Reign of Shadows (Reign of Shadows, #1)(26)

“It’s all right, love.” Sivo’s large hand patted my back. “We will be fine.”

It was with that assurance that I knew we would not be fine. The tower was no longer hidden. We were no longer hidden.

Our world had changed.

I sat near the fire, my hands folded tightly in my lap. It was the only way to keep them from shaking—or hide the fact that they shook at all. I focused on stilling all of me, listening as Madoc’s cries turned to muffled sobs and then nothing at all.

Perla emerged from the room. “He’s asleep. I put a sleeping draft in with the nisan tea.”

I envied him the oblivion of sleep. I thought of Dagne below, broken and lifeless near the door we never used.

Except today we had opened the door.

Perla moved beside my chair, and the earthy musk of herbs and baked bread enveloped me. She rested her thick, chapped palm on my shoulder.

I reached up to pat her hand.

“They’ll be back,” Sivo announced.

“You can’t know that,” Perla objected, a sharp, defensive ring to her voice.

“They’ve found the tower now. They’ll tell others. Either they’ll be back or someone else will. And that commander . . . he recognized me.”

“What?” Perla demanded. “Did he say—”

“He couldn’t place where. He must have been a very young boy when I worked in the palace, but mine isn’t the easiest face to forget.” He was referring to his heavy beard. He’d always had it. According to Perla it was ginger bright. “He’ll remember. Eventually.”

And when he did, he would tell the king that he had seen one of the dead king’s guards. He would send soldiers back based on that alone. I could feel it all unraveling. The safe little world we had built was falling apart, stone by stone. The secret of me, my identity—it was one breath from being exposed.

Perla moved her hand from my shoulder and crossed the wood floor, sinking into a chair at the table with a rattling sigh.

Sivo continued, “They’ll do what they did to Dagne to each of us—”

“Don’t say that!” Emotion shook Perla’s voice.

A hushed silence fell over the room, the pop and crackle of the fire the only sound. Fowler said nothing. I wondered if he even cared. Sivo was skirting the truth of our identity, saying more about us than he ever had before in Fowler’s presence. He must feel confident that Fowler would not guess. Or perhaps he simply trusted him now.

I moistened my lips, searching for an answer—a way out of this. A solution didn’t present itself and I had to face the truth. There might not be one.

We lived in this tower and now those soldiers knew of its existence. They would report what they had found and when the king realized who Sivo was, they would be back.

“Luna can’t stay here.” Sivo’s announcement was softly worded but no less grim.

Perla didn’t react at first. No one did. Then she finally snorted. The sound was part laugh, part grunt, but entirely dismissive. She did not take Sivo’s words seriously. “You’re being ridiculous. You want us to leave? I can’t leave this place. I would not survive a day. And Luna? You want her to go out there? How long will she survive? She cannot see, Sivo! No. Our chances are much better here.”

“I’ve trained her well. She goes.” Sivo’s voice was firm and unyielding. “And I said nothing of us going.”

My heart pounded in my suddenly too-tight chest. Words hung on my lips, but I could think of nothing to say. To leave the sanctuary of the tower and exist on the Outside was equal parts terrifying and thrilling. To leave Sivo and Perla, however? No. I could never do that.

I turned my face in the direction of Fowler. He’d made so little sound up to this point that I could almost believe he left the room, if not for the sensation of his eyes on me.

“You want her to go out there without us?” Perla’s tone left no doubt how absurd she thought that plan was.

“You said it yourself, Perla. You won’t survive.”

“No! Absolutely not! She stays—”

“They’ll come back. And when they do, when they discover her, they will kill her. You know that, Perla.” I’d never heard Sivo speak to her in such a way—so hard and final. Usually, he let her have her way, but not in this.

“You know what they can do,” he continued, his words heavy with the implication, with the reminder of who they were. Who I was.

Perla sucked in a raw breath, and I knew she was remembering, too. They were the king’s men—and he had killed my parents. He was supposed to believe I perished that night, too. If he suspected otherwise . . .

They had killed Dagne. They would kill me, too. Of that, I had no doubt.

“Perhaps,” Perla allowed, stubbornness lacing her voice. “But I’m not letting her go out there by herself—”

“She won’t be alone,” Sivo countered.

I suddenly found my voice. “What do you mean?” Did Sivo intend to go with me? He couldn’t leave Perla here. She wouldn’t be able to fend for herself without his help.

“She goes with him,” he said evenly, calmly. As though it were the obvious solution. Him. I didn’t need to see to know he was talking about Fowler. I even felt them looking at Fowler now. “He’ll take her with him to the Isle of Allu.”