“I don’t care. I don’t care. I DON’T CARE!” My fists were beating against the metal, jagged ridges drawing blood. I lowered my voice to a snarl. “You are going to tell them EVERYTHING.” My eyes flashed steel. “Or I will.”
“No, you won’t.” My brother’s gaze matched my own. Impenetrable walls of stone.
“Yes, I—”
“Would you give up your life in the palace?” His words hit my chest like a thick slab of ice. “Would you give up your prince? Would you willingly sacrifice Ian? And Ray? And all those lives in the north?” His laugh was cold. “Just to save me you would be condemning yourself. The Crown would never trust you again if they found out you knew about the rebels—”
I was choking on air.
“They might spare your life, because of him… But you will be right here alongside me. To live out your life in the dungeons, a traitor.”
He was right. My fingers slipped from the bars, and I slumped to the floor. Waves of nausea threatened to attack my lungs.
“Maybe King Blayne would spare me, but I would rather die a traitor than give up the others’ lives just to live rotting in these cells.” His next sentence cut into me worse than any blade ever could. “And you and I, we are one in the same.”
“Derrick…” I was breaking. “Please, w-what about Alex?” My voice grew higher. “Mom? D-dad?” What about me?
“I’m so sorry.” A flush of shame covered his face, and for the first time I saw emotion in his eyes. Regret. “I love you, Ry.”
“But they’ll never know!” Shards of glass were ripping me apart. Our family. “Three days, Derrick, they won’t even know until I tell them!”
“Tell them I’m sorry.” He tossed the leather cord and the copper ring clinked against the floor.
“Derrick, no!” I beat at the bars and blood sprayed across the room. “DERRICK, PLEASE!” There has to be a way!
“GUARDS!” My brother raised his voice and it cracked. “Please take my sister away.”
“DERRICK, NO!” I reached into the cell and grabbed his arm. I saw him flinch. “PLEASE, DON’T DO THIS!”
A rough pair of hands dragged me back, hauling me away from his cell.
“No!” I clawed at my captor, fingernails tearing apart skin, and the hot liquid streaming down like tears.
“Ryiah!” Another pair of hands caught me and pulled me away from the first. Garnet flashed before my vision and tears burst out like a stream, clouding the room so that I could no longer see.
“I will bring you back tomorrow,” Darren whispered.
“He’s not going to tell!” My voice was hoarse from the screams. “He’s not going to tell!” And I couldn’t either. I was a liar. And a coward.
And I—
“We need to get her out of here.” The prince’s panic was a distant call as my body crumbled in his arms. Moments later my legs and waist were lifted and swung, my head falling against something soft. Pine and cloves muffled the stench of blood and rot, but they only made it worse.
Home.
I was struggling to breathe. Cool glass was pressed against my lips and someone was begging me to drink. I opened my mouth to protest and a bitter liquid hit my tongue. Derrick. A steady stream that forced me to swallow, again and again as pungent sweetness and herbs assaulted my lungs.
Derrick.
The deafening pounding of my pulse slowly gave way to a lull. The frantic struggle fell from my limbs.
Derrick.
A sense of calamity, and then… I never remembered the rest.
Chapter Eighteen
The second day my brother refused, Mira set to work on his inquisition. It was supposed to be the Black Mage who interrogated prisoners of high treason, but Darren had petitioned Blayne for a reprieve.
A part of me longed to have him do it. Mira was bloodless and cold; it was hard for me to separate her from the enemy. My brother may have committed the crime, but I was in no state to consider reason. I had to be dragged away from the dungeon doors—and even then his screams still echoed in my head. They never went away.
I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I refused to drink. Darren was on his knees pleading with me just to breathe, and all I could do was stare at the wall. I needed a way to save my brother, and even if I were to reach out to the rebels, they were too far away. I had no way of knowing if he had a contact in the city, and Derrick refused to give me the answer for fear I would try and trade the life of another for his.
He wouldn’t have been wrong.
I had fallen to madness by the morning of the third day. Mira’s methods had left my brother in a state so terrible that Darren had to drag me from the dungeon cells, kicking and screaming and threatening to kill the woman who had done it.
They tried to put me in my chamber with Paige to stand guard, but I broke down the castle door with my magic. When she tried to stop me, I cast a sword and held it to her throat, shaking as I begged her to take me to the king.
She could have stopped me, but something in her expression cracked and she sheathed her blade and let me by.