Antonio gazed at him, the corners of his mouth turning up in a sad smile.
“What if they don’t have to be numbered?” said Gideon, breaking the silence.
Everyone turned to look at him.
“What if you could live a full lifeas you are, without repercussions?”
Bart glanced away. “You’re speaking of a fairy tale.”
Rune had to agree.
But Antonio set down his drink and said, “I’m listening.”
That small encouragement was all Gideon needed.
“This island has known tyranny for too long,” he said. “It’s time to try something new. A world where we can all live as equals.”
“You’re being naive,” said Rune.
Gideon turned to look at her. “How so?”
“How are you going to bring this new world into existence? You have no army. No support. Meanwhile, Cressida has taken the capital, and the Blood Guard are regrouping, intending to take it back. Neither side wants a world where people like you and I live as equals. Either Cressida will win, or the Blood Guard will. And if it’s the former, you’ll be killed—or worse.” At the thought of whatworseentailed, she glanced away. “If it’s the Blood Guard, I’ll be killed. Those are the only possible outcomes.”
Which was precisely why Rune intended to get on a train and ride it as far as she could, then pay someone to sail her‚ or just sail herself, away from here.
Gideon was silent for a long time, studying her in the lamplight.
“You’re wrong.”
She frowned up at him.What?
“There’s a third possible outcome.”
He glanced across the table to the only person in the room eating up his words: Antonio.
“Most of us are sick of the options we’ve been handed. We don’t want to go back to being ruled by a corrupt dynasty of witches, but neither are we okay with the Republic’s authoritarian control. Deep down, we’re hungry for something else.” He glanced at Rune. “Those who say they aren’t are too scared to imagine such a world is possible. If they could be convinced, we would stand a chance.”
But Rune remembered the bloodthirsty mob cheering on Nan’s gruesome death. She remembered the witches in the throne room, all too happy to pledge their loyalty to Cressida, knowing full well what her reign would entail.
Rune could no longer think about Cressida without feeling the whip stripping flesh from her back or remembering the smell of her blood in the air. Or that horrifying moment when she realized Cressida wouldn’t stop lashing her until she was dead.
A tide of fear rose in Rune’s throat. Threatening to pull her out to a dark sea and drag her down to its depths.
Rune had known this kind of fear only once before: on the night she and Nan realized they couldn’t escape the new regime and the only way for Rune to survive was to turn her beloved grandmother in.
Rune pushed her chair out and strode from the room, gulping down air. Reminding herself it had been two years, and being turned in was what Kestrel wanted. That she had forgiven herself for the decisions she’d made in the past.
Besides, Cressida was far away. Rune was safe here.
But for how long?
“Rune.”
At the sound of his voice, she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t want him to see her like this: so scared, she couldn’t catch her breath.
Steeling herself, Rune turned to face him.
Gideon had followed her into the hall and stood with his hand planted against the wall, letting it hold him up. His face was haggard in the dim light.
