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SI VIVIS, TU PUGNAS.
I cast a quick glance over my shoulder and, seeing that the others hadn’t noticed me falling behind, plunged through the opening into the welcoming shadows.
The alleyway had been mostly protected from the destruction by a sidewall that had tipped, unbroken, against the building beside it, leaving a triangular hole just tall enough to walk beneath, while other debris collected over the top. It was dank and dusty, as well as darker than I expected at this time of day, and the tightness of the space had my breath quickening and my heart beating faster. With each step, I tried to ground myself, inching with my back along the perpendicular wall to give me the most airspace possible, letting myself feel the solidness of it behind me and under my hands and concentrating on the feel of the ground beneath my feet, while breathing as steadily as I could. One, in. Two, out. Three, in. Four, out . . .
I could hear movement ahead of and behind me, but I couldn’t be sure if it was real or just my swimming mind playing tricks on me.
It wasn’t until I tumbled out into a patch of light at the end of the triangular passage and immediately felt someone grab me and put a knife to my neck that I realized the sounds hadn’t been in my imagination.
Seconds later, Kellan flew out of the opening, his sword raised, ready to fight.
My attacker pulled his hood back. “Kellan?” His grip on me relaxed just a little. “Aurelia?”
Zan’s cheek was barely brushing mine, but, knowing what I now knew, I felt it was already too much. My knees began to wobble; the effects of his draw on my vitality were immediate.
“Let her go, Zan,” Kellan said dangerously. “Right. Now.”
Zan put his hands up and then carefully put his knife down. “I didn’t know it was her. I mean her no harm.”
Kellan scoffed, “Not true.”
“Stop, Kellan,” I said, trying to keep my feet under me and longing to put my head between my knees. “He doesn’t know.”
“Did you know he was going to be here?” Kellan asked me accusingly.
“No!” I said honestly. At our last encounter, I’d died mid-embrace and then fled without a goodbye. If I had known he’d be here, I would not have come.
Still, finding him felt like a gift. A drop of cold water on a parched tongue.
“Stars save me.” Kellan sheathed his sword, but his anger was still bright and sharp and on full display. “I don’t particularly want to die because you two can’t stay away from each other.”
“I hat
e to interrupt this little argument,” Zan said tightly, “but I, for one, would love to know what in all the bleeding stars you’re talking about.”
Kellan glared at him down his nose.
“We can start with your uncle,” he said. “Simon’s dead.”
“What—?” Zan gave a start. I could have smacked Kellan. Simon was the closest thing Zan had ever had to a father. The only family he had left.
Coldly, Kellan added, “You killed him.”
* * *
The castle library was where Zan had made his encampment. The bookshelves had fallen one after the other and now leaned in a diagonally angled stack like dominoes, books spilling out below. But otherwise, there was little wrong with the room. The fire that had wreaked havoc on the roof and upper levels of the structure must have been doused by the torrential rain before it could make it this deep into the castle, while the floods that had come up from the fjord below had receded before reaching the higher levels. The checkerboard tiles still gleamed, and the crystal stars of the celestial chandelier were still suspended from the ceiling, as impervious to the devastation below as the actual heavens to the earth. Even the windows were mostly intact; with two battlements jutting forward on either side, they had been protected from the wind that had circled right past, leaving minimal damage. It was like finding a lost treasure in the heart of a shipwreck.
A massive ornamental fireplace presided over the room, and Zan had a fire in the grate.
“If someone was watching,” Onal said, “would that not alert them to your location?”
“Some of the ruins still smolder,” Zan replied from over his shoulder. “No one would notice another little bit of smoke.” He shrugged. “Besides, nobody knows the ways in and out of this castle better than I do. Even if they knew I was here, they’d have a hard time reaching me.”
“But your drawings,” I said, staying carefully away. “The horseman. And the saying. Si vivis, tu pugnas. Aren’t they meant to help people find you?”
“They find me in the places I designate,” he said. “That I control. The only other person who knows of this is Nathaniel. It’s where we were supposed to meet if ever our plans went south.”
“But he’s not here?” I asked.
