everyone that the word grandmother sounds strange to say. I never even met mine. I try to picture Esteban having someone to care for him, and a want springs forth that I didn’t even know I had. “I thought you were from Crescenti.”
“My family left after the King’s Wrath,” Esteban says, biting at his already raw cuticles. “I went to the Whispers and Nan came here to help the elders. She’s one of the Olvidados,” he says. There’s the shadow of bruises on his brown skin. One on his cheek and a couple on his forearm, as if someone grabbed him and wouldn’t let go.
“The forgotten ones?” I remember stories about the Olvidados. They were people born to Moria families, but their magics never surfaced. Centuries ago, in the kingdom of Memoria, the old priests and priestesses named them Olvidados—forgotten by the Lady of Shadows.
“My nan’s family didn’t shun her for not having magics,” Esteban explained. “In Citadela Crescenti, Moria born is Moria no matter what, as long as we keep the Lady of Shadows in our hearts. We were separated after the King’s Wrath, but she found Illan and offered to be his eyes and ears in the capital. One of them, at least.”
Margo nods solemnly. “We do not betray the identity of our spies. But—”
Her voice quivers, and she doesn’t have to finish, to say, But under the circumstances. But Dez is dead.
“We shouldn’t be here,” I say.
“She brought us fresh clothes and food for the night. There’s water to clean up,” Sayida says carefully, like she’s trying to keep a wild animal calm.
The ceiling creaks beneath the feet of boarders, but the silence in the streets carries its own weight. I need to get out of these moss-covered walls. I need to find him.
“Eat,” Esteban says roughly. He won’t look into my eyes. “Nan was kind enough to bring us dinner. Don’t let it go to waste.”
“I am grateful for that,” I say, sounding like I gargled with sand.
“You aren’t acting that way,” he says.
“I just watched our leader get beheaded,” I snap. “Forgive me if I can’t stomach food just yet, Esteban.”
Margo kicks a sack of rice beside her. “Stop acting like you’re the only one who cared for Dez.”
Sayida steps to the center of the musty room. Her soft black waves are loose, and out of all of us she’s the most calm. What must it be like to be in control of your emotions that way? Can her Persuári magics drown out her sorrow? Could she do that for me? Take my emotions the way I take memories?
“We are all hurting,” she says. “We will all deal with this in different ways. Shouting at each other isn’t going to be one of them. He wouldn’t want that.”
I stare at the cold ground between my feet. I let my heart slow down, the vines tighten around it. I know that I’m the only one who can move forward from here. I know that none of them understand, not even Sayida. Dez was all I had, and I killed him.
“We can’t stay here,” I say as I lace up my boots. I ache from my fingertips to my toes. I ache so much that if I stop moving I might not get back up.
“We can’t return to ángeles yet. There are sweeps all over the city,” Margo says, anger shrouding her words.
“I’m not going back there. I’m going to the palace. I’m going to kill the prince.”
“We barely got out of there alive.” Margo steps to me like a challenge. “They’re looking for us, even now. They know Whispers were there for Dez.”
I laugh, a cruel sound. “We weren’t there for Dez. We— I failed. Dez is dead.”
The three of them trade glances seeped with the same guilt I feel.
“You’re hurting,” Sayida says softly. “But now is not the time to act without thinking. We give it some time. Head back to ángeles.”
“Illan told us not to come back.”
“He will forgive us,” Sayida says. “I’m sure of it. We can make it to the ship heading to Empirio Luzou. It’ll be safer on the coast with the guards concentrated in the capital. We’ll endure Illan’s punishment.”
“And let Dez’s death go unpunished?” I demand. Standing, I wince as a dozen new bruises make themselves known.
“The Whispers need us.”
“For what? It’s over.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Margo asks. “Is this what Dez would want? This version of Renata Convida? The rebellion doesn’t die with him.”
“All the more reason to