Page 78 of The Heart Trials

“Search him,” Dreth growls.

Mae gasps and cups her face. I stand closer to her.

“No,” I say. “No, that’s not true. Dorian’s not—” But no one hears me as patrons scatter, knocking over tables and teacups to get out of the guards’ way. Caelus cuts me a warning look as another Mercyenforcer grabs Dorian’s coat roughly, rifling through the inner pocket seams, the lining of his sleeves. Dorian looks at me. His eyes widen. His mouth opens to protest, but the pressure at his throat tightens.

“There’s been a mistake,” he manages.

Mistakes don’t matter here. The Mercyenforcers move the interrogation outside. A crowd has gathered near the steps of the tea shop. Talia and Jace loiter nearby. Lira and Kade are here too. Rhythe lurks on the perimeter. Ivy is with him, but she looks just as confused as Mae. Why did Rhythe want me here?

“We received a report of a sighting from several Skyborn in this very shop,” Dreth says, his voice colder now. Then he turns to me. “One of which was from you.”

The world blackens at the edges. I steady myself on the railing.

“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” he presses. “Your note said you’d meet us at noon. That you know Dorian from back home and you had concerns about his loyalty.”

I can’t breathe.

“What’s wrong with her?” Dreth turns to Caelus. “Speak.”

“Axira, tell him the truth,” Caelus says.

Which truth? The truth Dreth expects to hear? The truth Rhythe wants me to say? The actual truth?

“Do you know Dorian from your district?” Dreth asks again.

“I—I do.” My hands sweat. Right now, I can grab Dreth’s trust and the Benevolent’s and get them to stop watching me so closely. But I would have to betray Dorian. I would have to let Mae hurt.

“Do you know him to be a rebel sympathizer?” Dreth presses.

“I—”

“It’s not a hard question.”

“Sir! Look here.” A guard pulls a bright-red ribbon from Dorian’s pocket. The world bleeds of color.

25

Afist plows into Dorian’s face, and I can’t move. Dorian is not a rebel sympathizer. That ribbon was planted on Dorian. Rhythe did it. He must have. And now he’s waiting for me to choose—betray Dorian or betray the alliance. The guard releases Dorian, letting him fall to the ground. Mae crumbles.

“Where did you get this?” Caelus snatches the ribbon, stepping forward.

“Sir, back. It’s not safe.”

Caelus shrugs the guard off, closing the distance between himself and Dorian, squatting over him. Dorian is hunched in a ball, sobbing at his knees, and I war with my choices. Rhythe’s stare burns my skin. But I won’t betray Dorian. I won’t.

“I’ve never known a more honest lowborn,” I tell Dreth. “Look at him. He doesn’t have a brave bone in his body.” Dorian lies there hardly moving, and it pins me with fear. “Someone is playing you. I never wrote a note.”

The truth is freeing and somehow also makes my insides quiver.

Caelus hands the ribbon to Dreth. “Burn it. Immediately. There’s nothing to see here.”

“Sir, he’s—”

“You’ve gotten false information. There are no witnesses.” Caelus turns to the crowd. “Are there? Will anyone step forward with proof this man has shown himself to sympathize with rebels?”

The streets are dead silent.

Kade steps forward. “When I was in the guard, I never trusted the Marshes. Slippery family if you ask me.”