She didn’t hesitate. She held his hand tighter and matched his strides.
They ran for several minutes, until the forest was quiet again and it was clear none of the warriors were stupid enough to follow them. Iria dropped his hand and leaned against a tree trunk, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.
“Why did you do that?” Aren asked, also struggling to catch his breath.
“They … had … a sword,” Iria gasped out.
“You could have tried to signal me discreetly!”
“You weren’t looking at me.”
“You betrayed them. They’re going to execute you for that.”
She leaned over and braced her hands against her thighs. “We don’t execute people in Olso. It would be life in prison.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
She let out a strangled laugh. “What did I …” She straightened, her eyes wide and full of tears. “I just …” Her breath became panicked puffs again.
Aren jumped forward and grabbed her by the arms. “Go back. Tell them Santino was messing with your mind. Tell them you realized as soon as you got away from him that he’d been confusing you the whole time.”
She shook her head.
“They’ll believe it if you aren’t gone for long. Do you want me to hit you? I can make it look like we struggled.”
She shook her head again, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I don’t want to take it back. They betrayed you and—and …” She took in a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to take it back. It was the right thing to do.”
She lowered her head, sobs shaking her shoulders. He pulled her close to him, wrapping one arm around her waist and putting his other hand in her hair. She tucked her arms against his chest.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
He held her for a long time, until her shoulders stopped shaking and her breathing evened out. When she pulled away from him she seemed embarrassed, wiping her cheeks and avoiding his gaze.
He wanted to tell her not to be embarrassed. He wanted to pull her back into his arms and keep her there until she wasn’t sad anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she said, letting out a long breath. “They told me they have Em.”
He snapped to attention, all the warmth of her body against his fading. “What?”
“A warrior took me aside when Rodrigo was pretending to give you the letter. He said, ‘August has Emelina. Our orders are to go back to Olso.’”
“Why would August take Em? What’s he going to do with her?”
She lifted her shoulders. “I have no idea.”
“Olivia wouldn’t stay in Sacred Rock if she knew the warriors took Em. And if all of the warriors disappeared along with her, she’s going to know what happened.”
“That was deeply stupid on August’s part.”
“Yes, it was. Should we go to Olso? Could we get across the border?”
“No, not just the two of us. There’s no way.”
He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “Maybe we should go back to Sacred Rock. Maybe some Ruined stayed behind. Or …” His voice trailed off, and he looked up at the sun. They’d run south. They were close to the fortress. Dangerously close. “Cas,” he said quietly.
“What?” Iria looked over her shoulder, like Cas might be standing there.
“We’re not far from the fortress. He and Em were meeting secretly, sharing information. He might know what happened. And even if he doesn’t …” Just watch. If we get separated again, I bet we find each other. Cas had said those words to Aren with such confidence. “Em’s going to find him. Or he’s going to find her.” If Olivia didn’t find Em first, Em would head straight for Cas. She would have nowhere else to go, if everyone had cleared out of Sacred Rock. It was the only meeting place he could think of.
“How are we going to get to him?” Iria asked.
“I have no idea.”
THIRTY-FIVE
THE CARRIAGE WITH no horses stopped within view of the Olso castle. Em gaped as August dragged her toward it.
It was massive, the tallest point extending so far up into the sky she had to lift her chin to see it. Even the shorter peaks were taller than any building she’d ever seen. It was mostly white stone, with red tips at the highest points.
A moat surrounded the castle, and Em watched as a bridge lowered down, allowing them access. August nudged her in the back and she started forward.
The guards near the front entrance didn’t move or even acknowledge their presence as they crossed the bridge. Their uniforms were different from the warriors’. They were still red and white, but stiffer and thicker, with big shoulder pads and tassels hanging from their chests.
The guards were in front of a large wooden door, and the one in the middle turned and grasped the handle. The doors creaked, and he stood back, staring straight ahead as they walked through.
A courtyard was beyond the gates, a door to the castle straight ahead of them. The door was open and a bulky man with short blond hair leaned against the frame, one foot crossed over the other.
“You’re back,” the man said. He surveyed Em. “And you’ve brought a prisoner.”
“This is Emelina Flores. Emelina, meet my brother George.”
George looked from Em to August. “Well, that’s typical.”
“I—”
“We sent you to marry one of the Flores sisters, and instead you bring us one as your prisoner,” George interrupted. “What’d she do? Insult your hair?”
Em snorted. August glared at her.
“I had a good reason,” August said through clenched teeth. “Where’s Lucio?”
“On his way down. Come in.” George crooked his finger at Em. She shuffled forward and he grasped her ropes, pulling at the knot.
“Don’t,” August said.
“Oh, come on.” George released the ropes and tossed them behind her, at a warrior. “You don’t need to bind her hands anymore. You’re just being petty.”
August stomped inside and George winked at Em.
“You’re all going to die,” Em said.
George threw his head back with a laugh. “You’re exactly how they described.”
“If you don’t let me go, my sister is going to kill all of you.”
“Save it, my dear. You’re in Olso. King Lucio is the only one you should be pleading your case to.”
George strode inside and she followed him, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit castle. It was the exact opposite of the Lera castle. Where the Lera castle was bright and colorful, Olso’s was dark and gloomy. There weren’t many windows, so lanterns lined the walls, casting a glow over the white stone.
August led them down a hallway to his right. She found herself in a round, brighter entryway with two extravagant staircases that arched around and almost met at the bottom.
A man was descending the staircase on the left. He wore a deep-red tunic and black pants, his blond hair brushing his shoulders. He looked very much like August, though he was a bit shorter. This must be Lucio.