“No, I should be begging for yours,” Jonas said. “I’m sorry, Felix. I’m sorry I doubted you.”
Felix drew in a ragged breath. “Let’s put it in the past where dark things belong. Right now, I need an enormous favor.”
“Anything.”
“Get me the hell out of here.”
The rebel grinned. “That I can do.”
Jonas quickly explained that the dungeon was in shambles and the Kraeshian revolutionaries were working their way through it, freeing prisoners and killing any guard who tried to stop them. Felix just stared at his friend, his words a comforting buzz in his ears as Jonas helped him to his feet, his body screaming in pain with every movement.
Jonas helped Felix through the cell door. As they gingerly traversed the hallway, Felix saw what was left of his torturer, slumped over against the wall, hacked into several pieces.
Felix nodded at him. “That’s unfortunate.”
“Why’s that?”
“I wanted to kill him myself.”
Jonas shot him a dark grin as they continued to navigate the ruined dungeon.
“We’ve got a lot to do,” Jonas said as they began up the stairs. “And we need your help. Are you in?”
Felix nodded. “I’m definitely with you. Whatever you need.”
“I have someone who can heal you quickly.” Jonas looked him over again, grimacing. “I don’t think she can help with your eye, though.”
“Ah, thanks for the reminder. I knew I forgot something in my cell.”
“Here, consider this a gift.” He fished into his pocket and handed Felix a black eye patch. “I’m sure it’ll look better on you than it did on me.”
Felix looked up at him, puzzled. “I won’t ask.”
Jonas grinned. “So how’s your redemption plan coming along?”
Felix laughed, and it hurt just a little less this time.
• • •
The eye patch was going to take some getting used to, but Olivia managed to heal all of Felix’s other wounds.
As the Watcher worked on Felix, Jonas looked on, vocally annoyed that her healing recipe hadn’t included cow dung this time.
“I had to use that on you back then. You still thought I was only a witch,” she explained. “There are no witches powerful enough to heal serious wounds with touch alone.”
“Whatever you’re doing,” Felix said, gritting his teeth through the pain of the miraculous earth magic, “don’t stop.”
The prison break had officially marked the start the Kraeshian revolution. Rebels, including those who’d just escaped from the prison, poured out into the streets ready to fight, itching to take over the Emerald Spear and the Jewel itself.
Still, after Mikah explained the current situation, Felix knew—with fewer than three hundred dedicated rebels currently on the island—they didn’t have nearly enough revolutionaries to succeed in a takeover in a city this size.
Even with twenty ships of Kraeshian troops sailing to Mytica to help with the king’s “peaceful occupation” the remaining guards in the city outnumbered the rebels ten to one.
Still, Felix was even more impressed with Mikah now than when he’d first learned of his ambitions. He’d never known anyone more determined to make a difference in the world, no matter how long it took.
“Where’s Taran?” Felix asked him now.
“On the south side of the city. I put him in charge of the faction over there.”