Olivia stood on the street, surrounded by about twenty Ruined. They were all on horses, ready for a journey.
Em looked around at the Ruined. They were the ones who had clearly aligned themselves with Olivia—Jacobo, Ester, Carmen, Priscila, and several others who were very powerful. It wasn’t surprising that they’d chosen Olivia. Em had barely spoken to most of them since she became queen. They were never going to follow a useless Ruined.
“Going somewhere?” Em asked.
“Yes.” Olivia mounted her horse.
“Are you coming back?”
“Of course,” she said shortly.
Olivia didn’t look well, despite the days of rest and quiet in Westhaven. Her olive skin was splotchy, her dark hair limp and thin. Em wasn’t sure if Olivia wasn’t sleeping, or if the constant use of her magic was finally catching up to her.
“She’s going to attack the town to the south,” a voice said from behind Em. She turned to see Aren walking to them. He stopped next to Em and looked at Olivia. “Fayburn. Right?”
She just stared at him.
“I heard Jacobo and Ester talking about it last night.”
Olivia sighed loudly, and cast a disapproving cast at Jacobo and Ester.
“What?” Ester didn’t look the least bit ashamed. She was several years older than Em, with a long, pinched face that frequently looked annoyed. Or perhaps that was just how she always looked when Em was around. She’d never made a secret of her disdain for useless Ruined. “Is the plan a secret? Do you need Em’s permission?” The words were a challenge, which Olivia clearly recognized. She squared her shoulders.
“Of course not.”
“What’s the plan? Attack random humans for fun?” Aren asked.
“Keep underestimating me, Aren. I’m sure that will work out so well for you in the end,” Olivia said. Aren stiffened. He and Em both knew better than to underestimate Olivia.
“I’m going to take over every big town between here and Gallego City,” Olivia said. “Starting with Fayburn.”
“That’s”—Em pictured a map of Lera in her head—“at least five towns, maybe ten, depending on what you consider big.”
“Perfect. I plan to invade each one and kill most of the humans. Maybe you can draw me a map, Em. You know Lera so well.” She said the last sentence like a dare. Sometimes Em was sure Olivia knew that Em was no longer on her side. Other times, she was certain Olivia would never suspect that Em—or any Ruined—would betray her. Not on such a large scale, anyway.
“What’s the purpose of that?” Em asked. “Just to kill everyone?”
“No. The survivors will run to Royal City. Then we’ll take over towns to the north, until we have them all trapped in Royal City. The south is half deserted now anyway, so we’ll worry about that later. Then all of northern Lera will belong to the Ruined, and we can decide what to do about Royal City later. Perhaps we’ll let them live there for a while. They could be useful.” She gestured at Aren. “Aren’s found a good use for humans, after all.”
Em’s stomach twisted into knots. Olivia could conceivably murder thousands if she was free to carry out that plan.
“We don’t have enough people,” Em said. “Once we leave here, the humans will likely just come right back.”
“I think we can spare a few Ruined who will travel between our conquered cities. People will learn what happens if they go back to a Ruined city.” Olivia’s lips twisted into something like a smile. “Besides, Casimir doesn’t have much of an army these days, does he? Isn’t his cousin still trying to take the throne from him? And they surely haven’t heard the last from Olso yet. Those warriors never retreat for long.”
Em swallowed. Olivia was right, unfortunately. Cas couldn’t fight three enemies at once. It was the perfect time for the Ruined to swoop in. It was the sort of scenario their mother had dreamed of.
“It’s a good plan, isn’t it?” Olivia asked smugly.
“It’s a risky plan.”
“All the best ones are. You taught me that.”
The knots in her stomach tightened. Em had taught her that. Olivia was free because of Em’s risky plan, because she killed a princess in cold blood and planned to kill many more. King Salomir was the one who kidnapped and enraged Olivia, but Em certainly hadn’t set a good example since.
Em reached for her throat, where the necklace with the O charm—for Olivia—used to hang around her neck. She’d put it in a drawer a few days ago, and she kept forgetting and reaching for it.
Olivia’s eyes followed the movement.
“I put it away,” Em said quietly. “It was how people recognized me. I’d prefer to be more discreet.” It was the truth, but only part of it. The necklace had become a constant reminder of her sister. Em preferred it out of sight.
Olivia turned away before Em could see her expression.
“You can come if you want,” Olivia said, her voice light. “But I know how emotional you get, watching humans dying. I guess you have more in common with them than the Ruined these days, don’t you?”
A few of the Ruined murmured their agreement.
Olivia looked back at Em and raised her eyebrows. She clearly wanted Em to come, if only to prove that Em couldn’t stop them. She was right. Even if Aren came with her, the two of them couldn’t stop twenty Ruined on their own.
“Let’s go,” Olivia said when Em didn’t answer. She kicked the sides of her horse and started down the road. The other Ruined followed.
“What do we do?” Aren asked quietly as they watched them go.
“Nothing.” Em closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. While she’d been fretting and feeling sorry for herself, Olivia had formed a plan. She’d organized her supporters and now there was nothing Em could do to save the people in Fayburn.
And this certainly wouldn’t do anything to endear them to the people of Lera. Cas already had his work cut out for him, trying to convince his people that not all the Ruined wanted to hurt them.
“We need to find out for sure who’s with us,” Em said. “We need a plan to stop her.”
“I know some. I can talk to Mariana and Ivanna and see who might be on our side.”
“Good. Do it. Let’s meet first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Do we have a plan to tell them?” Aren asked.
“Not really. But I think I know where we need to start.”
“Where?”
“Partnering with Cas and the Lera army.”
FIVE
IRIA HAD SPENT three nights in a jail cell.
She’d arrived in Olso dirty and exhausted from the trip across the ocean, and had actually been grateful for the tiny lumpy bed in the cell. At least it wasn’t rocking and jerking with the waves. She’d always hated traveling by ship.
But she’d only slept well the first night. The morning had brought warriors trailing in, one after another, to glare and yell at her. They didn’t usually allow prisoners awaiting trial to have visitors. It seemed Iria was the exception.
The fourth morning she woke early, the sun not yet peeking in from the tiny window at the back of her cell. She sat on her bed and waited, knees pulled to her chest.
Today would not be a good day. Today, she stood trial for treason.
Outside, she could hear the sounds of the day getting started as the sun rose—murmured voices, horse hooves on the street, even the smell of fresh bread. There was a bakery near the courthouse, and some mornings the breeze carried the scent of bread all the way to her cell.