By the time I got close to the queen’s chambers, the guards had already abandoned their post, likely rushing downstairs in an attempt to protect the queen.
Pushing open her door, I crossed the sitting room in three steps and dragged an armchair over to the queen’s mirror. Hopping up onto the chair, I studied the blue stone. The middle of the jewel was a blue so dark it looked almost black, while the outside was so light, it seemed to melt into the whorled silver of the mirror’s edge. I pushed it out of the silver casing, and it slipped free easily. The mirror’s edge had cleverly hidden the top of the stone and the long silver chain connected to it. The stone glinted in the light, strangely warm in my hand.
“I knew you would come here.”
I jolted, almost falling off the chair.
Auria stood between me and the door. The innocent smile was gone, and in its place was a wide grin that didn’t reach her eyes.
She’d…changed. Her face was almost unrecognizable without its guileless, good-humored expression.
My head spun. This was very, very bad. I needed to kill time. Needed to find a way out of this. “What do you mean?” I slowly climbed down from the chair.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice your hair growing in a lighter color at the roots? Or your eyes turning that strange shade before you changed your necklace?” She took a step closer. “I notice everything,” she hissed. “The king has already rewarded me for my loyalty. And I look forward to watching you burn.”
Panic clawed at me. I pulled on the threads of time.
But nothing happened.
Auria smiled. “Attempting your corrupt tricks? They don’t work on me. I’ve been truly blessed by the gods.”
A null. Auria was a null. That was why magic didn’t work on her. Because her own power was always bubbling under the surface, repelling other magic like a living shield.
“There’s a cell waiting for you, Setella. It’s the same one Wila sat in before she died. I thought you’d enjoy feeling close to her during your final hours.”
I caught a trace of movement in the hall behind her. My heart was so loud in my ears, I could barely hear her words. But I kept my gaze on her face.
Distract her.
“You’re one of the king’s spiders.”
She laughed. “Like in the old stories? King’s spiders don’t know they’re spiders, idiot. And they’re positioned in foreign courts until they’re needed. I knew what I was doing the whole time. Because the corrupt need to burn for their sins.”
She crumpled to the floor.
I pulled my knife, but it was Madinia who stood behind Auria’s unconscious form, a vase in her hand.
For a moment, the world went dark at the edges, and I leaned against the wall. Alive. Madinia was alive. And she’d just saved my life.
She was supposed to have gotten in one of the carriages with the others. But instead, she stood in front of me with a black eye, her face and neck covered in blood.
“What happened?”
Madinia stepped over Auria. “Davis knew I was planning something. The moment we got near the carriages, he changed.” She shuddered, and for a moment, I thought she might cry. But her eyes narrowed instead. “I killed him.” Her eyes fired, and pure challenge drenched her voice.
“I hope you made him suffer.” I slipped the amulet over my head and tucked it into my dress.
She hiccupped out a laugh. “I asked him to show me how the carriages worked, just like we planned. And once the map was keyed to his power, I was able send the carriages wherever I chose. He even let me practice on one of the carriages near the stables.”
“Then he was an idiot as well as a predator.” And he’d gotten what he’d had coming to him.
“We need to go,” she said, and it was clear that was the end of the discussion. “The hybrids are halfway to the city walls already.”
“I know. One moment.” I bolted to the queen’s bedroom and threw open her door. Most of her jewels were kept locked in a room with guards posted permanently outside. But the queen liked to have a few of her favorites within reach.
I hesitated.
But my memory kindly provided me with a reminder of the way the queen had slapped Wila across the face. The way she had allowed her to burn for what had appeared to be an accident.
I ripped a satchel from the queen’s closet and swept my hand over the dresser. Necklaces, earrings, bracelets, a ruby the size of a duck’s egg, diamond and sapphire hair combs, an emerald diadem, even a heavy jeweled crown went into the bag. I slung it crosswise over my shoulder and grinned at the portrait of the queen on the wall. “The rebellion thanks you for your donation to our cause.”
“Hurry, Prisca.” Madinia tugged on my arm. Downstairs, the screaming was continuing. But it had changed—enough that it was evident the guards were establishing some level of order.
That meant we needed to move.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
Madinia nodded. “Horses are saddled.” She threw open the door, and we hurtled down the main hall, toward the servants’ quarters. We took the back stairs—the ones Daselis had ensured would be clear, the servants nowhere to be seen.
Now.
I reached for the last tiny thread of my power. It was slippery—as if covered in blood. But I clasped it tightly.
Just a little longer.
Madinia had made certain two horses were tied directly outside of the back entrance, and I launched myself toward the closest mare.
The black panels of my dress parted easily as I mounted. I wished I’d remembered boots, but there was nothing I could do except turn the horse toward the gate and hold on, the outside of my vision dotted with dark spots.
“If I fall from this horse, you get to the Gromalian prince,” I called to Madinia.
She sent me a horrified look, her horse breaking into a canter next to mine. I threw her the satchel holding the jewels, and she caught them, tucking them away beneath her own cloak. I trusted her enough now. Knew if I went down, she would make sure the other hybrids could start a new life.
That thread of my power slipped again. Thankfully, we’d made it out of the castle grounds. But my chances of making it to the city walls were not high. I felt as if I was looking at the world from thousands of foot-spans away. My ears rang incessantly, and my breaths were shallow, weak.
I would hide here in the city if I had to. As long as I could crawl into an alley somewhere to rest, I could get back to the—
“The slums are burning!” Screams sounded as we tore through the streets. My horse reared, pawing at the air as someone darted in front, a bucket of water in his hand. I slid, almost losing my seat. “You can’t go that way,” he shouted. “Someone lit a building on fire.”
“Which building?”
“The old orphanage.”
Nausea swept through me in a wave. Madinia’s eyes met mine. “The rebels,” she said. “That’s their building, isn’t it?”
Yes. And it was no coincidence that it was burning. “We need to get there.”
“It’s too late. If the king ordered it destroyed, it will be heavily guarded.”
“I can’t just leave them there!”
“They might have gotten out.”