She slinks like a ghost, her feet as soundless as a cat’s as she sneaks up behind guards, then touches them, causing them to disappear.
There’s no gratefulness in my chest, though I know I’ll feel it later.
Right now there’s no room for any emotion in my heart other than the desire to keep any harm from coming to Asha.
I can’t bear them, but the imagined scenes assault me, regardless. The images of Az laying Asha out over our bed overwhelm my mind, making my stomach writhe in agony.
I have to stop it. I have to stop it from happening.
I can’t let Asha hurt any more than she already has.
Fin and I wait, backs pressed against the cold marble wall, as Tavi slips around a corner to dispatch another guard.
There’s the quiet noise we first heard in the cell as she makes him disappear, and Fin and I take that as our signal to move.
But then a guard emerges from around the corner across the hall, just far enough so that neither of us can reach him before he brings a whistle to his mouth and sounds the alarm.
Fin and I manage to fight off the lone guard, Fin holding him as I administer a quick jab to his head. The guard slumps, dead or unconscious, I can’t tell. Fin lets his body drop to the floor, but the damage is already done.
We turn to find an array of soldiers racing down the hall.
One sends a dagger—scarlet-tipped to mark it as poisoned—spinning toward me. I dodge it with ease, my instincts taking over without having to think about it.
But where there should be a clatter as the dagger careens against the floor, there’s the sickening slicing of flesh instead.
My heart fails me, but when I turn to look, I already know what’s occurred.
Tavi’s milkweed face drains of color as she clutches the hilt protruding from her stomach.
No.
No.
I’m sorry, I think. Or maybe I mouth it. I can’t tell past the buzzing in my ears.
I’m at her side in an instant, catching her as she falls, dragging her backward into the adjacent hallway, away from the oncoming guards.
Fin races to catch up with us, his eyes wide with sorrow.
“Tavi, I’m so sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t realize…”
But I should have. I was so fixated on getting to Asha, I ignored my surroundings.
Of course, Tavi had stepped behind me for protection.
“I’m so sorry.”
She’s fighting to keep her eyes open, a dark puddle of blood forming at the edge of her lips.
“It’s alright,” she huffs. “Mama was right, you know. Should’ve listened to her.”
Mama always said my magic would get me killed.
But her magic hasn’t gotten her killed. I have.
I don’t know what to do. Soldiers are rounding the corner, and Tavi is as good as dead, but I can’t make my grip let go. Not when she sacrificed herself for us. Not when it’s my fault she’s dying.
“I was in love once,” Tavi says, and I can hardly hear her over the rustle of soldiers in the hall. “Asha always asked me about him. I liked telling our story. But I miss him. He died, you know. It hurts.” Tears puddle in her eyes. “It hurts so much. I don’t…” She screws up her features, determination replacing the glassiness on her expression. “I don’t want Asha to hurt. Not like that. Never like that.”
Fin reaches us just as the soldiers round the corner.
Tavi’s arms bolt outward, one grabbing my neck while the other wraps around Fin’s wrist.
I don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late.
Until the world shifts, and the palace disappears.
CHAPTER 59
BLAISE
It’s taken us over a week to track down Abra.
Over a week. Traveling at night, sleeping in caves during the day.
I think I can admit to myself now that there was a part of me that hoped the close quarters would bring us together, remind Nox of his love for me, or at least stir up a new form of desire, but it seems to have done the opposite.
Each night of our journey, we’ve talked less and less. Tonight I’m certain we’ve only exchanged a few words, each of them logistical.
