She just had to let Rhusana gloat and preen and burn out her strength on the camp. Then Jas and Tavin could do something clever to buy Fie time, and she’d get her teeth, and they’d save her band, and—and—
There was still a way out.
There had to be.
Rhusana was laughing. “We don’t have to do thingsmyway. I told you I was here to make a deal. I want to arrive in Dumosa tomorrow with Prince Jasimir at my side, and I want us to be coronated together as King and Queen of Sabor, to give the traditionalists the descendant of Ambra they want. Rhusomir will be our heir, and your brother will be kept as a very comfortable hostage, to guarantee the master-general’s obedience. You’ll be of your own independent mind, free of my influence. We’ll rule a united Sabor.” She extended a hand to Jasimir, then realized his hands were still bound and brushed a lock of hair from his temple. “You’ll be able to come home.”
Jasimir spat in her face.
“You may be willing to sell the Crows for your throne,” he said, cold and dark and sharp as obsidian. “I won’t fail my people. I’d rather die than rule with you.”
Something serpentine flickered in Rhusana’s pale, silvery eyes. She carefully, gracefully wiped the spittle off her face with a silken sleeve, but Fie saw how her hands shook.
A horribly serene smile flexed across her face. “When I said ‘Prince Jasimir,’ I didn’t mean just you.”
She slipped a hand under Tavin’s chin and tilted it up.
“Tell me,” she murmured, “haven’t you wanted to be a king?”
“Tavin, you can’t.” Jasimir’s voice rose. Tavin tried to twist out of her grip, but she tightened her fingers on his jaw.
“You’re the eldest. You’re the son of a Hawk and a Phoenix, just like your brother. So why doesheget the crown and you get to pay for it?” She looked pointedly at the burn scar tangled around Tavin’s hand, the mark King Surimir had left on him. “Why shouldyousuffer for the king’s choices?”
Fie ground her teeth, scouring the tent for any scrap of an opportunity she could use while Rhusana’s focus was on Tavin. The queen could offer Tavin a hundred thrones, and he’d spurn them all.
Sure enough, Tavin gritted out, “You have nothing to offer me.”
“Don’t I?” Rhusana tilted her head. “You’ve already spent so much of your life pretending.” Tavin swallowed. “Pretending you had the power to do what you want… the power to protect what you care for. Don’t you want the real thing?”
The prince’s voice shook. “Don’t—don’t give up on me, Tav.”
Rhusana leaned down to whisper in Tavin’s ear. The only word Fie caught wascrown.Then the queen straightened, flicking her hair over her shoulder with a shattered screech of chimes. Tavin looked nauseous.
Beyond that, though—a flicker of hunger.
A thick, sickening hush curdled over the tent.
Tavin’s eyes landed on Fie, and for the second time that night, her blood ran cold.
She knew that look. She’d seen it on a bridge over a dust-choked canyon, screams all around them, moons ago.
I willneverlet anything happen to you.
Tavin turned from her.
“No—” His voice broke, and her heart leapt with a terrible, vain hope that he wouldn’t, hewouldn’tdo this to her, not for any price, not even for a crown.
That hope crumpled when he continued, “No… harm comes to Fie.”
It felt like the moment he’d cut the ropes of the bridge, stone cold and irreparable. But this time, only Tavin stood on solid ground. This time, she and Jasimir were falling into the jaws of their foes.
“Youcan’t!” she shrieked as Jasimir thundered, “She will damn Sabor!”
“That’s quite enough of that.” Rhusana snapped her fingers. The butt of a spear slammed into the side of Jasimir’s jaw. He dropped, eyes shuttering.
“She’ll get us all killed,” Fie screamed. “Me, Wretch, Madcap, Pa. You can’t—you can’t—”
“I’m saving what I can.” Tavin stared at the ground. “And putting a better king on the throne.”
