At his core, Jin liked to think he was still the same person that he was a decade ago. Arthie pulled back the curtain and glanced outside as an imposing shadow fell over them.
“The fort,” she whispered, gaze tracking its height.
Birds cried out in the lush trees, chirping tunes he’d never heard in Ettenia. Coconut trees loomed above. They were everywhere, much like the coconuts piled in his parents’ house before it had burned down.Before, when his father had been in search of a way to improve the lives of vampires.
Before he’d joined the Ram.
She looked back at him, and he didn’t need light to see the pity in her eyes. “The plan remains, did you hear me? If we have to lead them out at gunpoint, I’ll do just that. If we have to knock them out and drag them, we will. But we’re here to ruin the Ram’s machine.”
Jin wanted to hate every word spilling out of her mouth, but she was right. This wasn’t about him or his parents. This was about taking down the Ram—tearing down the EJC and her crown in one fell swoop. The woman who killed him. Who treated Flick like she wasn’t worthy of love. Who made Matteo into something he was not. Who ruined Arthie’s homeland and countless more.
And if his parents were a part of it, stealing them away would be an even larger blow to the Ram.
“The fort is huge,” Jin said, trying to contribute. “Where do we even begin to find a sanatorium?”
Arthie was still staring out the window. When the gate opened for the carriages up ahead, she pressed her face to the glass as Matteo slid open the grate and glanced inside, draped in the bloody tint of his umbrella.
“Can you see the sanatorium?” Arthie asked, just as he spoke.
“To the sanatorium, I’m guessing? There’s a sign, believe it or not.”
Hiding in plain sight. Like the Athereum. Like Lady Linden beneath her mask. Like Spindrift.
She nodded. “As close as we can.”
He closed the grate shut again without a tease or grin. He was as nervous as they were—or as Jin was. Arthie didn’t look concerned in the slightest.
The carriage rolled forward again, then again. Voices picked up,barked laughter and snide words as men tried to sound tough in the heavy heat. They were nearing the gate.
“Almost through,” Arthie said, and perhaps it was her words, or the shriek of another devil bird in the trees, but dread coiled tighter in Jin’s stomach.
Something was going to go wrong.
Arthie leaned back, closing the curtain and crossing her wrists, pulling on the apprehended-criminal act she was going to give the guards when they opened the door to inspect inside, and then Jin heard it: the shouts.
They were coming frombehindthem.
Arthie straightened. “Revolver?”
Jin nodded. “I have it.”
Matteo opened the grate. “It’s a guard. He’s—oh, he’s pointing at us.”
“Get us inside,” Arthie insisted. Up ahead, the guards were still waving the line of carriages forward. Matteo inched the horses toward the gate, halting and moving at command. Jin swallowed a growl at their slow progress. Through the window, Jin could see the spiked gate suspended just above them when Matteo halted.
That would be a terrible way to go.
“They stole the captain’s carriage!” came a shout from behind them.
“I think they’re talking about us,” Jin said matter-of-factly. “We need to make a run for it.”
“Arthie? I must say I agree with him,” Matteo called.
Arthie pressed her lips thin, clearly weighing their options. The shouts were getting louder. The guards were coming toward them.
“No,” she said finally. “How far do you think we can get on foot? Press on. We still need to get inside.”
With a grunt, Matteo spurred the horses forward. They protestedagainst him, and Jin spotted a number of guards crowding within the gates. Damned considerate steeds. But Matteo pressed on, nudging guards out of the way until they finally made it inside.
