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She must have gripped him harder. We watch, our feet rooted to the floor as they walk back down the corridor. It’s a slow trek down, down, down. Just before they disappear out of sight, the imposter gives Skiro a shove in our direction and runs.
“After her!” Petrik yells, now that Skiro is free.
The guards are already moving; a few break free to surround the prince while the rest race after the girl.
Temra, Petrik, and I reach Skiro.
“Are you hurt?” Petrik asks.
“Only my pride,” Skiro says in return.
“She wasn’t here to assassinate you,” Temra observes. “She had plenty of time to kill you otherwise.”
“What did you talk about?” Petrik asks.
Skiro finishes righting his robes and waves off the guards, who give him some space but keep their eyes peeled for other intruders.
“I was wooing her,” Skiro groans. “I’ve always had a thing for tall women. You know that.”
I feel my face heat up and turn my gaze to the ground.
“But what did you say? Did she ask you anything?” Petrik wants to know.
Skiro lets out a groan. “I thought she was the smithy. She wanted to know how many men to make weapons for, wanted to know what fortifications we already had in place so she could expand on them with her magic. Whoever sent her wanted to learn about our defenses.”
“It was Ravis,” I say, looking up. “Kellyn and I saw his army on the road behind us. He must have sent spies ahead.”
That gets Skiro’s attention. “Ravis is marching an army here? How far behind you was he?”
“I couldn’t say. We didn’t take the road, but not more than three to four weeks, surely.”
“Less than a month.” Skiro swallows audibly. He steps away until his back hits the wall for support. “We don’t have an army here. There are city guards. Castle guards. A handful of men and women.”
We all fall silent, and Skiro’s personal guard fidgets at the news.
I see the moment Skiro realizes he probably shouldn’t have said those thoughts aloud. The last thing he needs is rumors to spread before he can take the time to process the situation. He stands up straight. “But that’s for us to work out tomorrow. One problem at a time. Let’s deal with these imposters first.”
After a few minutes, a guard comes jogging down the hallway. He bows to his prince before brandishing something. “There’s no sign of her, sire, but we found this.”
I recognize it instantly. It’s the same kind of mask Kellyn pulled off the guard in Lisady’s Capital, the one who wore his face. A variety of blues stitched in a scale from light to dark. The mask of my own face. I know that whoever puts it on will instantly look like me.
“There was another,” Petrik says. “Find the mercenary and arrest him. The real Kellyn is in the hospital.”
As before, I’m forced to wash up before they’ll allow me in the infirmary to check up on Kellyn. Temra offers to take me up to her room, where we can have a bath brought in, but Petrik steps in front of me.
“Ziva, a word in private, please?” he asks.
“Not a chance,” Temra says in return, one hand coming to rest on her hip. “You’re not having any private conversations. You’re keeping something from me.”
“Ziva, please—” he tries again.
Temra cuts him off. “I need to know what happened. Why were you in Ravis’s Territory, and how is it that Kellyn got shot?”
I try to remember the conversation earlier. I was panicked about Kellyn’s injuries and the realization that there were imposters around us. I can’t remember much else.
And what is Petrik’s game? Why did he lie to my sister?
“When we arrived in Skiro’s Capital,” I say, “Serutha wasn’t here. She’d been kidnapped by Ravis.”
