“Well, are you?” I say.
“Are you serious, Emanuela?” he says. “Of course I am!”
“You didn’t do anything about it.” Even as I say it, I’m aware that I’m admitting too much. He’s supposed to think I didn’t want him to help me escape the tower. He’s supposed to think I didn’t care if he tried to come after me or not.
“What could I possibly have done?” he says.
“Anything,” I say. I can’t stop myself. “You could have done anything. But you just stood there and let it happen—”
“You could have told me about your omen,” he says louder. “It’s not like you didn’t have plenty of chances. I tell you everything. You know things about me that my family doesn’t know. And you couldn’t even—”
“I didn’t tell you about my omen because it doesn’t matter,” I say. “It hasn’t spread. It won’t spread.”
“Well, it will spread eventually,” he says.
“It won’t,” I say.
“It will,” he says, sounding exasperated. “Why can’t you just admit that you’re scared of it? You don’t have to admit it to everyone else, but you could at least admit it to me.”
I draw back.
He’s blaming me for everything that’s happened. He’s blaming me for not wanting to die.
“Why would I admit anything to you?” I say, making sure my voice is as cold as possible.
“Because,” he says. “We’re…” He trails off.
“What are we?” I say.
He hesitates. But then he draws himself up, his face determined. “We’re best friends. We’re in this together. We need each other.”
“You need me,” I say. “I don’t need you.”
“Oh, I know that’s what you think.” His cheeks are turning red. “You’ve made it clear. Many times.”
“You can’t do anything without me,” I say.
“Because you won’t let me!” he says. “You don’t listen to my ideas. I’ve had ideas since we’ve been here, but you haven’t listened. You didn’t have to attack Verene ten minutes after we met her. You didn’t have to tell everyone in Iris about the other cities. You didn’t have to set the whole cathedral on fire. And don’t tell me it’s all in the name of saving Occhia. I want to save Occhia, too, but I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t want to become someone who lies and who stabs people, and—and I don’t think you care about that at all. When there’s something you want, you don’t care who gets hurt. And if you’re planning to do something even worse, if you’ve found something in that journal, then—”
He stops, breathless. I wait for the rest, but nothing comes. He just looks at me, and I can tell he’s afraid of how I’m going to respond.
Good. If he’s going to spout nonsense, he should be afraid of the consequences.
“So you think you can save Occhia without me,” I say. “That’s interesting, because you couldn’t even get out of the catacombs without me.”
“Well,” he says, “if it wasn’t for you, Occhia wouldn’t even need saving.”
My blood roars in my ears.
I killed the watercrea because I had to. I’m changing things in Occhia because they need to be changed. This isn’t about quietly putting things back the way they were and hurting no one in the process. This is about me and the moves that only I’m willing to make.
Of course Ale doesn’t understand. He’s just like everyone else. And if he’s not going to listen to me, then he’s just another obstacle that needs to be dealt with.
I stand up, and he tenses, like he thinks I’m going to magically fly across the hall and attack him. I reach through the bars of my cell and find the lock keeping me in. Then I pull two pins out of my hair and bend them into position. I reach around, being careful with my bandaged hand. I put the pins in the lock and slowly, painstakingly, start to wiggle them around.
Ale watches me in silence. He knows exactly what I’m doing. I made him go to many parties at the House of Bianchi so that I could break into Chiara’s bedroom and snoop around. Sometimes, when Ale wasn’t looking, I read her diary, looking for my name. Chiara Bianchi feels strangely far away now. I used to think about her constantly—more often than I even want to admit to myself—but she doesn’t seem important anymore.
The lock clicks, and I slide open the door. I step out of my cell and look pointedly at Ale.
“What’s taking you so long?” I say.
He presses his lips together.
I make my way down the hall, and I don’t look back.
The two constables outside are even easier to get past than I expected. They’re watching the cathedral burn and sharing a bottle of wine. I would have been happy to fight them, but in this case, I don’t mind being underestimated. It’s faster. On my way out, I swipe one of their jackets hanging by the door. It will help hide my rather conspicuously bloodstained dress.
I sneak onto the streets. I keep my head down as I walk, but nobody is paying attention to me. If they’re not running toward the cathedral, desperate to help, they’re huddling with their neighbors and talking in anxious tones. I keep my ears open. I want to know what rumors are going around.
“Nobody’s seen her since they caught the attackers—”
“You don’t really think it means that there are other cities, do you? Why would she know about them and not tell us?”
“They’re saying her servant put that banner up, and that’s why she threw her out the window. But that just doesn’t sound like the Heart—”
“I mean, I always did think it was a little strange that she never left the cathedral. She said she was going to be different than—”
I try not to smile. This city has had it good, but now, they’re remembering what it’s like to have a ruler who keeps secrets. They’re remembering what it’s like to be afraid. I knew they still had that fear tucked away
