nowhere else to go, the sound of someone approaching echoes against the stones.
“There has to be a way out,” I say. “I saw it. Dez once came here and—”
“And he never escaped.” Margo takes out her stolen knives. “It’s too late. We fight our way out.”
A figure appears at the bottom of the stairwell. We’re stuck. Then I realize who it is. “Margo, don’t!”
Leo pulls his hood back, his green eyes catlike in the torchlight. His familiar smile is a welcome sight as he says, “Anywhere but the face.”
“You,” Margo says, lowering her stolen knife. She notices the cape, same as the one we saw earlier. “You brought us the food.”
“I did secure—” he begins to say, but stops as I throw my arms around his neck. He stumbles back, caught off guard, though I’m just as surprised as he is. It was an instinctive reaction, one I had been waiting a lifetime to give. He tries to chuckle, like this is just another ordinary day in the palace and we’re getting ready for supper or to spend the day with the lavanderas, but it isn’t. It will never be again.
“I was worried about you,” I whisper.
His hands soften against my back, then we let go. “So was I. The entire palace has gathered its attention on the safety of the prince. The king thinks Méndez is handling you, but that won’t last long.” His gaze shifts to take in the state of the justice. A question lights up his eyes. I expect him to shrink away from me. I expect disgust. Instead, I see understanding.
“Well, it seems you’ve been busy,” he says. “I had planned to sneak you out the servants’ exit, but it would be risky.” He takes Méndez by the arm. “Without a justice.”
Margo grabs Leo before he can lead Méndez down a corridor.
“While I want to thank you for everything you’ve done,” Margo says, “I don’t know if I can trust you.”
“I can explain now and let ourselves be caught, or we can walk, but we can’t do both,” Leo says, glancing over his shoulder.
“I trust him,” I say. “We can argue later, Margo.”
Leo turns on the heel of his polished boot and leads the way. He grabs a few sets of shackles, rusted and thick, and hands them to each of us. Esteban balks at the idea of being at the complete mercy of Leo, and I understand his concern, but we don’t have time to debate. I snap the shackles onto my wrists, trusting Leo with our lives.
Prisoners who are awake shout as we parade before their cells.
“We should free them,” I say. Davida’s face comes to mind. Good heart. Protect us all. “I have Méndez’s master key.”
“You can choose to save them,” Leo says. “But you’ll be sacrificing your own freedom.”
I hesitate. Then, with shame, I nod and follow Leo away from the other prisoners, vowing to come back, with greater numbers. In time.
When we reach the exit of the dungeon, we’re spat out into the courtyard. My back stiffens as I see guards posted along the perimeter, more than I’m used to. With Leo and Méndez in the lead, no one questions us. Though, if anyone looked closely, they’d see the vacant expression in Méndez’s eyes and the tight grip that Leo has on his arm as he leads him down the hall.
Instead of heading toward the front gate, Leo loops around to the side, as if going to the gardens in the back. We stop at a thick metal door, so rusted I wonder if it will even open.
“Once you’re outside the walls, go down the path for half a mile. It leads to the fish market,” he says.
“My trust only extends as far as I can see, and I cannot see beyond this door,” Margo remarks.
I open my mouth to defend him. He’s had more than enough opportunities to report me, but Leo nods at her, shutting me up, then looks at me.
“I lied to you, Lady Ren. When we met, I told you I was a stage actor, but there was more.”
We have to go. I know we do. But I need to hear this from him. “Tell me.”
“I’m from Citadela Zahara. I was with the Bandolino Company, traveling the kingdom. My husband was a Persuári. After he was killed I stopped performing and found employ with Lady Nuria. When her marriage to the prince was canceled, I was reassigned to Justice Méndez. I saw an opportunity to get