Ryo fell inside the dark tunnel, and I yanked the glove from the wall, and the bricks slammed back into place behind us.
Muffled shouts echoed inside the tunnel. The crowd and the guards struck the other side of the Executioner’s wall, cheering for the end of the royal line, vowing death when they caught us.
But no one could enter without the golden gloves.
I slipped the black mask off my face and gasped like I’d surfaced for air. I pried off the heavy gloves and they clattered against the ground.
Holy night, holy excrement, holy lamb’s stomach ground to stew.
I knelt by the prince’s side. The ground was damp with what I assumed was his blood. Ryo cursed and moaned in the dark. I leaned over his body, my arms outstretched toward the wall where I’d left the lantern. My fingers scraped the wall and the ground, until finally they brushed the cold glass.
I struck the sparker and lit the wick.
Blood had turned my father’s tunnel red.
I couldn’t force myself to check the wound on Ryo’s shoulder. I should. I should make a list, make a plan, but instead the searing island of light burned my eyes and I focused on the storage in my father’s tunnel—broken cupboards and wardrobes, some with doors half-hung or missing shelves. A rug we no longer used was rolled across glazed chests full of my mother’s things. A dusty bed frame with rotting hay sticking through the padding rested under a tattered map nailed into the carved dirt wall.
We’d be safe here. There were tunnels like this one all under this city, either made to commune with the Undergod or to escape the notice of his Devout.
Could we use these tunnels?
Edvarg was dead, I knew it, but without a king the factions would turn on one another. Devani magic against the Devout. The Savak would find us easy pickings divided as we were.
The chaos in the street above sent a rainfall of dirt on us. Ryo moaned.
I turned away. At the end of the long tunnel, a rickety door led out into the streets. No one but my family had that key. No one knew that cobbled door led to the Executioner’s wall.
I twisted my mother’s ring around my smallest finger. I had to find Grig.
But I couldn’t leave Ryo to die.
A splatter of blood lined Ryo’s profile in the flickering lantern light. He sprawled against the wall, his face pressed against the stones. Tears painted missing lines on his blood-covered cheeks. The arrow sprouted from his shoulder.
His glossy eyes widened as I leaned over him. “Do your worst,” he said, his voice quiet. “I won’t tell you anything.”
I pulled back the hood that had shadowed my face. “Try not to speak.” I removed the hood and pressed the fabric over the wound to stop the bleeding.
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “You’re a girl?”
I rolled my eyes. I’d literally just saved his life, and now he was complaining that I did it as a female. “Why not? Anyone could be anything in this city. Hold this tight against your shoulder.” I stood. I raked through a cupboard. “Father has to have something for—”
I opened a drawer hiding a slew of knives, took one, and moved on. The next drawer held maps, and the one after that clothing. I opened a cabinet door. Bandages. Yes. Maybe I could bind his mouth closed.
There wasn’t time for my anger. I carried the bandages back and moved the soaked fabric to inspect his shoulder. The blood seeped around the shaft. When I took out the arrow, more blood would burst through his wound. I needed to move quickly.
He held his neck tight. “So the Tomlinson family is a line of Executioners. I’m surprised Grig didn’t let that secret slip.” He drew a deep breath. “I always thought your father had too much influence for a farmer.”
I pressed his wound with my thumb and he winced. It wasn’t the insult to my father’s position that chafed my nerves, it was the word had. I knew my father would never leave me unless he was trying to protect me from something.
But who was going to protect him?
“I’m going to have to remove the arrow,” I said quickly. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to use your shoulder or your arm ever again.”
I didn’t know what I was doing. I fell against my heels, the moment he was struck echoing in my mind. “Perhaps I should go