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We both know we can’t put any of it off any longer, and descend the stairs into the kitchen to find scattered furniture, shattered dishes, and a scarlet stain on the wall where Togar has taken his last breath. His body has vanished, and I don’t care to know what happened to it.
Valdus tinkers with the stove and scours the cupboard for anything that could serve as food while I scramble to clear away broken furniture and cracked dishes. Shards dig into my palms, staining the ceramic with blood, but I don’t stop for a second, healing the wounds as I go.
Deep down, I know this place will never feel safe again. It’ll never feel like home. But for now, this is the only thing I can do to keep moving.
I’ve cleaned enough space to put the table back up when Numair shows up at the door. Valdus doesn’t voice the question, but Numair speaks anyway. “The train left an hour ago. They’ve taken Damen, Inara, and even your tree with them.”
I clutch the chair in my hands as I set it down, unsure of how much more pain I’ll be able to live through before I break.
“What will happen now?” I ask in a rusty voice.
“The Wraiths have left,” Numair says. “Rev might linger for a while, but if we don’t do anything stupid, he’ll abandon his search for you, too.”
“Who cares about what happens to me?” I say, thumping the chair down.
Valdus throws the skillet down on the stove. Vegetables fly over the edge to land on the fire with a sizzle. He turns to me, his nostrils flaring. “Sands,” he says in a low grumble, but he might as well have shouted for the way it echoes through the room. “I do.”
Numair clears his throat. “I do too.”
Kyle appears through the door, leaning heavily on his cane. He drops a bundle on the table and fresh apples roll all the way across. “I overheard your little discussion here, and I never thought I would say this to anyone from the House of Our Sun and Light,” he says. “But I do too. Everyone in the rebellion does.”
“I’ve only brought pain and suffering.”
“Your father did,” Numair says, straightening another chair and taking a seat. “You, on the other hand…you’ve brought hope.”
I slide down into a chair, clutching my head in my hands just as Izod appears with Zaria dozing in his arms.
“I’ve heard what happened,” he says, setting Zaria down. “How can I help?”
Valdus passes him the dishes with servings of the steaming hot breakfast he prepared, but when Priya walks into the kitchen followed soon after by Lev, Joao and even Mylena, it’s clear we won’t be eating. As more rebels filter through and utter words of comfort and offers of help, I wonder if we could take the fight to my father or if we’ve all lost faith in the next dawn and the words are just an echo of blazing hope that we once embraced.
“What if we go to the palace and bring them back?” I hear myself ask. The room falls into a stunned silence and everyone turns to look at me, but this time I don’t allow the blush creeping up my cheeks to back me up into a corner. I straighten my shoulders and push myself up to my feet. “Magnar’s power comes from the fear he instills in the people of this desert, but if we break Inara and Damen back out, we’d revive the hope of every person in the empire of a better desert.”
Kyle runs his fingers through his beard, gazing into the space ahead of him. “We’d never even come close to the palace. The emperor’s guards will shoot us down.”
“The palace is an impenetrable fortress,” Numair echoes, pouring himself a glass of liquor.
“A covert mission, then?” I ask. Numair gulps his drink, offering me a toothy grin. That’s all the encouragement I need to venture further. “You can take a few men through the walls with your binding, and we’ll find our way to the dungeons.”
“That’s about as reckless as I like to do things.” Numair cracks the knuckles of his healthy hand. “But it ain’t me in need of convincing.”
With his back to everyone, leaning on the counter, Valdus is living through his own kind of storm. We wait for him to answer, but he doesn’t. Just like that, everyone is ready to ditch this silly plan concocted by a princess who has yet to taste all the torments of the desert.
I might be just another soldier of the rebellion, but I won’t let anything—short of Evanae’s coming herself—stop me. Not anymore.
I climb to my feet, making my way through the throng of people. Valdus’s eyes are closed, his face an impenetrable mask as if not a single word of our discussion has reached him. As if he wasn’t even here. Yet when I clutch his hand and his thumb runs over my skin, I know he’s been paying very close attention.
“What you propose is dangerous.”
“Why should dangerous stop us?” I murmur as if we were alone in the whole desert instead of within earshot of every rebel. They all perked up to hear every word coming out of our lips. “Damen, Inara…They’re part of this family we call a rebellion, but are we really a family if we’re ready to leave even one of ours behind?”
When Valdus opens his eyes to look at me, I can see the storm of sand and anger finally burning inside. “Let’s hit the palace, then.”
We’ve decided to wait for a week, to let the soldiers drop their guard down, and it has paid off. Numair brought news this morning that Rev has left The Broken Sands.
We’ve amassed what resources we’d need for the trip, and even if Valdus voiced his concern about it a hundred times, I’m coming. I’m the only one who can guide the rebels through the palace. I’ve carefully omitted the number of times the guards caught me wandering through its halls, but I had no choice. Any imperfection in the plan, and Valdus would cancel the whole thing altogether.
As I step into the kitchen, I drop the holster on the table and rip the scarf off my head, throwing it on the counter in a crumpled ball. We’re leaving tomorrow, and yet I haven’t managed to take a straight shot in the past six days. Missing five out of six is my personal best.
