considering arguing, but then her shoulders slumped and she nodded once before departing.
Waiting for the sound of her footfalls to diminish, Killian stooped next to the cot on which Asha lay, gathering her up and lifting her slight form. But as he did, a piece of paper drifted from beneath her to land on the floor.
Skin crawling, he set the girl down and retrieved the paper, unfolding it to reveal a message.
The weak will always be tempted by the promise of strength. Especially when that which has been their strength has proven itself weak.
R
Rufina. Anger rose in Killian’s chest, hot and wild, and he crunched the message into a ball before shoving it in one pocket. Lifting Asha, he carried her out of the cell and down the corridor to the room containing the trapdoor that led to the tunnels beneath the palace. With a torch in one hand, he balanced the girl on his shoulder, winding his way down until he could make out the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs.
The tunnel opened into a small chamber, at the far side of which was a barred opening leading to the sea. An escape route built by House Falorn when they’d constructed this palace generations ago. There were small boats resting against one of the walls, along with crates of supplies.
Placing the girl’s body in one of the boats, he used the jars of lamp oil in the crate to soak her shroud. Then he unlocked the bars and pushed the boat down the carved stone steps onto the sea.
Clearing his throat, he shouted, “If you want her back, then take her!”
The roll of thunder from the storm grew quiet, the deluge of rain ceasing in the space of a heartbeat. The waves pushed against the boat and then fell still, the ocean smooth as glass.
Killian tossed the torch into the boat, watching as the flames took hold, then shoved the vessel hard. It drifted out into the ocean, a current taking hold of it and pulling it farther and farther from shore until all that Killian could see was the glow of flames.
“May the Six fight over the honor of holding your soul,” he said, and without another word he retreated into the palace.
26
LYDIA
“Girl-with-no-name?”
Lydia opened her eyes, struggling to orient herself.
“Hello?” A hand waved in front of her face, and she blinked. “You alive?”
Lydia focused on the news crier sitting in front of her, knees pulled up to his chest. What had he said his name was? She wracked her brain, her wits foggy and slow. Finn, that was it. “I’m alive.”
He squinted at her. “When was the last time you ate?”
“Dawn.” Though calling it eating was a stretch—she’d scavenged the refuse piles along with the other homeless, forcing herself to chew and swallow the scraps of rotting vegetables and rancid meat. Keeping it down had been another matter entirely.
Frowning, the boy pulled a heel of bread from his pocket. “Here.”
Lydia’s mouth instantly watered. “I can’t take that from you.”
“Sure you can,” he said. “Had my meal with a lord this morning—ate like the king I am, and there’s no way I can fit another bite down my gullet. See?” He lifted his shirt and puffed out his skinny belly. “Full up.”
No doubt he was telling another one of his fables, but the pinching pain in her stomach had no interest in selflessness. Taking the loaf, she tore into it, each mouthful utter bliss.
“Don’t suppose you’ve any interest in a job?”
Lydia lifted her head, the bread souring in her mouth. There was only one job left in the city, and she’d be lying to say that she hadn’t considered it. However, the current supply far outweighed the demand, and she wasn’t quite hungry enough to give up so much for a day’s worth of food. “I’m not a prostitute.”
“Do I look like a cathouse madam to you?” He grinned. “Captain of Princess Malahi’s bodyguard is looking for a new recruit.”
“I’m hardly qualified,” she muttered, remembering all too clearly the number of times in the past days when she hadn’t even been able to protect herself.
He cocked one eyebrow. “Don’t know how to fight?”
She opened her mouth, then thought better of what she’d intended to say. Admitting she was incapable of defending herself seemed like asking for trouble. “Not well enough to guard a princess.”
“Well, if you want to get to Serlania, maybe you’ll find a way to fake it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Princess is heading to Serlania