Lady Smoke (Ash Princess Trilogy #2)(103)

“They won’t believe me,” I say, more to myself than to Heron.

He replies anyway. “I think there’s plenty of evidence to support your story,” he says.

I shake my head. “There was plenty of evidence to get S?ren out of the dungeon as well, but King Etristo didn’t listen to it because it didn’t fit the story he needed to tell. He needed S?ren imprisoned to use as a bargaining chip,” I say slowly. “And he’ll have an awful lot to gain by arresting me as well now, especially since most of the suitors have fled. He’s losing money.”

I’m thinking out loud, but I stop there, glancing at the attendant warily. My heart thunders in my chest even harder now than it did with Coltania standing over me. Heron glances at the attendant as well and the color drains from his face. His eyes meet mine and I know the same thought passes between us.

We need more time than we have and there is only one way to fix that.

Heron acts so swiftly I nearly miss it, aided by his Air Gift, no doubt. Before the attendant can even react, Heron has one arm around his neck, crushing the attendant’s windpipe. As the man struggles, he lets go of the crank, which causes the riser to come to a sharp stop that makes my stomach flip. The attendant is bigger than Heron and he fights against him hard, but a measure of peace comes over Heron’s face and he holds on tight until, finally, the man’s eyes close and he goes slack in Heron’s arms.

Heron doesn’t make the same mistake Coltania made with me, though—he doesn’t assume he’s unconscious just because he’s still.

“Can you handle the crank?” he asks me, keeping hold of the operator. “It should be easy, going down instead of up.”

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Instead, I focus on the crank. Even going down, it takes a lot of strength to turn it. I only make it two floors before Heron tells me to stop.

“We’ll get out here and take the stairs,” he says, finally letting go of the attendant’s body. He opens the gate and ushers me out.

It’s only then that I finally speak the thought that’s been nagging at me.

“King Etristo’s lost a lot of money on me,” I tell Heron. “The only way he can make it back is by selling S?ren and me to the Kaiser.”

Heron must have reached the same conclusion, because he doesn’t look surprised. “We have to leave now,” he says.

My heart thunders in my chest, but I manage to nod.

“Yes,” I say. “But not without S?ren.”



* * *



—

Artemisia is waiting in my room, sitting in a chair near the fireplace, when Heron and I hurry in. She turns to me, annoyed at first, but then she takes in my bloody clothing and panicked expression.

Before she can say a word, I tell her everything that happened since I left with Coltania only an hour ago. I’m surprised by how calm my voice sounds, even as I feel nothing but panic inside.

“What do we need, then?” Artemisia asks when I finish, her tone brisk. “Get S?ren. Send news to Blaise. The refugees—we’ll need to find enough ships to carry them. Food to feed them. Weapons to arm anyone who wants to fight.” She ticks the list off on her fingers and my stomach sinks lower with each task.

“There’s no time for all that,” I say, shaking my head. “We can’t do any of it—”

“Not so fast,” she interrupts. A smile spreads over her face, reaching all the way up to her eyes. It’s a rare smile from Artemisia, and every bit as frightening as she is. “Luckily for us, the Sta’Criveran harbor keeps many large trade ships filled with all sorts of things, but primarily food and weapons.”

“So all we have to do is march into the harbor and steal a bunch of ships,” Heron says slowly, looking at her like she’s mad. “There’s no way we’ll be able to do that. There are only three of us—five if we manage to get Blaise and free S?ren, and even that seems like a slim possibility at this point.”

“There will be five of us, with S?ren and Blaise,” Artemisia agrees. “But three of us are Guardians and it’s the dead of night.” She pauses, glancing between Heron and me. “It’s a mad plan, but it could work.”

“I can get S?ren if you can get Blaise and the ships,” I tell them. “Three thousand refugees. That was Erik’s estimate. How many ships will we need?”

Heron shakes his head. “We’d need a fleet, Theo,” he says, voice heavy. “I think even Art would agree that it won’t be possible.”

Artemisia does falter, but her lips purse and her brow furrows and I know that she has a ghost of a plan already.

“What if…,” Heron starts. “I know we don’t want to talk about it, but what if we don’t take all of the refugees. We would only be dragging them into a war most of them won’t be able to fight in. It would be dangerous—”

“Not as dangerous as staying here after King Etristo realizes I’ve gone—and stolen a fleet of his ships and the country’s cheapest workers in the process,” I point out. “He’ll kill them if we don’t take them. I won’t leave anyone behind, whether they want to fight or not. Art, what are you thinking?”

She lets out a low sigh, shaking her head. “There is one option, but it’s a risk that might backfire,” she warns. “We’d need my mother’s help and her crew.”