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Nina let out an ear-splitting shriek, then it was nothing but scuffling, yelling, and Kaleb whispering in Alessa’s ear, “This is going smashingly, isn’t it?”
Alessa pulled an ungloved hand from her pocket. A small hand grasped it, and her stomach lurched.
Shouts of dismay echoed through the crypt, calling for someone to re-light the lanterns, but every match struck flared out immediately.
The hand was gone, and silk brushed her arm.
“Doesn’tanyonehave a light?” Alessa said.
A flame burst to life, so bright she had to shield her eyes.
Kamaria, cap pulled down to shade her face, swaggered over, holding out a lantern. “Here, miss,” she said, her voice pitched low. “Mine seems to be working.”
Ivini snatched the lantern before Alessa could.
Ignoring a flurry of indignant gasps, he hurried to the metal gate of Dante’s prison, banging the lantern against the bars in his haste. The same still form lay curled in the back.
Eyes narrowed with suspicion, Ivini lowered the light to study the heavy padlock, intact and untouched.
“Excuse me,” Alessa said.
Grumbling under his breath, Ivini handed it over.
Alessa tugged her companion toward the corridor, where a suspicious number of lanterns had gone out. The hooded cloak shadowed his face, but not enough to disguise the bruises at such a close distance. “What did they do to you? I thought they didn’t have a key.”
Dante spoke through gritted teeth. “Don’t need a key when you can throw rocks.”
Rage burned through her veins, but it had to wait. She’d planned for a quick march through the crowded levels with an alert Dante playing along. Instead, his arm grew heavier around her shoulders, his steps halting, and as they made painstaking progress toward the more crowded levels, every face turning to watch sent a surge of fear through her.
She cast a desperate look over her shoulder at Kamaria and Josef, who were hanging back and trying to blend in with the hundreds of other Saverians milling about.
People would panic if they raced to prop up “Kaleb,” but it would be worse if he fell. Even worse if everyone realized it wasn’t Kaleb at all.
Eventually, they reached the main corridor, and she could make out the Cittadella gate.
“Almost there,” she whispered. “Only a little farther.”
Two figures stepped into their path. Of all the moments.
“Finestra,” her mother said, her hand white-knuckled on Papa’s arm. “I’d appreciate a second of your time.”
Alessa braced her feet to keep Dante upright. “We’re in a bit of a hurry, I’m afraid.”
“Please.” Her voice faltered. “Your brother told us what he did.”
“I don’t have a brother,” Alessa said, her tone flat. “Or a family.” And it still hurt as badly as it had the day she’d left.
“I know you’re angry at me, but I was trying to do as I was told. As the gods wanted me to. Adrick—” She raised a hand to her mouth.
“He should have protected you.” Her father tugged at his short beard. “Not done… what he did.”
Dante stumbled, catching himself as though he’d almost passed out, and it sent a bolt of panic through Alessa. “I’m glad you object to your son trying to kill the Finestra, but I really must go.”
“We object to oursontrying to hurt hissister.” Her mother tugged at a lock of gray-threaded hair come loose from her bun. “I was raised to believe it was my duty to forsake my child if he or she was chosen. But I had a duty to you as well. I knew—” She waved a hand. “I knew he visited, and I never asked. I was afraid of what I’d hear. And now…” She pressed a hand to her mouth, her breath hissing. “I should have asked. I should have come.”
“Did the ghiotte—did he harm you?” Papa asked.
“No,” Alessa said. She didn’t know if Dante was fully aware of her words, but she said them for him, too. “He protected me. Always.”
