She wished he would stop calling her that. Each time he did, she worried he would creep closer to the truth.
“You are a generous man, Your Excellency, and a considerate partner,” she replied.
“Ah, but Scarlett,” he said. “I am not a man.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that, other than an obsequious apology, a few compliments about his prowess on the dance floor.
He responded to none of it, his silence stretching ominously until the waltz concluded. He stopped in the heart of the ballroom to bow before her.
“It’s a pity, Scarlett,” the admiral said, brushing his mouth across her hand, “that we didn’t have more time together.”
His lips did not touch her. Instead, the beak of his mask scraped across her sleeve.
Then the room exploded.
• • •
Chaos overwhelmed the masquerade.
Revelers shoved past each other as they rushed for the exits, trampling the fallen and tripping over their gowns.
Eliana searched for the source of the detonations, but she could see only smoke and clouds of dust, rivers of people fleeing into the streets. A shoulder whacked her, then an elbow. She staggered, and the next time someone smashed into her, she let her fist fly and knocked them flat. Beneath her gloves, her castings were flaring to life for the first time since returning from the Old World.
When she turned back to the admiral, he was gone.
But Simon was there, shoving his way toward her against the crowd’s current, revolver in hand. She met him halfway, and he crushed her to his chest with his free arm.
“Are those ours?” she asked of the explosions. “Our teams must know something.”
“Those blasts were angelic,” Simon replied, his voice carved from ice. “The army has arrived.”
Harkan. A chill shook her sweat-slicked body and her chest clenched around her heart. His team would be first in the army’s line of fire. She shut her eyes, sent a feeling of love Zahra’s way, and hoped it would reach her, that she would send it to Harkan. A message of hope, of thanks.
Stay alive, Harkan. Fight them, and come find me. We’ll wait as long as we can. I’ll make them wait for you.
Simon looked ready to spit fire. “We have to go to the docks. Now. We can’t wait for the others.”
“Has the ship arrived?”
“We’ll find another, if we must,” he said darkly. “And I’ll cut down anyone who tries to stop me.”
Together, they ran.
• • •
Outside the palace, the streets were on fire.
Cannon fire shattered the city to pieces, smashing rooftops to the ground and igniting stored fireworks meant for celebrations later in the night.
Angels in gold chain mail and gleaming armor flooded the streets. They marched down every road, the Emperor’s winged crest emblazoning their chests. Burnished wings capped their helmets like horns, and they swept through Festival like a wave. They killed indiscriminately. Bodies littered the ground—bloodstained gowns, slit throats heavy with beads, glittering bodices pierced with arrows. Torches had been smashed, tapestries and feasting tents now consumed with flames.
As Eliana ran, ducking flying debris, keeping close to Simon, her thoughts spun wildly for Harkan.
If the army had arrived, then his team had already engaged them. Maybe they were holding off a stream of them, keeping at least some of them at bay. Maybe they had abandoned their post, sensing the futility of it, and were on their way to join Eliana at the docks.
Maybe he was already dead.
Zahra? She sent her thoughts into the chaotic night. Are you there? Is Harkan alive?
Simon caught her elbow hard. They’d stopped at the edge of small dunes overlooking the white shore.
The beach was a wide crescent-moon smile, its docks snaking into the water like long rotted fangs. The air was ripe with confusion. The people of Festival who’d managed to escape the streets’ bloodbath clamored across the sand, fighting their way toward the docks, swimming out into the shallows. They attempted to climb aboard merchant vessels, cargo carriers, even tried desperately for the Empire warships, resplendent with black-and-crimson sails. They screamed for mercy as the angels cut them down, a ruthless storm of gold pushing out from the city.
Simon pointed at the water, sweat dripping beneath his mask. “The Dovitiam. It’s arrived.”
Eliana saw it—a plain cargo vessel, squat and battered, waiting quietly in the shallows. A runt compared to the sleek warships. But its first mate was Red Crown, and the captain was smitten with her, would do anything she asked.
She started forward, ready to run for it, but Simon held her fast.
“There are too many people crowding the beach,” he muttered. “We won’t be able to reach it without getting trampled.”
Then, cannon fire to their right, and a fresh cascade of gunfire. Eliana turned and saw the ghosts of white cliffs around the rim of the beach—the mouth of a canyon, narrow trails winding down the cliffsides. The spark and glint of weapons, armor, gunshots. Another river of the imperial army, flooding down to the beach from the south.
Eliana reached for Zahra once more, her eyes stinging. Harkan? Zahra? Please, say something.
But her mind remained empty and her own.
“We have to run for it,” she said, forcing her voice past the terrible fear sprouting tendrils inside her. “The Dovitiam is the rendezvous. Everyone will be meeting us there. Remy’s there.”
“I don’t much care about everyone else, if it means safely getting you off this continent,” Simon said sharply.
She glared at him. “If you think I’m going anywhere without my brother, you’re insane.”
“And if you die trying to find him somewhere in all of this?” He flung out his hand at the swarming shore below them. “Everything we’ve done will have been for nothing. I can’t allow you to risk your life for him, or for anyone.”
“You can’t allow me?” She laughed. “I thought by now you understood how this works.”
He looked away from her with a foul curse. “I can’t see how we’ll get through that mob without you getting killed.”
Eliana gave him a hard grin and ripped off her gloves. Her castings sparked, ecstatic to be set free. “I know how.”
Simon went very still. “You’re still recovering from your fight with Rielle. You have to save your energy.”
“I think I know my own strength better than you do.”
