Incendiary (Hollow Crown #1)(48)

“They don’t see me when they open the doors. They’ve forgotten I’m here a month now. It is solitary to them.” A buzzing sensation blankets the inside of my head. “The boy you’ve come to avenge. He was here. And then he was taken. Andrés.”

I let go of Lozar and clutch my stomach. I press my hands to the floor and let a cold wave of dread fill me. Dez was here. Of course. They would have shoved him in one of the high-security cells. Of course, I am where he was, but too late.

I get up and run to the door. If I slip my hands through the rectangular slot, I could reach the lock. Would they have had time to change the code in all the commotion? “I can get you out of here.”

Lozar wheezes out a laugh. How can he laugh at a time like this? “I couldn’t find my way through the tunnels, let alone make it to a safe house.”

I breathe hard. I can’t let him die. He’s lived through too much and suffered for too long to let this be it. But if I leave, I’ll lose my best chance at reinstating myself with Justice Méndez. I’ll lose my revenge. My eyes burn, and I blink back the hot tears that threaten to spill.

“I can get you out of here and take you to the Whispers.”

“I am slipping away, Renata.” Lozar coughs for a long time. “He wanted to help me, too.”

I would do anything to hear Dez’s voice again.

Without speaking, Lozar squeezes my left hand, free of cuts and blood, and presses it to his temple, the glow from my scarred fingertips illuminating his pale, weathered face. When someone gives a memory willingly, the magics buzz through my veins, images are easy to find, like low-hanging fruit, ripe and waiting to be plucked.



Black as the longest night.

The click of the locks reverberate in the damp cell. Feet shuffle in the corridor. They are bringing another prisoner. Lozar searches for the far end of the wall and makes himself small. He’s lived his adult life invisible to others.

The door creaks open, the wrenching of metal drowned out by guttural cries and fists hitting flesh. Bodies slap against stone walls. From his corner he has full view of the door, his vision cloudy as warped glass. Two men, one a prisoner in chains, one a guard obscured in shadow.

“You don’t have the right!” the prisoner shouts. His voice is hoarse, as if he’s been screaming all day.

The prisoner grabs the soldier by the collar. Lozar wonders if anyone knows he is still down here.

He flinches as the prisoner is knocked to the ground with a knee to his stomach.

“I have every right,” his captor spits back. Faint flickers of torchlight illuminate a small wooden box in his hands. “I have to do what no one else will.”

Lozar stares at the wooden box, transfixed by the gold etchings across the surface. He knows what’s in there. Knows how valuable it is.

“Liar.” The prisoner rises to his knees, his mouth pulled back to show his teeth. “You’re a monster. Get that away from me.”

“You’ll see the light soon enough,” the other man says, then slams the door shut.

The boy rushes it, pounding his fists as if he imagines it is his captor instead. His exhaustion renders him weak and weary near Lozar’s feet. His body shudders with every breath. A copper cuff around his wrist. He mutters his rage.

“What does Our Lady call you?” Lozar asks.

The boy’s face snaps up at the sound of a voice. But his surprise disappears when Lozar comes closer.

“Andrés,” the boy says. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get out of here.”



I wrench my fingers from his temples, breaking the connection that’s burning new lines of magic across the top of my hands. This is the hardest memory to break free from. Being able to hear Dez once more leaves me shaking. We’re going to get out of here.

“Dez,” I say, sinking back into the sorrow I felt when I first came to, after the execution.

“Dez?” A momentary confusion crosses Lozar’s face as he reaches for his memory where Dez’s name used to be and is now empty. “Is that the boy’s name?”

“Was,” I say softly.

You’ll see the light soon enough, the prince told Dez. That was Castian shoving Dez into the cell in Lozar’s memory. That was him holding the small wooden box that made even Dez flinch, and that was his voice, leaving Dez to his death. Even if I couldn’t see his face well, I know it like I know the hate carved into my own heart. I heard his voice in Esmeraldas. In Dez’s memory of Riomar. Castian was in Celeste’s home. No one can know I was here, he said then. I didn’t understand why Castian would care if he was seen. Then I think of what I saw in the alman stone: Lucia with her blank eyes and strange glowing veins, her lifeless husk of a body, still moving even though her magics had been carved out. Castian wanted to break Dez. He taunted Dez with the weapon before the execution. When will he use it next?

I gave the prince everything he wanted.

I slam my fist into the door.

I feel the pain like nails driving into my arm. Blood runs down my fingers. I stare out the window on the door and watch the flame of the torch crackle. I have to get out of here.

Days ago, I wanted to climb my way up the ranks of the Whispers. I wanted to help get Moria to safe lands while we fought a silent war here. Today, I want to kill Prince Castian, need to kill Prince Castian. I want to see my face reflected in those sadistic blue eyes. Catch him by surprise. Match his violence with my own.