“You’re not a Dallisor either, from what I’m told. And the best reward you can give me is to ensure that the Dominion never knows I’m out here. Now, let’s see to your bath.”
Tillie bustled around, filling my bath and setting out soaps for my hair and body. I merely stared at them, motionless, until she said, “You’ll enjoy it more if you finish before the water turns to ice.” Then she shut the door and left me alone.
The first thing I did was to unclasp Lord Endrick’s necklace—I didn’t want the soaps to ruin it. But the instant I pulled it off, I was struck with a pain that sent me to my knees. I dropped the necklace and felt almost frozen in place, a suffocating clench on my heart.
From somewhere deep inside me, a voice seemed to say, You are mine, child. You are a weapon of the Dominion. It wasn’t a true voice, but rather an echo of my past. I’d heard the words before.
I fumbled for the necklace and pressed it back to my chest. The pain remained, but it was better, and with some effort, I was able to latch the clasp again. Then I curled my legs into a ball and held them until my tremors passed.
Simon was right—this was no ordinary necklace. It had power and purpose, and I was its slave. But the necklace itself didn’t terrify me half as much as the consequences for removing it. Lord Endrick had ordered me to keep the necklace on at all times. In disobeying him, I had felt as if his very fist were wrapped around my heart, squeezing it until I could no longer breathe.
There could be only one explanation for that. The heart-shaped pendant was a symbol for what Lord Endrick had really done to me. It all made sense now.
I was an Ironheart.
Anger burned inside me. For my entire life, I’d been loyal to Endrick, obeyed his every wish, and he’d repaid that with control over each beat of my heart. Why me?
Simon probably knew the answer, and for all his help to me, I’d done nearly the same thing to Simon’s heart as Endrick had done to mine.
I was no better than my king. Could I call him a villain and deny the same of myself?
Eventually, I made it into the bathwater, which washed away the sweat and dirt and dust, but did nothing for the hurt I felt inside. I spent most of the bath in tears, for what I’d done to Simon, for what Lord Endrick had done to me and would yet do if I failed to obey him. And I cried because there was obviously something I was expected to do for Antora. Something that would force me to disobey Endrick.
And then he would do to me what always happened to Ironhearts who disobeyed him. He never showed mercy to traitors.
When I began to dress myself, I decided there was only one thing for me to do. I had to get away from the Coracks. Because if I stayed, I would either become Endrick’s weapon or his next victim.
I awoke sometime in the night inside a dim room I vaguely recognized. In the corner, a person stirred.
“Simon?” That was Gabe’s voice.
Someone placed a damp rag over my forehead and told me to stay quiet. I knew that voice too: Tillie. Which meant Gabe had done as I’d asked. I was at Rutherhouse.
A cup of water was offered to me and I took a few sips.
“No poison in this one.” If Gabe thought that was funny, he was wrong. The water made me feel a little better, though the awful taste of metal in my mouth remained.
“We almost lost you.” Tillie was speaking, though my vision was blurry, and I had trouble seeing her. “If Kestra had given you that third leaf, or if you weren’t as strong … but I think you’re past the worst of it now.”
“Where’s—” I cleared my dry throat and accepted another drink of water before trying again. “Where is she?”
“In the back room,” Gabe said. “Closed the door to take a bath and we haven’t seen her since.”
“Go find her.”
“She’ll be asleep.”
“Go find her, Gabe.”
He grunted but left the room.
Tillie turned over the rag on my forehead and leaned in. “That is our Infidante? The girl who will save Antora?” When I didn’t respond, she added, “Gabe told me what you believe happened to her. Can you bring her memories back?”
I shook my head, feeling the weight of having failed her. “Our physician believes her mind has a better chance to heal than if she were only Antoran. She also gave her a tea that was supposed to help.” I rapped a fist against the bed. “But I haven’t noticed any difference.”
“Maybe she needs more time.”
“Maybe. But her memories are only one complication.” I closed my eyes to rest, then said, “I can’t get her back, Tillie. Not as she was before.”