Chapter 62 #2
I was right. This might be the first time I have ever outright hated being correct. “You said you didn’t remember anything from before the attack. That all you knew was your name. Another lie.”
“A half-truth,” he corrects, somewhat defensively. “When I first woke up following the attack, I didn’t remember anything. I swear it. I didn’t know who I was or what had happened. There was just a big, vacant spot… But the memories came back in pieces over time.”
Do I believe him? Can I after everything?
“As the memories returned to me, they seemed impossible. I didn’t believe them at first. I had all these recollections of people and places that were so different from anything that surrounded me—from this place that people were telling me was my home.
I thought it was all a dream, I really did. I was just a child then.”
“What made you believe it wasn’t?” I ask, almost angry at myself for indulging him. Almost. But I want the truth, and I like him enough to see if it changes my feelings about all this.
“Your mother. She found me as she was hunting down information from the day of the attack.” It makes sense.
Lucan was the only other survivor. Mum would have questioned him for her research—or at least try to see if he saw anything when I unleashed the Etherlight.
“And that was the start of me reclaiming my memories. After she was cast out of the Earthwardens and her research halted, it took a couple of years before I saw her again.”
My jaw goes slack. “That was how she always seemed to know what the vicar was doing with me.” Even if I never told her. She was always way too good at reading between the lines. She wasn’t reading at all. She knew.
He nods. “I… I wanted to tell you everything for years. But she made me swear not to.”
“You acted like you didn’t even know who she was when I asked you to cover for me so I could celebrate her birthday,” I breathe, staring off at nothing.
“I knew how remarkable a woman she was. And how much she loved you and would’ve loved to see you.
” Lucan takes a half step closer, and the space between us instantly feels intimate enough that my cheeks are flushing.
The other two are so close. “But she also wanted nothing more than to protect you, and it was my honor to help then—even if it meant turning you in so we all continued playing our roles—just as it is my honor now.”
An ashborn boy in the city. His sister infiltrating the knights to find him, check in on him. Mum figuring it out, and, of course, when she did, she’d naturally want to pick his memories for information on the world beyond.
There’s just one thing that still sticks out to me. “If you were born beyond the wall, how did you get in?” I know how his sister did. But there was no mention of Lucan.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ember cuts in, “but it’s been a while, and Pia still isn’t back.”
Lucan tenses, as though the time that passed physically struck him. He blinks, staring at the door, as though Pia just left through it. “She told us to wait.”
“For how long?” Myla glances at her sister, and they share a look of quiet dread.
Lucan opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “We haven’t… It hasn’t been that long.”
“It’s been long enough.” Myla shoves her hands in her pockets and mumbles, “Probably longer than you think, lover boy.”
My cheeks are hot, and I can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or annoyance.
Ember, in contrast with her sister, stands tall, confident and cool.
“Are we supposed to wait here until we’re caught?
We know the path Pia was talking about—the way out to the other side of the wall.
It’s the same path she used to get us and Dazni in.
We’re dressed like their knights. We can easily sneak out. ”
“You want us to leave Pia and Dazni?” Even Myla is shocked.
“Dazni was meeting us at the tunnel out, and Pia is smart. She’ll figure it out.” Ember’s confidence is unwavering. “Pia might have gone off to find Dazni, anyway. We don’t know, but the longer we wait, the more the knights will have a chance to get down into these lower levels.”
Lucan shakes his head. “We need to wait for the all-clear. We don’t have the gilding or Pia’s sigil to fake a golden eye.” So that’s how she’s doing it. “Anyone would know we’re not proper knights at a glance.”
“It won’t matter as long as we move quickly and keep our hoods up,” Ember counters quickly.
Lucan gestures to me with a flick of his wrist. “She’s not dressed as a knight and is the most recognizable person in all of Vinguard, not to mention the fact that she’s supposed to be locked up as a dragon sympathizer… That’s a much bigger problem than the gilding.”
I don’t love being called a “bigger problem,” but he’s absolutely right, so I keep my mouth shut.
“We can scout ahead when needed or lie and say we’re escorting her to a new cell,” Ember says, impatience hastening her words. “It’s better than waiting for who knows how long. They’re going to find out she’s missing soon, and that will put them on high alert.”
