Chapter 9
I didn’t remember hitting.
The moment the balcony gave way, my arms wrapped tightly around Eden, I went into my lumis, ready for the breaking. It would be harder to fix, with my patterns still skewed to match Nicosia’s, but I didn’t have time to reorient them. I’d simply have to do my best.
I made sure I hit first.
So much of me shattered.
It was a five-story jump, but I didn’t land on my feet. Pain erupted in all of me, and I winced not only for the ache, but for the knowledge that, whatever Renn was doing, he, too, would feel as though he’d hit stone.
I took care of the most vital parts first—head and neck, internal organs, trunk—terrified at how long it took me. Whether the injuries themselves slowed me, or the lack of Ursa—
Ursa.
—I wasn’t sure. I hissed through my teeth as I worked, pain from a broken bone shooting arrows up my leg.
Some of the icy sculptures I had to re-form into merlons to get it done, including the one holding my heart.
I reinforced the magic blocks there and elsewhere in my body, noting the absence of green but unable to think about it.
Not now. Not while she bought me this time.
Coming to reality, I opened my eyes and immediately dowsed on the princess, groaning in my arms. Groaning was good—she was alive.
I’d softened the landing, yes, but the awkward angle had snapped something in her back; I found the discordant harmony of that and righted it again.
Headache, bruises, a badly broken ankle.
I worked swiftly, not perfectly. Perfection could come later.
“Get up,” I urged, shoving her off me. I pulled the blanket off my head and—
Gods, more blood. My dress was half white, half red, the white fabric showing all of it. Eden’s gown was dark; if she’d bled, the color masked it.
Eden blinked, looking over herself as though she couldn’t believe she was hale. Glanced up the way we’d come and paled.
I fixed a few of her pins. “We don’t have long—”
She grabbed my arm and hauled me toward the palace wall. We were in a garden budding with spring; she dodged behind a statue, pulling me close. Pointed to the wall; I couldn’t tell what she indicated at first, until I saw a dip in the stone. She tugged me in that direction.
I didn’t know what it was, but I imagined, locked in that room, Eden had studied this garden day in and day out. Planned her escape much as I had.
I searched for guards. Held my breath. Bolted to the dip with Eden in tow. As I neared, I realized it was a narrow opening to a set of narrow stairs. We hurried down, the air growing exponentially colder as we did.
An ice cellar. This was an ice cellar. We must have been near the kitchens.
Eden trembled but managed to open her bag. “No time to change,” she rushed, yanking out a coat. “Put this on.”
I did. New blood spotted my dress and would soon crust in my hair, but with this, it wasn’t perceptible.
“We have to move,” I whispered, again combing through my hair. “Carefully, measured. Act regal, not lost—”
Quick, booted footsteps on the stairs. Eden’s skin flashed as pale as marble.
I pulled her behind me as a guard appeared. Of course, it was too much to ask to have no witnesses to two women falling out of a window—
“You there!” He tried to draw his sword, but the stairwell proved too narrow. “What are you—”
I launched at him. Grabbed his hand. He flung me into the wall, but I managed to hold on, dowse into a place of floating goblets. I shattered several. The way the broken shards fell, I couldn’t help but think of Renn.
Stumbling back, I watched the guard topple into Eden, who shoved him away like a spider. He hit the stairs and slid, stopping before the first block of ice.
I swallowed against a dry mouth. Shook inside and out. This wasn’t how my magic was supposed to be used. I wanted it, I needed it, but this wasn’t how healers were meant to work.
I was beginning to understand why craftlock had been banned. Why so many feared us.
We recovered quickly. We had to.
“Where are we going?” Eden whispered. Her blue eyes glinted hard as granite.
I shook my head. I truly didn’t know. As away as we could get. Somewhere we could hide.
We’d landed on the west side of the palace in an inch of crusty snow, and I winced to think of blood smeared against the white.
We had to move swiftly. I crept to the opening of the ice cellar and peeked out, waiting for someone to pass before motioning to Eden to follow.
We hurried across the garden and headed toward the barracks to avoid the guards and the three rows of gates at the front of the palace.
The barracks were no safer, though; tired soldiers moved in and out of them.
I recalled the way Nicosia had brought me before, on our tour, like it wasn’t unusual at all for nonsoldiers to pass through.
Still, when I saw a footpath leading behind the barracks, I took it, hooking Eden’s arm through my own to keep her close.
