When I close my eyes, I see my Robári hands, and Justice Méndez wrapping them in gauze. It was never a father’s touch. His gentle hands were moved by the fear of someone who had too much to lose.
One by one, the surviving Whispers file into the abandoned house. Because all the elders but Filipa are dead, she’s appointed Margo, Sayida, and a Persuári named Tomás as the highest-ranking members of the Whispers. Everyone has a task—to arrange beds, to make food, to prepare weapons, to be ready to leave as soon as we are able.
Sayida and Tomás haven’t returned from their task to trade the rubies for passage on a ship. I shut the door to a washroom and clean my face. Everything hurts in a way I didn’t think possible. I strip off my clothes and clean myself, re-dress my wounds. Lady Nuria’s lovely gift is ruined, but I salvage as much of the platinum wire and stars as I can. I braid a few strands into two bracelets, then spool the rest and tuck it into a small leather pouch I strap to my belt. When that’s done, I braid my hair in a plain plait down my back. What would Leo say if he saw me putting on riding trousers and a rough-spun tunic with holes in it? At least it’s clean?
I’m scooping more water in my hands, trying to get the muck out from under my nails, when my ears ring, making way for a memory to barrel into me. Méndez’s voice is clear as a bell. The slippery memory of him staring at the sea solidifies, ready to be seen.
Justice Méndez reaches the top of the tower, breathing in the salty air as he waits for the guards to open the door. He rushes inside, anxious to test out his new toy.
A frail man, skin the color of ash, rocks back and forth in the corner of the cell. Dull glowing veins stretch down his face, his torso.
“Cebrián, come here,” Justice Méndez orders.
The man won’t respond. Justice Méndez expected as much. “Bring her in.”
Lucia is dragged in, gagged and fighting tooth and nail as they shove her into the cell.
Justice Méndez tries again. “Cebrián, I brought you a gift. She is the first to heal.”
Cebrián stops rocking, but doesn’t acknowledge the people in the room. Justice Méndez closes the distance to the girl, removing the gag from her mouth.
She shakes in the cold room and asks, “What did you do to me?”
“Use your magics. Look into my mind. If you can tell me what I plan, then I’ll let you go.”
Lucia eyes the room between each sharp breath. Justice Méndez extends his hand, his thin fingers like a fallen autumn branch. “If you choose not to, you’ll remain a prisoner of Soledad until the day you die.”
He watches Lucia weigh her options, clearly knowing this is a trick. He keeps his expression neutral, not wanting to scare her off yet.
She grabs his hand and closes her eyes. He feels the probing of her foul magics.
Cebrián’s head pops up. Silver eyes and a terrifying smile spreading across his face.
Lucia gasps, jumping back, and drops Méndez’s hand. “You can’t! You have to let me go!”
He steps back, as do the guards. “A promise is a promise.”
Lucia runs to the door, but Cebrián beats her there, his speed and agility inhuman. Before she can utter a scream he is upon her, hands tight around her neck. Her body convulses, color draining by the second. Her skin turns nearly translucent. New veins, pulsing with a faint glow, begin to appear, tracing a path up her arms, her legs. . . .
Justice Méndez is thrilled at the progress.
The door to the cell bursts open. “Stop this.”
Justice Méndez turns to face the intruder. Spoiled, wretched prince.
Prince Castian. His eyes are wild. He points a finger at Méndez. “I am ordering you to stop this immediately.”
Justice Méndez burns with irritation at the prince, who remains a constant thorn in his side. Turning slowly, unhurried, he waves a hand at his creation.
“That’s enough, Cebrián, you’ll drain her dry. Remember, you can’t control magic that isn’t there. I won’t have repeats of the others.”
Castian crosses the room to Méndez. Cebrián pulls out a crude weapon hidden in his tunic. He jams the sharp point into the prince’s shoulder.
I can’t move. Lucia was still alive? How did she recover? Then it hits me. The new Ventári was Lucia, and I saw right past her.
“No,”