CHAPTER 8

VEDA

I awaken to the faint sound of morning bells.

It isn’t a whole ten minutes after the final bell that Imi comes busting into my cell.

“Get up!” she says, not even worrying about being quiet, though she does shut the door. “Here!” And she tosses me what appears to be Basso clothing. Basso boys’ clothing: tan vest, white tunic, brown hat, olive scarf, dingy beige sweater. “Your old pants will have to do; there was no time.”

I nod, scramble to change, because this is it, isn’t it? The plan is being put into motion? Whatever that chaos was up above, it’s keeping everyone busy and distracted.

“What’s going on?” I ask Imi.

She’s rushing around the cell, balling up my old clothing, shoving it into the unused bucket she brought along with her. “The heir … he’s returned.”

“The … the what?” My heart halts, and I freeze where I stand, one arm in the sweater.

“Nico Denali. He escaped the Night. The entire island is celebrating.” I want to stop what I’m doing. Make her explain everything word for word, detail for detail, but there’s no time. Not right now anyway. I force my body to move again. Quickly throw on the sweater and then wrap the scarf around my neck. “Only a few minutes ago, a soldier banged down the door to alert the High Regent; everyone else is preparing. Supposedly there’s a crowd marching up the Hill and to the palace as we speak.” She glares over at me. “Veda—hurry!” And I realize I’ve paused in tying my boots to listen to her, completely caught up in the story, the image of Nico marching toward Imperi Palace. The fact I’m not going to get to see him.

I jump back into action, but the minute I stand up, Imi whisper-shouts, “Wait!”

I stare at her. “What?”

“Your hair. We’ll never get away with it. Not with your hair long like that.”

“I figured I’d tuck it up into the hat.”

She shakes her head no while unsheathing her blade.

My eyes widen.

Sorry, but I don’t happen to have my shears on me.” She cocks an eyebrow. “I’ll be careful.”

I nod. “Right. Okay … just … watch my ears … And my eyes … I need those.”

I kneel down before her so she’s got a good sight of things and is less likely to stab me because she’s moving fast.

Her blade is sharp, and my hair’s grown long. As she chops and slices like she’s working through overcooked, gamy fish, I explain where the nearest den is, how to get there least detected. In a matter of minutes, Imi’s nearly shaved my head, only an inch or two of length all around. She’s left the front a bit longer, how many of the boys wear theirs.

Standing, Imi takes a step back. Pushing her own hair behind her ears, she barely restrains a genuine smile. “Not bad.”

“Well…” I run my hands over my head, look at the long tendrils of fallen hair on the floor surrounding me. “My head feels a lot lighter.”

Imi glances up from collecting hair off the floor. “I bet.”

I shove my hat over my head, and Imi scoops up the rest of the cut hair, adds it to the bucket. Then, dousing it all with a bit of lamp oil, she sets the contents on fire with one strike of a match.

We both stare mesmerized at the bright-orange glow within the blackness of the cave, but the fire goes out fast and we’re left in darkness again.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says, unwinding a thick length of rope from her belt. Imi must see my insulted expression because I just got free of those. She explains they’re only for show. Which, of course, makes sense. What soldier would let her prisoner leisurely stroll around without some sort of assurance he won’t take off or attack? I hold out my hands. “Only until we’re away from prying eyes. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Imi steps in front of me, cracks open the cell door, and looks both ways. “We’ve got to be quick about it. We’ll go out there—” She motions toward the door that leads outside, the one that lets in the Death Shadow dogs. “Then, keeping to the trees, we’ll follow the fence until we reach the gate. I’ve got a key.” I nod. “After that, you just play the prisoner as we make our way to the den.”

“Got it.”

“Not a word.”

“Not a word.”

Leaving my cell is more exhilarating than I ever imagined—and I imagined it a lot. It’s only been fourteen days, but, then again, it’s been fourteen whole days. I’ve not seen anything except those stone walls and shadows, a tray and bucket. And even though the hallway outside the cell isn’t much different—still stone, still dimly lit—I’m freer. Lighter. Breathing more easily.

Imi closes the cell door behind us and locks it. I assume she’s thinking it’ll buy us a bit of time if things don’t go smoothly.

I pray to the Moon and sun both that things go smoothly.

It’s only a few short steps to the door that leads outside. Imi unlocks it, and we squeeze through the small space she’s allowed.

The minute I step outside, I’m blinded. As if someone flipped a switch, the whole world is bright as the surface of the sun. I’ve been living in pure darkness for weeks, my world nothing but a black box.

“Imi … I…” I’m trying to grab for her, force my eyes open because they’ve squeezed shut on their own out of survival.

“What’s wrong?” Her words barely register she’s speaking so softly.

Slowly, I crouch onto the ground to help gain my bearings. “I can’t see a thing.”

“What? Here.” She shoves my hat lower on my head. Then, holding my bound hands over my eyes, I pry one of them open a crack. Fresh tears burst to the surface and stream down my cheek beyond my control, but I’m able to keep my one eye open. Then the other.

My face is wet, my nose is running from the onslaught to my senses, but I’m able to stand. To move. To keep to the plan.

When I squint toward Imi, she shakes her head like she’s sorry. Not that she could have known.

I’m about to tell her this when she stops dead in her tracks. There are Imperi soldiers everywhere. I pull her back into the trees with me.

The soldiers aren’t in the yard where we are, but above in the watchtowers. There are lines of them on the other side of the gate. But they all have their backs to us. I suppose they’re waiting. Hoping to get a glimpse of the heir.

Nico.

If only we could have a minute together.

But that’s not what’s happening right now.

Slowly, step by calculated step, we make our way to the gate.

As Imi fumbles with the keys, she drops them and they give a slight jingle. This sets the dogs off. I’m not sure where they are, on the other side of one of the walls, but they’re not happy and their barks echo over the grounds like we’re back in one of the caves in the Lower.

“Shit,” she swears, forcing the key into the lock and opening the gate. I hesitate, but she pulls me along. “Just come on.”

I don’t expect anything that comes next.

Not the view.

Or the soldiers that stand before us.

Certainly not the smoke that’s settling low like thick fog over much of the island.

Mostly, I don’t expect to see Nico.