Bloodleaf (Bloodleaf 1)

Zan was being cast as his father’s assassin. Domhnall was a terrible king, but the people were scared and desperate for someone to blame for their suffering. Toris was feeding Zan to them like carrion to hungry wolves.

“Zan!” I cried, trying to break from the line to reach him. “Zan!”

Lisette tugged me back. “If my father sees you, he’ll kill you,” she hissed.

Hearing me call, he looked up, and my heart dropped at the sight of the dried blood caking his temple, the purple bruises marring his cheeks. His eyes were bright and angry, though, warning me away. I backed down, and Lisette and I fell into step with the mass as it moved toward the front steps of the castle, where Toris was waiting in full Tribunal regalia.

“Good people of Achleva!” he called with the same zest he used to always save for the most salacious witch executions. “Your great King Domhnall spent his life in your service, only to have it cut so short by the person he loved the most: his son. Prince Valentin has been doing everything in his power to destroy this sacred, ancient city, one murder at a time . . . even going so far as to frame and execute the innocent Dedrick Corvalis. But no more. His treachery has been dragged out into the light, and justice will soon be done!”

The crowd that had, only yesterday, cheered at Zan’s defiance of the king now screamed their hate-filled belief that he’d murdered him. Blood magic be damned; this was what true power looked like. Toris could wield a mob like a weapon.

I was wrong to have ever counted being paraded through a crowd bent on my death as my greatest nightmare. In truth, helplessly standing witness as it happened to someone I loved was far, far worse.

“What do we do?” Lisette whispered.

“We get him out,” I said. “We take him with us.”

I couldn’t watch Zan be dragged inside. Instead, I turned the force of my gaze to Toris, who was basking in the citizens’ fear and anger like a snake in the sun. He gave a deep bow and, wearing a confident smile, retreated into the castle that was now all but his.

I began calculating all the many ways I would make him pay.

* * *

Lisette was right: if Toris saw me, he’d kill me without hesitation. She, however, could move around inside undetected, so the task of surveillance fell to her. She was to observe everything she could about Zan’s imprisonment: If he was in the dungeon, which cell? How many guards would we have to contend with? How often did they rotate shifts? She’d collect as much information as possible, anything we could use to our advantage, and bring it back to me. At dark, I’d retrieve Zan and meet her and Conrad at the tower, and we’d all leave the city together.

She was a reluctant spy; I was an anxious sentinel. We were both ill-suited to our roles but united in our cause: retrieve Zan, escape with Conrad. Rob Toris of his pawns and deny him his victory.

I had to wait out the day in the tower. I meant to go all the way to the top, to watch what was happening in the city from its highest vantage point, but I barely made it

inside the door before my knees gave out. I crawled a few more feet before the days of accumulated exhaustion caught up with me. I slept for hours, curled up inside the mosaic triquetra, the tower’s thousand stairs spiraling into infinity above me.

My dreams were troubling, full of unnatural shadows and beguiling whispers. Help me, they said. Free me. I saw myself from above, thrashing in my sleep as serpentine tendrils of smoke coiled around my limbs. Let me out. The whispers grew more insistent, transforming from a plea to a demand.

Let me out.

I woke in a panic and scrambled from the mosaic, pressing my sweat-soaked back against the cold stone wall. Just a bad dream, I reassured myself. An unfortunate side effect of a weary body and a wounded heart.

Still, I didn’t want to spend another second in the tower.

I spent the rest of my vigil on the rocks below, watching boats—?full of rich merchants, mostly—?leave the docks across the water one by one, crossing beneath King’s Gate and leaving the suffering city behind. The poor could not leave so easily; my father used to say that a hurricane was an annoyance to the rich, while a mere drop of rain was a catastrophe to the poor. I wondered what wisdom he’d have imparted now, if he hadn’t died in the fire I’d sent to de Lena’s pier. I needed guidance, now more than ever.

It was dark again when I heard a shuffle on the other side of the tower. I scrambled to my feet.

“Aurelia?”

“Where have you been?” I said frantically. “I’ve waited all day! We need to—?”

I stopped. Lisette was standing behind Conrad, who was watching me with hesitant eyes. I tripped over my feet to get to him, grabbing him with both hands and pulling him into a fierce embrace even as I stumbled. I wasn’t sure if I was laughing or crying or both, but I didn’t care. He put his arms around me and hugged me back, and I buried my face in his hair.

“He said you killed Kellan. That you were trying to hurt Mother . . .”

“I didn’t hurt Kellan. I would never have in a million years hurt Kellan or Mother or you or anybody. It was Toris. It was all Toris.”

“Aurelia, I mean Lisette, has been taking care of me.”

“I know! And she has been doing an excellent job. Look at you. You’re growing up so quickly. Mother will be so proud.”

“Look.” He brought out the winged-horse charm I’d hidden for him. “I’ve taken really good care of it.”