She thought of the perfume Verity doused herself in, the scent so strong, it often gave Rune a headache.
What if she douses herself intentionally to cover another scent?
The scent of her magic.
But that would make Verity a witch. And if it was true, why hide herself from Rune, who was also a witch?
The sky darkened overhead, and Rune looked up. Storm clouds were rolling in fast.
Her head spun, unable to make sense of it. But Rune was running out of time; she was late to meet Gideon. Once she did, she would head for the palace, where, she hoped, Verity would be waiting with an explanation.
As the rain started to fall, she fetched Lady from the stables, and together they raced toward Old Town.
FIFTY-FIVE
RUNE
GIDEON WAITED FOR HER in the doorway.
Leaving Lady in the rain, which was coming down in sheets, Rune withdrew the boxed flowers from the saddlebag and made a run for it, keeping the hood of her cloak pulled over her hair.
She was grateful for the storm. It would help cover her tracks once she’d gotten Seraphine out of the palace.
As Gideon held open the door for her, Rune stepped, dripping, into the foyer.
“Come in,” he said, heading into his parents’ shop, where the lights were already on.
His gunpowder smell filled the entryway, bringing a rush of memories swirling through Rune. Memories she did not want to relive right now. She pushed them aside and followed him in, letting the door fall shut behind her.
“I can’t stay long.”
“Somewhere important to be?”
His voice sounded strange. Like someone had wrung out all the emotion, leaving it empty and cold.
“N-no, I …”
Where to start? So much had happened since three nights ago.
First: the flowers.
She held out the box containing the silk flowers he’d made for her. “I came here to return this.”
Gideon turned to face her. Stubble shadowed his cheeks, and there were dark circles under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept all night. He stood at the long worktable, and when he didn’t reach to take the box, Rune approached and set it down on the wooden surface. She immediately stepped back, putting space between them.
Now: the engagement.
Rune had been dreading this part. She’d gone over the words in her head, trying to find the right way to tell him about her and Alex, but none of them seemed right.
“Can I ask you something, Miss Winters?”
“Of course,” said Rune, happy for the interruption, but wondering why he was being so formal.
“Was any of it real?”
“Real?” She frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You. Me. Us.” Gideon shoved his hands in his pockets. “What we did three nights ago. Did you mean any of it? Or were you toying with me the whole time?”
Her stomach dipped. What was he talking about?
He withdrew his hands and held out both fists, turning them over. When his hands unfurled, Rune saw what lay on each of his palms.
A vial of blood and an access coin.
How …?
“This is how you manage it,” said Gideon, lifting the vial to study it. “It’s why you don’t have any casting scars.”
Rune froze.
He knows what I am.
“Crimson Moth,” he breathed as his gaze met hers. “I’ve finally caught you.”
She backed away from him. Stupid, stupid girl. This was a trap. She’d not only walked straight into it, she’d set it up!
Turning on her heel, Rune launched herself back through the shop’s entrance, into the foyer. As she grabbed the handle of the door leading out onto the street, where Lady waited for her, someone pulled it open from the other side.
Laila Creed stood in the frame. Behind her were half a dozen Blood Guard soldiers, their pistols drawn.
Rune stumbled back. She glanced at the stairs, knowing where they led. If she could get to the top and barricade herself inside Gideon’s apartment, she might escape through a window …
“Not so fast, witch.”
Laila grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her backward. Pain pierced Rune’s scalp as she hit the floor. Tears stung her eyes as she tried to get up, but every movement only made Laila pull harder. Forcing her to fall still.
Strong hands seized her arms, dragging her inside the shop. The door slammed shut behind them.
The brute whose meaty fingers dug into Rune’s arms shoved her forward. She tripped, stumbling to her knees before Gideon—who didn’t move to help her.
“I d-don’t understand.” The cement floor was cold beneath her palms. “H-how did you—”
“I came to Wintersea last night,” said Gideon. “Wanting to apologize in person and set the record straight.”
Of course. The flowers. It wasn’t Lizbeth who left them on her bed. It was Gideon.
“When I arrived, the house was dark, and no servant greeted me. I almost turned around and left, but the sound of voices stopped me. My first thought was that Cressida had come for you. Fearing the worst, I followed the voices.”
He heard us plotting to rescue Seraphine, she realized.
“You can imagine my surprise when your bedroom wall opened up before my eyes. I hid myself while you and your accomplices walked out of your casting room.”
That’s how he found the vial of blood. While Rune was showing Alex and Verity out, he must have snuck inside the casting room. He would have seen everything: the spell books, the blood vials, the symbols on the floor.
“I’m not sure what disgusts me more,” said Gideon. “What you are, or that I fell for your act.”
Those words stung like a slap.
“Want us to strip her down, Captain?” said the brute behind her.
“He’s already looked,” said Rune, rising to her knees, her voice quaking with anger. “Haven’t you, Gideon? You searched every inch of me three nights ago.”
Gideon’s face darkened. “There’s no need to strip her. I have all the proof I need.”
“We should search her at least,” said Laila. “She might be armed.”
“Fine. Search her.” He nodded to a soldier in the foyer. “Her horse is outside. Check the saddlebags.”
Rune quailed. The stolen Blood Guard uniform was in her saddlebag.
This is the end, she realized. The evidence mounting against her was too damning.
Laila hauled Rune to her feet, then unclasped her cloak and handed it off. As the meaty one held Rune’s arms, Laila crouched down, feeling inside Rune’s riding boots with one hand while the other kept her pistol aimed at Rune’s face. “No sudden movements.”
As Laila’s hand moved up one leg, then the other, Rune stared at Gideon. Remembering all over again what he was. A formidable enemy. A boy who wanted girls like her strung up and killed.
He’d been gathering evidence against her from the beginning, waiting for the right moment to bring her down. The gifts. The kisses. The words whispered in the dark between his bedsheets …
None of it had meant a thing.
“You are everything I thought you were,” she told him.
Laila found the knife strapped to Rune’s thigh, pulled it out, and tossed it aside. Gideon watched it go skittering across the floor.
“And you,” said Gideon, voice quiet, “are nothing at all like I imagined you’d be.”
For someone who’d been hunting her so relentlessly for two years, he should be more triumphant, she thought. Gloating and preening. Instead, he looked … destroyed.
Laila continued patting Rune’s body, never once meeting her gaze. Like Rune was no better than a dog.
“There’s nothing else,” Rune told her, face burning. “Just the knife.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” said Laila.
The soldier who’d searched her saddlebags came back inside, approaching Gideon with the stolen Blood Guard uniform in hand. He set the clothes down on the table.
Rune swallowed, watching Gideon’s eyes narrow on the uniform, clearly wondering how she’d acquired it.
“What’s this?” Laila pressed the cold barrel of her pistol to Rune’s chest, tugging at the silver chain hanging there, the bottom of which was hidden below her shirt.