An Ember in the Ashes

“Pull up the center hearthstone,” I say to Laia. “The entrance is beneath. I just have to grab a few things.”

I don’t have time for full armor, but I buckle on my chest plate and bracers. Then I find a cloak and strap on my knives. My Teluman blades are long gone, abandoned on the dais of the amphitheater yesterday. I feel a pang of loss. The Commandant has probably claimed them by now.

 

From my bureau, I pull out the wooden token given to me by Afya Ara-Nur. It marks a favor owed, and Laia and I will need all the favors we can get in the days to come. As I pocket it, someone pounds on the door.

“Elias.” Helene’s voice is pitched low. “I know you’re in there. Open up. I’m alone.”

I stare at the door. She swore fealty to Marcus. She nearly took my head off minutes ago. And from how quickly she caught up to us, it’s clear she came after me like a hound after a fox. Why? Why do I matter so little to her, after everything we’ve been through?

Laia’s gotten the hearthstone up. She looks between me and the door.

“Don’t open it.” She sees my indecision. “You didn’t see her before your execution, Elias. She was calm. Like...like she wanted to do it.”

“I have to ask her why.” I know when I say the words that this will be the life or death of me, what happens now. “She’s my oldest friend. I have to understand.”

“Open up,” Helene bangs on the door again. “In the name of the Emperor—”

“The Emperor?” I yank open the door, dagger in hand. “You mean the lowborn, murdering rapist whose been trying to kill us for weeks?”

“That’s the one,” Helene says. She slips under my arm, her scims still in their sheaths, and hands me, to my astonishment, the Teluman blades.

“You know, you sound just like your grandfather. Even when I was smuggling him out of the damn city, all he could talk about was the fact that Marcus was a Plebeian.”

She smuggled Grandfather out of the city? “Where is he now? How did you get these?” I hold up the scims.

“Someone left them in my room last night. An Augur, I assume. As for your grandfather, he’s safe. Probably making some innkeeper’s life hell even as we speak. He wanted to lead an attack on Blackcliff to set you free, but I convinced him to lay low for a while. He’s clever enough to keep a rein on Gens Veturia, even while in hiding. Forget about him, and listen. I need to explain—”

At that moment, Laia clears her throat pointedly, and Helene draws her scim.

“I thought she was dead.”

Laia grips her dagger tightly. “She is alive and well, thanks. She set him free. Which is more than I can say for you. Elias, we need to leave.”

“We’re escaping.” I hold Helene’s eyes. “Together.”

“You have a few minutes,” Helene says. “I sent the legionnaires the other way.”

“Come with us,” I say. “Break your oath. We’ll escape Marcus together.”

Laia lets out a sound of protest—this isn’t part of her plan. I continue on regardless. “We can figure out how to bring him down together.”

“I want to,” Hel says. “You don’t know how much. But I can’t. It’s not the oath to Marcus that’s the problem. I made another vow—a different vow—one I can’t break.”

“Hel—”

“Listen to me. Right after graduation, Cain came to me. He told me death was coming for you, Elias, but that I could stop it. I could make sure you lived. All I had to do was swear fealty to whoever won the Trial—and hold to that fealty no matter what the cost. That meant that if you won, I’d swear myself to you. If not...”

“What if you’d won?”

“He knew I wouldn’t win. Said it wasn’t my fate. And Zak was never strong enough to stand up to his brother. It was always between you and Marcus.” She shudders. “I’ve dreamt of Marcus, Elias. For months now.

You think I just hate him, but I’m—I’m afraid of him. Afraid of what he’ll make me do, now that I can never say no to him. Afraid of what he’ll do to the Empire, the Scholars, the Tribes.

“It’s why I tried to get Elias to kill you in the Trial of Loyalty.” Hel looks at Laia. “Why I nearly killed you myself. You’d have been one life against the darkness of Marcus’s reign.”

All Helene’s actions of the past few weeks suddenly make sense. She’s been desperate for me to win because she knew what would happen if I didn’t. Marcus would rise and release his madness on the world, and she would become his slave. I think of the Trial of Courage. Can’t die, she’d said. Have to live. So she could save me. I think of the night before the Trial of Strength. You have no idea what I’ve given up for you—the deal I made.

“Why, Helene? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You think the Augurs would have let me? Besides, I know you, Elias. You wouldn’t have killed her, even if you’d known.”

“You shouldn’t have taken that vow,” I whisper. “I’m not worth that much. Cain—”

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