one. What better gift to give our crown prince than the wretch that tried to kill him?”
I laugh. He doesn’t know. No one knows that Castian tried to stop the justice’s experiments. No one but Méndez and Cebrián, and now me. My mouth tastes sour at the thought that Castian—the person I hate most—may be my only way out.
“I’m going to drain every last memory out of your skull,” I tell him calmly. “When people look at you, they’re going to see the nothing you already are.”
“That’ll be difficult to do in chains,” he says.
I try to summon my power, but it doesn’t surge the same way it did in the dungeons. It is like trying to lift a brick wall with my mind. My whorls light up but sputter, flames in the wind.
Alessandro laughs at my efforts, when there’s a sharp, frantic series of knocks on the door. The guard answers it, and there’s a commotion out in the hallway. I wonder if Margo and Amina have found the Robári while I’ve been locked up here. What a fool I was to think that the elder would trust me. I wonder, if I were to become one of those creatures—would they come back for me? To finish me off? Would they even be able to tell the difference between the monster they thought I was and the one Judge Alessandro wants to turn me into?
You decide who you’re going to be. Sayida was wrong. Everyone keeps trying to decide for me. At some point, I’m not going to be able to stop them.
I try to listen to what’s happening outside the door.
“He’s been taken, my justice,” a woman’s voice says, panicked.
“What do you mean, taken? How could the prince have been taken?” Alessandro shouts.
“It appears the prisoner was not acting alone,” another guard says.
There’s the hard slap of a palm on skin. “Fools. You will be the ones to explain this to the king. I will accept no blame for the poor administration of security by my predecessor!”
There’s a rattle as the door to the room slams shut and a cylinder lock twists into place. I pound my fists against the solid wood, when something cold and clammy touches my shoulder.
I whirl around with my fist raised, then stand in shock at the man before me. Where was he hiding?
He holds his hands up to shield his eyes, his skin the color of ash, cracked in places where the flesh is dry. Red welts mark the insides of his elbows. His hair is dark, the only thing that betrays the unnatural aging of his skin. It’s as if whatever has accentuated his powers is destroying him from the inside out.
The Robári who steals magics instead of memories.
The weapon.
This is the future that awaits me.
“You.” The word slips out, defeated.
“Me,” he responds loudly. When he speaks, it is like holding a conch up to your ear.
“You’ve been here this whole time?” My eyes roam the room. There is a closet with the door swinging from the hinges.
“That new justice does not know my hiding places.”
He sits down on the floor, a few feet from the window, and stares at the sea. His stillness makes my skin crawl.
“But I have learned all the hidden doors of this place,” he continues. “You will, too.”
I go to the window and let myself sink to the floor. No wonder prisoners here go mad. There is no way out. There are the guards on one side and the sea on the other. When I close my eyes, I see Margo staring at me as she shook my hand, the good-bye we usually never said. She knew she was going to betray me.
You’re weak, she told me. That’s why I hated you.
Stupid, stupid, Ren.
Cebrián sits beside me. Even his nearness is icy, like coldness clings to him. Will it cling to me in this same way? I trace the inside of my arms where my veins show beneath my skin. Not as dark as his, not as terrifying as Lucia’s.
I hear horses neighing and hooves fading into the distance. They must’ve dispatched a group of guards to go after the Whispers. The rendezvous point at Nuria’s safe house, where all that’s left of the rebels will be until tomorrow when the ship leaves. The bell chimes once again, marking an hour since I was caught.
Margo’s betrayal hurts, but Sayida is still in that safe house. I think of the fledglings who have no place in the