Phoenix Flame - Sara Holland Page 0,77

going to go back. I’m going to stand trial.”

My heart plummets into my feet. I can’t help taking a step back, like someone’s hit me. “You can’t.”

“You can’t,” Brekken corrects me, his words toneless. “I can. Me or Graylin, and would you rather it be him?”

“No!” I yell, loud enough for the mountains to swallow my voice and toss it back toward us as an echo. “I don’t want either of you to go! What happens if you lose? If they convict you?”

I don’t know much about Myr’s criminal justice system, but I know enough about ours to be very, very afraid.

“Cadius wants the death penalty, obviously,” Brekken says. “But I’ll have a chance to speak. I’ll tell them about the soul trade, what we saw at the castle. It’s not a done deal.”

His stoic, almost casual tone tears at my insides. “It’s too risky. Just stay here, hide out, Brekken. Please.” I draw a shuddery breath. “Stay safe. If someone comes after you, I’ll tell them you left, I’ll think of something—”

“The other things I said still stand.”

He rubs one hand over his eyes. His uniform is rumpled, and there’s a faint layer of copper stubble on his jaw. On the Brekken breakdown scale, that’s practically the equivalent of anyone else running naked and raving through the streets. I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed how close he was to falling apart.

“The peace with Fiordenkill is still at stake,” he says. “And all that work you did to bring Solaria back into the fold. I’d hate to see Havenfall lose access to another Realm just because we were hasty and careless,” he adds with a small smile.

He’s trying to make light, I think, but I don’t want any of it.

“Then I should go,” I say, trying to sound braver than I feel. “The whole thing was my idea.”

“You can’t,” he shoots back. “It will all have been for nothing if we send the armor right back into Winterkill’s hands. And you won’t get far without it. You’ll drop dead after an hour in Fiordenkill, and Cadius won’t get his trial, and then Graylin or I will have to go in anyway.”

He lifts one hand, tentatively, and cups my cheek gently. “It makes sense for me to go, Maddie. You know it does.”

Deep down, some part of me knows he’s right. But I won’t admit it, can’t admit it. The words physically won’t come out. I put my hand over his, pressing it to my skin, trying to quell the panic speeding my heart.

“There’s no way you’ll get a fair trial.” I think with a surge of fear of the luxury at Cadius’s castle, how he seemed to have the Fiorden nobles in his pocket.

“I do think so, actually,” Brekken says. “A lot of Fiordens don’t like Winterkill and are against the soul trade. They’ll hear me out.”

But that doesn’t seem like enough. “I just …” My voice cracks, forcing me to drop it into a whisper. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You might not,” he says, almost cheerfully. “I’ll argue my case. They might even decide to execute Cadius instead.”

I laugh in spite of myself, but it comes out tinged with a sob. “ ‘You might not.’ That’s not really a comfort, you know.”

Brekken shrugs. “After everything with the Heiress, I promised myself I’d never lie to you again.”

“When do you have to go?” I ask. My chest hurts, like Cadius of Winterkill has reached out across the realms separating us and has closed cold fingers around my heart, tugging, tugging.

“Three days,” Brekken says.

He grabs my hand and starts walking down the sunny path again. It’s weird how much his touch makes me instinctively relax, despite how horribly wrong everything still is. The tension in my shoulders unwinds, my heart starting to beat at a normalish pace again.

“So I’ll have time to help out with the Silver Prince,” he adds. “Whatever we decide to do.”

It’s an unwelcome reminder of that terrible problem that we’re no closer to solving. More than twenty-four hours have passed since Nahteran first got the Silver Prince’s message. One of our three days, gone without anything to show for it.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I tense, already going to pull it out. Anytime my phone’s buzzed in the last couple of days, my instinct is always that it’s news about Mom. On the lock screen is a text from Marcus.

Come to my rooms please. Need to talk to you.

I show it to Brekken, who nods