Pasted on a smile. Just two women on a stroll, nothing more, nothing less.
No alarm had sounded, not yet. How much damage could Ursa do before the afterlife pulled her into it? Before Nicosia overpowered her? How long would he and the warden have to scream over the other prisoners before someone found them?
A soldier sharpening a pile of blades looked up at us as we neared, his brow skewed. Before I could think, Eden said “Good day” to him with a flawless Sestan accent.
He nodded, then continued with his work.
I had a feeling Eden had been as isolated as I’d been. Nicosia didn’t want a queen, he wanted a personal war prize.
I held my breath, nausea roiling in my stomach. I couldn’t tell if it came from nerves, from my misshapen lumis, or perhaps from Renn. Maybe all three.
The cool evening air made me shiver; I clenched my teeth together to mask it.
We’d nearly passed the last of the barracks when a woman called out to us. “Whoa there!”
I ignored her, tugging Eden along. We hadn’t heard anything. We weren’t suspicious—
She jogged to catch up to us. Stepped in front of us to block the path. “Where are . . . ?” She paused, looking at Eden. “Mistress, does His Majesty know you’re out here?”
Not isolated enough, it seemed. I noted the soldier did not refer to Eden as Your Majesty.
But Eden smiled. “I’m touring the grounds with my maid.” Her natural Canseren accent swept into place.
The soldier hesitated. I noted her collar—one silver mark and a half circle. Healer.
She frowned. “It’s getting late—”
“Would you like to accompany us?” Eden asked.
I tried not to wince.
The woman hesitated. I looked her over—with her gloves, I’d have to go for her face or the strip of neck above her collar to hurt her. But she’d heal quickly, report us—
Try, Ursa’s voice said to me. Or, rather, the memory of her voice.
My air left me in a wave of grief like I’d been socked in the stomach. It took a monumental effort to suck it back in again.
The healer frowned. “I have orders, Mistress. But I can retrieve someone else—”
“That won’t be necessary.” The slightest quiver etched Eden’s voice.
She tried to step around the soldier, but the healer sidestepped to block her.
Eden clucked her tongue, but I could feel her mask crumbling.
“Really, do you have nothing else to do but accost me? I shall bring it up to His Majesty. What’s your name? ”
Something about that was wrong, judging by the way the healer’s brow lowered. “I don’t think—”
“We’re just crafters,” I pleaded. “We’ve been taken from our families and enslaved here. Please.” I did not need to fake the tears that came to my eyes. “Please, we just want to go home.”
Eden squeezed my arm enough to hurt.
The soldier stiffened, eyes shooting between the two of us. We stood there, at an impasse, for nearly a full minute, until she mumbled something under her breath, followed by “Come with me, quickly.”
I dared not feed the hope sparking in my chest as the soldier led us past the barracks, farther north.
I wanted to go south, but so long as it was not closer to the palace, I would not complain.
She crossed over paths and walkways, through copses of trees and a garden, until we got to a man-made stream.
“This will flow southwest,” she whispered, pointing, “and merge with the canals, the sewers. He will send dogs. Stay in the water, no matter how cold it gets, for at least a mile. Do you understand?”
Eden’s hands rushed to her mouth to stifle a sob.
“Yes, yes, thank you.” I grasped her gloved hands. “I’ll tell no one you helped us.” And pray that no mindreader dug into her thoughts.
The shrill sound of a whistle cut through the air. I didn’t know if it was a summons to the soldiers, or part of an alert that the Canseren prisoners were missing. I didn’t stay to find out.
Grabbing Eden’s hand, I dropped into the stream, the cold water hitting just below my knees. I could bear the cold and heal the hypothermia for both of us. We could make it.
The soldier didn’t offer us a farewell or well-wishes. She jogged back the way we’d come, glancing once over her shoulder. I wasn’t sure if the stricken look on her face was regret for helping us, or regret that she didn’t accompany us.
I ran through the water, not letting go of Eden’s hand until long after dark.
We rested only a quarter hour, long enough for me to heal us.
Again, my efforts felt sluggish, like our lumie were filled with honey, even after reorienting my merlons.
Not the trauma of injury, then; simply that, without my sister, the healing didn’t flow as readily.
There was less than before. I was less than before, and I kept my back to Eden under the guise of healing myself longer than necessary, trying to come to terms with it. Trying not to sob as I shivered.
Had the magic been like this, before Ursa’s death? I couldn’t recall.
The night felt so endless. So empty. So dark.