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Chapter 23
We chase Izamal through passages studded with torn serpent scales. The Queen’s curse thrums under my skin like a warning.
Every now and then, we catch a glimpse of Izamal; sometimes he’s all beast, sometimes he’s a feral meld of monster and man. But he’s never all human.
The way slopes ever more steeply downward. The dark presses in on us, squeezing Casvian’s ikonlight down till it glows as small and dim as a single blue firefly. The air grows blistering and humid, becoming thick with the smell of smoke and decay. Each half-blind step takes us deeper into the unknown. My courage only takes me so far, and after a while my hope dies too, until all that’s keeping me going is bullheaded pride. I haven’t come this far to give up now.
Casvian never hesitates. I didn’t expect him to: Dalca is Casvian’s liege lord and north star. Burn away all his impurities, and the purest, simplest form of Casvian would be his crystallized loyalty to Dalca. What keeps him putting one foot in front of the other as the way grows grimmer is love for his chosen brother.
The Queen’s curse hums inside me. It throbs under every heartbeat, and it courses through my veins with my blood. But what is it?
“Why would he turn into a beast?” Casvian interrupts my thoughts.
I’m cautiously glad that Casvian still thinks of Izamal as more than something to be hunted. “Maybe that’s the only way he felt he could have the power to make a difference.”
“That’s absurd.”
I bite my tongue, force my anger back.
“I mean, he has power. He’s Wardana.”
“Wardana enough to sacrifice himself, sure. But not enough for you and Dalca to let him in. He’s your token fifth-ringer. Don’t you think he knows where he stands?”
“We let him in. He helped us capture your father, if you recall.”
“You didn’t tell Iz where you kept my father, or even why you wanted him.”
“Well, obviously. That was delicate information.”
“You never trusted him.”
Cas runs his hands through his hair. “With all this, it seems I’ve got good reason, doesn’t it?”
“He fought beside you for years. He walked into the Storm with you. All he wants is to save the fifth-ringers—to help the people who most need it. What more would it take for him to earn your trust?”
Something dark flickers across Cas’s eyes. A wisp of the Storm. “He knew who you were when he helped you, didn’t he?”
I hesitate, not wanting to get Izamal in worse trouble, but it’s answer enough.
Cas laughs low. “You’re asking me to trust someone who lied to me.”
“If you’d trusted him, maybe he never would’ve had to lie.”
“You can’t know that.”
I don’t answer. The path in front of us grows clear as the haze begins to lift.
Cas’s voice comes softly from beside me. “For what it’s worth. I... if you’re right, and maybe you are... I’d be sorry. Because... I’ve always admired him.”
I glance up at him, surprised. He tilts his head, giving me a sad, crooked smile.
We make our way through the tunnels, and I consider him. I don’t know if I’ll ever truly forgive the man who threw my plants on the floor—but I’m also getting the feeling that Cas might be changing into a different man, one I might not hate. Or maybe it’s me who’s changing. I don’t know if I like that.
Casvian halts, throwing an arm out.
Izamal stands silhouetted where the tunnel ends, a man drawn in black against a red landscape. His golden eyes reflect the glint of Casvian’s ikonlight before he turns and leaps, dropping out of view.
“Izamal!” I shout, sprinting and skidding to a stop at the edge of the tunnel. I brace against a blast of heat.
