CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Leaving the unconscious Torell in Rhess’s hands, Kiva approached Tipp, keeping her movements slow.
“You j-just — you just healed him,” he breathed, his blue eyes wide, his face white but for the streak of blood coming from his temple. “You w-were glowing. Y-You have magic.”
“Not just any magic,” Zuleeka said, having followed Kiva. She removed her Viper mask and declared, “Corentine magic.”
Kiva looked at her sister in horror.
“It’s not like he won’t figure it out,” Zuleeka defended.
With his hands still tied behind his back, Tipp rose on wobbly legs, his
lips trembling as the betrayal hit him.
“Tipp,” Kiva whispered.
“You’re a C-Corentine?” he rasped. “As in T-Torvin Corentine? And — And T-Tilda Corentine?”
Still whispering, Kiva said, “Tilda was my mother.”
Tipp gaped. “The Rebel Queen w-was your mother? But — what d-does that m-mean?”
“It means the whole time you thought she was cozying up to your friends at the palace, she was actually plotting their ruin.”
“Zuleeka,” Kiva snapped. “Shut up!” She then hurried to tell Tipp, “It’s not like that. That’s not the whole story.”
But the damage was done. There was no taking back what Tipp had seen, what Zuleeka had said, and Kiva didn’t have the first clue how to prove she wasn’t the villain.
Because that was certainly how Tipp was looking at her, his eyes filling with tears.
“I can explain,” Kiva said, her voice — and her heart — breaking at the look on his face.
“Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that right now,” Zuleeka said.
And in one quick move, she lunged forward and slammed the hilt of her
sword against the back of Tipp’s head.
Kiva caught him before he could crumple to the ground, her gaze furious as she looked at her sister and shrieked, “What the hell?”
“He’s a liability,” Zuleeka said unapologetically.
“He’s an eleven-year-old boy!”
“Exactly,” Zuleeka said. “Until we figure out what to do with him, he’ll need to stay with us. With the rebels. We can’t have him telling your royal friends about you, can we?”
Kiva was so enraged that she couldn’t form words, and instead she reached for her magic again, wanting to heal Tipp’s concussion — his second concussion — but Zuleeka touched her arm, breaking her focus.
“Don’t,” she said. “It’ll be easier to move him like this.”
“He’s not going anywhere with you,” Kiva spat.
“Think, Kiva,” Zuleeka said, losing patience. “If he goes back to the palace, do you really believe he’ll keep his mouth shut? You trust him that
much?”
“Yes,” Kiva said without hesitating.
But then she recalled the way he’d looked at her, and the doubts began to creep in.
Caldon had discovered her identity before he’d ever really known her, so he’d never felt betrayed, since he’d been aware all along. Tipp, however . . .
Kiva had kept her secret from him for three years. And worse, he now knew she’d been planning to hurt the Vallentis family — people he loved enough to paint them into his family portrait. If made to choose, Kiva wasn’t sure what Tipp would do, not while he was so upset.
“I can see you’re working this out, sister,” Zuleeka said, her voice gentling. “Don’t worry, he’ll be safe. And tomorrow you can explain everything and see where his loyalties lie.”
“Tomorrow?” Kiva croaked.
“The masquerade starts in less than an hour. We intercepted the Mirravens’ messages, so no one at the palace knows what happened today, but if you don’t want your prince to start wondering where you are, you need to get back to the palace.”
“I’m not going to a stupid party while Tipp —”
“I suggest you avoid mentioning any of this to Jaren,” Zuleeka spoke over Kiva. “I imagine you’d have a hard time explaining how you escaped.
And it’s best if he doesn’t know our northern friends are in town. Were in
town,” she corrected, looking at the bodies lying around them. “They’ve been dealt with, so any immediate threat to him has passed.”
Her words caught Kiva’s attention enough that she stopped arguing and demanded, “What did Mother promise King Navok? The men who abducted us said you have to pay her debt — that it’s overdue.”
Zuleeka looked to where Rhess remained crouched over the still-masked Torell, heedless of the bloody carnage surrounding them. “It’s none of your
concern.”
“It damn well is,” Kiva ground out.
Zuleeka turned back to meet her gaze, noting how angry she was, and relented, “I’ll tell you, but not here. Next time we’re somewhere safe — and alone.”
Kiva wanted to push for an answer, but her sister was resolute, so she gave a sharp nod of agreement. Despite her capitulation, she wasn’t letting Zuleeka off the hook yet. There were other answers she still needed.
Jerking her head toward Tipp, Kiva asked, “Did you steal the Book of the Law?”
If Zuleeka was startled by the subject change, she didn’t let on. “Not
personally.”
“Zul —”
“I might have had a hand in it,” Zuleeka admitted.
