Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1)(24)
“I have,” he says. “What you saw in the alman stone—” He starts, then stops, raking his fingers through his hair before trying again. “This weapon has the potential to expose all Moria. My father couldn’t believe the king was capable of that kind of alchemy. Hells, I didn’t want to believe it either. How long have they been developing it? How many have they tested it on? Every time I let myself think about it I want to set the capital ablaze once again.”
Our silence spins like a spider’s web between us. There’s the rush of the river nearby, the cry of night birds, and the thud of my heart, all competing to be heard.
“How much do you really know about it?” I ask.
Dez makes a guttural sound of frustration, and for the first time I see the true fear in his eyes. “They say it started as a ‘cure.’ Or that’s what they called it. A way to control us by removing our power.”
A “cure.” For our magics. Our souls.
“How will we know what to look for when we’re in the palace?” I ask.
He turns to face the pitch-dark path that leads back to our camp. He’s avoiding my stare, and I know that when his mind is set, even I can’t change it. But that won’t stop me from trying. “I have a plan. The king and the Bloodied Prince will never suspect us.”
There’s always venom in his voice at the mention of the prince. The cruelty of the royal family knows no bounds, not even from one another. King Fernando usurped the crown from his own father. Prince Castian is said to have drowned his younger brother in the river that cuts behind the palace. His mother, Queen Penelope, was so inconsolable that she died of heartsickness. Over time, the stories have been changed, twisted, exaggerated, excused. But one story remains the same: For the centuries the Fajardos have ruled, Puerto Leones has grown bigger, stronger, richer, but it has never known peace.
I rest my hands on Dez’s arms. I want to tell him that I feel just as helpless as he does, that we’ll find a way to fight back against these evil men, but I can’t seem to get the words out. A memory lifts from my troubled mind. Delicate hands trace the length of a man’s naked chest. His eyes stare back with a look I can’t quite name. I take a sharp breath and push away the stolen image and Dez at the same time.
“What is it?” he asks.
I crawl to my feet and move a few paces toward the river. My heart rattles in my chest. I should have my mind under control by now. Why won’t the memories stay back? If this keeps happening, it’ll be Esmeraldas all over again. This is too important.
“I’m a liability, Dez. I can’t go on the mission.”
He looks back as if I’ve slapped him. “Ren—”
“It’s one thing if I could fight, but I’m injured. I’ll put you in danger.”
“You won’t have to fight.” He grips my shoulders. His eyes skim past me to the dark water. Why won’t he look at me when he says this? “But your Robári gift is useful.”
“There’s something wrong with my power, Dez.”
“You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened to that boy,” he says. “Any of us would have gone into that house to save him.”
I shake my head and scoff. The words tear through me, angry and bright. “Can you honestly tell me that any of the others would be sorry to see such a weapon turned on me?”
“Is that what’s had you so upset?”
“Yes.” I couldn’t quite parse my feelings until now, but now that I’ve said it I can’t unthink it.
“Don’t ever say that,” he says, anger sharpening his voice. “Don’t ever think that.”
But how can Dez understand? How can he begin to know what it’s like to have curses follow you everywhere, a sibilant kind of guilt? To watch horror dawn on people’s faces when they realize that standing before them is the reason that their father is gone, their sister is dead, their child was taken?
Dez is beloved by the Whispers. The son of Illan, leader of the rebellion against King Fernando. Dez is the one who dared fight Prince Castian in Riomar. We lost the citadela, but Dez and Margo blew up their reserves and allowed for the Moria of the citadela to escape with their lives on stolen ships. Dez is the one who protects his people with his every act.
I shake out of his grip. I have to go—somewhere, anywhere.
“Stay,” he says quickly, softly. “Stay with me, Ren.”
My body betrays me and I stop. My eyes burn with unshed tears. Fear digs into my bones at the uncertainty, the cruelty, of the mission that’s to come. But the anguish in my chest is because of Dez, because I want to stay. Dez wouldn’t use his Persuári magics to compel me. It’s a crime among our people. I’d be able to sense it. That kind of magic is warm against the skin and makes his voice metallic like bells.
This need to be near him and forget everything else is simply us. He’s too free with his heart and I shut down because deep down I know I don’t deserve to have this kind of happiness. The sight of him warps my thoughts; his voice is like an anchor weighing me down. Sometimes, when I’m alone, I wonder if I’ve stayed with the Whispers for the rebellion, to restore the kingdom of Memoria, to find peace. Or if I’ve stayed for him.
Perhaps they are the same thing in the end.
“I know you have your doubts about your power,” he continues in a low voice, as though he’s afraid he’ll startle me away into the forest, “but I have never doubted you. I know we will win this war, Ren.”