was safe.” The wind caught her hair, sending black strands dancing across her face.
“Did a lot of people live outside the city? Before—before it became this?”
“Many people,” Nettle said. “Most of them did not escape.”
How many people had lived in this one part of Vanhelm alone? Thousands would have died. Tens of thousands. More than she could fathom.
Aurora clutched the dragon necklace that still hung around her neck. The distant smoke scratched her throat.
Finnegan had compared her to the dragons, and they had woken up and burned his whole kingdom away. What, then, did he expect to come of her?
FOUR
THE CITY OF VANHELM APPEARED GRADUALLY ON THE horizon. It was a shape at first, a gray disturbance in the morning mist, but as the boat glided closer, it gained form, became buildings, towers and spires, all different heights, all reaching into the sky. Aurora had thought that Petrichor was impressive, with its higgledy-piggledy streets, sprawling from the castle in all directions, but Vanhelm was breathtaking. As intimidating as the wasteland in its own way, but gleaming too, like a city overflowing with secrets.
Their ship reached the port midafternoon. The dock heaved with people, jostling to approach the boats, holding coins aloft and shouting destinations. Traders strained against the crowd, hauling crates marked with the crests of Alyssinia, of Falreach and Eko, while fishermen sat with their feet in the water, sorting their catches for the day.
A wall separated the dockyard from the rest of the city, with an unguarded archway allowing people to pass back and forth. Finnegan leaned against it, watching Aurora and Nettle struggle through the crowd. The prince seemed even more handsome than the last time Aurora had seen him. She had forgotten the infuriating twist to his grin and the contrast between his green eyes and black hair, the way he stood like he had never been uncertain in his life. He watched her as she approached.
A couple of men waited a few paces away from him. Guards, Aurora assumed. Other people glanced at the prince as they hurried past, but they did not stop.
“You’re late,” Finnegan said.
“The ship was delayed,” Nettle said. She stepped closer to him, but she did not curtsy. They were almost the same height. “We can hardly control that.”
“Aurora might, if she tried. I’ve been waiting for hours.” He pulled Nettle into a hug. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. Then he turned to Aurora. “Aurora,” he said. He took her hand and kissed her knuckles. It reminded her of the last time he had kissed her, as he slipped a map of his city into her palm. And before that, a brush of lips against her cheekbone, late at night in the castle. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
She gave Finnegan what she hoped was a firm, fearless smile. “I am glad to see you as well.”
“Are you? I was under the impression that you wouldn’t come here unless you had no other choice.”
She stopped smiling. “I’m sure you’re used to being considered a last resort,” she said. “But if you are too insulted, I will get the next ship out of the city.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it. Our friend King John is hunting for you. You’re not fool enough to go back there now.”
“No,” she said, “but Vanhelm isn’t the only place I can hide.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m so charming. But let’s not talk about it here. It’s too bright a day for politics, don’t you think? I’ll walk you and Nettle to the palace.”
Finnegan led them down the cobbled road, weaving in and out of the crowd. Petrichor had been busy, but Vanhelm was a whirlwind of people and noises and smells. The streets were cast into shadow by buildings that towered into the sky. Aurora craned her neck, trying to count the windows in the buildings as they passed. Ten, twenty . . . they stretched on forever, blocking out the light.
A man stood on the next street corner. He waved a bundle of papers, shouting at anyone who came near. “Beware your doom,” he said, the words ringing above the chaos of the street. “The dragons have come to purge this land! Repent of your sins before their fires purge your flesh!” He brandished the pamphlet at Aurora as she passed.
“Do people really believe that?” Aurora asked Nettle.
“People believe what they want to believe. I have never been one for trusting in the divine.”