Page 78 of Vilest Things
Oh, fuck—
Calla bites down on her yelp, swallowing the sound. Her head strikes the grass; her shoulder crunches when it smacks into the ground. Her hands are still bound behind her so she can’t brace when she falls, nor can she brace against the next kick on her chest. She’s never been more glad to be wearing Galipei in the midst of this. That impact would have stung so badly upon her own chest.
“Was this some reverse ambush all along, then? Terribly stupid to think you wouldn’t answer for it.”
The attacker is speaking to her.Confrontingher.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Calla growls back.
Maybe the confusion captures their curiosity. Suddenly, her blindfold is yanked off, and a man takes shape before her. He hauls her chin up. Checks the color of her eyes.
“Are you,” the man says, “Galipei Weisanna?”
Morning beams over the horizon. Brilliant red streaks through the skies, and a flock of birds takes flight overhead. Doves, native to the central provinces despite the unlikely, harsh environment.
“I am,” she says. “Who are you?”
It is the wrong thing to say. The man strikes his fist into her nose, and she’s entirely upside-down for a moment before realizing that her head is simply tilting upon the grass, her vision spinning, spinning—
“The one you communicated with,” he spits. “The one you made agreement with. Now, why did we bury our fighters in Leysa, huh? You thought it would be worthwhile to take out some of our numbers that way?”
“Shit,” Calla mutters.
Why would Galipei make an agreement with the Dovetail?
The man yanks her back up by her hair. She strains to catch a glimpse of Anton at her side. He’s listening closely. He must be putting it together as she is.
“For your sheer stupidity and failure—”
“You didn’t do your part,” Calla interrupts in a rush. Her bottom lip isstarting to swell. If she pushes the right buttons, she’ll get answers. “The attacking group was caught early. That wasn’t the agreement.”
He throws her down. There’s blood dripping from her face, painting the grass.
“We put everything at risk. We took your information and promised safety for your king. That ismorethan the agreement.”
“I didn’t see it that way.” She’s scrambling to make sense of the timeline. The attack in Rincun, the attacks across the provinces. Leysa in the forest, now this ditch in Laho. “I acted accordingly thereafter.”
The man shakes his head. When he turns away, gesturing for another member to bring him his sword, Calla finally spots a small dove tattooed at the back of his neck.
“Affairs were conducted far more smoothly when we were speaking to Prince August directly. We don’t want you near divine matters.”
Divine matters. Prince August.
Her inhale lodges in her throat.
Galipei made an agreement with the Dovetail becauseAugustwas speaking to the Dovetail.Augustinstructed the attacks on the provinces;hedictated the instructions before his coronation, before Anton invaded him. It seems, in fact, that Anton interrupted a carefully laid set of plans. Send the provinces into a frenzy, blame the councilmembers, take complete control over Talin.
God.Sheput him on this throne.
“Anton,” Calla says suddenly. It’s the end of the line. A part of her knows that she’s exposing him on purpose. Let there be no other option. Push him into the corner that will force his hand. Say whatever it takes to lock their convict chains together. “I’m going. Come with me. I need you.”
She doesn’t wait for an answer. It isn’t the same panic that culminated in Lankil’s city, but the moment she peers inward, the sensation is waiting inside her—an abyss merely zipped away in her mind rather than sealed over. Anexhale, an inhale. Blood trickles from her shoulder, leaks down her arm, into her palms.
Pain darts down her spine, flashes a burst of light inside her head. When Calla opens her eyes again, she’s staring up at the ceiling of a carriage, her body tingling with circulating blood and regained feeling. The moment she moves, she feels the grime of her dirty clothes, which are still covered with the ash of Lankil’s city.
It worked.
There’s a sound to her left. Calla is slow to turn, groggy. The last thing she expects to see is the lid suddenly flying off a long crate, and then someone sitting up inside.
