I nod.
“What do you need us to do?” asks Finnur. Yellow and violet spark around his head.
“We’re ready,” says Rute quietly. “All of us.”
My throat hurts and I hate this—how can I ask them to risk their lives after everything they’ve already been through?
Gulla gives me a frank look.Time is running out.
I take a deep breath, send each of them a swift, hard glance. “After the sun rises again, when the Iljaria queen arrives, my brother means to unleash the Yellow Lord and wipe out Skaanda and Daeros. We can’t let him.”
Rute and Finnur nod. Pór, the Skaandan cellist of about ten, looks determined, while twelve-year-old Gaiana, a Daerosian mathematician, gulps nervously.
“Tomorrow—in a few hours, actually, he’s going to execute innocent prisoners, including the prince and princess of Skaanda and ... and Ballast.”
Gulla’s eyes go wet, and she ducks her head so I won’t see.
“What’s your plan, Brynja?” asks Rute. She jiggles her foot, muscles antsy.
I tell them.
It doesn’t feel like a plan, really. And there’s not much of a chance it will work. But it’s all we have.
Rute will come with me through the ceiling to the dungeons, where we’ll free the prisoners. She’ll sneak most of them into the tunnels to hide, and then go to fetch Kallias’s wives and Princess Aelia and bring them there, too. Then she’ll raid the kitchen and the cellar to keep everyone fed. Gaiana and Gulla will usher the children into the tunnels,while Finnur and Pór go to free the Daerosian army. I don’t like this at all, but Finnur claims he has enough magic to get past a few Iljaria guards.
It’s up to me to talk to Saga, Vil, and Ballast.
We don’t have any time to spare. I give Gulla a quick, fierce hug; then Rute and I scramble up into the vents.
My heart is a riot in my chest as I drop down outside the door to the dungeon. Rute lands beside me and picks the lock with swift efficiency. I’m glad—I’m shaking too hard to be of much use.
Rute starts methodically unlocking all the cell doors and explaining to everyone with quiet urgency what’s going on. Lysandra starts shrieking out demands, but her brothers quickly hush her and join Rute in spreading the word.
I go straight to Vil and Saga’s cell, every nerve on fire. Kallias’s blood cracks stiff on my hand, and just the sight of it makes my head wheel. Why didn’t I stop in my rooms to wash, to change? It’s too late now.
Saga is slumped in the corner, her face to the wall, but Vil lifts his head, watching me. He looks pinched, hungry, and I have the sudden horrifying realization that my brother probably never sent any food down here.
“Brynja,” says Vil. “What do you want?”
Saga jerks around at his words, her eyes flashing. Rage coils off her.
I take a breath. I gnaw on the raw spot in my cheek. I will myself to have courage.
“My brother means to kill you all tomorrow. I’m here to rescue you.”
Saga throws her head back and laughs, then picks up a rock and hurls it at me through the bars. I duck but the rock grazes my face, leaving a raw line of pain in its wake.
“Like Hell You Are!” she shrieks at me.
I gnaw on my lip. “The Yellow Lord is chained in the heart of the mountain.He’sthe weapon my people buried so long ago. My brotherwill make the Yellow Lord kill you, and then, when the sun rises and the Iljaria queen arrives, he’s going to unleash the Yellow Lord wholly, and wipe out all of Daeros and Skaanda. Millions of people are going to die unless you help me stop him.”
“And how exactly couldIhelp theIljaria?” snaps Saga.
I touch one of the iron bars, let its coldness burn me. “I wanted to tell you, Saga,” I say quietly. “I almost did, lots of times. But Indridi—”
Saga stiffens, and Vil drops his eyes to the floor.
“She urged me to keep my secret, as she kept hers. She said—she said—” Grief and helplessness roar within me. “She said it didn’t matter that we were friends. That if I told you I was Iljaria, I would be arrested. Executed.” I chew on my lip. “She was my cousin, you know.”
