Fie heard the shatter of glassblack, the creak and squeal as cracks spread over the wall. It buckled in a flood of dead skin. Ghasts plastered over her, wrapped about her, slick and lukewarm. She heard Tavin cry out.
Then the great mass of skin-ghasts yanked them through, swept them through the gardens, swift as a wind from the sea, the horrid whistles peeling from every hole in their hides. Twisting, flaccid arms bound around her wrists, gagged her on dirty skin, shoved her and Tavin up past all the pavilions, up past the Well of Grace, up the stairs of the royal residence itself.
They carried her and Tavin out onto the main veranda overlooking all of Dumosa, the palace spread out below, and spat them onto the beautiful inlaid floor.
A hand seized Fie’s hair and yanked.
“You should have died days ago.” Rhusana sounded tired, resigned. “You should have died weeks ago. It would have been so much better that way. I would have already ended the Phoenixes if you weren’t breaking your back to save them.”
Fie scrambled to her feet. Tavin was trying to push himself up, but his every breath scraped louder, harsher.
Rhusana slid out onto the veranda. She hadn’t changed from the ball, still in her elegant, hair-embroidered gown, still wearing Ambra’s crown on her head like a trophy. The chaos had barely ruffled her.
Fie glanced over her own shoulder: the railing was ten paces behind her. That was all that lay between her and a dead drop into the Well of Grace.
“Spare me the ‘better’ dung,” Fie snarled, and darted to Tavin, hooking her arms under his. “You talk about ending Phoenixes like you weren’t calling yourself the White Phoenix. You only want to change the caste system so you’re on top of it.”
Rhusana’s eyes flashed. She laid a hand on her bangle of wrought oleanders. “You have no idea what I want.” A low growl curled from the shadows; her white tiger stepped, jerking and twitching, onto the veranda. It tossed its head in a silent hiss, then shook itself.
Rhusana’s hand slipped from the bangle, and the tiger let out a low whimper.
Of course. Fie almost laughed. The queen had done what Fie herself had done—conceal the tools of her craft in her jewelry, only with hair instead of teeth. She’d never truly commanded the beast; she’d just commanded it by its hungers and yanked it about by its hide for everything else.
Rhusana held up a finger. Around it she’d wrapped a few strands of black hair.
“I think you want to get away from my pet,” she said.
Fie wanted to get away from the tiger. Her own mind filled in the blanks: fear of those bared teeth, the lightning in her veins that came with terror, the way it gave her strength to scuttle across the beautiful floor, dragging Tavin with her.
“I really did want it to be better,” Rhusana said, gliding alongside her tiger. “For everyone.”
Fie felt her own legs pushing them back, closer to the railing, closer to the edge. She had to, had to get away from those jaws—and yet—
“Where’s Rhusomir?” she ground out.
Rhusana tilted her head, as if Fie had asked about earrings she’d worn the week before. “What do you care for my son?”
“I don’t,” Fie said, “and neither do you. But only one of us is pretending they deserve to be queen.”
“And only one of us is afraid right now.” Rhusana took another step forward, brow furrowing. She clenched Fie’s hair so tight it dug into her finger. Fie hoped it drew blood.
A fresh surge of panic sent Fie back again, arms locked around Tavin. The tiger loomed closer as fear clawed at her every thought. She wanted to get back, she wanted to get away—
She felt her spine slam into the marble railing. Even that wasn’t far enough. Adrenaline drove her to her feet, Tavin slumped in her arms.
Good. She’d never have carried him all this way without panic pouring strength into her bones.
“You don’t know what it’s like,” Rhusana said. “You have no idea how it feels to never belong anywhere, to have no home, to know that your very existence could get you killed. You have no idea—”
The rasp of Tavin’s labored breath went quiet.
“I don’t have time for this,” Fie said, and dragged herself and Tavin over the railing.
The last thing she saw was a sudden blue hush as the sun finally slipped behind the cliffs.