“Your castings are a beacon. Using them will draw the army right to you.” ished he would stop calling her that. Each time he did, she worried he would creep closer to the truth.
“You are a generous man, Your Excellency, and a considerate partner,” she replied.
“Ah, but Scarlett,” he said. “I am not a man.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that, other than an obsequious apology, a few compliments about his prowess on the dance floor.
He responded to none of it, his silence stretching ominously until the waltz concluded. He stopped in the heart of the ballroom to bow before her.
“It’s a pity, Scarlett,” the admiral said, brushing his mouth across her hand, “that we didn’t have more time together.”
His lips did not touch her. Instead, the beak of his mask scraped across her sleeve.
Then the room exploded.
• • •
Chaos overwhelmed the masquerade.
Revelers shoved past each other as they rushed for the exits, trampling the fallen and tripping over their gowns.
Eliana searched for the source of the detonations, but she could see only smoke and clouds of dust, rivers of people fleeing into the streets. A shoulder whacked her, then an elbow. She staggered, and the next time someone smashed into her, she let her fist fly and knocked them flat. Beneath her gloves, her castings were flaring to life for the first time since returning from the Old World.
When she turned back to the admiral, he was gone.
But Simon was there, shoving his way toward her against the crowd’s current, revolver in hand. She met him halfway, and he crushed her to his chest with his free arm.
“Are those ours?” she asked of the explosions. “Our teams must know something.”
“Those blasts were angelic,” Simon replied, his voice carved from ice. “The army has arrived.”
Harkan. A chill shook her sweat-slicked body and her chest clenched around her heart. His team would be first in the army’s line of fire. She shut her eyes, sent a feeling of love Zahra’s way, and hoped it would reach her, that she would send it to Harkan. A message of hope, of thanks.
Stay alive, Harkan. Fight them, and come find me. We’ll wait as long as we can. I’ll make them wait for you.
Simon looked ready to spit fire. “We have to go to the docks. Now. We can’t wait for the others.”
“Has the ship arrived?”
“We’ll find another, if we must,” he said darkly. “And I’ll cut down anyone who tries to stop me.”
Together, they ran.
• • •
Outside the palace, the streets were on fire.
Cannon fire shattered the city to pieces, smashing rooftops to the ground and igniting stored fireworks meant for celebrations later in the night.
Angels in gold chain mail and gleaming armor flooded the streets. They marched down every road, the Emperor’s winged crest emblazoning their chests. Burnished wings capped their helmets like horns, and they swept through Festival like a wave. They killed indiscriminately. Bodies littered the ground—bloodstained gowns, slit throats heavy with beads, glittering bodices pierced with arrows. Torches had been smashed, tapestries and feasting tents now consumed with flames.
As Eliana ran, ducking flying debris, keeping close to Simon, her thoughts spun wildly for Harkan.
If the army had arrived, then his team had already engaged them. Maybe they were holding off a stream of them, keeping at least some of them at bay. Maybe they had abandoned their post, sensing the futility of it, and were on their way to join Eliana at the docks.
Maybe he was already dead.
Zahra? She sent her thoughts into the chaotic night. Are you there? Is Harkan alive?
Simon caught her elbow hard. They’d stopped at the edge of small dunes overlooking the white shore.
The beach was a wide crescent-moon smile, its docks snaking into the water like long rotted fangs. The air was ripe with confusion. The people of Festival who’d managed to escape the streets’ bloodbath clamored across the sand, fighting their way toward the docks, swimming out into the shallows. They attempted to climb aboard merchant vessels, cargo carriers, even tried desperately for the Empire warships, resplendent with black-and-crimson sails. They screamed for mercy as the angels cut them down, a ruthless storm of gold pushing out from the city.
Simon pointed at the water, sweat dripping beneath his mask. “The Dovitiam. It’s arrived.”
Eliana saw it—a plain cargo vessel, squat and battered, waiting quietly in the shallows. A runt compared to the sleek warships. But its first mate was Red Crown, and the captain was smitten with her, would do anything she asked.
She started forward, ready to run for it, but Simon held her fast.
“There are too many people crowding the beach,” he muttered. “We won’t be able to reach it without getting trampled.”
Then, cannon fire to their right, and a fresh cascade of gunfire. Eliana turned and saw the ghosts of white cliffs around the rim of the beach—the mouth of a canyon, narrow trails winding down the cliffsides. The spark and glint of weapons, armor, gunshots. Another river of the imperial army, flooding down to the beach from the south.
Eliana reached for Zahra once more, her eyes stinging. Harkan? Zahra? Please, say something.
But her mind remained empty and her own.
“We have to run for it,” she said, forcing her voice past the terrible fear sprouting tendrils inside her. “The Dovitiam is the rendezvous. Everyone will be meeting us there. Remy’s there.”
“I don’t much care about everyone else, if it means safely getting you off this continent,” Simon said sharply.
She glared at him. “If you think I’m going anywhere without my brother, you’re insane.”
“And if you die trying to find him somewhere in all of this?” He flung out his hand at the swarming shore below them. “Everything we’ve done will have been for nothing. I can’t allow you to risk your life for him, or for anyone.”
“You can’t allow me?” She laughed. “I thought by now you understood how this works.”
He looked away from her with a foul curse. “I can’t see how we’ll get through that mob without you getting killed.”
Eliana gave him a hard grin and ripped off her gloves. Her castings sparked, ecstatic to be set free. “I know how.”
Simon went very still. “You’re still recovering from your fight with Rielle. You have to save your energy.”
“I think I know my own strength better than you do.”
“Your castings are a beacon. Using them will draw the army right to you.”