“What if Madelina’s next?” Her face is only an inch away from mine, thick tears streak down her face, but pure anger conceals her expression—cheeks red, eyes narrowed, jaw hardened.
“We won’t let it happen. We cannot let it happen.”
“But how?”
I shake my head, try my best to think of a way out of here, but the pressure’s too great, the urgency chasing us down and quickly.
We sit in silence eye to eye because neither of us knows how.
Imi glances at the door. “Maybe we can—”
I don’t get to hear what we maybe can do or see or try because there’s a loud series of knocks up above followed by at least a hundred pairs of legs all running and marching about in what can only be pure chaos.
“The High Regent must have heard. Stay here,” Imi demands, and then leaves.
Stay here …
As if I’ve got a choice.
CHAPTER 7
NICO
I’M deep in thought, envisioning my way back up to the den by the Crag and working to tear free of my bindings, when I startle to sharp, quick boot steps marching down the tunnel. Water kicks up and splashes the stone with each step.
The steps get closer.
Louder.
I drop my hands from the edge of rock on the wall I was using as a blade to cut through the rope.
Dorian rushes through the doorway of my cave.
He strides straight for me, a single paper clutched in his hand.
My hands are still bound, but oh how I want to punch him. For real this time. Why didn’t he stop the ceremony? Stand up to the Sindaco? Do something to make things right?
I’m about to lay into him, force him to answer all of my questions, when I realize he’s out of breath. Keeps glancing over his shoulder into the tunnel.
“What?” I say.
He doesn’t answer but instead bounds toward me. Instinctively, I squeeze my hands into fists.
Dorian glares and hisses, “I’m here to get you out.” He pauses a beat. “Asshole.” Then he removes his blade.
As I freeze in the shock of what he’s just said, he jerks my fists up, slices through the rope.
“Are you serious?”
He nods. “Come on. Before I change my mind.”
Bewildered, dazed, and convinced I’m dreaming, I move quickly to get up. I stand right behind him.
Dorian leans out the door, looks both ways. Steps into the tunnel, then motions I follow.
I don’t know how long he’s been planning this—if he planned it at all—but we speed through the tunnels of the Lower like he’s got it all decided, knows exactly where he’s going. And I suppose he does.
Dorian glances back as if he’s checking to see if I’m still here. “Pretty much everyone’s in the Crag, waiting for news on the Sindaco.”
“Is he…?”
“Just passed out. When I poured his wine, I slipped a bit—well, a lot—of moonroot in his drink. He’ll be fine though.”
Dorian looks back at me, and I realize my eyes are wide, jaw slightly agape. He did try to stop the Settling.
“It wasn’t meant to hurt him, just stall things. But I was too late.” He pulls the paper from his jacket pocket, hands it over, but I don’t have a chance or enough light to stop and read it.
“What is it?”
“A treaty. Drafted by the Sindaco. I found it last night. He was going to force you to sign it. To officially join the Night as heir of Bellona.”
“And what if I refused?”
He shook his head. “You wouldn’t have, and he knew it.”
“What could he possibly…” I think for a minute. “Veda?”
Dorian shakes his head. “No, just certain death.”
“Oh, that.”
“The document claims the recourse for not accepting the treaty is imprisonment as a spy, possible Settling.” He picks up his pace. “I went along with it, but it’s not right. After seeing that, then thinking on these Settlings, you were right, it’s no different than the Offerings.” We begin a steep ascent. “With Veda’s disappearance, the war kicking off so brutally, the Sindaco’s lost sight of everything. Something had to be done.”
“So you tried to stop the ceremony.”
“Yeah. But I failed. My plan was to cause a scene before the executions but with the cloud delay, the restless crowd, things ended up out of order. Or maybe the Sindaco wanted it that way. Regardless, I drugged him and the Imperi soldiers still died. But you almost got away.” He glances back. “Which is what gave me this idea.” He motions to the cave ahead … our current escape.
“Escaping was my idea,” I say, and Dorian laughs.