weak and weary near Lozar’s feet. His body shudders with every breath. A copper cuff around his wrist. He mutters his rage.
“What does Our Lady call you?” Lozar asks.
The boy’s face snaps up at the sound of a voice. But his surprise disappears when Lozar comes closer.
“Andrés,” the boy says. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get out of here.”
I wrench my fingers from his temples, breaking the connection that’s burning new lines of magic across the top of my hands. This is the hardest memory to break free from. Being able to hear Dez once more leaves me shaking. We’re going to get out of here.
“Dez,” I say, sinking back into the sorrow I felt when I first came to, after the execution.
“Dez?” A momentary confusion crosses Lozar’s face as he reaches for his memory where Dez’s name used to be and is now empty. “Is that the boy’s name?”
“Was,” I say softly.
You’ll see the light soon enough, the prince told Dez. That was Castian shoving Dez into the cell in Lozar’s memory. That was him holding the small wooden box that made even Dez flinch, and that was his voice, leaving Dez to his death. Even if I couldn’t see his face well, I know it like I know the hate carved into my own heart. I heard his voice in Esmeraldas. In Dez’s memory of Riomar. Castian was in Celeste’s home. No one can know I was here, he said then. I didn’t understand why Castian would care if he was seen. Then I think of what I saw in the alman stone: Lucia with her blank eyes and strange glowing veins, her lifeless husk of a body, still moving even though her magics had been carved out. Castian wanted to break Dez. He taunted Dez with the weapon before the execution. When will he use it next?
I gave the prince everything he wanted.
I slam my fist into the door.
I feel the pain like nails driving into my arm. Blood runs down my fingers. I stare out the window on the door and watch the flame of the torch crackle. I have to get out of here.
Days ago, I wanted to climb my way up the ranks of the Whispers. I wanted to help get Moria to safe lands while we fought a silent war here. Today, I want to kill Prince Castian, need to kill Prince Castian. I want to see my face reflected in those sadistic blue eyes. Catch him by surprise. Match his violence with my own.
“You can’t do that. Not yet,” Lozar wheezes.
“What?” That sensation is back—one of a buzzing gliding along the inside of my head. I’ve been so consumed in my thoughts, I didn’t realize Lozar was observing them, too.
“You cannot kill the prince—not—” He struggles to speak over my protest, holds a finger in the air. “Not until you uncover where the weapon is kept.”
I pace around the cramped cell. Castian would never tell me willingly. I’d have to rip every memory from his mind until I uncovered his secrets.
“How often do the guards check on you?”
“Before they forgot I was in here?” Lozar asks weakly. “Once every week, maybe longer.”
I don’t have a week. If I break out now, I’ll be outnumbered by the guards before I find Castian. If I stay here until my so-called trial, he could move the weapon before I get to it.
“You know what you must do,” Lozar says. “Stay for more than your vengeance.”
I think of Esteban and Margo. They never trusted me. They never wanted me in their unit. They didn’t believe I was part of the cause. When you’re alone for so long you forget how to depend on others, how to have others depend on you. I don’t know how to be more than myself. The moment I found Celeste dead, I knew things would be different, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon. Dez was my hope. The Whispers’. His father’s, too.
Stay for more.
How can I do more with a power that is only meant to take? Perhaps for the first time, my power is the only thing I can count on to see me through.
We’re silent for a long time, Lozar’s breath so labored I fear he’s going to die before he can get the words out. He says with a small gasp of realization, “You are one of the stolen Moria children.”
“I was.”
“With this weapon—what’s to stop the king and the justice from repeating their sins?”
“That’s why