There is no time for me to recover from my illusion. I shake my head violently, trying to force the terrifying images away. “We have to go,” I breathe, forcing myself up off the bed. “Now.”
To my grateful surprise, Magiano doesn’t argue. Instead, we rush to join the others. They are already waiting near the court’s side door. Sergio has horses for us, while my other mercenaries have already melted into the forest. I go to the stallion Violetta is astride, and she reaches a hand down to help me. I take it and swing up behind her.
“We will be surrounded by Inquisition forces,” Magiano reminds me as we turn our horses in the direction of the palace. He raises an eyebrow at me. “Are you strong enough?”
He is concerned for me, but he doesn’t stop me either. “Yes,” I say, and he nods. It’s all he needs to hear from me. Without another word, we set off in the rain. Off in the distance, the Beldish war horns blare again.
I feel a faint tug on the tether linking me to Enzo. The feeling makes my stomach seize painfully. The Daggers had come to sabotage me. They are making their move with their Beldish queen, and now Enzo will be at their side instead of mine. I grit my teeth. But not for long. They cannot control him like I can. By the end of this day, someone shall take this country.
As a bleak, rainy dawn breaks, we draw closer to the harbor. The canal where Teren told us to meet already has a line of gondolas waiting for us. The boats are painted a deep black so that they blend right in with the dark, stormy waters. I hold my breath as we rock along, the sides of the gondolas buffeted by waves.
As we sail closer to the plaza bordering the palace, a vision of white cloaks comes into view—a patrol of Inquisitors, all with their attention pointed at us. At the front of the patrol of Inquisitors stands Teren. He catches sight of me, and I hold my breath. Magiano’s doubts echo in my mind. If Teren goes back on his word now, then we will have to fight here.
But then I remember the anguish in his voice, the force of his hands clutching my face, and I know that his fury in the temple was real. He does not move as we approach. Instead, when we dock, he commands his Inquisitors to pull our gondolas forward and secure them. He holds a hand out to me.
I step out of the gondola without taking it. Behind me, Violetta follows. Magiano hops out with a nimble leap, his eyes fixed warily on the former Lead Inquisitor. A low rumble of thunder echoes across the sky. I know Violetta is trembling behind me.
I stare at Teren too. For a moment, neither of us says a word. I realize that this is the first time his eerie eyes are trained on me like an ally, and the feeling turns me cold. All I need is for him to take us into the palace, I remind myself.
“Do your work,” he says, and turns in the direction of the palace gates.
Teren cannot set foot inside the gates if he looks like himself. He has been banished by the queen, after all, and if he reveals himself too soon, the palace’s soldiers will stop him. So I weave an illusion over him, changing his nose and the tilt of his eyes, the lines of his jaw and the arc of his cheekbones. His eyes shift from ice to something dark and murky. His patrols look on as I transform their leader into a complete stranger. Their fear is directed at me, and I cherish it. It will be useful later.
I finish disguising Teren. “Well done, illusion worker,” he says to me. Magiano steps closer to me at Teren’s words, but Teren only smiles at him. “Don’t fear for her,” he goes on. “We are allies, remember?”
Magiano does not smile back.
We head toward the palace. Above us, a flash of lightning punctuates the darkening dawn. The closer we get, the stronger the tether pulls between me and wherever Enzo is. We must be drawing near to the Daggers too. The feeling makes me restless, impatient for us to move faster.
The Inquisitors at the main gate don’t stop us. Neither do those in the palace’s front courtyard, or those lining the palace’s main entrance. We fool guard after guard. I walk beside Violetta, our steps in sync, the illusion of white cloaks trailing behind us. Teren does not turn around, but his Inquisitors press close beside us, ready to stop us if we give the faintest sign of moving against him. I stare at his back, fantasizing that I could reach out and twist him, that I could let pain wash over him. The thought fuels my powers further. We make our way down long corridors and halls lined with windows from floor to ceiling. The storm clouds gathering outside have thickened now into blankets so that I can no longer see the sky through its gaps.
Finally, we reach the hall leading to the throne room. The number of Inquisitors here would not be able to stop us now. So I reach out for Teren’s disguise and slowly unravel it. The illusion of his dark, murky eyes gives way once again to his pale ones; his blond hair and cold, chiseled face return. The Inquisitors standing at the throne room’s door stiffen at the sight of him. I smile at their confusion. They must be wondering where Teren suddenly appeared from, and how he had gotten past all of the other soldiers in the palace.
Teren stops before them. “Stand aside,” he orders.
The guards hesitate for a moment longer. Teren had been the Lead Inquisitor for long enough that it is hard for them to break the habit of obeying him. But then one shakes his head nervously. “I’m sorry, sir,” he says, standing as straight as he can and putting his hand on his sword’s hilt. “I don’t know how you got this far, but we’ll have to escort you out of the palace. The queen has ordered you—”
Teren doesn’t wait for him to finish. He draws his own sword, steps forward, and slashes it across the man’s throat. The man’s eyes bulge, and his jaw drops. The second guard starts to raise the alarm, but I lash out with my illusions. A thousand imaginary hooks dig into his flesh, yanking hard, and he collapses to the floor. Teren crouches down and stabs him before he can scream. The man convulses, gurgling, on the ground. I stand and watch, remembering the Inquisitors I’d sentenced to die on the ship.