Page 79 of Heart’s Rescue

Torchlight. One, two, three. Five. Seven. A dozen? The lights bob and weave together, blinding as they pour through the gate, making it impossible to count them all.

“Rowan Sans Evenworth.”

The voice fills the garden, bouncing off the walls and trees and gravel path. My throat feels tight and narrow as I watch one man step out from the swirling chaos of lanterns and walk toward Rowan. He’s wearing a sword, I notice. A sword and a dagger. Behind him, the lanterns arrange themselves into two neat rows.

Rowan takes a step toward the man. Away from me. My chest is so tight I don’t think I can breathe.

“Trying to kick down the door we’ve been holding open for you?” the man asks.

Torchlight flashes off the sword at his waist. Aloserin, my mind offers. He’s the man who came to Rowan's house. That’s the voice I heard when I was locked in the pantry.

“My pleasure,” Rowan replies. “I’ll happily test your defenses anytime, oh Acting Captain of the Royal Guard. But I’ll have to warn you, I charge a pretty penny.”

I shift backward; a stick snaps under my heel. What in the stars is he trying to do? Don’t antagonize them, I want to scream. Beg, Rowan. Beg for your life!

Aloserin raises his hand, and my entire body goes cold. But he’s not reaching for his sword. He lifts his fingers to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head.

“Rowan, Rowan, Rowan,” Aloserin says. “What is wrong with you?”

“Happy to tell you all about it,” Rowan replies, and for some insane reason he’s moving away from me, moving closer to the men with the swords. “But only if you buy me dinner first.”

One of the men behind Aloserin draws his sword. The hiss of metal against leather slides through the air. I lurch forward, crashing through the branches of the tree. Light washes over my face.

“He’s not alone!” someone yells.

Darkness explodes from the gravel at my feet. Screams echo off the walls. Rowan leaps forward, and even from here, I can see the blue fire pouring from his eyes. There’s a clattering of feet against stone, weapons drawn from their sheaths, and screaming. So much screaming.

Aloserin steps into Rowan's arms like he’d just been waiting for the right moment. Someone runs past me; the momentary flash of a lantern light blinds me. I shake my head.

When my vision clears, I see Aloserin. Just Aloserin. The magic tendrils that had shot from the ground at my feet are gone. There’s a small, crumpled bunch of fabric at Aloserin’s feet, but surely that’s too small to be—

Blue magic swirls around the figure at Aloserin’s feet. It slowly lifts into the air, one pale, open palm winking up at the enormous gates we were supposed to open together.

“Where do you want him?” someone asks.

No. No, stars, no! I think of bodies rotting along the palace walls, those sad little humans who’d tried to cross our king. I think of Phaedron sitting in that neat cottage at the World’s End waiting for the brother who’d saved his life to come home. I think of Rowan, of the way he smiled when I figured out his chart. The way he laughs when he’s not expecting to, when I manage to surprise him. The way he’d looked at me after pulling me out of the frozen river. The way he’d said we could break into the palace to get the flowers to save my life.

“No!” I scream.

I shove my way through the tree and stagger onto the gravel path. The light from a dozen lanterns flashes in my eyes.

“I’m from the Worlds Above,” I yell as I tug at the fastening on the cloak Rowan wrapped around me an entire lifetime ago.

The fastening gives. The cloak falls in a heap at my feet. I spread my arms wide, the universal sign of mercy, of surrender, and then I turn to look at each of the burning lanterns in turn.

“Let Rowan go,” I say, “and I’ll give your king my heart.”