→ “This was always going to be a tragedy.”

She crouched at the edge of the trees. A small clearing separated her from the cave mouth, full of tall grasses and small flowers. There didn’t seem to be any movement but she was definitely in the right place. A rough wooden sign was posted next to the opening, proclaiming it as a holy place, and dark red smears stained the stone and dirt.

Dutch crept forward until she was just inside the cave. She eyed the stains with a frown, not liking how some of them were still shiny and wet, but forced herself four more steps past the threshold. Permeating from deep within was the undeniable stench of blood, death, and decay.

Gross. She was going to have to wash her hair after this one, if only to get rid of the awful smells that would undoubtedly stick to her like burrs.

Frey whistled from where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed and eyebrows raised as he took her in. “Damn, Gin. You look… bad.”

“You really know how to make a girl feel special.” She wiped at her nose, frowned when the back of her hand came away streaked with blood, and grabbed another napkin. 

“Hey, you’re still hot. You’d just be hotter without—” he paused, gesturing to her general self, “—all of the blood. Although the longer I look, the more it’s kind of working for me.”

“Fuck off, man.”

Pavia surged to her feet and threw her hands towards the roof just as pebbles gave way to larger rocks. The cave was collapsing. Cracks webbed across the stone ceiling too fast to be tracked. Blood trickled from Pavia’s nose and ears as she fought to hold the weight of the mountain and the fort above. 

The realization hit Jane within milliseconds: they were too far away. She and Mr. Dyer were too deep into the cave. Pavia wouldn’t be able to hold the ceiling long enough for them to get back to the cellar.

“You haven’t spoken in half an hour,” Kell said. “It’s weird.”

“I didn’t realize you enjoyed listening to me talk,” she replied archly. 

“It ranks only slightly above the eerie silence of these endless caves, but above it nonetheless.”

“High praise, coming from you.”

He rolled his eyes, and an arrow whistled between their heads. It bounced off the cave wall several metres ahead of them and clattered to the ground. 

Kell’s jaw dropped. “What the fuck—”

“If it didn’t consume the leg, then it’s probably not alive in the traditional sense,” Kell said, drawing her attention back to him. “It’s probably a magical construct.”

“That’s bad, right?”

“Very bad. They don’t have the survival instincts of living creatures. They don’t experience fear, or need to stop for food or sleep. They fulfill their purpose with dogged determination and singular focus.”

Then she was in front of Caius. She curtsied, and he took both of her hands as she straightened. Her heart hammered in her chest. Despite his fond smile and warm expression, his grip was like a vice. 

“Marharyta, thank you for gracing the Court with your presence this past month. We do not see as much of you as we would like, with how your mother keeps you locked up in Whitland Chateau,” he said, loud enough for the entire hall to hear. “We will miss your bright presence and dazzling smile, and we hope you choose to visit us again soon.”

It took all of her power to remain still when he leaned towards her and placed a kiss on both of her cheeks. Revulsion shot through her body, her stomach turning at the undeniable signal of favour, but she was still in the public eye. 

Maisy smiled as sweetly as she could. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I will certainly try.”

“Stay out of trouble.” His tone was light, but the threat beneath it was undeniable.

Ice filled her veins. Her smile faltered.

She sat at the table she was directed to, while Pavia went to get food, Nic handled the stabling of the horses, and Percy spoke to the innkeeper about accommodations. Mr. Dyer sat at the opposite end of the table, slouched forward with his head in his hand, using two fingers to massage his temple. She was more than happy to ignore his presence. He’d barely spoken to her for the duration of the trip, which had started off as fine but had become insulting as the trip had worn on.

“You did good,” he said, barely loud enough for her to hear over the noise of the dining room.

Jane blinked. “What?”

“You did good with the riding. You said it was your first time on a horse, right?”

“Uh, yes.” She narrowed her eyes. It was the first time he’d been openly complimentary about anything in her presence. “I wasn’t aware you were listening when I said that.”

