Page 60 of Hearts Lost

King Galan sighs, then comes to his feet so abruptly that I jump. He laces his hands behind his back and rocks forward on his toes.

“Ithronel,” the king begins, “I want to make you an offer. But first, please understand what I can and cannot promise.”

An offer? My breath catches in my throat. What does King Galan have that I want? What could he possibly hold over my head?

The answer slides into my mind like a steel blade.

He has Aloserin, of course.

“I want you to work with us,” Galan says. “Yes, we are taking down the barrier between the Worlds Above and the Lands Below. Lythienne even thinks we might be able to use those weapons from Grathgore to do so. But you’re the only person down here who’s ever used them. We need your expertise. Ithronel, we need your help.”

Galan stares directly at me. The firelight winks off his golden circlet and hard, dark eyes. I realize I’m holding my breath, waiting. He’s given me the motivation. Where is the punishment for failure? Galan takes a breath, and something inside me braces as though I’m expecting to be hit.

“I can’t promise safety for your sister,” Galan says. “But I can promise that we will try our best to reach her, and to offer her sanctuary.”

Wait, what? I blink in confusion. To reach my sister? How in the stars’ many names would the King of the Fall ever reach one of King Grathgore’s magicians? The Kingdom of the Summer’s magicians are locked up tighter than the kingdom’s treasure vaults, as the saying goes.

No. What King Galan is saying isn’t possible. This must be one of those king’s promises, the kind they say will buy you an ale as long as you’ve got a silver piece too.

Which must mean he’s going to make me say the hard part out loud. I have to name the stick he could use to beat me, my motivation and my punishment all wrapped up together.

“I have one condition,” I say.

Galan and Orryen both turn to me, and I have the strange, fleeting impression that Galan finds all of this somehow amusing.

“You have to let Aloserin go,” I say. I try to ignore the way my voice cracks when I say his name. “Let him out of whatever dungeon he’s in, drop whatever charges you’re holding him on. And then, yes, I’ll cooperate.”

The corner of King Galan’s mouth twists into an expression that reminds me rather painfully of Aloserin.

“I agree,” the king finally says. “Deal?”

He extends his hand, and some cold, bitter part of me wonders if I’ll ever be able to watch that gesture without thinking of Aloserin using his magic to destroy me.

I swallow the thought, come to my feet, and take King Galan’s offer.