64. Lilias
Lilias
DO NOT RUN
Ibarely make it out of the ballroom before the ground shakes again.
Petrys grabs my arm, keeping me from pitching forward as we run into the garden.
I turn to him, but he’s looking backward, over his shoulder.
Back at the ballroom we just left, at the chandeliers as they tremble against the painted ceiling.
“Gods above—” he whispers.
And the entire world roars like a caged beast.
I spin around, my heart flailing against the back of my throat. Petrys stands next to me, frozen in place. And in front of him, his black cloak spread out over his shoulders, his empty hands raised toward the doorway like an offering, like a surrender, is Zarek.
Someone screams inside the ballroom. It’s a man, and even though I can’t see him, even though I’ve never heard him raise his voice, I’m certain that Varitan is screaming. There’s another roar, a low rumble.
And then, slowly, almost beautifully, the wall of the palace of Vsenrog begins to fall.
The last of the windows shatters with a sound like ice breaking beneath a leather boot.
The groan and crash of crumbling masonry swells to fill the entire world.
Dust rises, blotting out the warm flood of light from the falling chandeliers.
There’s more screaming, but it feels dull and distant.
It’s on the other side of the wall, some part of me recognizes.
No. It’s on the other side of the massive pile of broken stone and shattered glass that is now all that remains of the wall.
The man standing next to Zarek spins to face him. And then there’s another voice, one that’s louder and far closer. And somehow strangely familiar.
“What in the hells,” he screams, “did you just do?”
Dust covers his face and cloak, and his eyes are wide with rage and fear. Still, I know who he is. It can’t possibly be him, but still—
“Gerard?” I gasp.
My brother’s guard nods at me.
“Hi,” he says, before grabbing Zarek’s shoulders and shaking him. “What the fuck was that?” Gerard screams in Zarek’s face.
Petrys lets go of my arm. And then he steps forward and punches Gerard in the face. Gerard stumbles backward.
“Stop it!” I cry.
Gerard spits, then scowls at Petrys. A thin trickle of blood runs down his chin from his split lip. His fingers curl into a fist. He rocks forward, but Zarek steps between the two men.
“We need to go,” Zarek says, his voice low and dangerous. “Now.”
Zarek looks pale. His hair flutters around his neck. Because he’s shaking, I realize. He’s shaking quite a bit.
Petrys and Gerard glare at each other.
“Oh, come on!” I snap.
I grab Gerard’s arm and drag him away from Petrys. When Zarek starts to run through the garden, we all follow him.
Alia is waiting for us on the far side of the stables. She’s standing in a dark doorway with a cloak over her head, staring at the wreck of the palace ballroom.
“Hell of a party, huh?” she asks as the four of us stumble toward her, gasping for breath.
“Horses,” Zarek says. “Now.”
Alia nods. “They’re ready. They’re not the fastest, but they’ll blend in anywhere.”
She looks at us, then frowns at Petrys.
“I was expecting three of you,” she whispers.
“This asshole isn’t one of—” Petrys begins, but Gerard cuts him off.
“I’ve got a horse,” Gerard says, stepping forward to meet Alia. “Mare named Sunshine. She’s boarded at the Two Dogs.”
He pulls something from his pocket that looks like a room key from a cheap inn. Alia frowns at it.
“Are you going with them?” she asks Gerard.
“No,” Petrys says.
“Yes,” Gerard says, at the same time.
Alia crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow. “If you’re going with them, you don’t have time to go to the Two Dogs.”
Gerard grins and hands her the key. “Then it looks like you have a mare named Sunshine waiting for you at the Two Dogs. I’ll take whatever you can give me in exchange.”
Alia mutters a string of curses under her breath, then turns and vanishes into the darkness.
“Lilias,” she calls. “Get in here.”
I follow her into the comforting darkness of the stables. Three horses wait just inside the doorway, saddled and ready, and my eyes sting with a sudden, fierce swell of gratitude.
“Alia,” I whisper. “Thank you.”
She turns back to me and shakes her head. “Don’t thank me until you’re out of here,” she mutters. “And, hells, take off that damn dress. You shine like a beacon. There’s some clothes in the tack room. Then you can help me saddle Ebony.”
I do as she says, although she has to help me unlace the dress’s complicated bodice, and it takes so long to peel it off that I want to scream.
Finally, I step out of the dress and pull on the dark shirt and loose, soft pants Alia hands me.
If Alia notices the dagger strapped to my thigh, she doesn’t say anything.
“Better take that with you,” she tells me, staring at the pile of sparkling fabric on the floor of the tack room. “If someone finds that dress here, I have no fucking idea how I’ll explain it.”
I bundle up the dress as best I can, then wrap it in an old blanket and tie it behind Ebony’s saddle.
We lead the horses out of the stable and into the cool night air.
Gerard and Petrys are still staring at each other like they’re wondering who’s going to throw the second punch.
Zarek has one hand on the wall, like he’s bracing himself.
And he’s still shaking.
I touch his arm as I bring him his horse. “You okay?” I whisper.
“Of course,” he replies, with the least convincing smile I’ve ever seen.
I frown, but he turns away from me and pulls himself into the saddle.
“Go out through the mountains,” Alia says, once we’re all mounted. “Stay the hells away from the main roads. And do not, under any circumstances, run. Anyone running a horse at this hour’s going to draw the guards like flies on shit.”
“I know,” Petrys says.
I nod and try to swallow, but my throat has gone dry.
“Thank you, Alia,” Zarek says, his voice oddly low and formal. “I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Alia replies, with a grin. “I’ll add it to your tab. Now get the fuck out of here, you idiot.”
Zarek nods and turns his horse. And then, riding so slowly it almost hurts, we turn toward the Barrier Mountains. Petrys clears his throat as Zarek leads his horse away from the stables and into a tight alleyway that threads toward the city walls.
“It might look better if we talk,” Petrys whispers. “Normally, I mean. Like we’re travelers.”
“Travelers riding in the middle of the night,” Gerard says. “Away from the wreck of the palace. That’s not suspicious at all.”
“Fuck you,” Petrys scowls.
“Not a chance,” Gerard replies. “You’re not my type, sweetheart.”
“Stop it,” Zarek says. He sounds exhausted.
I nudge my horse, Ebony, until we’re riding next to Gerard.
“What are you doing here?” I finally manage to ask.
Gerard smiles. His teeth flash in the pale moonlight filtering through the low haze of dust that’s slowly settling over the city of Vsenrog.
“Rescuing you,” he replies. “You’re welcome, by the way.”
Petrys huffs.
“Holy hells,” Zarek mutters under his breath. “This is going to be a long trip.”
“If we make it out of the city at all,” Petrys adds.