skin beneath his eyes. He would deny it, but now she was only a source of grief and endless worry for him.
She hurried quietly across the room in her bare feet. At the door, she had to stop for a moment, put her hand over her mouth until the sob building in her throat subsided. How desperately she wanted to kiss him once more, bow her head over Eliana’s tiny warm body and press her face to her daughter’s round cheeks.
But she could not risk waking them. She stepped into the hallway, closed the door behind her. Never had a sound held such terror and such bone-shattering relief. Knees shaking, she leaned hard against the door, held up a hand to silence Evyline before the woman could speak.
“Send the others away,” Rielle muttered, staring at the floor. She found it hard to look at Evyline, who had asked Rielle many times for permission to replace Maylis and Fara. But Rielle would not allow it. She wanted to look at the two empty places in her old guard. She wanted to feel the remorse it brought, let it sit prickly in her gut.
Evyline obeyed her at once. Soon they were alone.
“What is it, my queen?” Evyline placed her broad hand on Rielle’s back. “Is it an angel?”
Unthinkable, that Evyline could have forgiven her, and yet when Rielle finally found the courage to look at her, she saw only love in the older woman’s tired eyes.
“I’m leaving,” Rielle whispered. “I need you to help me reach the mountains. I cannot be in the city when it happens.”
Evyline’s eyes widened. Rielle watched her swallow her protests, the dimming of her face as she accepted this command.
“Very well, my queen.” Evyline offered her arm, and Rielle took it gratefully. “Where shall we go?”
“Mount Taléa. The foothills, near the pass.” Rielle squeezed her eyes shut. Power rippled at her fingertips, pushing hard at the beds of her nails. The ends of her hair sparked white.
Evyline’s face was tight with worry as they hurried down the hallway. “Will we have time to get there? My queen, forgive me, but your face…it is full of light. Stars beneath your cheekbones.”
“I know.” At the stairwell, they stopped. Rielle leaned against the wall. Her mind first went to Ludivine, a horrible mistake that left her breathless with sorrow. She pushed past Ludivine’s memory, and Corien’s just behind it, and instead formed a picture of a different angel in her mind.
Zahra? Please, hurry.
A moment later, the wraith emerged from the nearby wall, her hair streaming behind her in white currents. Evyline flinched in surprise, spat a curse.
Zahra knelt at once. “What can I do, my queen?”
“Two things,” Rielle said tightly. “I need you to guard us as we walk through the city. No one can see us. Keep them far away from me.”
“Yes, my queen.”
“And I need you to ensure that Audric doesn’t wake, not until I’m far enough away from Baingarde that even if he ran full tilt, even if he raced for me on Atheria, he could not stop me.” She gritted her teeth, blinked the bright spots from her eyes. “You understand why I am doing this.”
Zahra’s face held a grave sadness. “Of course, my queen.”
“And you can do both of these things at once? I trust no one else, Zahra. I need you and you alone.”
“I can, and I will.” A ripple of power shifted across Zahra’s face, as if the current of her mind had changed course. Her voice lowered. “The king will not wake until you reach the Flats, my queen.”
“Good.” Drawing thin breaths, Rielle looked down the dark tunnel of the stairs. Each step seemed a mountain. Needles of light pushed their way into her muscles. When she moved, pain scraped her insides, as if every bone had grown sharp black bristles.
“I have much to tell you as we walk,” she said, and stumbled toward the stairs before Evyline could catch her. “Listen carefully, for what I do tonight will touch everyone who lives.”
She had to stop speaking, then, until they had descended the endless stairs and left the castle behind. Evyline took her to a door near the kitchens, and they emerged into the gardens. Rielle glanced only once toward the dark seeing pools, and when she searched the gloom, the empirium showed her a faint memory, etched in gold—herself running fast across the slippery stones, Ludivine following steadily behind, Audric watching nervously from the grass.
She wept then, even as her blood