Fallen City by Adrienne Young - 33

Back at the Citadel, Ophelius was already bleeding.

I’d kissed her hair as I pressed the whalebone knife into her hand, not uttering a goodbye as the door to the cell closed behind me. In only seconds she would have pressed the blade to her wrists. Freed the godsblood from where it was imprisoned, just like her. Ophelius had finally gotten her wish. And now I could see that death was a mercy I should have granted her long ago.

I threw open the doors to the villa, hinges rattling as I untied the Magistrate’s robes. The silk fluttered to the ground, a trail of white that followed me through the atrium to the hall. I had minutes before Nej and the Consul knew what I’d done, only minutes to get myself across the bridge into the Lower City.

It all made sense now. The last thing anyone would expect was for the Consul to signal Isara’s oldest enemy. An invitation to come and take what was left—a last, gasping breath of a dying city before it succumbed to the flames. And the New Legion had no idea what was coming for them.

I opened the birdcages suspended in the atrium, unlatching the little gold clasps of their doors. The finches chirped and sang, fluttering on their perches with wings beating against the wires until, eventually, they darted up and out. I watched with cold, numb tears striping my cheeks as they followed the bright light of the atrium’s alcove.

Wind poured through the open windows of my mother’s room, tugging at my pale blue stola as I tore open the drawers of the chest, grabbing fistfuls of her jewelry. I stuffed it into a bag, searching for anything of value I could find. There was no question about the fate that awaited me here in the district or across the river, but I’d have to take my chances on the bridge with a bribe if I was going to get to Luca in time.

Sweat beaded along my brow as I cinched the bag closed, but my hands froze on the strings when the wind shifted, making the room fall quiet around me. Slowly, my eyes lifted to the mirror. There was a sudden oppressive feeling, like the walls were creeping toward me. Like I was sharing the space with someone else.

I jolted when I saw him, jostling the chest before I caught myself on it. A young man stood in the doorway of the room, hair blowing across his face as he watched me. It took several seconds for me to recall where I’d seen him. It had been in the lamplight of Luca’s tent. This was his tribune, Théo.

His armor was missing, and, without the helmet, I could see just how young he was. He’d snuck into the district, that much was clear, but how long had he been here? Since I walked through the door? Had he been waiting for me?

“What are you doing here?” I said, confused. But that confusion almost immediately turned to dread. “Where is Luca?”

Théo took something from his pocket, holding it out to me. The glint of godsblood-infused gold flashed on a linked chain.

“What is that?”

He took a step toward me, making me inch closer to the window, but he lifted a hand in a gesture that was meant to calm me. “He asked me to give you this. That’s all. That’s the only reason I’m here.”

When I didn’t protest, he set it on the chest and slowly backed away.

It was a medallion. I stared at it before I picked it up, the cold metal heavy in my hand. The family name read Esdran, one I’d never heard of before. I supposed that was the point.

You can’t be a Casperia anymore.

I rubbed my thumb across the engraved letters, the sharp prickle of tears igniting behind my eyes again. Luca was still looking for a way to get me out of this mess. After everything. But there would be no opening of the gates. No exodus to freedom. He just didn’t know it yet.

A jingling sounded down on the street, perforated by the pound of boots, and I went still as the last few hours came rushing back. The tribunal. Nej. The Priestess. My time was up.

Before me, Théo went still. “What? What is it?” He was already pulling the knife from his belt.

“They’re coming.” I swallowed. “For me.”

Three heavy knocks resounded through the empty villa, but I could hardly hear them. I wasn’t even sure I was breathing.

Théo went to the window, moving me from view as he peered down to the street. “Get over there. In the corner.”

I slipped the medallion into my pocket and did as he said, pressing myself against the wall as the footsteps grew closer. Théo looked around the room, eyes jumping from one thing to the next before he took a long, carved wooden hairpin from the chest and a white ribbon from the mirror.

The pounding of a fist echoed again, making the door shake on its hinges, and I flinched.

“Don’t move. Don’t make a sound,” Théo said, positioning himself on the other side of the doorway. His eyes were on the small circle of light on the floor between us. “Understand?”

A broken exhale escaped my throat.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you believe me?” he said lowly.

I looked him in the eye and nodded, forcing my breath to slow. My back pressed against the wall, the fabric of my chiton clutched in my trembling arms. Théo set a shoulder on the doorframe, a look of utter calm coming over him.

The doors to the street flew open down the hall, and the sound of metal clanged against the floor as bodies tore through the atrium. I didn’t breathe, following Théo’s gaze to that small circle of light on the tile floor. His eyes were intently focused on it.

Through the sliver I could see of the atrium, figures moved, and with each one that came through the door, the light streaming in from outside flickered. The circle on the floor flashed, and each time Théo’s mouth moved. He was counting them, I realized. Tallying how many he was up against.

