will pick us up once she’s back from Umbros. ”
“Sorae is in Umbros?”
“Your mother’s spy sent word that Vance and his men were headed that way to attack. We couldn’t get your army there in time, so Sorae went to protect it.”
My heart swelled at her loyalty, still serving me even in her freedom. I tried hard not to think about how easily Ophiucae could turn her back into a slave, and how powerless I’d be to stop it.
And how easily he could do the same to Luther, Teller, and Taran.
The others returned, and Henri handed the lantern to me. “I’ll take your place in the cell and pretend to be sleeping,” he said, pulling the hood of his cloak back over his head. “He won’t notice you’re gone until it’s too late.”
“He’ll kill you when he finds out,” I said.
“Good,” Teller said. “He’s earned it.”
Henri nodded in agreement with us both, and though the weight in my stomach grew heavier, I couldn’t bring myself to argue.
Taran threw Henri two middle fingers and a smile, then he and Teller started eastward. Luther gently nudged me to follow.
I resisted. “What about Doriel? They’re still in the cell.”
“Doriel’s alive?” Taran said, stopping. “How does that little worm keep escaping death?”
“I see that look, D,” Teller said. “We are not saving Doriel. They’re the reason Perthe is dead.”
My conscience tore in two. More blood, more corpses, more blame . . .
“Take Diem to the boat,” Luther ordered Teller. “I promised Obaneryn I would save Doriel if I could. He was certain they were still alive.” He looked at me. “I should have known.”
“I’m going with you,” I insisted.
“No,” four voices answered in unison.
“We’re all going with you,” I clarified. “And we’re all getting out of here safely. Including Doriel.” Teller opened his mouth to argue, and I shot him a look. “This isn’t who you are, Tel. You don’t wish death on people. You have a good heart—don’t let them take that from you, too.”
I turned and marched toward the city. Luther followed, holding tight to my hand and calling out orders for the others to haul the mortals’ bodies to the library steps.
Getting into the cell was going to be harder than getting out had been. The library’s front was bathed in light, and there were too many men patrolling the city.
“We need a distraction,” I said.
“We need whiskey,” Taran said wistfully.
Luther gave him a disapproving look, but Henri’s face lit up. “That’s perfect. I’ll tell the men on patrol I found a cask. They’ll want to keep it quiet so they don’t have to share.” He handed off another key to me. “This will open the cell. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”
Henri moved to leave. Instinctively, I gripped his arm. He looked at me, but I couldn’t find the words I wanted to say. Anger and resentment and love and grief and loss were too tangled a knot to untie.
“We’ll wait on the coast as long as we can,” Luther offered. “If you can get away, there’s room in the boat for one more.”
Henri gave a slight nod, but his eyes never left mine. I saw in them the truth he didn’t say. I didn’t have to decide Henri’s fate—he already had.
“Don’t save me, D,” he said softly. “Just this once, let someone go.”
My fingers slipped from his arm, and just this once, I did.