An Ember in the Ashes (Ember Quartet #1)(129)

I touch the wound at my neck—a few inches more, and I’d have been dead. She’d trusted the Augurs with everything—her life, my life. But then, that’s who Helene is: Her faith is steadfast. Her loyalty. Her strength. They always underestimate me. I’d underestimated her more than anyone.

Cain and the other Augurs saw it all. When he told me I had a chance at freedom of body and soul, he knew he’d force me to pick between keeping my soul and losing it. He saw what I would do, that Laia would free me, that we’d escape. And he knew that in the end, Helene would swear fealty to Marcus. The vastness of that knowledge staggers me. For the first time, I catch a tiny glimpse of the burden the Augurs must live with.

There is no time to wonder at such things now. The barracks doors creak open, and somebody barks orders. Legionnaires, tasked with sweeping the school.

“After I escape,” I say. “Break the oath then.”

“No, Elias. Cain kept his promise. I’ll keep mine.”

“Elias,” Laia warns softly.

“You forgot something.” Helene lifts her hands and pulls at my mask. It clings tenaciously, as if it knows that once it’s off, it will never get a chance at me again. Slowly, Hel rips it free, rending the flesh of my neck as the metal releases. Blood pours down my back. I hardly notice it.

Footsteps echo in the hall. A mailed hand clanks against the door. I have so much left to say to her.

“Go.” She shoves me toward Laia. “I’ll cover you this last time. But after this, I belong to him. Remember, Elias. After this, we’re enemies.”

Marcus will send her after me. Perhaps not right away, perhaps not until she’s proven herself. But eventually, he will. We both know it.

Laia ducks into the tunnel, and I follow. When Helene reaches for the hearthstone to pull it over me, I grab her arm. I want to thank her, apologize to her, beg her forgiveness. I want to drag her down here with me.

“Let me go, Elias.” She puts soft fingers to my face and smiles a sad, sweet smile that’s mine alone. “Let me go.”

“Don’t forget this, Helene,” I say. “Don’t forget us. Don’t become like him.”

She nods once, and I pray that her nod is a promise. Then she takes hold of the stone and pulls the hearth closed.

Ahead of me, Laia inches forward, her hand outstretched as she feels her way through the dark. Seconds later, she drops from my tunnel into the catacombs with a startled yelp.

For now, Helene can cover for us. But when order is restored at Blackcliff, Serra’s ports will shut down, the legionnaires will bar the city gates, and the streets and tunnels will be flooded with soldiers. The drums will beat from here to Antium, alerting every guardhouse and garrison that I’ve escaped. Rewards will be offered; hunting parties will form; ships, wagons, caravans will all be searched. I know Marcus and I know my mother. Neither will stop until they have my head.

“Elias?” Laia doesn’t sound afraid, just wary.

The catacombs are tomb-black, but I know where we are: in a burial chamber that hasn’t been patrolled in years. Ahead of us are three entrances, two that are blocked and one that just looks blocked.

“I’m with you, Laia.” I reach out and take her hand. She squeezes it.

I take a step, Laia close beside me. Then another. My mind ranges out, planning our next moves: Escape Serra. Survive the road north. Break into Kauf. Save Laia’s brother.

There will be so much more in between. So much uncertainty. I don’t know if we’ll survive the catacombs, let alone the rest of it.

But it doesn’t matter. For now, these steps are enough. These first few precious steps into darkness. Into the unknown.

Into freedom.