I pushed Julienna behind me. Wydrick’s voice had not split yet and there was more green in his eyes than yellow, but that didn’t mean his ghast wasn’t close to the surface. “That’s a lie.”
“You’re a fool thrice over, Aliza Bentaine.”
“That’s not my name.”
“Four times a fool, then! You never deserved his name, and you never will.”
I straightened, and as I did, I caught the faint glimmer of torchlight on steel on the ground near Julienna’s feet. Hope blossomed. Either intentionally or by accident, the guard had left us his sword.
“Maybe not,” I said, “but neither do you.”
He stopped advancing. The shadow dancing behind him took on a human shape again, and green swallowed the last trace of yellow in his eyes. There was a flicker of feeling, so strange and out of place against the hateful sneer of his usual expression. Hurt. The Daired name touched a chord.
“Aye, I know who your father is,” I said. “And given that you’re still alive, I’m guessing your master doesn’t.”
“Don’t,” he growled.
Julienna shifted behind me, the tension in her arm telling me what I needed to do. I forced a smile to my lips and prayed this would work. “If Family Daired falls tonight, Tristan, it falls together,” I said, and ducked.
The blade hummed above me, silenced by a fleshy thud. Wydrick staggered back, the sword buried up to its hilt in his chest. Julienna thrust again, driving him back against the pillar. “That’s for Mar’esh, you bastard,” she spat.
Wydrick sighed.
Quick as a viper he seized Julienna’s wrist and twisted the sword from her grip, tossing her to the ground as if she was made of paper. With his free hand he drew the blade from his chest. Its edge dripped darkness. I rushed to pull Julienna to her feet, but he got there first. I swallowed the gasp at the sudden sting of cold metal as he pressed the point of the sword against my chest, right over my heart.
“You two play a dangerous game,” he said—but still, it was he who spoke, not his ghast. The steel drifted up toward my collar, then hesitated. “Where is it?”
“Where is what?”
He let the tip of the sword fall and yanked me closer. I slapped him hard, my nails gouging deep furrows in his cheek. Shock flamed yellow, then green again as he released me. “The heartstones, fool. Alastair did not have his. Where are they?”
“Far from you.”
Wydrick chuckled and came close again, close enough that I could see the shadows seaming together the gashes on his cheek, so close that his cold lips brushed my ear. “If either of you wish to see Alastair again, bring my master the Daired heartstones,” he whispered. “It is the only bargain you have left.” He tossed the sword aside and shoved me away. “Go. Now!”
I felt his eyes and the dreadful weight of his words follow us as we turned and ran.
Julienna sobbed quietly at my side, her hand locked in a death grip around my arm. Corridor after corridor twisted on into the depths of the palace. There was a cry and flicker of torchlight as we passed one long hallway and we ran faster, skidding on slick marble. My legs burned. My lungs burned. My head was on fire. At the mouth of a darkened alcove, Julienna drew up short.
“Wait!” she panted through her tears. “Aliza, they’ll be—they’ll be guarding the main gate.”
My mind raced to catch up with the rest of me. I looked around. The alcove opened to a pair of stairs, one leading up, one down. Where else could we go? “Kitchens! Where are the kitchens?”
“Lower floors,” she said, and started for the downward stair.
The corridor at the bottom was plain, undressed stone, its floors worn smooth by thousands of shuffling servants’ feet. Doors left ajar showed glimpses of storerooms and pantries. The corridor turned and we nearly collided with a cowering maid. She threw up her arms to shield her face. “No! Don’t hurt me! Don’t hurt me!” the girl squeaked.
“Shh! We won’t hurt you,” I said. “It’s all right.”
She peeked through her fingers, then relaxed. “Oh, thank the gods! Miladies, what’s going on? I heard such yelling and then all them courtiers come pell-mell out of the hall and—”
“Can you show us how to get out of the palace?” I asked.
“Aye, but—”
“Quickly!”
“Right. This way.”
She led us through another series of passages, which opened out into the sprawling complex of the palace kitchens. A handful of servants huddled around the fire, speaking in low tones and looking over their shoulders. One or two held butcher knives. They jumped when we entered, then sighed in relief. A few mouths fell open on seeing Julienna. “Lady Daired?” the eldest said. “What’s going on?”
“The palace is taken,” she said.
“What?”
“The Lord General betrayed us,” I added. “The king and queen consort are dead. You need to get out, all of you. Find the Riders, the Rangers, whatever army regiments are in the city, and tell them what happened. Hurry!”
There was a moment of breathless silence before the kitchen erupted into chaos. Cooks and scullions seized whatever weapons they could lay their hands on and rushed en masse toward the back.
“Miladies?” Our guide plucked at our sleeves and pointed to a small door next to the hearth. “That there leads to the kitchen gardens. You’ve gotta do some climbing to get over the wall, but it’ll get you to the back grounds of the Gray Abbey.”
I seized the girl’s hand in silent gratitude before following her directions out the hearth door. It was little and low and we had to bend almost double to get out. It deposited us into a little stone-roofed enclosure. Bundles of drying herbs brushed our heads as we ducked out into the garden and the cold night air. I drank it in like a woman dying of thirst, desperate to keep the sobs at bay, to not think of what we had left behind.
Moonlight fell brightly through a gap in the clouds, filling the garden with silver shadows. The lights of houses shone reddish on the undersides of the clouds, flickering with the steady heartbeat of a city that had yet to realize it had become a battlefield. Julienna pointed to the far wall. Just beyond rose the solemn edifice of the Abbey.
It took a mad scramble up one flimsy trellis and a few yards of climbing ivy to scale the wall between the two. Sharp twigs and the remains of an old wrought-iron grating tore my skirts and I bloodied my elbow on the edge of the stone, but we at last managed to swing ourselves astride the wall. My heart sank when I saw what waited on the other side. It was a long way to the ground, without even the excuse of a bush to break a fall.
“We’ll have to jump. It won’t— Julienna?” I looked at her, but her eyes were fixed, not on the ground, but on the city. With a grim expression she nodded to the west, and new horror filled my heart as I followed her gaze. It wasn’t the lights of houses coloring the clouds red.
Edonarle was burning.
Chapter 22
Smoke Rises
Hitting the ground hurt more than I expected, and for a minute I lay on the paving stones, fighting to get my breath back. There was a thump and a smattering of Eth curses as Julienna landed hard next to me.