Page 147 of Storm of Ink and Blood

The royal family perched on the balcony overlooking the square, including Miraan, who stood at the railing, seeking them out in the crowd. The execution wasn’t only a message to the citizens of Gi’ana—Dishani also hoped it would draw Zarya into her clutches.

“So I’m waiting to give the signal until after the prisoners come out?” she confirmed with Rabin.

Yasen stood nearby, also with this hood up and his gaze fixed on Miraan. They’d briefly debated about Miraan returning to the palace, but the prince had argued it would be suspicious if he weren’t present for such an important occasion. Plus he could help control things from the inside. Apsara and Suvanna also waited on the balcony for similar reasons while maintaining a careful distance from the prince.

“Yes,” Rabin answered in a low voice. “I want everyone accounted for. It will be easier to get them to safety if they’re already free of the dungeons.”

“Right,” she said.

“Let’s move closer to the front,” he urged, pressing on her lower back. He gestured to Yasen with his chin, who nodded before he followed. They eased their way through the crowd, which buzzed with nervous energy. Many of them didn’t know how to behave, burdened with the secrets weighing on their consciousness. She hoped the royals wouldn’t notice anything amiss.

They pushed their way almost to the edge, noting several Jadugara standing on the platform, staring over the square while dozens more stalked through the crowd, glaring at everyone leaping out of their way.

A boom of thunder echoed overhead just as the first drops of rain began to fall. She exchanged a worried glance with Rabin as they closed in. The plan was to rescue the prisoners, and when they were done, thousands of vanshaj would reveal their magic and their freedom before storming the palace, flooding the entrances, and overwhelming the guards. They’d lose access to their magic as soon as they passed into the halls, but that’s exactly why Rabin had insisted on weapons training for everyone.

“Get up there,” Rabin said, noting a small outcropping in the perimeter wall where she could stand above the crowd and send up the signal with a burst of fire in the sky.

The rain was starting to fall heavier, and the crowd appeared to grow increasingly nervous. Zarya hoped they’d bring the prisoners out soon. It felt like they were inside a balloon expanding with pressure, on the verge of exploding.

Her breath hitched with nervous apprehension when the door on the far side of the plaza slid open. Several soldiers emerged, leading a line of prisoners, each of them cuffed in iron around their wrists and ankles. Zarya recognized Vikas’s parents looking thin and frail, and she shot a look at Dishani, wondering how she could be so cruel.

As the rain fell harder, the soldiers directed the prisoners up to the platform, their chains dragging over the wood as they were roughly arranged across its length. They began dropping nooses around the trembling prisoners’ shoulders. Some looked at their feet while others searched the plaza, probably seeking out one last glimpse of their loved ones in the crowd.

Dishani watched it all without emotion, her face blank. Miraan stood next to her, his hands behind his back, playing the role of dutiful brother. A moment later, the Madan siblings looked to the crowd, their brows furrowing.

Zarya stretched up, trying to see what had caught their attention.

“What’s going on?” Zarya whispered to Rabin as he shook his head.

“A commotion of some kind.” He angled his body as if prepared to throw himself into the middle of whatever was happening.

And then Zarya heard the most devastating words she could have imagined. The one thing she hoped they’d get away with.

“His marking!” a Jadugara shouted, pointing to a young man who was covering his throat as if that might hide the damning evidence of what they’d all done. “It’s been tampered with!”

A pause seemed to roll through the crowd as his voice rang out over their heads like a death knell. Zarya went still, frozen in shock, before the tension snapped, and the crowd swelled and shoved, growing louder to the sounds of screaming and shouting.

The Jadugara were already circling, seizing vanshaj at will.

“The signal!” Rabin called. “Zarya! Now!”

She looked at him. This wasn’t at all what they’d planned, but she trusted he knew what he was doing. Nodding, she lifted a hand, shooting a column of fire towards the sky before it exploded into a shower of rainbow sparks.

She watched in horror as the crowd grew even more agitated, the taste of panic bubbling into the air. They’d lost control. She looked for Rabin, but he was no longer standing next to her. They’d been separated in the frenzy. A moment later, she spotted him wrestling against a crush of bodies, trying to get back to her.

Zarya dropped from her perch, shoved through the masses, and attempted to reach him, but he only seemed to be moving further away.

“Rabin!” she screamed as she was elbowed in the stomach and heaved into an unforgiving wall of bodies. Recovering, she continued fighting within a tangled mess of limbs. Screams pierced her ears, and she had no idea how they’d ever regain order or get their plans back on track.

A second later, she was seized by both arms and lifted off her feet by two massive royal soldiers. More of them surrounded her and were closing in.

“No!” she screamed, fighting and kicking, attempting to wrench from their hold.

“Rabin!” she screamed again as she reached for her magic, but it was already too late.

Something hard hit her on the back of the head before she went limp, and everything went black.

Rabin fought against the tide. Everything had gone to shit. The Jadugara were striking everyone down without mercy, magic flying in every direction. The vanshaj forgot every bit of their mediocre training in their panic. He’d known this was likely. It was nearly impossible to expect civilians without any battle training to keep it together when things went sideways.