“I’m hardly sweet,” she protested with a slightly nervous laugh. They ought to be moving, but she could not tear herself away from him.

“I can’t see you very well,” he said. “A blur of color, shadows for eyes, but I know your face even so. I’d know it anywhere.”

“You’re speaking nonsense. Do you know that?”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Simon whispered urgently. “I would never. Never. Not about you. He could have cut on me until the end of time. He could have whispered in my ears until he killed me from the inside out.” He laughed again, but it sounded horribly sad. “It wouldn’t matter. I’d never tell him about you.”

She watched him struggle to his knees, dig for something in his trouser pocket.

“Where is it?” he whispered.

The ship shuddered once more. Rapid gunfire sounded from above; a horrible scraping sound shrieked along the hull.

“Simon, we have to go.”

“Where is it?” He yelled the question, a sob tearing his voice in two. “I lost it; I lost you!”

Then, with a small cry, he pulled a filthy rag from his pocket and held it out for Eliana to see.

“This,” he murmured, “belongs to you.”

She stared at the rag, at a loss. Was his mind breaking at last?

Hovering at Eliana’s elbow, Zahra shook her head. “I cannot see inside him. His thoughts are tangled with storms.”

“I tried to hold on to you.” Simon fumbled to fold the rag into her fingers. Then he lifted their joined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “But I couldn’t. The thread was too strong for me. I was too young for it. And then your mother…”

“My mother.” The Blood Queen. If she believed that. Did she believe it? Tears gathered in her eyes. They didn’t have time for this, but if she moved away, the moment would snap, and she might never find it again. “Simon, what are you saying?”

“We are the only two left, Eliana. You and me. The only two who lived there.”

She ducked down to look at his face. “Where did we live? Tell me.”

“Celdaria.” He drew in a shuddering breath. “I tried to hold on to you, but time tore you away from me. We were only supposed to go to Borsvall. They were going to hide us from him.”

All the air left her lungs. Her mind raced. “From who? Corien?”

“He’ll never touch you. I lost you once, but I won’t ever again.”

She kept her hands folded around the little scrap of rag. Out of all things, she couldn’t move past one tiny question: “But, what is this?”

He looked down at the rag cupped in her palms and smiled.

“Your blanket.” The sorrow in his voice pierced her heart. “She wrapped you up in it, and when the thread ripped you out of my arms, it tore. I’ve kept this piece with me because it reminds me…of everything. Of home. We were so small, Eliana. And then I brought us here, and ruined everything. I failed you. I failed everyone!”

An explosion detonated; the ship rocked, heaving them both to the side.

“Eliana,” Zahra said tightly.

“I know.” Eliana cupped Simon’s face, looked into his ruined eyes. “We’re going to run now, and I can’t carry you. You have to help me. Just like you did before, in—” Her voice caught. Her necklace felt too sharp and cold beneath her shirt. “In Celdaria. Right?”

He nodded, then heaved himself to his feet. She propped him up against her side, slung her arm around his shoulder. Zahra leading the way, they limped out into the corridor and up the narrow stairs. Another explosion sounded, knocking them against the wall. Eliana hissed at the slam of Simon’s hard weight.

“Just give me a moment,” he said, his face tight with pain, “and then I’ll walk on my own.”

“I’m sorry, I know you’re hurt.”

“Don’t apologize to me, Eliana. Not ever.”

When they stepped outside onto the main deck, Eliana stopped cold.

A broad bay flanked with tall, jagged rocks and scattered with small icebergs stretched before them. Two lines of ships faced each other across a narrow expanse of black water choked with flaming wreckage. Beyond the water, crowded with soldiers, a white beach hugged a cluster of night-shrouded hills.

Astavar.

She stepped out from under Simon’s arm, made sure he could stand. “Zahra? Can you hide us?”

Zahra shook her head, mouth in a frustrated line. Her form faded, then flickered back whole. “I don’t think so, my queen.”

Eliana exhaled. “Perfect.”

“Stay close to me, step where I fly. I’ll find the best path I can for you.”

“We survived the end of the world, you and I,” Simon murmured, squeezing Eliana’s fingers. His breath puffed in the air. “We’ll survive this too.”

A chill seized her at his words. Then she tightened her grip on his hand, and they ran.

49

   Rielle

“Onto this bleak and unknown path

Born from loss and paved with wrath

Cast down your heart and light the way

From darkest night to brightest day”

—“The Song of Saint Katell” unknown composer

Rielle stepped inside the Hall of Saints, her heart racing.

This was wrong.

To be in this room, wearing a glittering gown, with Bastien’s body not yet interred in the catacombs, with the kingdom grieving their dead and the loss of their king—it felt thoughtless, even cruel, for this to be the day that the Archon crowned her Sun Queen.

It would have felt cruel even if she hadn’t been the one to kill them all.

But the Archon had insisted upon it.

“Saint Katell’s writings require that the Sun Queen, when she comes, be crowned on a solstice,” he had explained to her the day after the fire trial massacre, her ears still ringing with the sounds of death. “We timed your trials for precisely this reason. You know this, Lady Rielle.”

She’d closed her eyes. A mistake. Every time she did so, she saw Ludivine falling to her death. After days of searching the maze’s smoking rubble, they hadn’t even been able to find her body.

“Yes, I know,” Rielle managed, her voice thick, “but perhaps, given recent events, the Church could—”

“No.” The Archon searched her face. She wondered what he would find. Did he look into her eyes and see what her father had always seen? The soul of a murderer?