The men spread out, two heading in what sounded like the direction of my mother’s study, and three more funneling in. I watched Théo exhale as the first of the legionnaires came through the door. His eyes swept the room as the other two continued down the hall, and Théo was so still that, for a moment, I wondered if he would move at all.

He shifted out and away from the wall with silent steps just as the legionnaire turned, and Théo wrapped his arms around him, one hand clasped over his mouth as he dragged his knife across the legionnaire’s throat. He held him up until the man’s legs gave out, and he slowly lowered him to the floor, waiting for the next to enter. When he did, shouting erupted in the villa, but the sound was cut short when Théo’s blade hit its mark, running him through the gut. He fell to his knees, toppling forward on the white stone.

I closed my eyes, hands pressed to my face, as I breathed through a muffled cry, trying not to make a sound. By the time I opened them again, Théo had another man lying at his feet.

When the fourth man’s eyes found me across the room, Théo barreled toward him and the hairpin spun in his fingers before he plunged it down into the crease between the man’s armor and his collarbone. The legionnaire screamed, sinking to his knees, and Théo pressed the hairpin in with the heel of his hand.

Eyes wide, the last legionnaire backed out of the room clumsily. Théo got back to his feet, body heavier now, and slipped the white ribbon from his tunic. I set my forehead on my knees as I listened to the sound of the body hitting the floor. The crash of something off the wall. The sick, wet choking sound as Théo wrapped the ribbon around the man’s neck and pulled. So tight.

I sat, frozen, as the spreading pool of red on the floor crept closer, touching the hem of my chiton. The smell of blood was thick in the air now, making me swallow against the taste of bile on my tongue.

Théo returned as soon as the choking stopped, a legionnaire’s arrows clutched in his bloody hands. “Let’s go.”

He dropped the bow over his shoulder and went to the window, watching the street below. But the only thing I could hear was the sound of my heart pounding in my chest.

“ Now, ” he said louder when I didn’t move.

I got back to my feet as another wave of nausea hit me and I leaned into the wall, letting it hold me up. He waited for me to pass through the doorway before he followed. I could feel him close behind me, one hand hovering at my side as if he were afraid I might tip over. The bodies in the atrium were surrounded by pools of blood.

He stood at the door, one hand on the bolt. “Ready?”

A gust of wind rushed in through the open windows, whipping around me and pulling the loose strands from my unraveling braid. It carried the distant howl of a sound that made me stop short, my eyes moving back to the view of the city below.

The sound resurfaced, louder, as another shifting breeze poured into the villa. Beside me, Théo was frozen.

The swift, biting realization of what it was made a pit bloom in my stomach. It was a horn. The distant call of voices came next, followed by the clang of metal.

An unsettling silence crept through the villa and I blinked, looking up at the window. There was a stillness outside. A quiet resonance that sent a chill running over my skin and emptied the room of all its air. I stood, taking a tentative step toward the doorway, listening. Across the district, the bridges were no longer empty and a swarm of red tunics was spilling from the Ilyrium.

The sound was coming from outside the walls.

“No.” The word was a whisper.

Théo paled, watching as artillery hit the buildings in the distance, and all I could think was that this was a dream. That it couldn’t be right.

My eyes jumped from the gates to the New Legion’s camp across the river, fear coursing through my veins so fast that my head was light with it. There was only one thing, one single thought, snaking through my mind. One source of the panic that swelled like a storm within me.

Luca.

More boots sounded below and I leaned out the window, heart sinking when I saw more legionnaires. They were headed for the stairs.

There was nowhere to hide. Nowhere to run. I had no more allies or strings to pull. I’d made my choices, and now the cost had come for me.

“You have to leave. Now.” I took hold of Théo’s tunic, pushing him back toward my chamber.

He caught my wrists with his hands, holding me in place. His eyes searched mine, and I could see the scenarios playing out behind them. There was no way out of this. A handful of legionnaires was one thing. But there were more than a dozen coming up the steps.

“They won’t kill me. Not yet. But they will kill you.”

Théo’s chest rose and fell, his grip on me tightening.

“Your vow is to him, not me,” I said, swallowing hard. “ Go! ”

I shoved him backward, and he finally released me, hesitating before he disappeared into the chamber. A second later, his shadow was flitting across the sunlit floor. Then he was gone.

I drew in a long, steadying breath as I turned to face the atrium, waiting for the door to open. There was no written history of this in the Citadel. No scrolls or paintings to archive a tale of darkness like this one. We had stolen the blessing of the gods. Pretended we deserved their favor. But before my very eyes, the great walled city of Isara, the jewel of the sea, was breaking into pieces all around me.

Below, the district wasn’t silent anymore. Magistrates and their families streamed into the streets alongside legionnaires from the Loyal Legion. Their eyes were wide with terror as they watched the smoke rise in the distance. The punctuated, metallic sound of artillery dragged on, firing at a speed I hadn’t heard in weeks. Whatever the New Legion was shooting at, it wasn’t something that could be taken down with return fire. And I knew what I would find if I could see over those walls. The banners of Valshad.