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It was stupid to ask. He knew what it meant.

“The Folke set up a trap by the market and cornered him. They tossed him into the East Gate prison yesterday, Kai. He’s gone.”

Kai’s fingers tightened around the bread. Saturn had never learned how to fight like the other priests. As the High Priest, he wouldn’t survive a day in prison against men who hated Adriels.

“Are we all that’s left then? Have you heard from anyone else who might be hiding around the city?” he asked.

Theo shook his head, his mouth tipping down at the corners, and Kai shoved the bread toward him, wishing he’d never asked. Theo took it, ripped a piece off and ate, devouring nearly half before handing the rest to the other priests. Kai didn’t blame him—it had been a while since they’d eaten anything but sour raw sumac.

Thunder boomed over the bridge, muting all other sounds for a split second as Kai went to the others and dropped down to sit. Four priests. That was all that was left of the Adriel Priesthood, and they no longer had a safe temple to return to. Not even their allies in other parts of Per-Siana would take them in now; they were all suffering persecution of their own. And now the city priests were without an official leader. Kai rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his hood.

“Kai… I also thought you’d want to know.” Theo sat down across from him, his throat bobbing as a fat raindrop unclasped from his hair and ran down his cheek. “The Mother City prison was just drafted into the war.”

Kai’s hand dropped, a prickling sensation falling through his stomach. “What? When?!”

Theo looked to the ground. “They already left. She’s gone too, Kai.”

She.

Ryn.

Kai’s thoughts of his cousin came and went with the days, but… it wasn’t enough. He hadn’t thought about Ryn enough. She was just a child when he’d found her on the streets. She was his responsibility, and now she was… gone?

He cursed his own hands for ever letting her be ripped out of them.

Theo glanced at the other two priests finishing off the last of the bread. Kai had walked across the whole city for that bread, and it was gone in a matter of seconds. “You know we can’t go on like this forever. Everyone’s sick,” Theo said.

The river water rose slowly with the rainfall. Kai wondered if they’d get flooded out from beneath their bridge overnight. He watched Theo steal a look toward the empty hill where Kai originally came from.

Kai leaned his head against the wall, imagining drowning in his sleep. Thinking about how his fellow priests were continuously catching colds from being out on the streets. Wondering if it was all worth it. He’d fought hard for so long, he hardly remembered what it felt like to rest. To take a break, to give up.

The truth was, he wasn’t sure what he was fighting for anymore.

Theo sniffed, bringing Kai’s attention to the well of tears in his eyes. His hands trembled too, and it didn’t appear to be from the cold. A strange feeling sank into Kai’s chest as it occurred to him he’d never seen this look on Theo’s face before.

Terror.

“What’s going on? Theo…” Kai rolled to his knees and put a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

Theo’s throat bobbed. “I’m sorry, Kai,” he rasped. “But we’re starving out here. At least there’s food in prison.”

“What?” Kai looked back and forth between Theo’s watery brown eyes. A second later, he sprang to his feet, his hand sliding off Theo’s shoulder. He stepped back, nearly slamming against the wall. “Theo… what did you do?”

Theo slapped a hand over his mouth, a tear breaking free and landing on his fingers. “I’m sorry. You’re the only one who’ll be executed if we’re caught, but the rest of us… We’re hungry. We’re ill from the cold. We need to go to prison.”

Flutters burst through Kai’s chest, and he pushed off the wall, dragging his heels backward toward the hill. Noises erupted on the bridge above, the distinct sounds of swords being drawn, the shouts of Folke.

“Theo…” Kai whispered. “You’ve sentenced me to death…”

Theo crumbled to his knees and clasped his hands together. “I’m sorry, Kai! Run before they get you! Get out of here!” He was shouting it now, begging, sobbing.

Kai nearly tripped over his own feet as he scrambled, his gaze firing up to the bridge where the King’s guards in blue and silver came around the sides and descended the slope. His heart thudded through the realization that running now meant leaving his friends behind, and his hand flew to the hilt of his dagger.

He could fight. Maybe he could save the priests. There were only a dozen Folke, and there were four priests. They stood a chance.

No—not if the priests didn’t want to fight anymore.

The weight of it slid all the way down Kai’s abdomen and settled in the pit of his stomach.