Panic ignited around her as the warriors realized Lucio was dead. The yells from his brothers rose above the rest of the noise, and Em wanted to press her hands to her ears.
Olivia stepped forward, making a beeline for the rest of the royal family. Em grabbed her arm.
“Don’t,” she pleaded. The family scattered in all directions.
Olivia shook her off with a glare. “Are you serious? They kidnapped you. They betrayed us. Just like I told you they would.”
“We’re not going to accomplish anything this way.” Em’s heart pounded in her chest, the smoke starting to burn her nostrils. She didn’t want to do this again. She’d already escaped this once.
“I tried it your way,” Olivia said. “I’m done trying to reason with these people. This is the only thing they understand.” She raised her arm, pointing at something. Em followed her finger. George stopped in his tracks, his head separating from his body.
Then, everything exploded. One moment she was standing next to Olivia, and the next she was sprawled out on the grass near the castle. She tried to lift her head, but the world seemed to have tilted. Her ears were ringing.
Why was it so warm suddenly?
Why did her arm burn?
She blinked. Something dripped into her eyes.
Nearby, someone gasped. It was August. He was in front of her, tearing his jacket off. He launched his body on top of hers.
The world suddenly shifted back into focus. The left side of her body was on fire.
August had the fire out as soon as she realized what was happening, and he scrambled to his feet, wincing as he scanned her body. She followed his gaze to her left arm, where the jacket had burned away, along with a good portion of her flesh.
She could barely feel the pain radiating up her arm. Panic and shock reverberated through her body instead.
August was still staring at her, and she wiped her good arm across her forehead. Blood.
“I warned you,” she said. The words came out sadder than she’d intended.
August’s face crumpled. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
She jerked her head, indicating for him to run. He took off immediately, disappearing around the side of the castle.
Em stumbled to her feet, squinting in the smoke around her. What had caused that explosion?
“Em?” Olivia’s panicked voice broke through the screams around her. Olivia came to a stop in front of her, her eyes wide as she surveyed her sister. She was covered in dirt but appeared mostly unharmed.
“I’ll fix it.” Olivia jumped in front of her, carefully lifting Em’s injured arm up. She leaned over, trying to see the damage to Em’s back.
Em jerked her arm away. The pain was so severe suddenly that her vision turned black. “You’ll fix it?” Her voice sounded shrill.
“Calm down,” Olivia snapped. “I’ll heal you and find a Ruined to protect you until we’re done.”
“I wouldn’t need protection if you hadn’t marched in here and murdered their king!” She tried to focus on the bodies on the ground. The man dead on the ground near them had Ruined marks snaking up his arm. Em wasn’t the only one who needed protection.
“He had it coming.” Olivia waved her arm at something behind Em. Screams followed. Em didn’t turn to look at the dead bodies.
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in her chest. “Our mother used to say that, didn’t she? Everyone always had it coming. I guess she had it coming too.”
“Em!” Olivia gasped.
Her arm suddenly burned so intensely it was hard to stay upright. The edges of her vision went black again. “I knew you would come. I warned them that you would destroy everything in your path. And do you want to know the worst part? Part of me hoped you wouldn’t come at all.” The words flowed out of her mouth almost against her will. Olivia looked like Em had slapped her. “Part of me couldn’t bear the thought of you killing even more people. You killed children in there, Liv. Is that what a queen does?”
Olivia glared at her. “Who are you to lecture me about what a queen does? You’re only queen because I let you—”
Another blast rocked the ground, drowning out the words. Olivia was gone again. Em was no longer standing. Grass tickled her face. She tried to roll over onto her back, but it was too much work. Darkness was closing in on her, and it was much easier to let it sweep her away.
She closed her eyes.
THIRTY-NINE
THE MAN STOPPED short as soon as he spotted Aren and screwed his face into an expression that was probably supposed to mask his fear. He failed.
“Hi, Franco,” Violet said, stepping around Aren and Iria and walking closer to the house looming in front of them.
Aren touched his neck. Iria had informed him of the two new Ruined marks snaking up the side of his neck, making him far more conspicuous than he used to be. He didn’t mind.
“Come on,” Iria said quietly, slipping her hand into his. He let her pull him through the tall iron gate, closer to the scared man.
“Franco, this is Aren,” Violet said. “And Iria. Former warrior.”
Franco looked between them. “You brought me a Ruined and an Olso warrior. You shouldn’t have, Violet.” One side of his mouth turned up.
“I also brought you two king’s guards and a message from King Casimir,” Violet said, pointing to Mateo and Ric, walking the horses through the gate behind them.
Franco turned and jerked his head toward the house. “Come on in.”
Aren hesitated for a moment, unsure if he meant all of them, but Violet motioned for him and Iria to follow.
Three children crowded around the door as they approached. They all stared at Aren.
The older girl and boy stepped back, but the younger boy tilted his chin up, mouth hanging open.
“What kind are you?” he asked.
“Bruno,” Franco said sharply. “Don’t be rude.”
“It’s fine,” Aren said, and found that he meant it. The boy was staring at him with interest, not fear.
“Introduce yourself first,” Franco said to the boy.
“I’m Bruno,” he said.
“Aren. I ruin the body.”
Bruno’s eyes got wider. “That’s the best one!”
“Thank you. I think so too.” Aren grinned.
Bruno stuck his hand out. “Make this move. You can do that, right?”
Franco chuckled, stepping between them and steering Bruno toward his brother and sister. “Why don’t you kids go upstairs for a bit? I need to talk to our guests.”
The children ran upstairs, Bruno twisting around to wave at Aren as he went. Aren lifted his hand before turning to face Franco.
“I wouldn’t have used my powers on him without your permission,” Aren said quietly.
“I appreciate that. I think it’s best you don’t.” Franco motioned to a woman lingering by the stairs. He introduced her as his wife, Esperanza, and ushered them all into the living room.
Aren sat down next to Iria. The room was large and sunny, with brightly colored furniture, but his gaze was on the small statue of one of the ancestors on the table next to him. He could swear these statues were following him.