“He didn’t succeed.”
“Do you know why?” he asked, his eyes intent on hers. “I do. I know how you stopped your fall because I was there on the battlements when the wind tunnel appeared. I watched your mother’s man strike you on the head at her command and watched as the wind tunnel faded into the sky. And no tunnel has appeared in the sky since your mother gave you the drug that is making it almost impossible for you to stand now.”
She shook her head. That’s not what she had been told. She’d been hit with a piece of the windmill which had been broken and tossed by the wind tunnel. Seer Kheldin had made the wind appear. He had been the one who sent it away.
Garret drew closer. “I’m not your enemy, Princess,” he said. His red hair blew in a sudden draft and he smiled. “You have never believed me, but I wish to help you. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do.”
She lifted her blade as sweat trickled down her face. “Prove it,” she said. “Tell me what the Council is plotting and I’ll let you live.”
“I could do that,” Garret said leaning forward. “But I won’t. At least not yet.”
“I hate to break it to you, Garret, but I am a little pressed for time.”
He smiled. “I’m sure you are. With everyone in the Hall of Virtues, now is the perfect time to sneak out of the castle. I’ll make you a deal. I’ll tell you what I know . . . if you take me with you.”
Everything in her went still. “With me? Why?”
“Because I know who you are.” He stepped closer. “And I know what you are meant to do.”
The crown was heavy. The deep blue robe Elder Cestrum had placed on his shoulders was hot. He took deep breaths to quiet the straining he felt in his chest, then called the Elders over.
“Tell the High Lords I wish to see all of them tomorrow. Now that I am King there is a war to be won and they will help me win it.”
“I’m sure the High Lords will be happy to give their advice, Your Majesty.” Elder Cestrum nodded.
“I don’t need their advice,” he spat. “I just need their men. Their own regions will be better defended when Adderton is brought to heel. My father and Micah must be avenged. And we must prove to all the kingdoms—and the Bastians who many still support—that we will not tolerate those who do not walk in the light.”
“We will tell the High Lords you require their presence, Your Majesty,” Elder Ulrich said, stepping next to Elder Jacobs. “If you are certain that is the path you wish to take.”
“It is,” he said, remembering the night he and Imogen made these plans. She might be gone, but her words and her love would guide him from the grave.
“You can’t be serious,” Errik said as Garret followed Carys down the trapdoor to the stairs below.
Pain flared in her legs. She leaned against the wall and explained, “Garret has information about the Council that I need for when I return. And about . . . my past. He’s coming.”
“Are you certain you will return, Highness?” Errik stepped forward and put a hand on her arm. “You could leave Eden and all its problems behind. You could be free of this place . . . forever.”
She thought of her brother—seated this moment on the throne, mistakenly believing he was in control. She thought of the people of Garden City who had watched her struggle and raised their banners to honor her fight that so mirrored their own.
“I have no choice. When I am stronger, I will come back to Eden and fight against all who would bring it down—whether it be Adderton, the Council, or someone yet to be uncovered.”
“What about your brother?” he asked gently. “Do you believe he will welcome your return?”
He wouldn’t have a choice. The rules of the Trials guaranteed it.
“My brother can wait. We have to go.”
“With Garret.” Lord Errik sighed.
“Jealous, my lord?” Carys asked.
Errik stepped forward, touched his fingers to her cropped hair, and said, “Not yet. Now follow me.”
“I’m not sure I’m ready to climb down the plateau,” she said, thinking of the sheer drop and the wind . . . the wind that she had no idea how to control. She would learn. She had to.
“No climbing will be required of you this time.” Errik’s expression was unreadable as he said, “I know a way.”
“What way?” she asked. She’d been through these passages hundreds of times. She knew them better than anyone.
Or so she thought as he held the torch aloft and led her through the dark, cold passages to an opening that had never been there before. She was not sure of much right now, but of that she was certain.
Before she could ask how he had discovered the opening he said, “The others are waiting. If you wish to stay dead, we must go.”
With each step through the narrow space she felt more unsettled about what the hidden passage meant and how he had discovered it. When she stepped out of the passage and found herself safely at the base of the plateau where Garret and Larkin waited with the three horses Errik must have brought here, she wondered again why he was helping her.
He refused to meet her eyes as he helped her onto a chestnut-colored mare. But his touch was warm as he handed her the reins and asked if she was ready to ride.
Secrets. So many of them. Errik’s. Garret’s. The Council’s. Mother’s. Hers.
She would uncover them all, she thought as she clutched the reins tight in her hands and nodded. “Let’s go.”
The wind whipped harder as the horse took her farther away from the battlements she’d always despised. Looking up at the white stone walls, Carys vowed to return. No matter what Errik’s true agenda was or what Garret wanted from her, she would come back. Nothing would stop her. And when she did, the game the Council and her brother thought had ended would begin again.
Only when next they played, the game would be on her terms.