Page 104 of Healer to the Ash King
“I won’t harm him.”
Rince vents an angry growl. “Cailin, you’re being foolish. I know the vow you made, and I understand the allure of good sex—but false pride and a little pleasure aren’t worth risking the future of the entire kingdom. Can’t you see how selfish you’re being?”
“No!” I hiss, pressing my forehead to the cold, wet metal of the gate. “You’re being fooled, Rince. You don’t have all the information.” I know I promised not to tell, but this is the only way I can think of, the only thing that might sway my friend. Quickly I tell Rince the Ash King’s story, explaining about the Undoing’s connection to Cheimhold. “You’re working for the enemy, Rince.”
“Lies,” he scoffs. “The King’s lies. I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so gullible,mo stór.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your treasure anymore.”
He’s silent for a moment. My healing light has faded, and we both stand in the dark, on opposite sides of the gate, with the cold wind rushing over bodies, carrying the scent of mildew from the damp walls.
“I cannot extract you,” says Rince. “Khloe was supposed to bring melting acid to weaken the gate. It’s her own special recipe. I have a few men with me, but not enough to knock these bars loose.”
“Getting out of the palace isn’t a problem for me. I’m not a prisoner. Nor am I a collaborator who requires extraction.”
“Oh, but you are.” There’s a darkness in his tone that scares me, and reminds me why I came out here in the first place.
“Before they dragged Khloe away, she said something about my parents.” My grip on the bars tightens, as if I can draw strength from the chilled metal. I’m still weak, suffering from blood loss, and I have little healing energy left. I need to rest.
“Our leader didn’t think you’d come through for us,” Rince says hollowly. “I made him promise to use Khloe against the King first, and if she couldn’t kill him, we’d fall back to you. And we knew you wouldn’t agree to kill him by your own hand unless you had a powerful incentive.”
“Rince,” I breathe. “What have you done?”
“I invited your parents to Cawn,” he says. “They were intercepted and escorted to our headquarters.”
“Heartsfire.” I sag against the gate. “No. Oh no. Rince, how could you?”
He crouches on the opposite side of the bars, reaching through them to grip my shoulder. “Listen, they’re fine, Cailin. They’re safe. I won’t let anything happen to them. You don’t think I would, do you? I’ve known them since I was little. Think of it as a reward. When you do the right thing, you get to see them.”
“The right thing—Rince—you—” But I can’t formulate anything logical or reasonable. Tonight has been too much. The Ash King’s offer of a life with him, his near-death, Khloe’s betrayal, and now—now my parents are in the hands of the Undoing, the merciless rebels who sided with Cheimhold and created the toxin that killed thousands.
“You have to do it tonight,” says Rince. “I’ll wait here a little longer. Kill the King, get the melting acid from Khloe’s room, and return to me. I’ll get you out safely, and we’ll reunite you with your parents. You’ll be a hero of the people, Cailin. Everyone already loves you. Destroy the King who forced you to serve him, end the man who used and humiliated you—and the people will love you even more. We’ll burn the monarchy and create something new, something better.”
“And if I don’t?”
He reaches farther through the bars, taking my chin and turning my face toward his. “I warned you,” he says sorrowfully. “I work for very powerful and dedicated people. If you fail, your parents will pay the price.”
“How do I know you really have them?”
Rince reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thick ring, set with a tiny starstone. When he breathes on it, it glows fiercely bright for several seconds, like a miniature star. I’ve seen it a thousand times. My father uses it to check the quality of gems and crystals.
“Bastard,” I hiss through my tears. “That belongs to my father. Give it to me.”
Rince’s fingers curl around the ring. “Give me the King’s head, and I will. If not, I’ll return to headquarters and inform our leader that you failed. And just in case you think of telling the King about this, I’ll send one of my men back to the Undoing with a message—that if I don’t return by dawn, they should kill your father immediately, and save your mother for future leverage.”
“How do you expect me to assassinate the Ash King?” Rince doesn’t know about my Rotter magic. This is my last chance for his mercy—if he thinks there’s no way for me to kill the King, maybe he’ll relent.
“You’re resourceful. I trust you’ll find a way to end him.” He rises, backing away from the bars. “Do it now, Cailin, or your parents die.”
37
I stagger back to the palace, wandering white-faced through the inner gates, ignoring the guards who ask me if I’m all right.
I have no idea if Perish is conscious again. If he is, I could tell him what’s happening. He might be able to send guards to follow Rince back to the Undoing’s headquarters and rescue my family. But if the guards are spotted, and Rince leads them astray, my parents will die at dawn. If Rince is taken into palace custody, my parents will die at dawn.
I can’t see a way out of this. I’m too weary, too weak.
Despair is the only thing propping me up as I stumble back into the royal corridor and make my way to Perish’s room. Bodyguards and servants are still bustling in and out, and farther along the hallway a cluster of the King’s advisers are speaking in low tones.
