Within the Walls [NEW VERSION]

Chapter 39

Ruben's eyes are cold and distant as I grab his hand and yank him out of the room. We crash down the spiral staircase, bolting through the next room, past Larissa. I don't yet bother to ask about Killian, who's no longer in the room. Fires crackle and roar through the lower hallways of the palace as we burst out of the foyer, emerging into the rioters and crowds of rebels, who chants and shriek, crowding a particularly bloody hunk of royal meat below the tallest tower. Ruben swallows, his eyes finally watering.

I grab his hand again and tug him through the fray, ducking my head so hopefully, no one spots me. The king's truth sizzles like poison on my tongue. But I bite it back. Now is not the time. Wounded and dead rebels litter the palace grounds, blood and severed limbs making my stomach curdle. We help haul the injured into wagons, which will take them to the infirmary. Medics pour in from the Concave Sector and pitch in. Children scream and women wail for their lovers. I hold mine tight, not letting him go.

More Convex and Concave men run through the palace gates with pitchers of water and hoses connected to the pipes outside. Hisses and spits add to the chaos as they drown the fires. Smoke billows into the air and forms a haze across the inky sky, pushing the stars into the depths of the cosmos above. I scurry up to a young woman, who rounds up her children, but blood dribbles from her eye. A medic swoops in and helps me carry her and the children to the wagons.

As they hobble away, a thousand tiny needles shoot through my bloodstream, plunging into my gut. My breaths fall sharp. The world spins and sways. Sheer panic. I move away from the carnage, blood, and death, stepping into a secluded courtyard in the garden. My breath falls short and sharp like rain pattering the ground. Tears dribble down my cheeks and I lean against the walls of hedges as the sobs spill from my chest, like some battered beast awakening, finally safe to come out of hiding.

This is all my fault.

All my fault.

All my fault.

The bodies. The blood. Ruben killed his father because of me. They're all dead.

The pain is a knife in my chest twisting, digging. I clutch my stomach and double over as the phantom fists wrench my guts like wringing a cloth. As I hug my knees to my ribs on the ground, a bird sweeps down, landing before me, scraping its talons against the stone path. Its gleaming black feathers shimmer a hint of emerald as he waddles up to me, holding a small envelope in its little brass-coloured beak. He drops the envelope and then darts back into the night, blending into the obsidian, as if he were borne from it.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I wipe my tears and pluck the letter from the ground, prying it open.

"Elle." Is all it says.

I startle as a figure steps into the courtyard. His tall, slender frame has his back to me as he examines the sculpture of the Goddess of Tranquillity and rinses his hand beneath the fountain.

"I presume you are the one who wrote me this fine letter?" I say, grateful for the smoothness in my tone.

He releases a low, deep chuckle and tugs at his coat, not unlike the king. "You would be right. I suppose, words failed me. Other than your name, which I have heard like a war cry for weeks. No wonder my ears are still ringing."

"I killed a Tranq trying to protect my sister from starvation," my voice I bitter. "Instead of kicking me out, the king let her starve to death. I failed in the one thing I swore to my mother I'd do. Now, bodies litter the city."

"As opposed to how they'd keep littering the wastelands if King Talin still ruled?" he says, tilting his head over his shoulder. His jawline is sharp and chiselled, as if he were carved from the marble itself. "The kingdom owes you. You gave them the courage to fight for what they deserved. Freedom from the king."

"How do you know so much about me?" I ask, taking a step closer, reaching for my dagger that's still stained with the king's blood. "Are you one of his heralds?"

The harsh laughter scrapes along my bones. "Not at all, Elle." He spins around and prowls up to me with the delicate tread of a lion hunting its prey. The moonlight pushes through the murky sky and ignites his eyes. His forest eyes. I recognise his scarred cheek and white-blond hair. The memories, though foggy and tainted from weakness and sickness from my time in the dungeon, form into a moment of clarity.

"You saved me from dying of infection in prison," I say, lifting my chin, and spinning the blade as I ignore the impending exhaustion shoving into my muscles.

"Yes. The king locked you up. You fired up the rebels." His eyes, those green eyes, so painfully familiar.

"Who are you?" I say, afraid to confirm what I already know.

His eyes flash and his lips curl into a smug grin. "You know who I am, don't you?"

"No, I don't." My jaw clenches and I scrunch my nose. "Who are you?"

"My name is Edward," he says, hissing the name like a snake. "Edward Mallory. First son of the mighty King Talin, and my mother, Greer Mallory."

"Edward," I say, testing the name. "He warned me about you. How long have you been here?"

"Oh, Elle. Elle. Elle. I have been watching you for a long time. Since the first moment you spotted me in the southern forest all those months ago."

A gasp tumbles from my mouth and I stumble back, grabbing the hedge. "It was you?" Everything around me spins and sways like I've swallowed five shots of whiskey, as the memory of those startling green eyes prowls through my mind. So, it wasn't Ruben.

"It was you," I say again, my skin crawling at the realisation, and his prideful sneer. I lunge forward, about to slice him. But his striking features render my hand still. His eyes, so like Ruben's, and the king's, yet his face has a combination of Ruben and someone else. I imagine his mother had white hair, too.

"You truly propelled yourself to the spotlight when you nearly killed my brother," Edward says, circling me like a scavenger bird waiting for morsels of a corpse.

I school my face into neutrality, swallowing back the fear. "You know about Ruben?"

"Of course." He licks his lips, clasping his hands behind his back. "As I said, I have been watching. Funny, I always wanted a brother when I was little. Turn out, my father, so disgusted by his first bastard son, created his new, perfect child."

"So, you don't know Ruben at all."

His scarred cheek twitches. "Well, the night does not belong to the king anymore. Nor does it belong to the gods. It belongs to us. Why don't you tell me about him? I'm listening."

"What do you want?" I stick my chin in the air, trying to ignore the surging sea within me.

Edward pulls to a halt before me as Ruben calls for me from somewhere in the garden. His eyes glimmer like dying coals, and lips curl as he leans forward. "Thank you for ridding the world of my father, Elle. I promise we will meet again."

Then he vanishes around the corner, into the shadow and wind, staining my heart with wisps of darkness.