Page 154 of The Gilded Cage

“Does Tor know about this?”

Zuleeka barked out a laugh. “What do you think?” She shook her head, then looked down before quietly admitting, “I felt awful about stabbing him today, but I couldn’t risk him getting in the way — I knew he’d try to stop me if he figured out what I was planning tonight. I’ve known for some time that his loyalty has been wavering. And much more so since you returned.”

Kiva gaped at her sister. “Youstabbed him? But I saw —”

Arms, legs, three bodies tangled. That was all Kiva had seen, no proof of who had plunged the Mirraven’s sword into her brother.

“I had to make it look real,” Zuleeka stated, stepping back and reaching into her cloak. “And I knew you’d be able to heal him. The only question will be what he remembers when he wakes, but I’ll deal with that in the morning.You,however, won’t know for some time how all this plays out.”

“What do you —”

Before Kiva could finish, Zuleeka blew a handful of golden dust into her face. She coughed and spluttered as a rich caramelly taste overwhelmed her senses.

Along with absolute, blinding dread.

Angeldust.

The highly addictive drug was all over her, had gone straight down her nose and into her opened mouth.

“What thehell,Zul —”

“You took Mother from me,” Zuleeka interrupted, her face hard. “In ways you don’t even know about. Ways you’llneverunderstand. She always believed in you so much more than me. The golden child, she called you. So much power, she said. So much potential. But look at you — you’re nothing.”

Zuleeka made a scoffing sound, but Kiva was beginning to have trouble focusing around the quick-acting drug, fighting to comprehend her sister’s anger. Fighting to comprehendanything.

“You tookeverythingfrom me,” Zuleeka hissed. “And now I’m taking it from you.”

“I don’t —” Kiva tried to say, but the words mashed together before leaving her lips.

Zuleeka waved the pouch of golden powder in the air, her voice much calmer as she said, “Consider this a gift for all your help. The last gift you’ll ever receive from me. That, and this.”

With her vision moving in and out of focus, Kiva watched as Zuleeka removed the amulet from beneath her gown, reaching through the bars to slip the chain over Kiva’s neck.

“The last of its protective power faded when I went to get the Signet from the queen,” Zuleeka said. “She and Prince Oriel put up enough of a fight to drain it, so it’s useless now, but I want you to have it as a reminder of tonight — of everything you helped make happen. We’ll send along orders to make sure they don’t remove it with the rest of your possessions. I want you to remember, every day, until you no longer can.”

Kiva swayed on her feet, the iron bars swirling before her, every word from her sister’s mouth like a hazy, nonsensical dream.

Zuleeka gave a sharp whistle, much like she’d done in the warehouse earlier that day, then waved the angeldust pouch again and said, “This really is a gift — something to help you survive the long journey back. You won’t notice a thing, not even the passing of time.”

Zuleeka’s face was melting into colorful shapes as the hallucinogenic drug pulled Kiva into its embrace, but somehow she managed to slur a single word: “Back?”

“To Zalindov,” Zuleeka said. “I can’t have you running around helping your prince get in the way of my grand plans. Or Torell, if he doesn’t cooperate.” She leaned toward the swirling bars and whispered, her face tinged with a hint of madness, “There’s so much more happening here, so much you don’t understand. Mother was thinking too small. I won’t be making the same mistake. And I won’t risk you being free to stop me.”

In the back of Kiva’s mind, she knew she should be upset, even terrified, but instead, her limbs loosened as she relaxed, a humming sensation overtaking her body, the pain in her head fading and her troubles disappearing.

Zuleeka was saying something else, something Kiva couldn’t hear around the pleasant chiming sound in her ears. She watched through a foggy cloud as her sister turned to look at someone — Mirryn, who rematerialized at her side, summoned by the whistle — and handed over the golden pouch.

“She’s already so out of it,” the princess commented, her amused voice coming to Kiva as if from far away. “I’ll go make sure the prison wagon is ready and give the rest of this to her guards. They’ve agreed to keep her dosed until she reaches Zalindov. She won’t cause them any problems that way.”

The fuzzy outline of ice blue silk disappeared from Kiva’s vision, her head lolling to the side. Somehow she’d ended up on the ground without realizing it.

“Goodbye, sister.” Zuleeka’s words were nothing more than a distorted whisper of sound. “I wish things could have been different.”

What happened next, Kiva couldn’t say, the angeldust pulling her under, its grip swift and powerful. She was aware of Mirryn’s blue dress returning again, of the dungeon cell opening and then her body floating. She laughed at the sensation, feeling lighter than air, but then she was outside in the cold and lying on a hard surface, her limbs cramped tight as more iron bars surrounded her, caging her in.

And then she was moving.

The following minutes, hours, days, weeks became a blur of crunching gravel and clanging bars, broken only by the briefest moments of clarity, just enough time for her transfer guards to blow more of the caramelly powder into her face, sending her under all over again. She dreamed of golden palaces and glittering rivers, of rooms full of windows and mist-covered marble. She saw Jaren’s face, his hands, his lips, as he touched her, held her, cherished her. And she whispered to him, telling him everything she’d never said aloud, all the truths she’d bottled up inside, too afraid of what they would mean if she let them out.

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