Chapter 3

LET THE ANCHOR LIVE UNTIL THE THRONE OPENS.

I hadn't written that.

"I didn't sign it."

Rafe's hand closed around my wrist. His palm still burned from the royal mark carved into it. Heat pushed through my glove and crawled up my arm.

"Then tell me who did."

"If I knew, I wouldn't be standing here arguing with you."

Behind us, the west gate of Hollowglass Bastion gave a deep, ugly crack.

The soldiers on the battlements shouted. Iron chains snapped loose and slammed against the stone. Through the widening gap, ash-colored fire spilled across the outer yard.

The gate had held back the rebel cannons for less than a minute.

Now it was folding inward.

Marek raised his sword toward the artillery platform. "Fire again! Kill them both before the fortress falls!"

No one moved.

The cannon crew stared at Rafe. Their commander had just chosen me over Marek in front of half the garrison. That hadn't made them brave. It had only made them terrified of choosing wrong again.

Marek's face tightened. "That was an order."

Rafe didn't look at him. His fingers stayed locked around my wrist.

"You want me to protect her," he said. "The contract needs a command."

"Then command me," I snapped. "The gate first."

His gray eyes cut to mine. "You don't know what it'll cost."

"I know what happens if the gate falls. Your soldiers die. The fortress goes to the Directorate. Marek walks away with my evidence and my head in a box. Pick the disaster you like best."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting."

The gate cracked again.

A slab of blackstone dropped from the arch and crushed three empty supply carts. Soldiers scattered as sparks rained over them.

A young guard slipped on the broken steps. His shield flew over the edge. He grabbed for the railing, missed, then caught the wrist of the man beside him.

"Rafe!" Seren Quill shouted from the upper wall. "We've got maybe two minutes!"

She'd arrived with a squad of armored fighters, her red scarf tucked beneath her collar and her crossbow already loaded. She pointed at the failing gate.

"Give me a command or get out of my way."

Rafe's thumb pressed against the inside of my wrist. Rough. Warm. Far too careful for a man who'd threatened to turn me over to the Directorate ten minutes ago.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked.

"Say the gate holds."

"That isn't how a blood pact works."

"You know more about it than I do."

"That's exactly why I'm not using it blindly."

I pulled against his grip.

He tightened it and dragged me half a step closer. My shoulder struck his chest. Smoke clung to his coat, mixed with iron and the sharp heat pouring from his marked hand.

"Let go," I said.

"Not until you tell me what you're hiding."

"The gate is collapsing."

"You knew this would happen."

"I knew Marek's weapons deal included Hollowglass. I didn't know he planned to break the west gate tonight."

"You knew enough to bring a map."

"I brought the map because I wanted to stay alive. Try not to make that sound like a crime."

His jaw flexed. "Everything about you sounds like a crime."

"Arrest me after you save your people."

For one second, his eyes dropped to my mouth.

I felt it. The pause. The heat of his breath between us. His hand around my wrist. My body pressed against the hard line of his chest because he'd pulled me too close to pretend this was only strategy.

Then the gate screamed.

Rafe shoved me behind him and drew his dagger.

"Seren! Pull the east companies to the inner wall."

"And the west?"

"Nobody leaves the west."

She stared at him. "That wasn't a command."

Rafe looked at me again.

"Helen."

"Say it."

"If this goes wrong—"

"It already went wrong when I agreed to marry you."

His mouth flattened. "You agreed to a temporary protection pact."

"In front of witnesses, with blood on the page. If you want to call it something else, complain after the fortress is standing."

"You don't get to spend my life like coin."

"And you don't get to spend mine."

That stopped him.

The contract hovered between us, its red letters twisting like live wires. A pull tugged beneath my ribs, faint but steady. It was searching for an order. Waiting for one of us to give it permission.

Rafe leaned closer. His voice dropped until only I could hear it.

"What happens when the pact asks for more than the gate?"

"Then I give it more."

"You have no idea what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying."

"No, you don't." His fingers slid higher, from my wrist to the soft place beneath my palm. "You came here carrying a map, a treason charge, and a marriage offer. You knew the Directorate would kill you. You knew Marek would fire on you. You still walked straight onto my platform. Why?"

"Because you were the only man here who hated Marek enough to listen."

"That's not the whole answer."

"It's the answer you can afford."

Another section of the gate tore free.

The impact shook the platform beneath our feet. Dust punched into the air. Somewhere below, a soldier cried out.

Seren raised her crossbow. "Rafe, now!"

I turned toward the gate. "Command it."

His body blocked mine. "No."

"What?"

"I won't give an unpriced order."

"Then move."

"You think this is courage? It isn't. It's a death wish with a pretty face."

My palm smacked his chest. "Don't call me pretty when you're refusing to save your own people."

His gaze sharpened.

"You noticed?"

"I notice everything when a man is trying to control me."

"Good. Then notice this." He caught my hand before I could pull it away. "The contract doesn't obey the speaker. It obeys the blood with the stronger claim. If you command the gate, it may take the payment from you. If I command it, it may take the payment from me. And if that hidden line belongs to the throne—"

"Stop talking and let me do it."

"Helen."

"You wanted proof I wasn't using you. Here it is."