Something is off… It’s like a chill in the air—a subtle shift that has the hairs on my arms rising. My skin prickles to gooseflesh. I’ve no reason for it, but it’s as though an evil specter just passed through the room.
But they’re right. We can’t stay. And I’ve no solid reason to object.
Bracing myself, I gather my courage and say, “Let’s go.”
Lucan’s head turns sharply, searching me. Looking to me as though I am the sole decider of what we do next. “Are you sure?”
I don’t flinch. “I want to—need to get out of here. Ember is right. We should move before more Mercy Knights spread through the tower or raise the alarm.”
Lucan hesitates a second longer and then nods once.
He pulls his hood forward, and the other two do the same.
The motion has a sense of finality to it, and my heart slams against my ribs.
We emerge into the hall, and when the door clicks softly back into place behind us, it somehow feels louder than the ominous toll of dragon bells.
Ember and Myla take the lead, heads down, hoods pulled low. Lucan stays at my side, close enough that I can feel his perpetual warmth. Close enough that I’m fighting grabbing his hand for comfort.
We emerge from the side hall into the vertical heart of Mercy Spire.
It’s just like Pia said, sloping up and down in a gentle curve—like a corkscrew—with the same plain, plastered walls punctuated with dragon sconces as everywhere else in Mercy Spire.
We move deliberately down, every footstep seeming louder than the last. Somehow, the silence is even more deafening.
There aren’t any signs of life until heavy footsteps rise from below.
Myla and Ember glance back. There isn’t any time to discuss before a Mercy Knight crests the curve of the pathway.
As his chin lifts, Lucan grabs my arm with a firm grip.
The twins nod and tug their hoods forward even more, casting their faces in deeper shadow.
Lucan does the same as the Mercy Knight raises his eyes.
The shift in him is instant. His jaw drops.
There’s recognition, then suspicion, but beneath it all is something uglier—something I’ve never seen from a citizen of Vinguard: hate.
“Look who we’ve captured,” Lucan says triumphantly, squaring his shoulders. “No doubt trying to escape her punishment. Dragon sympathizer and a coward.” He’s a little too good at putting hatred in his voice. It almost stings.
“Excellent. We need to put her somewhere secure before she can manage to slip through our fingers again.” The knight’s expression shifts as his scowl breaks into a wide grin.
“I couldn’t agree more.” The chill in Ember’s words couldn’t feel more real.
“Follow me. There’s a room with a good lock just around the bend we can put her in, for now, until we get shackles.” He turns and begins starting down the way he came—the direction we were headed.
A series of glances are exchanged as we move. Myla and Ember catch each other’s eyes. Then Myla looks back to Lucan, who nods; meanwhile, Ember’s head shifts slightly. We’re all going along with this for now, but I can sense what’s unspoken: they’re waiting for the right place to strike.
We’ve just rounded the bend when there’s a flash of silver. The knight lunges for Ember, barely missing her chin. Myla lunges into his side with a grunt, shoving him away. My heart pounds in my throat as I watch the dagger sweep over her head.
The knight recovers, positioning himself ahead of us, down the slope. As though he knows where we’re heading. “Don’t make another move.”
“It’s four against one.” Myla steps forward, already sinking into a crouch, hands balled into fists. “You think you’ll get us all before we take you?”
“And we have Valor’s power,” Lucan says confidently.
Panic hits me, and I swallow thickly, trying to look confident. Trying to back him up. But I never promised this. I wanted to escape—to get out from under the Creed. Not attack random Mercy Knights.
He could’ve been Saipha, in another world.
The thought has my throat tightening.
“Put the dagger down and you won’t die,” Ember says firmly.
The knight just smirks. Footsteps echo from deeper ahead. A voice twice as vile as the acid of a green dragon oozes through the passageway.
“I don’t think he will.” Vicar Darius steps into view from around the curve of the tower. Robed in blood red, his eyes alight with triumph.
He doesn’t come alone. Two Mercy Knights flank him, dragging Dazni and Pia. The ashborn are bloodied, bruised, and barely able to support themselves. Both have blades pressed to their throats. Four more knights are close behind.
“If you value their lives, you will do as I say.”