“Looking like I’m not listening is part of my job,” he replied, managing a weak smile.

“Tell the others I tried, okay? No matter how this turns out. Tell them I did my best.”

Nadiya nodded and held out her hand. Silver glinted in the middle of her palm. Radka accepted the ring once again, and slipped it into place on her finger without comment. There was nothing left to say.

She turned back to the glowing door and pushed onwards.

“They raised children here?” Radka asked as they turned into yet another featureless grey hall. Even the doors they passed were all identical, from the shade of white they were painted to how deep they were set into the wall. And it was so cold—she wished she’d brought her coat, despite how nice it was outside. 

“They raised soldiers here,” Nadiya corrected. 

“They were kids before they were forced to become soldiers to survive,” she replied, something twisting in her stomach.

“We were all children, once upon a time. Life has a habit of forcing us to become what we used to hate; to do what we swore we’d never do. It’s unavoidable.”

He looked down at his plate, still half full, and pushed it towards her. “You need it more.”

“Damir—”

“Using magic takes a lot of energy. You need to eat.”

She sighed at the determined set of his brow. The worst part was that she was still hungry, not that she’d ever admit it to him. “I will take a quarter.”

“Three quarters.”

“One quarter.”

“Half.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Fine.”

He pushed half of his remaining food onto her plate, looking exceedingly pleased with himself. She shook her head. As long as they were both eating, there was nothing for her to complain about.

Maisy stepped down from the carriage, using Henry’s offered hand to balance, already smiling brightly at the young woman standing in the doorway. Kseniya kept shifting back and forth impatiently. The two hadn’t seen each other properly in years. Kseniya had joined the war effort as soon as she’d turned seventeen and had been all across the country since then, while Maisy had been in Siebal and far away from the fighting.

“So you couldn’t pick out a gift for Oz or me, but you were able to carry a plant across the country by horseback for Hal?” Maisy teased.

“It’s not like that,” she argued, covering her face with her hands as she started to laugh too. “Gods, this is mortifying.”

They leaned into each other, both laughing so hard their stomachs hurt, and managed to keep the positive tone until Henry and Roth forced them apart sometime in the late evening.

Radka cleared her throat. “You all have fun with that; I have to head to the clinic. Promised a friend I’d check in on her before my shift.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Ilias asked, his disappointment clear. 

“She has an important job saving lives,” Ori snapped. “It’ll be doubly important once the Conclave starts shooting at those of you stupid enough to attend the protests.”

“Why aren’t you joining us?” Roman demanded. 

Their upper lip curled. “Because I have better things to do today than getting myself killed.”

She knew better than most the way Brenik could chew up vulnerable people and spit them out even worse than before. She knew how many tried to bury their pasts under drugs or alcohol, how many traded mental pain for physical pain in the cages, how many were convinced they were one good night at the gambling tables away from escaping the city. She knew how deeply rooted these coping strategies were in people.

But they were still people. They deserved respect. They deserved compassion and support and safety. Not their government trying to murder them.

She could never be a willing sacrifice walking to her own slaughter wreathed with benevolence and forgiveness, but she was done fighting the inevitable. No more running, no more hiding, no more living in fear of fate sinking its claws into her.

• HERE is the wip intro for those of you unfamiliar with the project
• i’m sharing six chapters, about 20k words, which constitutes “part one” of the book
• the book is not done, nor has it been edited at all, so i’m not looking for feedback on the nitty gritty details. this is more to see if the general direction is interesting to people who aren’t me and if the characters are likeable outside of the fun snippets i’ve shared previously. and, as i said, some kind comments and validation would be appreciated as well but isn’t necessary if it isn’t deserved.
• i’ll be sharing the section to each person individually, so everyone can comment freely without worrying about anyone other than me seeing them. as fun as the chaos of a shared google doc sounds, the privacy concerns are too great.
• thank you to the people who interacted with my initial post about this idea for encouraging this!