Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1)(113)

“Thank you, Leo. Thank her for me.”

“Lady Renata,” he says, and pulls me into an embrace. I breathe in his warmth, his laughter. He brought me back to life in a way I never expected anyone to. I owe him a debt and I promise to repay it. “I hope our paths cross again.”

“I have faith they will.”

“Thank you, Leo,” Sayida says, hugging him, even with her injured arms.

“May the Lady shine bright on your path,” Esteban says, and Margo shakes Leo’s hand.

My feet won’t budge because I am not ready to say goodbye to him.

“What will you do with Méndez?” I ask, buying time.

“I’ll bring him back to his chambers. Someone will find him there. It should give you a head start.”

As we leave the palace walls, I turn around just as he’s about to lock the door.

“You’re wrong, you know.”

“It was bound to happen,” he says, “but whatever about?”

“From where I’m standing, you look like a rebel to me.”





Chapter 27


The fish market is rank with dried guts, and scales glisten on the street like winking mica in a mine. The merchants and mongers are just rising, brushing wooden tables down with lye water.

Cool dry air fills my lungs as we keep to the shadows. The day after the festival has left the streets of the capital reeking of wine, piss, and vomit.

At least we are not alone in our bedraggled states—late-night revelers leave cantinas and brothels that have not stopped the celebrations. The cathedral and palace are looming shadows over us all.

“We have to move quickly,” Sayida says.

I shake my head. “Not on foot. We won’t make it.”

“What do you propose?” Margo asks, her head turned toward a rowdy street. Her fingers trace the hilt of her knife.

“Stay here,” I tell them, and break into a run out of the market and in the direction of the very place we want to get away from.

With the guards in different levels of disarray, this is the best moment we have. The courtyards at both entrances are filled with coaches and wagons, all left unattended. As a Whisper, I’ve learned bits of all trades, but the one I’ve always loved has been spending time with horses.

Or stealing them, rather. I spot two restless stallions with shimmering brown coats attached to a closed carriage. It’s modest enough, most likely belonging to a wealthy merchant or lord. When I approach, I see the Tresoros seal on the carriage—three mountain peaks with a sun at the center—and I know this is a stroke of luck. Lady Nuria won’t report it stolen—I’m sure she’s on our side.

I climb atop the coachman’s seat, click my tongue, pull on the reins, and return to my unit.

They hop into the closed carriage and I jerk the reins, clicking my tongue again until the horses trot. I realize that no matter which way we go, we have to take the main road out. But that means retracing our steps from that awful day. The day that set all this in motion—the day I lost Dez.

As our stolen steeds trot out of the gate, I prepare myself for the bloody path that awaits me. King Fernando likes to display his victorious capture of treasonous rebels by lining the street with their severed heads on spikes. I am thankful that I am not up here alone. I am not ready to find Dez among them. Would I even recognize him at this point?

My heart stutters as a merchant and trade wagon passes us in the opposite direction, and the bloody path that was here two weeks ago is gone. It’s now replaced by the flags of each provincia and major citadela, which line the road alongside the purple-and-gold flags of Puerto Leones. The carriage door swings open, and because I’ve slowed down so much, the others jump out and take in the view. Sayida climbs onto the empty seat beside me.

“They’re all gone,” I whisper as we trot down the empty road.

Sayida nods, cradling her injured arms against her chest. Black ribbons of hair come undone from the braided crown around her head. “For some time now.”

“Why?” It’s not that I want them there on display. But now all I can think about is what they did with them, the heads, Dez. Where is his final resting place?

“This is the main road. I suppose the king did not want to show our foreign visitors his cruelty. It is one thing to hear about the things our king does. It is another to see them. Now he can deny that he is the monster we call him.”

When we get to the end of the road, I stop. Margo and Esteban climb out of the carriage again and the four of us squeeze up on the driver’s seat.

“I’m going to kill him,” I say. I have tasted blood once more, and now there is no going back.

“He does not deserve to take up space in your heart or mind,” Sayida reminds me.

I want to say it doesn’t matter, but as my blood rushes through me, I sit back and grip the reins. Esteban keeps an arm around Margo’s waist. We’re leaving the way we came, only a little worse for wear.

“I support the killing,” Margo says. “But first—Leo didn’t give you any food in that velvet pouch, did he?”

“I’d almost forgotten,” I say. In the rush of getting out of the city, I left it in the cloak pocket. I fish out the small bag and empty the contents onto my palm. Jewelry in three kinds of metals glistens against my skin. Copper. Silver. Gold.