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Pushing us aside, Henri ducked to his haunches, gathered Peter’s unconscious limbs, and hoisted him into his arms.
My heart squeezed.
Hope, delicious hope.
All the pressure, the pain, and the fear of the day threatened to become too much as I witnessed a man who’d willingly bullied this jewel. A Master who’d judged him, ridiculed him, and been jealous of him—cradle him close as if he was a brother.
Tears stung my eyes as Henri swayed a little before clutching Peter closer to his chest.
Peter’s head flopped back, his shoulders supported by Henri’s arm and his legs draped over another.
Was Henri helping him because of tactic and schemes? Did he do this to stay in Victor’s good graces? Or was he helping because none of this was right? All of this was wrong. So very, very wrong.
And…he’d participated.
Silently, we followed him as he carried Peter out through the tunnel and up the stairs. I’d left the knife tucked discreetly behind a rock, aware the guards would steal it the moment I stepped foot into the stronghold.
Every instinct ordered me not to go back there, but…what choice did we have?
Enter with Henri as our reigning winner and trust him to keep us safe or…risk our lives by swimming.
Krish would never forgive me if I drowned.
No one spoke as we padded silently through the forest, climbing higher and higher, following the same paths we’d sprinted down this morning.
Every day since I’d arrived here, the hours had defied the usual length of a normal trip around the sun. It felt as if I’d been a prisoner for years, yet that journey through the woods felt like it lasted an eternity.
My muscles burned with bruises, my ribs felt far too sharp, and my feet had long stopped screaming for walking over painful things. I didn’t want to see how badly cut they were.
We were all spent by the time we broke out of the forest, sighing in relief as bare toes sank into the luscious grass of Victor’s runway.
Rachel bared her teeth as the stronghold with its battlement walls, sniper guards, spotlights, and star-puncturing turrets appeared.
Uplights danced over every chiselled stone. Arrow slits and modern windows flickered like fireflies with illumination from within. With its caged balconies and gargoyles, angels and pointy parapets, Victor’s home might be a nest full of monsters, but…it looked rather beautiful in the starry night.
“You’re late,” a guard muttered as our feet thudded heavily over the drawbridge and traded open air for stagnant imprisonment.
Henri sniffed. “Long day.”
“The Master Jeweler is waiting for everyone to present in the ballroom. Rollcall should’ve finished three hours ago.”
“Tell him he can keep waiting.” Henri looked at Peter in his arms. “This jewel needs a doctor. Now.”
Scowling, the guard spoke into a radio hooked onto his black jacket. Muttering something, his eyes skimmed the rest of us, growing wider as he noticed how paint-covered we all were.
By the time he got a crackly response, his face had traded annoyance for respect, and he bowed a little at Henri. “The Master Jeweler said he’ll meet you in the foyer.”
Stifling a sigh, Henri nodded. “Fine.”
My skin crawled as we all started walking again.
I expected the drawbridge to clang up and lock us inside, but it seemed we weren’t the only tardy ones. The three guards manning the entrance turned to face the dark runway again, their eyes peering through the night for more stragglers.
Rachel glanced at me. “I don’t know if I’m hoping no jewels will show up for rollcall or all of them.”
Mollie nodded. “What if a few jumped?”
“Then I guess they’re better off than we are.” Rachel staggered.
