Allied (Ruined #3)(18)

“I think he’s in the gardens,” Carmen said.

Olivia whirled around and walked down the block, to the small plot of land near the park. She spotted Aren as she approached the gate, on his knees, pulling weeds from in between the vegetables.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He sat back on his heels, wiping his forehead with his arm as he turned to her. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Why are you weeding the humans’ garden?”

“It helps to keep me from ripping your head off instead.” He leveled his gaze with hers, as if daring her to try him.

Rage swelled in her chest. She was supposed to be a hero to the Ruined, and Aren dared to make her feel like she was doing something wrong. Like she was the bad one, just because she didn’t like people who had murdered and exiled her people.

“Tell me how you do it,” she demanded.

“What?”

“The humans. How do you pull energy from them?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just happened one day with Iria.”

“Was she the only one? Did you try it on anyone else?”

He turned back to the weeds and yanked another one out of the ground. “She’s not the only one. It worked with others.”

Olivia angrily kicked a rock. Part of her had been hoping it was Iria who was special, not Aren.

“Tell me how you do it.”

“I told you I don’t know.” He sat back on his heels and met her gaze. “But even if I did, I’d never tell you.”

She curled her fingers into fists. Her Ruined magic burned in her veins, and she let it loose. Aren’s hand flew off the weed and straight backward, knocking him right in the face.

He shot her a venomous look. She smiled smugly and turned on her heel.

Her entire body froze. Every bone and muscle was no longer in her control.

“Careful, Olivia,” Aren said.

A chill ran through her body as he released her. She wanted to turn and glare at him, maybe break his nose this time, but she was worried that shock was plastered across her features. She couldn’t have controlled Aren’s entire body. Just taking hold of his hand required intense effort.

But he’d done it like it was nothing.

Aren watched as Olivia stomped away from the gardens. He waited until she was out of sight, and then stood, grabbing his bag of weeds and tossing it in the pile with the others.

He started down the road. His house was to the west, which wasn’t a coincidence. West was Olso. West was Iria.

He couldn’t see Olso, of course. It would take days to cross the jungle by horse, and then he’d be faced with a heavily guarded border.

But still, Iria was west, and the first day they arrived, he’d headed west and almost just kept going. It had taken all of his willpower to stop himself from grabbing a horse and riding there. She was certainly in prison by now, and he’d promised to save her. He would save her.

But he couldn’t ask Em to let him leave Lera right now. She needed him if she was going to stop Olivia from killing everyone. Olivia’s priority was to take over Lera; Em’s priority was to stop her. He knew Em wanted him to save Iria, but they both knew he had time. Olso didn’t execute people.

Aren kicked a rock, wishing he’d protected Iria when he had the chance. If Olivia hadn’t attacked him and Iria, he would have had the strength to stop the warriors.

If he hadn’t been so stupid and left her, maybe she wouldn’t have been taken at all. Iria was mad at him for trying to leave her in Lera, and he couldn’t blame her. Maybe if he’d stayed with her, she would have been by his side the whole time.

Laughter drifted over from the bakery, and he glanced up. Olivia and Jacobo sat at the tables with Ester, Priscila, and a few other Ruined, which meant the humans in the courthouse were unattended.

He took a quick turn, looping around and taking the long way to the courthouse. He grabbed four apples from the produce stand, which he’d replenished himself that morning.

Oak Street was deserted, and he jogged up the steps and walked into the building. It was empty, the desk in the middle of the room bare, and the door to the left slightly ajar. He stepped forward and slowly pushed the door open.

Six cells stretched out in front of him, four of them occupied. A woman to the left, and a man to the right. He stepped forward. Another woman, another man.

He didn’t know what exactly he’d planned to say to them, so he just slipped an apple through the bars into each cell. The woman in the rear cell didn’t roll over in bed. The other three humans stared, their faces full of venom. An apple didn’t mean much when they were imprisoned and had their lives threatened daily by Olivia.

His legs felt shaky suddenly. He sank to the ground, his back to the wall in between the two women’s cells. He drew his knees to his chest and rested his forehead on them.

Tears spilled down his cheeks. He couldn’t rescue anyone. Not Iria, not the people in these cells, not the Ruined who were terrified of Olivia.

It had been easier when he hated everyone. Back when they’d first rescued Olivia, walking to the Ruina border with her and Em, discussing plans for the Ruined. Aren had thought they’d never see Cas or Iria or any of them ever again. Now he wasn’t sure how he’d ever stirred up that much hate.

He tried to think of what his mother would say in this situation. Maybe: Your gifts only take you so far. Use your head. Or: You can’t control the actions of everyone around you, but you can control how you respond. Or even: Have faith, Aren. Do your best and everything will work out in the end. None of it seemed right. Even his talkative, lecture-prone mother might have been speechless in this situation.