“I taught him how to use his Ruined magic without involving his own body,” Olivia said. “We’re teaching some of the other Ruined too. Not everyone can do it, but the most powerful ones can.”
Aren poured water from the pitcher into a cup. “We’ll be much safer if we can use our powers without exhausting our bodies. The best ones—”
A yell from outside cut off his words. Em grabbed her sword from the corner and flew through the front door. Ruined ran out of their cabins, their attention all in the same place: about twenty horses headed their way from the north, riders perched on each of them. A red-and-white flag flew from the front horse. Olso warriors.
“Stay behind me,” Olivia said to Em as she took off running.
“Don’t attack,” Em called as she followed her sister. “They’re our allies!”
The horses halted, dust blowing up around them. Olivia skidded to a stop, putting one arm out like she was protecting Em. The Ruined marks on her neck shifted as she swallowed. She clearly didn’t believe the warriors were their allies.
There were nineteen horses total, each with a rider dressed in black. Arms were lifted in surrender. The warrior with the flag jumped off her horse and started toward them, her arms also raised. Em squinted, taking a step forward.
“It’s Iria,” Aren said from behind Em.
Em slid her sword into her belt and started toward Iria. Olivia grabbed her arm.
“It’s all right.” Em gently shook her arm free. “It’s just Iria.”
Olivia didn’t appear convinced, but she didn’t protest as Em walked away.
Iria lowered her arms as she approached Em, one side of her mouth curving up. “Emelina.”
“Iria.” She stopped in front of the warrior. Iria looked haggard, her black wavy hair pulled back in a messy bun. Dark circles marred the skin under her eyes. She must have barely made it home to Olso from Lera before turning around and riding south to Ruina.
“Forgive the unannounced arrival,” Iria said. “We didn’t know how else to approach you.”
“As long as you keep your weapons lowered, we’ll be fine.”
“We’re not here to fight,” Iria said. “We’ve come to speak with your queen.” She looked past Em at Olivia.
“You’re talking to one of them.”
Iria blinked. “What?”
Em lifted her shoulders, a smile spreading across her face. It was still a smile of disbelief. “Olivia and I rule Ruina together, as equals. I’m one of their queens.”
Iria’s expression mirrored Em’s own incredulity. “Oh. Wow.”
“Yeah.”
“Would Olivia like to come over?” Iria asked. “I’ll introduce you both to him, then.”
“To who?”
Iria turned without responding. She walked to one of the warriors on horseback and extended her hand to him. He didn’t take it as he jumped off the horse.
Em looked over her shoulder and gestured for her sister to join her. Olivia’s frown deepened, but she stepped forward and stood next to Em.
The man who’d dismounted his horse strode toward them. He was very tall, towering over Iria, and she practically had to jog to keep up with his long strides. His black pants were dusty and the dark circles under his eyes matched Iria’s, but his face was open and friendly.
“This is Emelina and Olivia Flores, queens of the Ruined,” Iria said. “I’d like to introduce you to August Santana, prince of Olso.”
Em’s regarded him suspiciously. What was the youngest prince of Olso doing in Ruina?
“Queens?” A grin spread across August’s face. “How unusual. I like it.” He bowed his head, tapping his fist to his chest once. It was the traditional way to greet a Ruined royal, and Em stood there stupidly for a moment, flabbergasted by the show of respect.
She found her senses and quickly interlaced her fingers, putting them beneath her chin and bowing deeply. Her mother had instructed her on the proper way to greet the Olso royal family, and she said a quick thanks to past Em for paying attention. Olivia stood there rigidly.
“It’s nice to meet you too?” Em said, unable to keep the question out of her voice.
August seemed pleased by her confusion. His skin was lighter than hers, his hair golden. He was broad and muscular, probably almost twice her size, and normally she’d keep a hand close to her sword when facing such a man. But his expression was so relaxed, so friendly, that she didn’t think it necessary.
That made her want to reach for her sword even more. They were standing close enough that she could grab her blade and have it in his chest in less than five seconds.
She resisted the urge and returned his smile. “This is unexpected.”
He chuckled. “When you refused the king’s invitation to come to Olso, my brother thought it best to come to you.”
“We were eager to go home,” she said.
“I understand. I’ve come to talk about our alliance. Are you open to that discussion?”
“Of course.”
August looked at Olivia, like he expected her to say something as well. She remained silent.
August cleared his throat. “Is it all right if we set up camp over there?”
“That’s fine.” Em turned, gesturing for Mariana to join them. “Mariana is our director of foreign affairs. She’ll help you get settled.”
Mariana nodded and greeted August.
“Can you please give one of the cabins to Prince August?” Em asked her.
“There’s no need,” August said. “I’ll be perfectly comfortable in my tent.”
“I insist,” Em said. “It’s not much, but it will be more comfortable than the ground.”
“Thank you, then,” August said. He smiled broadly at Em. “I look forward to speaking with you more.”
He turned and walked back to the other warriors.
“They’re here because they want something, Em,” Olivia said quietly.
Of course they wanted something. Her deal with King Lucio was supposed to be over after Olso invaded Lera, but she wasn’t naive enough to believe that would actually happen. They wanted access to the mines or Ruined help or something worse. Something she wasn’t prepared to give.
“I know.”
EIGHT
CAS HEARD THE door open, but he didn’t bother turning to look. He knew it was the soldier who delivered meals twice daily. Five days had passed since Jovita locked him in his room, and no one but that soldier had entered since.
The door shut, the click of the lock echoing in the silence. He rolled over in bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin. The breakfast tray sat on the floor near the door. He stared at it for a few moments, debating whether it was too much effort to get up.
The first day, he’d pounded on the door. Yelled for someone to let him out. Tried desperately to remove the doorknob. Nothing worked.
The second day he asked to talk to Jovita. She never came.
The third day, he gave up.