I pressed my bleeding palm against the contract.

The paper burned cold.

"Hold the west gate," I said. "Keep every guard behind it alive until relief arrives."

The pact snapped shut around my command.

A red thread shot from the page and plunged into my wrist.

Pain ripped up my arm. I bit down so hard my teeth hurt.

Rafe caught my shoulder. "Break the command."

"No."

"Helen, break it!"

"You heard me. Hold the gate."

The glowing thread moved beneath my skin. It didn't spread like fire. It crawled like a needle pulling something long and thin out of my veins.

My knees buckled.

Rafe hauled me against him. His arm locked around my waist, keeping me upright. His mouth brushed my temple as he swore.

"What is it taking?"

"I don't know."

"You felt it."

"I said I don't know."

The soldiers on the battlement shouted again.

The west gate slammed back into place.

Not repaired. Not restored.

The broken stone dragged itself together in a shower of red sparks. The chains lifted. The split iron sealed beneath a glowing line that looked too much like a scar.

The rebel cannons fired.

The shots struck the gate and burst apart.

For one heartbeat, nobody moved.

Then Seren shouted, "Hold the wall! Push them back!"

The soldiers answered her. Bolts flew. Stones rolled down the outer slope. Panic broke into motion, and motion became a defense.

Rafe still held me.

His hand spread across my waist, fingers digging through my coat. His breath brushed my ear.

"How much?"

"What?"

"How much did it take?"

I looked down at the contract.

A thin gold line had appeared beneath the red command. It curled around the page once. Then again. Small marks formed beside it, each one shaped like a narrow cut.

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me."

"Then stop asking questions I can't answer."

He turned me toward him.

The movement forced my back against the stone pillar behind us. His body came with mine, close enough that his coat rubbed against my ribs.

"You don't get to die because you think I need saving."

"I wasn't saving you."

"You were saving my fortress. That's the same thing."

"No, it isn't. Your fortress is useful. You are difficult."

His eyes narrowed. "Keep talking like that."

"Why? Does it make you want to kill me or kiss me?"

The question landed between us.

His thumb stopped against my waist.

I felt his breath change. One rough inhale. One quiet pause.

Then a body hit the stones beside our boots.

The dead man wore a gray Ashen Council coat. His throat had been cut, and a black metal seal had been driven through his collarbone. A strip of folded paper was trapped beneath his stiff fingers.

Rafe released me and crouched beside him.

"Council agent," Seren said, arriving at a run. "He was in the lower passage. Two men tried to drag him away."

"Where are they?" Rafe asked.

"Dead."

"Convenient."

I knelt and pulled the paper from the corpse's hand.

The seal matched the mark burned into Rafe's palm.

His dagger appeared at my throat before I could unfold it.

"Put it down."

"You don't trust me?"

"Not with anything carrying a royal seal."

"Then read it yourself."

He took the paper without lowering the blade.

The dead agent's mouth moved.

I froze.

His eyes stayed open, gray and filmed over, but his lips worked around a broken whisper.

"The throne... doesn't grant a crown."

Seren stepped back. "He's dead."

"I know."

The agent's fingers scraped the stones. Blood bubbled in his throat.

"It collects... what the living owe."

Rafe unfolded the paper.

His face changed.

Not fear. Worse.

Recognition.

I reached for the page. He caught my hand before my fingers touched it.

"What does it say?"

"Nothing you need to see."

"Move."

"Helen."

"Move, Rafe."

I twisted free and grabbed the paper.

The text had been written in old royal script, but I could read it. My eyes raced down the lines.

THRONE DEATHS DO NOT END THE DEBT.

UNPAID COST PASSES TO THE SURVIVOR.

The contract burned between my fingers.

The gold line beneath my command jerked forward.

One of the small marks vanished.

A second appeared farther down the page.

Rafe seized my wrist. "What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"The years are moving."

My throat closed. "What years?"

He dragged the page closer and pointed to the gold marks. "Those aren't payment lines. They're life-counts. Every time the contract takes from you, it records what's left."

"How much is left?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me."

His grip tightened. "You want the truth? The line is still moving."

Another mark vanished.

My knees weakened. Rafe pulled me against him before I hit the ground. His hand spread across my back, his mouth near my hair.

"Break the pact," he said.

"You said it couldn't be broken."

"I said I wouldn't break it without knowing the backlash."

"And now?"

"Now I know it wants you dead."

The words should've scared me.

Instead, they made my chest ache in a way the burning contract hadn't managed.

I pushed against him. "It doesn't want me dead. It wants the command fulfilled."

"You keep defending the thing killing you."

"Because you still don't understand. If the gate had fallen, every guard behind it would be dead."

"So you paid with your life."

"I paid with what I had."

"You had a choice."

"No. I had a wall, a hundred soldiers, and three cannons pointed at us. You had a choice. You chose to stand there and argue."

His expression hardened.

"I was trying to keep you alive."

"You don't even know me."

"I know what your blood did to my mark."

The royal symbol in his palm flared.

The contract ripped out of my hand.

Its pages whipped through the hot air, turning faster and faster. The red command faded. The gold line tightened around the center fold.

The dead agent laughed.

It was a wet, broken sound.

"The throne has chosen—"