But the strangled noise at my side reminds me she hasn’t been here before. I hold her closer, but she hardly notices. I know the feeling. I lived it this summer, in the shadows of the airbase, but I had silence to process. She has only this fiery night, and I whisper into her hair, “You did what you had to.”
Because I know she needs to hear it the way I did.
For some reason, it sounds hollow saying it to another person.
Havis watches us silently. Then he shakes his head again and waves us to follow. “You don’t ever speak of what’s happened here. We’ll say it was suicide.”
“He was shot in the neck,” I point out.
Havis is in front of me with two long strides. “I said you don’t ever speak of what’s happened here, Lieutenant. To anyone. And I mean that. I don’t think my king would appreciate hearing the Princess of Etania murdered one of our own.”
Ali holds my arm, still shaking—or maybe it’s me.
“You wouldn’t do that to her,” I say, but I’m beginning to doubt all these things I thought were certainties. This night has changed everything.
“Wouldn’t I?” Havis smiles coldly, then glances at Ali. “And you, Princess?”
She looks up at him, pale and furious. “You are a snake.”
“Good,” Havis says. “Now let’s get out of here. Things are not going well for the Queen. I assume you have an aeroplane somewhere, Lieutenant?”
This man makes no sense to me. The entire place is under siege and he wants the three of us to run for the hills together? If Father finds out … Wait, unless Father arranged this? I don’t know what to think anymore. I’m not even sure how that would work, but Ali decides for me.
“We’re going to the General,” she says, chin rising. “I’m not leaving my mother behind.”
“It’s too late for her, Aurelia. The General is preparing to make his broadcast to the kingdom, assuming emergency powers until this is solved. Come now and at least you’ll have your lieutenant to keep you safe. Let the dust settle.”
“No!” Her voice snaps hotly. “I’m saving my mother. Tell her that, Havis. Tell her I’m safe and I’m coming.”
“You’ll never make it to the General!”
“She will,” I say.
“Lieutenant,” Havis begins. “You can’t—”
Ali grabs the photographs and we sprint for the hall, always running, leaving Havis behind with Lark’s mangled corpse. Father’s in the throne room. We have to get there—and fast. The halls are silent tombs, an orange colour still faint beyond the windows. No gunfire. I hope to God Arrin has settled the rioters. For once, I want him to be right so this war doesn’t have to spread.
We turn a corner and run right into an entire flood of Etanian uniforms.
Two dozen of them.
I freeze, as does Ali, and her hand tightens on mine, ready to run. Then the Prince pushes through them.
“Reni!” she cries, abandoning my side and throwing her arms around her brother’s neck.
The armed royal guards stare me down like a viper that might slither off with the slightest movement. I’m not sure if I should raise my hands.
Did we just lose somehow?
Then I spot Lord Jerig staring at me, white-faced, and I see his weak betrayal. The Prince has won him over. Our bought traitor has been bought right back.
“Stars, Reni, what’s happening to us?” Ali asks.
“It’s a mess,” he replies. “A rotten mess. They’ve revolted in three cities, and a thousand men came marching from Hathene alone. Armed to the teeth. I don’t know how they could have rallied such a force.”
He doesn’t know, but it suddenly makes perfect sense to me. Father’s vintage weapons bound for the Queen’s Mounted Regiment. A traditional gift, as Kalt said. Generous. Expected. But I saw them being loaded in Norvenne. There were enough crates there for a sufficient amount to go “missing,” numbers erased, rewritten, the rest disappearing to be repainted, refurbished, and stripped of Safire design. Ready for these men to march on the palace, not with fancy machine guns, but with exactly what everyone would expect from a home-grown militia.
It’s clever.
Arrin clever.
“But I have the Air Force,” the Prince continues. “Colonel Lyle has mediated with 3rd Squadron outside the city. We’re going to order the Safire planes down and get our sky back.”
“Can anyone help us?” Ali asks.
“Lyle tried to radio Classit straightaway. They’re closest to assist, but they refused the requests. Said we should let the experienced General deal with this.” He sounds thoroughly hateful.
So Father’s visit to that neighbouring kingdom paid off. I wonder what he gave them for the loyalty. Or maybe they really believe the myths about him? No bribery required. Whatever the case, it’s left Etania and its outdated planes alone in a sky against Safire. One word from Arrin and this will be over.
“The truth is getting out, Ali,” the Prince continues. “Uncle and Lyle have also gone to the army. They’re loyal, I know it. He’ll have them deal with the ones in the city. And I’m bringing my guard to the General. We’ll stop him before he addresses our kingdom.”
“You won’t convince my General with that,” I say. “They’ll hold you to trial, just like your mother.”
The Prince scowls. “Do not dissuade me from this. I see through your lies.”
“I’m not lying, Your Highness. You’re the son of a woman now accused of murder.”
The Prince looks at me fiercely. “I am a king, Lieutenant, and I will bring an entire kingdom. I will bring the rest of the Heights!”
A king.
If I’m stunned, Ali is even more so. “What are you doing?” she whispers fearfully.
His face is elegant iron, his hands wrapped gently around hers. “I’m doing what I must, Ali. It’s time, at last, for me to rule.”
God, this little faction of Etanian men is declaring him their new leader. Just like that. In the middle of a coup against his own mother. I don’t know how royal politics work, but this seems more like something we Safire would do, not a proper Northern prince. Maybe I really have underestimated him. But still, he’s wildly outnumbered. If Father’s about to make his own address, then he’ll be quick to muddy the waters with half truths and bold lies, putting the Prince and Sinora in the worst light, and all he needs is a wireless radio and some airtime. He’d have everyone in the Heights convinced the whole family is in on the murder cover-up.
Trying to stay a step ahead, I leap through the possibilities as fast as I can. If Arrin is still suppressing the rioters, then we have a chance. Father cares about appearances. He’ll listen to what Ali says, as dangerous as that is. But Arrin? Never. He’ll take one look at her photographs—and his guilt—and order the Safire planes to attack. I’m certain of it. He’d rather take everything out at once than play politics. He’ll come up with his reasons later.
And if the Prince already has his factions on the move, then we’re running out of time.
Once again, though, Ali beats me to it. “You can’t take the risk, Reni. If you’re our leader now, then the people need to see you.” She steps away. “I’m going to reason with the General. I can get him to speak on our behalf.”
Now it’s the Prince’s turn to look stunned. “You’re going to what?”
“I have a way and you have to let me go.”
He looks about to protest, but she throws her arms around his neck again, whispering something in his ear.
He pales, visibly, eyes flickering to me.
“No, Ali, you can’t be—”
But she’s already away from him, grabbing my hand and dragging me down the hall in the other direction. I don’t need to be convinced. We sprint side by side, the final stretch. The nearer we get to the throne room, the more Safire uniforms appear. They’re all gaping at me but I plough right through them. No time. Two of Father’s officers try to step in front of me before the large doors. They look angry.
“Lieutenant, you need to stop—”
“Get the hell off,” I say in Savien.
This might mean a firing squad later, but I’m still hoping I can redeem myself.
I drag Ali past them, flinging open the doors and throwing us through them in front of the startled expressions of Father’s men. But there’s no sign of him.
Only Arrin.