Chapter 2 #2
And then it was just me and the two children unfortunate enough to be caught by the wrong side at the wrong time, in a Court that was no longer theirs.
I knelt down in front of them, the cold of the dungeon permeating my trousers.
The boy with the longer hair kept his eyes downcast, but the other met my gaze, defiance flashing across his face.
Regret sank into my stomach at seeing it there.
The general had seen them, tortured them. There was no helping them escape now, and not when it would endanger others by leaving them alive. The only thing I could wish for them was a quick end.
Magic rose at my fingers, the dirt under the stone listening to my call. A small green vine rose from the soil, uncurling a thorn at the edge, sharp and deadly. It started as a sapling, but then grew to a thick rope, winding around the bars of the cell we stood in.
“I’m sorry,” I said to the defiant boy. “But you don’t want to be alive for what he’ll do to you.”
The thorn pierced his heart before he could respond, slicing neatly through the center of his chest. He collapsed against me when the vine withdrew, and I bowed my head onto his shoulder.
I didn’t weep, because all my tears had turned to fire.
Then I turned to my guards.
“Find his family, let them bury him. Relocate them if you must. I want them out of the city before the general finds out he’s dead.” My guards nodded to me, then left to do my bidding, lifting the dead boy up in their arms and filing out of the dungeon.
Then I turned to the other boy.
The vine hung in the air, waiting for my command.
The boy shivered, sobbing as the guards carried his dead friend from the room, his hair falling into his face.
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, glad he hadn’t met my eyes.
It was easier when they didn’t look at me.
But before I could summon my magic, the boy’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. “Your highness,” he croaked, and I jerked back.
“What . . .” My mouth fell open at the honorific. It had been a long time since anyone had called me that.
“What are you talking about?” I demanded. No one should know anything about my true identity. Not when I’d taken great pains to hide it.
“I have a message for you,” he continued, ignoring my question. “I was trying to bring it to you when we got captured. My cousin, he wasn’t as discreet as he should have been, so they caught us.”
“Who gave you this message?”
“A churail.”
I narrowed my eyes at his mention of a witch. There weren’t many witches left in the Court of River, as they had all managed to flee when the Court of Salt took over.
“She said the curse on the Mountain would be broken when Queen Azari’s crown is found. And then she gave me this.” He fumbled in the waistband of his trousers, revealing a false pocket there, and pulled out a small gold ring.
I narrowed my eyes. This felt like a trap, but if the Viceroy knew anything about my true history, I’d already be facing his wrath.
No, this wasn’t a trap from him.
But that didn’t mean this witch was innocent. They had done their share in the war between Salt and River that made me suspicious of anything they would give me.
And why hadn’t she found me herself?
But the mention of Queen Azari’s crown nearly made my heart stop. If this witch could lead me to the crown, it was worth the risk.
“Where is this churail?”
And who was she?
“She came upon my cousin and me in the bazaar in Charvellan city. She said I should tell you she had a dream that you are the Prince that would return, that you would bring us back. That you would free the Court of River from the Salt Court and would release the royal family from Tirich Mir.”
It felt as though the ground had dropped from beneath me.
It was impossible that one witch would know so much about me when I thought no one knew who I truly was, except for a select few in the Red Jasmine.
The boy glanced up at me, his eyes glazed with something besides terror, and I realized this was why he hadn’t looked at me earlier. Not because he didn’t want me to see his fear, but rather his awe.
I wanted to stand, to leave the dungeon, to run from his eyes and the hope I saw there. I wanted to tell him all the things I was forced to do to the peris in our Court, and all the things I had yet to do.
But I couldn’t turn away.
“Will you bring us back?”
At his soft question, I closed my eyes.
“I’m trying to,” I muttered.
But I still didn’t know what to do with the information he gave me, and unease churned in my gut. “How does this churail know me?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she escaped from the Mountain Palace?” the boy said hopefully. But I shook my head.
“Impossible. No one has broken the curse on Tirich Mir since it was triggered. Queen Azari’s magic is impossible to overcome.”
It sounded as if I were echoing General Faisal’s sentiments from earlier. I curled my lip, not wanting to sound like him in the slightest, even with my own doubts echoing through my head.
No one had broken the ancient Queen’s magic before, despite our attempts. My family had entered Tirich Mir to retrieve the Queen’s ancient weapon and had never come out. But I wasn’t about to let General Faisal or the Salt Court tell me what I was about to do.
Nor would I let my family rot in a palace prison for the rest of eternity, even if I had to take their place.
The boy looked deflated at my words, and something inside me rose up—that lingering piece of resistance that wanted to be worthy of the hope I’d seen in his eyes.
“But I’m going to be the one to bring it down,” I said softly, surprised at my own words. It was strange saying this all out loud; it felt like being closer to something I’d never been able to touch before. Like with my words I had made it more possible.
“I knew the churail was speaking the truth,” the boy said reverently.
“You can’t live,” I said, watching his eyes shine, the dread sinking in my stomach as my conjured vine crept up his chest.
“If the Viceroy has you,” I continued, holding his gaze despite how much I wanted to tear myself away. “He’ll empty your memories and turn your mind against you. And he’ll torture your entire family for the information. He’ll make you turn on your neighbors, your friends.”
I’d seen it happen, over and over again. And I couldn’t stop it.
At least not yet.
My voice shook. “And I can’t get you out. Your family, yes. But not you.”
Not if I wanted to stay in the palace under this mask.
He nodded, his face solemn. “I’ll live in the River, like the ancient peris,” he whispered, before my thorn pierced his heart.
I clutched the ring he gave me, the gold cutting into my palm as his body slumped to the ground and rage poured through me.
We couldn’t fight salt with water, but maybe we could drown it.