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Airlie snorted. “Don’t try to fool me. You’re a wily old man with the strength of ten storms followed by a hurricane.”
He grinned, his deep chuckle sounding briefly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should.” She flashed him a smile, although her eyes were too tense to match the expression.
“I know this is wrong,” he said after a moment, “but I couldn’t tell you what would be the right decision in its place. And the others are all the same. They aren’t bad people. They just feel the same weight I do, the same fear of getting it wrong and watching people suffer as a result. If any of us could figure out an alternative, I’m sure the rest would be easily convinced.”
Airlie nodded. “I keep telling myself they won’t actually go through with it. They’re clearly reluctant to make the final decision. But every day that passes has me more worried.”
She looked at me again, and I tried to pour my pleading desperation into my eyes. I must have succeeded to some extent because she flinched, her gaze falling away.
“It’s all so pointless.” The frustration poured out of her. “Delphine doesn’t have a unique ability. She’s just a healer, even if she’s a strong one. For now, she’s the only one in Tartora who knows how to use this skill, but how long will that remain the case? Now that we know something like this is possible, it’s inevitable someone will come along with both the strength and the motivation to work it out for themselves. Getting rid of Delphine won’t eliminate the threat—it will just ensure we don’t know where the threat is coming from.”
I slid down the bars to sit, suddenly too exhausted to remain upright any longer. Why had I never thought of that? I had been determined not to teach the skill to anyone—determined it would die with me. But Airlie was right. It had been done once, and that meant it would be done again. There would eventually be someone angry enough or greedy enough to seize at the possibility. I had thought I was the only one who could make a wall, but in the end, Grey had proved me wrong on that. Surely the same thing would happen again.
It didn’t matter what the king did to me. He would never be able to eradicate this.
Dimly I heard Airlie leaving, but I didn’t look up. My thoughts had turned inward, the futility of it all sparking a desperation that sent my mind flying, exploring avenues I hadn’t considered before. Avenues I should have seen already.
This new skill existed now, and we couldn’t change that. Others would work out how to do it, as Grey had worked out how to do my skill. But that didn’t mean there was no hope. Quite the opposite—that certainty was my best source of hope.
Joy surged through me as I saw the way to save myself. Despair followed a minute later. Everyone of influence was afraid of getting close to me or even talking to me. The king and Triumvirate weren’t going to allow me to stand before them and defend myself. They would decide my sentence behind closed doors, and there was no need for me to ever get close to them at all. In fact, they would almost certainly avoid me as carefully as if I was a known assassin.
Before I could sink too deeply into my fear, however, a face appeared in front of my mind’s eye. I didn’t know where Nik was right now, but I had no doubt that he would be either searching for me or fighting for me. And if he hadn’t given up, I couldn’t either.
I leaped to my feet, my hands on the bars as I fixed my eyes on the stationary figure in the chair.
“Master Drake!” I shouted the words.
He startled so hard he nearly fell out of his chair. Leaping to his feet, he whirled to face me, his brows knit. It was the first time I had ever called to him.
I didn’t know how many words I would get, so I couldn’t waste them.
“Amara. I need to speak to Amara.”
The crease between his eyes deepened, and he didn’t reply.
I rushed to continue, my words tumbling over each other as I tried to convey my sincerity.
“You said all you needed was a better option in order to convince the others to spare me. Bring Amara here—or if you can’t bring her, bring Princess Airlie back—and I’ll give you a better option, along with a way to keep Tartora safe.”
ChapterTwenty-Four
In the end, Drake summoned both of them. And the conversation that followed lasted for a long time. But at the end of it, Ember and I were swathed in a voluminous cloak and smuggled from the prison block.
Airlie went ahead to clear the path while Drake stayed behind to maintain the illusion I was safely in my cell. Only Amara walked beside me as I finally tasted fresh air and saw the sky again.
It was hard not to turn my face up to the sun, but I kept it down, hiding my identity as she hurried me across the short stretch of open ground and through a side door of the palace.
We were heading straight for the king, but Airlie reappeared before we could reach his reported location.
“You can’t!” she hissed, making us both stop. “Not now. A delegation from the nomad tribes has arrived a day early and King Marius is in the middle of an audience with them. We’ll have to wait until they’ve finished.”
Amara groaned. “What terrible timing! What are we supposed to do now? Should we go back?” She glanced back the way we’d come.
“No,” Airlie and I said at the same time, although I said it with considerably more force. I quickly fell silent, however, letting Airlie speak.
“We can’t risk that. Drake said the others are suspicious of him already. What if they decide to put someone else on guard duty? She’s free now, and there’s no point moving backward. We just have to stash her out of sight until the delegation finish their initial business and retreat to their guest rooms.”
