Chapter Forty-Three

“Amillion thanks for the meal, Mrs. Castille,” Nicole murmured after she had drained the last dregs of her tea. With a deep sigh, she set down the cup with a delicate clink upon its painted saucer. “And the bleach, of course.” She ran her fingers through her hair, the black lightened to an uneven blond. The strands crackled suspiciously, but there wasn’t much else to do about it until she returned to Axaris. With Lux as her steed and the hirelings potentially still tailing her, the less she looked like the Queen of Axaria, the better.

Casper’s mother wrung her hands anxiously, her red-rimmed eyes still puffy from bereaving. “Are you certain you’d rather not stay the night? Axaris is such a long journey to make on your own. It’ll take you at least three full days of riding from Oprehvis.”

Little Genevieve piped up. She had the same pale silk-gray eyes as her older brother. “Mama, Nicole is an Elite! She’s not afraid of the dark.” Those eyes turned on her, wide and innocuous. “Or monsters. Right?”

“Only sometimes,” said Nicole.

“Not only that. There have been . . . whisperings.” Mrs. Castille shifted uneasily, casting a glance at her daughter, and lowered her voice. “Of a malevolent spirit possessing the bodies of Oprehvans. Of officers killing one another for the medallions on their uniforms, of children murdering their parents for the last slice of cake.”

Nicole frowned. Such unwarranted violence . . . it reminded her of the Chaos in Axaria. Perhaps . . . perhaps not only the Chaos had escaped the crypt? “I’ll be careful, Mrs. Castille,” she promised, pushing herself out of her seat.

“Wait,” cried Genevieve. Nicole waited, but the girl suddenly shied beneath her gaze. “Um . . . my brother . . .” She bit her lip, her words failing her.

Nicole squatted, eye level with the girl. “Casper talked about you a lot, you know. He said you’d taken up wrestling.”

Genevieve nodded. “I’m going to be strong like him when I grow up.”

Nicole smiled. “Somehow, I have a feeling you’ll be stronger.”

Mrs. Castille came over to thread her fingers in her daughter’s hair, full of motherly pride. “She wants to become an Elite like him, too.”

Nicole’s smile froze. Her voice died in her throat. Fortunately, Genevieve hugged her goodbye before the silence stretched on too long.

Mrs. Castille saw her to the door. “Safe travels.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Nicole told her. “With Casper’s death benefit.” Although Mrs. Castille worked a steady job as a tutor, the money would still go a long way. It always did.

As Nicole stepped into the night, Mrs. Castille bowed her head, tears glistening in her eyes. “Nicole . . .”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Yes?”

“My son . . . tell me that his death wasn’t wasted.”

Nicole’s throat ached. She thought of the queen, whisked away to a foreign kingdom halfway across the globe to visit her beloved. She thought of Gino and Casper and everything else they had almost lost. Eventually, she found it in herself to reply, “The death of an Elite is never wasted.”

It rang hollow in her own ears, but Mrs. Castille only nodded in gratitude.

Outside the Castilles’ cozy villa stood Lux, tethered to a picket and waiting patiently, his coat gleaming oil-black in the light of the stubby torches dotting the front garden. The stallion greeted Nicole with a whicker as she unhitched him and led him toward the road that would lead them back to Axaris. Soon they were racing the stars.

For days she had lain low on the outskirts of Orielle. After everything had gone to hell, she had been forced to flee the city and wait until reinforcements arrived. Unsurprisingly, it was not easy smuggling three horses and a body around.

Once Hayley and Laurel found her, they departed with two of the horses to deliver Gino’s body to his family. Meanwhile, Nicole had to travel to Oprehvar to pay her respects to Mrs. Castille with nothing but kind words.

Through it all, she had refused to let her grief cloud her focus, or for exhaustion to hinder her purpose. She was an Elite, and she had been trained to soldier on. To sustain herself on strength and grit and determination alone. To serve the crown. To honor. To protect.

She had known Gino for three years, and Casper for five. Their absence gaped like a pit in her stomach. All of the Elites spent almost every day sharing a piece of their lives with one another, and any loss affected each and every one of them.

There was never a place for mourning on duty, but her work here was done. The road stretched ahead, and home was still a kingdom away.

So when the night bled past and even the moon mantled its witness in a veil of clouds, Nicole put her head down into Lux’s mane and released the near-silent sob trapped in her chest. And then—and only then, with her hood pulled low and the shadows hiding her face, did she finally allow her heart to break.

At dawn the next day, she paid for cheap lodging in Aldville, already two-thirds of the way back to Axaris. No way could she have ridden as intensely on any other steed, but Lux trampled all of her expectations in the dust. Without anyone to hold him back, the Iphovien stallion hit speeds that blurred the ground into stillness. The legends about the fastest horse in the world made sense now. Supposedly, Lady Reyva, bringer and goddess of wind, rode in a chariot pulled by a team of winged Iphoviens. The strength from their wingbeats alone were said to be able to cause anything from devastating hurricanes to fluttering breezes that carried seedlings across lands far and wide.

By late afternoon they were back on the road, the bright fields of Axarian poppies waving them past and the Ljre River their shimmering aquamarine companion. Lux had no choice but to slow for the increased foot traffic clogging the roads near the capital, snorting and doing his best to weave around the more sluggish congregations. Eventually, Nicole resigned herself to the knowledge that they likely wouldn’t arrive back to the capital until after dawn.

The shriek of a hawk pierced the air. Nicole glanced up to see its silhouette skimming the sun, its magnificent wings tapering to individual feathers that resembled slender fingers from below. It circled above her, the sleek plane of its body tilting to adjust to her course. She halted Lux on the side of the road and squinted at it, startling when it tucked in its wings and dove . . . at her. With every flap, it accelerated, and she scrambled to find something to protect herself with, but came up with nothing. Gritting her teeth, she turned sideways with her left arm outstretched without a glove to shield her flesh. It footed her, hooked talons tearing into her skin—but she was already distracted by the roll of parchment tied to its leg.

Her eyes widened. This is Jack’s hawk, she realized. Fingers fumbling, she hurried to loosen the knot with her right hand. The hawk let out a shriek right beside her ear and she raised it away from her face reflexively, wincing—and immediately regretted the action when the hawk interpreted it as a cue to take off into the blue.

Nicole cursed silently. Lux snorted and shook his mane haughtily, as if to say birdbrain. She just didn’t know if he was referring to the hawk or herself.

With a sigh, she transferred the note to her left hand and rummaged in her pocket with the other, pulling out her affinity stone to heal her cuts.

Her eyes narrowed in concentration. “Haelein.” Healing had never been her strong suit, so it would take at least a few minutes for her magic to mend the thankfully shallow gouges. In the meanwhile, she eased Lux into a walk and pulled the note open. Her heartbeat stuttered as she scanned its barely legible contents—scribbled, as if in extreme haste.

Nicole reread the note twice through in disbelief, her mind whirling. She clenched her fists around the reins and stared at the horizon just as the outskirts of the capital rose into view.

Almost. Almost within reach. She was grief-stricken and worn down to the bone. All she wanted was her bed and the familiar walls of the barracks sheltering her head.

Go anywhere but home.

She could risk it. She could probably evade the guards long enough to reach the palace, break in, and free the others. But if she failed . . .

You are her primary suspect.

Nicole cussed loudly. Loud enough for the man pulling a hand-drawn cart in front of her to shoot her a glare over his shoulder—although his attention quickly snapped elsewhere upon glimpsing the wrath in her expression.

Her decision made, she wheeled Lux around and cut onto the opposite side of the road.

As she turned her back on Axaris, she closed her eyes.

How had everything gone so terribly wrong?