No apology came for what she was doing to me.
With my meal the next morning, I received water instead of the drugged tea. With no use of my hands, I was forced to lap it from the cup like an animal. Over the course of the day my headache receded and my magic began to come back to me again, but so high in the tower and surrounded by stone, I couldn’t reach anything other than my own power. I only once made the mistake of trying to pull apart the enchantment concealing the door, but something made the threads of magic too slippery to hang on to. I tried everything I could think of until I had thoroughly exhausted myself—everything but pulling the life force out of the people who came to deliver my second meal. Even now, I couldn’t sink that low.
Poe was the one who came to take the second batch of blood. She took it more gently than last time, using a thin slit on my already wounded wrist, carefully delivered where it wouldn’t do any damage. Still, I trembled in the hands of the two warriors who held me—but this time it was with fury, not pain. How could these three look me in the eyes after I’d spent nearly a week before being imprisoned learning their names, hearing their stories, sharing with them pieces of my past? How could their loyalty to Nismae be stronger than empathy for someone who had never done them any harm?
By the time Poe moved to the fourth vial, my head had begun to swim. “Why are you taking so much?” I slurred.
“Nismae’s orders,” Poe said, her voice shaky.
“What is she doing with it?” I asked.
Poe shrugged, unable to meet my eyes. “Giving gifts to Invasya,” she murmured.
By the time I woke up, I was alone and unbound again, and then the next morning I was served another batch of tea thick with tranquilizers. I drank it, grateful for the oblivion. I didn’t want to remember Ina. I didn’t want to think about where I was or what would come next.
Nismae looked happier the next time she visited me several days later. “We’re so close,” she told me. “You’re going to be the reason for change in this kingdom.”
Resentment burned in my breast as I stared at her, wishing I could tear her apart the way I had Leozoar. But her iron cuffs blocked my ability to steal her life force, and so instead she left me with a cup of water and a stronger urge than ever to walk out the open window.
Later that night, someone whispered my name in my ear.
It sounded like Hal. Another dream. Another betrayal. Another lost hope.
“Go away,” I mumbled to the dream phantom.
“Wake up, Asra!” Hal said more insistently.
“Leave me alone!” I struck out with my good arm, and my fist connected with solid flesh.
“Gods!” Scuffling followed, along with several more curses.
I cracked an eye open. Hal stood silhouetted against the moonlight streaming in through the window. Even after all these hours, days, weeks, I still recognized the breadth of his shoulders, the angle of his jawline, the way he moved.
“I suppose I deserved that, but you could at least warn a person,” he said.
“Why are you here?” I asked. I wasn’t in the mood to be teased. The rescue I had dreamed of was too good to be true.
“To get you out. I’m so sorry, Asra. I didn’t know where she had put you. I could Hear you, but I couldn’t find you. There’s some kind of enchantment on this room.”
I wanted so badly to believe him.
“How did you find me?”
“I eavesdropped on Poe, since I knew she’d be helping Nis,” he admitted. “I never would have found you otherwise.”
I sat up on my pallet, my injured arm burning and prickling in the way that had become familiar as it healed. I didn’t trust him. He was part of the reason I was here.
“You let her do this to me,” I accused him. “You led me straight to her, knowing she might be dangerous. I thought we were friends.” I never would have let anyone hurt him.
“We are friends,” he said. “But Ina could have killed me. Would have if Nis hadn’t stopped her. I saw it in her eyes. What use would I have been to you then?”
I didn’t want to believe that it was true, but I had seen it, too.
I hated her.
I touched my bandaged wrist where Ina’s courting bracelet had once lain. For the first time, I wondered if things would truly be better or different if I rewrote the past. Had Ina ever loved me? I thought she had, but the moment everything had fallen apart, she left. The moment I had confessed to her, she admitted to betrayal. The only person who kept coming back for me was Hal . . . and I didn’t know if I could trust him either.
“I’m sorry for hitting you. I didn’t think you were real,” I said.
“It’s all right. Like I said, I deserved it. How is your arm?” The sadness in his question was as palpable as the lumpy mat I sat on.
“My hand doesn’t work the same way anymore,” I said. “They’ve kept the bandages clean and changed, no doubt because they don’t want to risk me getting a case of blood poisoning. Might inhibit them from draining me again.”
“Yes, they’re planning to do it again tomorrow.” His voice took on new urgency. “That’s why I need to get you out tonight. There’s more—but I’d rather talk about it somewhere else.” For once he didn’t sound like he was joking.
I stood up and brushed the straw and dust from my rumpled clothes. He didn’t have golden wings like in my dreams, but any place was better than here.
“Lead the way,” I said.
He walked over to the window and beckoned me to the edge. We faced each other, feet no more than a hand’s width from the edge. “Do you trust me?” he asked.
I shrugged. I didn’t, but it wasn’t as if I had any choice. I could always take off on my own after I regained some strength and got far enough away from Nismae to disappear. I didn’t have to trust him to do that.
“I need you to for just a few minutes, because we’re going to fly,” he said. “My life will be in your hands as much as yours will be in mine.”
“All right,” I said. Nervousness fluttered in my stomach.
“Put this on,” he said, grabbing something off the floor that looked like a cross between a vest and a harness. He helped me secure the buckles in the back, then unhooked a bundle of lines from somewhere outside the window and clipped half of them to me and the rest to himself.
“Stand behind me as close to the edge as you can get. Once we get moving, keep your legs straight out behind you and follow the motion of my body if you can. If you can’t, just try to stay steady and straight.” He waved his hand and called a gust of wind. A winged contraption in the shape of a wide inverted triangle dropped from the tower wall to hover before the window. It was made of pale blue fabric stretched taut over a frame made of some material I didn’t recognize. A straight bar hung from the middle of it.
“What is that thing?” I asked. I had never seen or heard of anything like it.
“Meet the Moth, one of the few things I helped Nismae craft,” he said. “She’s made of fabric and dragon bones, and she’s our way out of here.”
“How did you get it from her?” I asked.
“She sent me out on a mission with it tonight. I came here instead. They won’t look for it—or me—until morning,” Hal said. “Are you ready?”
I nodded, not sure how to respond to the knowledge that he’d betrayed her for me. I didn’t imagine Nismae reacted well to incomplete missions, much less her own brother turning on her.
Hal pulled me closer, the scent of him so clean and pure I felt as transported as I’d been in my dreams. In spite of my new uncertainties about him, the familiarity of his closeness brought such solace that I struggled not to cling to him, to bury my face in his back, to hold on and never let go.
“On the count of three, we jump,” he said.