“Let’s get out of here before something else decides to try to kill us.”
Ryder walks over and cautiously wraps his arms around my waist. I keep my head down as the two of us are smothered by smoke.
It’s been two weeks since we’ve returned from seeing the Divinity Oracle, and neither of us has said a word to one another. Whatever progress we had made in the past couple of months has been completely obliterated. I can see in his eyes that he knows more than he’s letting on. He’s hiding something, I just don’t know what.
More lies. More unanswered questions. Just when I start to feel in control of my life, I find out that I’m no more than a puppet being played with.
Who’s pulling the strings now, though? Ryder? The Mother?
I’ve never felt more lost. I’m nothing like the Elders. They ruled their territories with strength and power. I can barely take care of myself. I’m no leader. I’m no mystical force meant for something bigger. I’m just a girl. A girl whose only goal in life has been to survive.
“Change of plans,” Ryder starts as the rest of us gather around the table. We have less than a week until the attack, and everyone has been a little more on edge because of it.
“Regarding what?” Jace asks, twisting the tip of his knife into the wooden table.
Ryder turns to me, and I already don’t like the way he’s looking at me.
“You’re going to go free Kane and Slader as planned, but after you’re done with that, you’re going to go free the other prisoners in the east dungeons. I don’t want you anywhere near my father.”
My hands slam against the table as I shoot up from my chair. “No! You said I could join the fight in the Throne Room!”
“It’s too much of a risk,” he argues back.
Anger flares in my chest as I storm out the back door, letting it slam behind me.
“You’re too valuable,” Ryder says when he follows me.
I turn on my heel so fast that my braid whips me in the face. “You didn’t think that when you thought I was just some orphan witch! Now that you know I was born from The Mother, I’m too valuable?” The heat in my body rises with my voice.
“That’s not it, Reign. I should’ve never agreed to let you join in on the attack in the first place.”
“Let me? You’re just like him, you know.” I can tell by his pained expression my words cut deep, but I don’t care.
“Let her go,” I hear Artemus tell Ryder as I retreat into the forest.
My fists don’t unclench until I see the turquoise water. This time I don’t bother taking off my clothes. Instead, I leave only my boots behind before immersing myself in the milky lake.
I lean back, allowing myself to float weightlessly on the surface. Slowly, the flame inside my heart begins to settle, and I welcome the peace. I’ve come a long way since almost drowning in the bathtub. Water used to scare me, but now it feels like a break from the chaos. Something about being surrounded by it makes me feel renewed. Like all of my problems wash away, if only for a moment. It’s the perfect escape.
My mind begins to drift from one thing to another before circling back to the reason I’m here. Ryder may think he controls what I do, but he doesn’t. I’m getting into that Throne Room whether he likes it or not, and there’s nothing that’s going to stop me.
“Everyone ready?”
The others nod to Ryder, but I can’t even bring myself to look at him. He must accept my silence as confirmation because a moment later he’s gone.
Once he gets back from taking Artemus to Strellesia, Roman and Jace are next.
“You two be safe now.” Tilly gives me a tight hug before kissing Ramus. His face lights up at her touch, but he doesn’t say anything.
Ryder reappears between us, and I can feel his eyes on me. Luckily, Cylas’ cloak completely conceals me.
“Don’t let her out of your sight.”
Ramus grunts in response before the three of us are encompassed in dark smoke. When we reappear in a dimly lit corridor under the palace mountain, Ryder’s grip on me tightens.
“In and out.” He hands me a vial that I recognize as the one with blue mist. “Use this once you’ve set the last prisoner free.”
I take the vial, and a moment later, it’s just me and Ramus.
