He could have sworn there were claws in his chest, tearing his heart to shreds, so great was the pain.
Not even three feet away, Arthie was surrounded by the Ram’s men. Calibore was clutched in her hand. Matteo ran for her, but Jin couldn’t move.You must. She was his sister, the last of his family.
Jin cocked the revolver and fired at the men charging her, thenfired again. Again. Again. He fired until the cylinder ran out and Matteo rose from the mess of limbs and bodies, blood dripping from his chin. Then it was quiet. The world was roaring around them, but here in this moment, it mourned. It wrapped them in silence. Then his tears fell.
37ARTHIE
Arthie could not cry. She could not feel. She stumbled away from Jin’s tears and Flick’s sobs beside him. Arthie could not afford that luxury.
She had failed them.
She had shut down the weaponization of vampires in Ceylan, she had torched the entire fortress, but none of those victories rang true without the Siwangs—the two people they’d sailed across the ocean to retrieve, the two people Jin had spent half his life waiting for.
They had promised to be her family.
Arthie wanted to drop to her knees. She wanted to scream. She did none of those things. How could she? She was a lighthouse at sea, unmoving, unflinching, sought out in the darkness, and the others needed her.
She needed to be strong. So why, then, when Matteo grabbed her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, did Arthie allow it? She crumbled beneath his touch. She melted into his arms.I’m sorry, he was whispering over and over as the battle raged just beyond the cover of the wall. The gray skies darkened, mourning with them. Arthie needed to get back out there. She needed to fight. To dosomething, but she was so tired, so weak. So—
I’ll see you at the tribute.
As Arthie replayed those words in her mind, she caught the utter pleasure with which the Ram spoke them. The joy she had taken inkilling Jin’s parents, for she not only wanted to ruin their plans but Arthie and Jin too. She wanted to break them. It was what she’d done with Spindrift, first by threatening to close it, then when she burned it down altogether. It was what she’d done time and time again.
No more. The Ram wouldn’t need to wait until the tribute. No, she would see Arthie now. Because Arthie knew exactly what they needed to prepare for the Ram’s big event.
Arthie pulled away from Matteo, and when he looked in her eyes, he saw her resolve. His low chuckle stirred her blood. “There’s my Enchantress.”
She looked away, her eyes falling to Jin’s parents, to Flick wringing her hands and Jin in shock, his umbrella lying on the cobblestones like an afterthought. She dropped to her knees in front of him, and the sea breeze stirred Shaw’s scent, sending a wave of sorrow through her.
She took the Council calling card from her pocket. “Jin. Jin, look at me.”
He lifted blank eyes to hers. He was that eleven-year-old boy again, stumbling out of the fire. Alone. Afraid. Hurting so much. “They’re gone, Arthie.”
“I know,” Arthie said, swallowing the knot that lodged in her throat. “I know. Look at me. She thinks she’s won. She’s trying to break us.”
“Hasn’t she?” he asked, hysteria creeping into his voice.
“No, she’s distracting us and we can’t let that happen.” She was aware she was calling Jin’s parents’ death a distraction, but in a horrible, twisted way, it was true. She pressed the coin into Jin’s palm. “Your father gave it to me. Present this to a Horned Guard minister, and they’ll take you to the Council.”
Jin wiped at his eyes. “For what, Arthie? They’re all the same.”
Arthie stared at Jin’s parents, and she could not disagree. “Whatever they are, they’re masked. Take Flick. She can study them and forge usone, because if anyone can get close enough to the Ram during the tribute, it’s them. With a mask of our own, we’ll take one of their spots.”
Jin’s head bobbed, his eyes drifting to his parents again.
“Jin,” Arthie said, her voice hard. Part of her wanted to grab his shoulders and shake him, the other part wanted to weep beside him. She had promised to take care of his parents. She had promised him and failed, and now she wasn’t even letting him mourn. “I’m trusting you, Jin.”
He flicked his gaze to hers then, surprised by her admission, and finally nodded.
Arthie rose with a deep breath.
Matteo narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you going to—wait, Arthie, where are you going?”
Arthie stopped beyond the wall and clenched her jaw at the chaos. “I’m going to buy us time. Get him to a minister—”
Matteo nodded. “I know one.”
“Good. Don’t come for me. I’ll meet you at the tribute.” Before he could make sense of her words, she ran from the newly minted graveyard, from the death forever seared in her mind, and disappeared into the fray.
