Kyra let out a sigh of relief, though she wasn’t sure if the relief was because James had been recaptured or because he was still alive. “So they have him again.” But there was more to the story. Otherwise, Flick wouldn’t have looked so disturbed.
“They did nab him. The magistrate was furious, as was the Council, as you might expect. They’ve decided to stop trying to get information out of him and to make an example of him instead.” Flick took a breath. “They’ve sentenced James to torture and a public execution in two days.”
A chill spread over Kyra’s skin at Flick’s words. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything.
“In the city square, as usual?” she finally asked.
“That’s the news.”
Kyra was familiar with the type of spectacle planned for James. The Palace reserved it for its most notorious criminals, to make an example of the very worst and warn others away. Kyra had gone once out of curiosity, and she’d had nightmares for a solid week afterward. The criminal hadn’t been recognizable as a man by the time they’d finished with him, and he’d screamed until he was no longer physically able to continue. She swallowed against the bile suddenly rising in her stomach.
“You’re certain of this?” she asked.
“It’s all anyone was talking about.”
It shouldn’t have surprised her. After the Demon Rider raids and the latest escape attempt, it only made sense that the Palace would choose a public and painful way for James to die. But that didn’t stop her gut from twisting at the prospect.
“Kyra?” Flick put his hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look at him.
She shook herself. “Sorry.”
“What are you thinking?”
If only she knew. Her thoughts about James had always been an inscrutable mass. “I’ve every reason to hate him,” she said slowly. “But his ends were not completely unjust.” James had done some inexcusable things. She wouldn’t romanticize him as she had before, but they’d come to some sort of understanding in that dungeon, and it didn’t feel like the na?ve infatuation she used to hold.
“I need to get back into the city,” she said.
Flick sat up. “Kyra, you can’t let one comment from Leyus push you into risking your life. He might be your father by blood, but he’s never done anything for you.”
“I in’t doing this because of Leyus. Tristam and Malikel are in trouble with the Palace on my account. I need to speak with Tristam, to see if there’s any way I can help, and I’d like to—” She’d been about to say that she wanted to talk to James one more time. “I’d like to see if I can learn anything more about the Guild before James dies.”
Flick shook his head, massaging the knuckles of one of his hands. “I won’t try to stop you. Never does any good.”
Was she really that hardheaded? “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
He smiled at that, and tugged on a strand of her hair. “The problem is, you have a funny idea of what it means to be careful.”
T W E N T Y - O N E
Getting back into the city wasn’t hard, but moving around without being recognized was tricky. Kyra waited until it was dark to scale the city walls. Once inside, she kept her cloak low over her face. She weaved her way through the evening crowds, taking care not to attract anyone’s attention. Parchments with her likeness were posted in the larger squares, and Kyra had a nervous moment when a maidservant squinted at her, trying to see beneath her cloak. Kyra affected her most unconcerned expression and walked on. No one chased after her, and she soon found herself staring at the Palace wall.