I’m preparing for a trip. Several have already gone safely.
I think about you every day. I hope everyone is being kind to you.
I know you can do this. I never doubted you, not for a second.
She blinked back tears before turning to Iria and Aren. “He got rid of the bodies. He said several Ruined have already made it across the border into Olso safely.”
Iria leaned against the back of a chair, bracing her hands against it. “That’s right. We’ve sent a good number of warriors to the border to help them cross over into Olso, as promised. There are a decent number of hunters on the Ruina side, but hopefully they won’t be a problem. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear a report.”
“And then they’re going to see your king?” Em prompted.
“Why?” Aren asked, his brows knitting together.
Iria threw her hands up. “The two of you, honestly. So suspicious all the time. He just wants to meet everyone for himself. See what they can do. We’re bringing them to Olso to join our army. We need to understand what we have at our disposal.”
“At your disposal,” Aren repeated with an eye roll.
“Ruined have never partnered with anyone before! We need to figure out how to integrate you into our battle plan,” Iria said. “May I remind you that we are the ones helping you?”
“Yes, please remind me.” Aren’s voice turned cold. “Remind me how you all sat back while they rounded us up and killed us. And remind me how I should be grateful now that you’ve decided to step in with no apology, no explanation, no understanding of why Em and I might be a bit suspicious of everyone. Remind me why I should just forget all that and move on, because you’ve decided we’re useful.”
Pink appeared on Iria’s cheeks. Em gave Aren a small, sympathetic smile, and he lifted one shoulder as if to say sorry. She shrugged, a don’t apologize to me shrug. They didn’t need words to communicate about this, didn’t need to be sorry for losing their grip on the anger for a moment. They’d been friends before, but they were bonded together now, bonded by a rage even Damian didn’t understand. He’d reacted with sadness; Em and Aren had clawed their way through the wrath and come out the other side together.
“What happens after they see the king?” Em asked, resisting the urge to let Iria suffer a few seconds more.
She cleared her throat, obviously still uncomfortable. “They’ll be taken to a ship. We have several that will be headed this way in preparation for the attack.” She turned to Em. “We’ll need you to find out what their defenses are on the shoreline near the castle. They have people on watch, and if you can tell us where, we want to put a Ruined on each person. Cloud their minds so they don’t even see the ships coming until it’s too late.”
“I like that plan,” Em said. “I’ll work on it.”
“And if we’re going to partner, we need to know about the Ruined’s weaknesses. We’ve gotten word about a flower called Weakling? Apparently some hunters are carrying it?”
Em and Aren exchanged a look. Weakling, named because it made a Ruined weak (or dead, if exposed long enough), had been a closely guarded secret for generations. The blue flower grew in Ruina, and her mother had taken her and Olivia to a small patch of it once. She still remembered the disappointment in her mother’s eyes when Em stuck her nose between the petals, took a deep breath, and nothing happened. Her mother said Em’s immunity was a strength, but she hadn’t meant it. Her immunity meant she was doomed to be useless forever.
Her mother had spent a lot of time burning every field where the Weakling flower grew, like every king or queen before her. It always grew back, a constant plague that could never be fully erased.
“The hunters say that a Ruined can’t use magic on them if they have the flower on their body,” Iria continued. “Is that true?”
Aren rubbed the back of his neck. “Somewhat. Depends on how powerful the Ruined is. And it may not protect the whole body from someone like me. If you have it on your chest, I may still be able to control your legs.”
“Interesting,” Iria murmured. “And it harms you?”
“It closes the throat, so we can’t breathe. And if it comes in contact with the skin, it can cause the skin to split open at the Ruined marks.” Aren peered at his arms, searching for his Ruined marks. He’d had many, evidence of the impressive power that ran through his veins.
Only charred flesh stared back at him, and he twisted his face into a blank expression.
“Would it still have that effect on you?” Iria asked quietly.
“The marks are still there, you just can’t see them anymore. And more will appear eventually. Hopefully not anytime soon.” His gaze hardened. “But I know the hunters have been testing out Weakling on some of the Ruined, so I suspect you already knew what it did.”