Understanding hit Kiva. “Perita Brown was a rebel. She was your palace
spy.”
“One of them.”
“Did you kill her?” Kiva gasped.
There was no softness in Zuleeka’s expression when she answered, “She didn’t want this one” — she indicated Tipp — “to get in trouble and was planning to confess. I did what I had to do.”
Kiva recoiled. “But why? Why take the Book?”
Zuleeka wiped her bloodied hands on her pants. “Educational reasons.”
At the look Kiva sent her, Zuleeka huffed and explained, “You mentioned that hidden clause the other night, the Royal Ternary” — Kiva’s heart skipped a beat — “and it got me thinking: What else might be in there? What if there’s another secret clue that could help us?” Zuleeka shrugged. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to take a look.” She offered a sheepish look and said, “I’ll return it once I’m done. I swear.”
Kiva was appalled by the lengths her sister had gone to, but even so, she
loosed a relieved breath at her response.
Before she could ask any follow-up questions, Zuleeka put her mask back on and pressed her fingers to her lips, giving a loud whistle. Seconds later, rebels started flooding into the warehouse. Many were splattered with blood, indicating there had been more fighting beyond the stacked crates. Just how many Mirravens had Navok sent? Kiva shuddered, realizing how gravely the northern king had intended to harm Jaren — and Evalon — today.
Another whistle, and the rebels started dragging bodies away, clearing up the mess. A few approached Rhess and Tor, listening as the young woman gave them quiet instructions before they took off again behind the crates.
“What about Mother?” Kiva asked, swinging back to Zuleeka.
“I already said I’ll tell you later about her bargain with —”
“No, what about her magic?”
Zuleeka stilled. “What about it?”
Kiva rearranged Tipp’s weight in her arms, before acknowledging there was no point in holding him anymore, so she gently lowered him to the ground. Meeting her sister’s gaze, she said, “Delora told me about what Mother did — how she used her magic to hurt people. Just like Torvin Corentine. That’s what killed her, not some rotting illness.”
“Mother made sacrifices for our family that you can’t begin to imagine,”
Zuleeka said, her honey-gold eyes darkening. “Don’t for one moment think you can judge her.”
“Are you defending her?” Kiva asked. “She killed people.”
“Look around you,” Zuleeka said, waving to the bloodied space. “These people died today because of you. How is that any different?”
Kiva spluttered, “It’s completely different. They wanted to hurt us. From what I heard, Mother attacked innocents. A wave of her hand and they were dead.”
“Grow up, Kiva,” Zuleeka snapped. “No one is innocent. Not in this
world.”
Kiva flinched at her sudden wrath.
Realizing she’d lost control of her temper, Zuleeka sighed and touched her forehead over her mask. “I’m sorry. I just — I didn’t like seeing Tor like that. I’ve never seen him like that. If you hadn’t been here . . .” She met Kiva’s gaze, her eyes haunted. “Thank you, Kiva. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost him.”
Kiva released a long breath, understanding her sister’s terror, if not her
poor reaction. “I just wish you would stop keeping so many secrets from me.”
“Can you really blame me?” Zuleeka asked, sounding weary. “Tell me the truth: are you truly willing to turn your back on the Vallentis family? I saw how much they care for you, and you can deny it all you want, but I saw how much you care for them, too. Jaren, especially. Are you truly willing to take everything from them? From him?”
Kiva’s heart started picking up speed again. She could lie, she probably should lie, but she didn’t want to. Not to her sister, not to herself.
Not anymore.
“I was,” Kiva whispered. “When I left Zalindov, I was prepared to destroy them.”
“And now?” Zuleeka asked, her expression open beneath her mask.
Feeling lost, but somehow certain at the same time, Kiva said, “You’re right — I do care about them. But I care about you, too. You and Tor — I love you both. But I just —” She inhaled deeply and made herself admit, “I don’t want to be a rebel.” Quickly, she added, “I won’t stand against you, but I . . . I don’t want to help you. Not anymore.”
The exhaustion Kiva had felt after healing Torell swept over her again, along with a heavy dose of fear. But Zuleeka’s expression didn’t change.
There was no hint of the anger Kiva had expected, none of the outrage. If anything, she looked — well, not pleased, but finally happy to have the truth laid out before them.
“I figured as much,” Zuleeka said quietly. “You never were very good at
hiding your thoughts. Even as a child.”
Kiva looked at the ground. “I’m sorry.”
“You can’t help how you feel,” Zuleeka said, before opening her arms and drawing Kiva into a hug. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”
Kiva nearly cried as Zuleeka curled one arm around her waist and the other around her neck, holding her close as she repeated her promise that they would work it out, somehow. That she didn’t blame her, that she understood.
They stood like that for a long time, as if making up for ten years’ worth of lost embraces, only pulling apart when a whistle from across the room caught their attention. Kiva wiped under her damp eyes, noticing with some surprise that the bodies had all been cleared, and the men Rhess had given instructions to had returned with a stretcher for Torell. Carefully, they shifted him onto it, before vanishing with him beyond the crates. Rhessinda alone remained, striding toward where Zuleeka and Kiva stood above Tipp.
“Kodan just told me there’s a shift change soon,” Rhess said, her voice still hoarse with worry. “This warehouse is due for resupply, so it’ll be swarming with dockworkers in a few minutes.”
Zuleeka nodded. “We need to go.” She looked at Kiva. “And you need to
get back to the palace.”
“But Tipp —”
“I’ll look after him,” Rhessinda said. “I’m sorry, Kiva, but I overheard what Zuleeka told you, and I agree with her. If Jaren learns what happened today, he’ll want to know how you escaped — and who helped you. We still need to uncover what’s really going on ourselves.” She shot a pointed look at Zuleeka, clearly intending to interrogate her about Tilda’s bargain with Mirraven as soon as possible.
Turning back to Kiva, Rhess continued, “That means you need to go to the princess’s masquerade and act like everything is normal. And it also means Tipp needs to stay with us, at least until you have a chance to talk to him. You’ll have to come up with an excuse for his absence, just for tonight.
And then, as soon as you can sneak out again, you can explain everything to him.” She lowered her voice to finish, “I swear I won’t leave his side. He’ll be safe with me.”
Kiva hated this. But the logical part of her knew Zuleeka and Rhess were right — Tipp needed to be watched. She still didn’t fully grasp why Jaren couldn’t learn about the Mirraven abduction, but she did know that if he learned she’d been in danger, he would only blame himself, and she didn’t want to place that burden on his shoulders.
“Fine,” she said, albeit reluctantly. “But first thing tomorrow, I want to see him.”
Rhessinda pulled Tipp up into her arms, grunting slightly at his weight.
“We have a safe house in the city. Until Tor is —” Her throat bobbed. “Until Tor is awake, I don’t want to risk moving him back to Oakhollow, so we’ll spend the night in Vallenia. One of us will meet you at the palace in the morning and bring you to Tipp. Does that work?”
Kiva nodded, stopping herself from grabbing the young boy and refusing to let go. “Please take care of him.”
“You have my word,” Rhess said. “For both of them.”
Kiva offered the slightest of grateful smiles — that being all she could manage — and then watched the young woman walk away with Tipp in her arms.
“He’ll get over it,” Zuleeka said. “The boy clearly loves you.”
Kiva had trouble responding around the lump in her throat. “I just hope that’s enough.”
Zuleeka placed a comforting hand on Kiva’s shoulder. After a moment, she said, “I feel dreadful asking this now — I know the timing is terrible, and we both need to leave, but I have to know.”
“What?” Kiva asked.
Zuleeka looked torn, but finally asked, “You said you spoke with Delora — I take it you went back to her as planned?”
“She didn’t help me.” Kiva looked at the bloodstained floor where Torell had been lying, turning cold as she realized, “But Tor would be dead if she’d given me more potion, so it worked out for the best.” She shuddered, then finished, “I’ll just have to learn how to control my magic without her help.”
And she would. Kiva was determined to learn every facet of her healing power, to be the very opposite of what her mother had become. Helping people, not hurting them.
“I was hoping she’d be more generous toward you,” Zuleeka said.
“Yeah, well, she really doesn’t like our family.” With a pointed look, Kiva added, “You, especially.”
Zuleeka shuffled on her feet. “I might have visited her more than I let on.”
“She wouldn’t give me the dagger,” Kiva said, figuring that was what Zuleeka really wanted to know. “I tried, but she was adamant.”
Zuleeka’s shoulders slumped. “I knew it was a long shot. I’d just hoped . . .” Shaking her head, she said, “Never mind. It doesn’t matter now.” She jerked her chin in the direction of the exit. “We really do need to leave.”
And then she started leading the way out of the warehouse, around more boxes and crates and barrels than Kiva could count — the building was much larger than she’d thought — before they finally stepped outside to find the sun setting in the distance.
“I need to grab something before the party, but I’ll meet you at the palace,” Zuleeka said.
“You really don’t have to come,” Kiva said, hoping her sister would stay away.
“Tor’s already not going to be there. It might seem odd — even rude — if both of us ignore the princess’s invitation.”
Frustratingly, Zuleeka wasn’t wrong, so Kiva blew out a breath and said,
“I’ll see you soon, then.”
