Finally, he nods back toward the window. “You said you know a way for us to save those
malfettos
,” he says. “Well, what? What’s your plan?”
I squeeze my eye shut and take a deep breath.
Calm yourself,
I command. Magiano’s presence steadies me. I look up at him. “Teren is down there right now, in the
malfetto
camps,” I say. “We can trick him to work in our favor.”
“In our
favor
?”
“Yes.” I look from Magiano to the others. “If Teren is at odds with the queen, he’ll want retaliation. He’s doing it right now. He can be our way into the palace, and to the throne.”
Enzo approaches and a surge of anger travels through the tether that links us. “And what makes you think you can bend Teren to your will?” he says. “His disobedience to my sister will not make him our ally.”
“Enzo,” I reply, “I think I know why Teren has been banished. I think I know who came between them.”
At that, Enzo’s expression changes instantly. His anger becomes confusion, then realization, all in the blink of an eye. “Raffaele,” he says.
I nod. “I think Raffaele is in the palace. I don’t know what he has done, but if the Daggers are working to break the two of them apart … then we might be able to find the Daggers by going to the palace. In order to do that, we’ll need to trick Teren into working with us. He will be able to get us in faster than we can do it ourselves.” I hold up my hands. “I can only disguise so many of us, and only for so long.”
“We don’t have much time,” Magiano adds, looking in the direction of the burning camps.
Enzo considers my words. The thought of reuniting with the Daggers and with Raffaele has given him some spark of life, and I can feel it burning within him. Someday, he will figure out what I did to Raffaele at the arena. What will happen then?
The whispers surface.
Then you must exert your control over him.
After a moment, Enzo straightens and walks past us. “Let’s hurry, then.”
Teren Santoro
I’m not supposed to be here.
Still, Teren marches down the rows of the
malfetto
camps. “There,” he says, pointing, leading a squadron of Inquisitors behind him. Giulietta may have stripped him of his Lead Inquisitor title, but he still has patrols at his command. Now he motions for his men to head to each of the longhouses where the
malfettos
are. “Get them all inside.”
Inquisitors push frightened
malfettos
back into their assigned quarters. Their shouts ring out across the camps. Teren waits until each longhouse is filled, and then he nods again at his men. “Lock the doors.”
As Teren marches down the row of longhouses, the Inquisitors lock each door behind him, metal scraping against metal as the doors are bolted shut.
Giulietta’s words ring in Teren’s head over and over
again, becoming a cacophony of betrayal.
You are no longer my Lead Inquisitor.
He pledged his entire life to her, but she no longer wants it.
He remembers the way he used to make her smile, how she would let him unpin her hair and it would tumble down past her shoulders. He imagines kissing her again, wrapping her in his arms, waking up in her bed.
How could she push him aside in favor of the Daggers? Teren shakes his head. No, this is not the princess he grew up knowing. This is not the queen he pledged to serve. He had made a promise before the gods that he would cleanse this land of abominations, and he’d thought that the queen wanted the same thing.
And now she wants to free the
malfettos
, after all the hard work he has done?
“Light the torches,” Teren commands, and his men rush to do his bidding.
No, he cannot allow the Daggers to win like this. If he has to leave the city, he is going to take the
malfettos
down first.
He pauses at the end of the row, then turns to face the longhouses again. He takes a torch from one of his men, walks up to the first longhouse, and holds it up to the thatched roof. It catches fire.
As the smoke builds, and the people trapped inside begin to panic, Teren walks to the next longhouse, shouting a command over his shoulder. “Burn them all.”
It is better to have an enemy who will fight you in an open field than a lover who will kill you in your sleep.
—
Kenettra and Beldain: An Ancient Rivalry
, various authors
Adelina Amouteru
I sense what’s happened in the
malfetto
camps before we even arrive there. An aura of terror and pain hovers over the entire area, blanketing the land as surely as the smoke fills the air. I shiver at the feeling.
Violetta rides with me. Behind us, Enzo flanks our left, his face masked behind a cloth veil in case Teren sees us, and Sergio flanks our right, one hand on his horse’s reins and the other on the hilt of his sword. Somewhere nearby, Magiano watches us. I imagine his eyes narrowed, focused on me as we go.
By the time we reach the edge of the camps, the smoke is thick. Screams fill the air. The longhouses used to house the
malfettos
are on fire, the flames licking at the roofs, crackling and roaring, red splinters floating through the air.
Malfettos
are trapped inside. Their terror feeds my darkness so much
that I can barely see. I lean over in my saddle, struggling to keep my own fear at bay. The screams coming from the longhouses are familiar to me. They remind me of my own. Where are the Inquisitors? The paths are empty, the soldiers having long since passed through and moved on to the other camps in the area.
The fires closest to us flicker—as if a great wind had just whipped past—and then they vanish into curls of black smoke. I glance to my side, where Enzo gallops. He gives me a single nod, his eyes the only part of his face that are exposed, and then urges his horse onward. He raises another hand. Other fires along the path flicker out. Each time he uses his energy, the tether between us vibrates, sending shudders through my chest. Tendrils of his power seep into me, the threads scalding my insides. I try to keep it under control.
Screams continue from inside the longhouses. The whispers in me jump, excited by their overwhelming fear. I grit my teeth as we reach the first of the houses. I jump down from my saddle and rush to the closest door. Even though fire has eaten away at it, and the wood is charred black, I can’t seem to pull the wood apart. I yank at the metal lock. The sudden rush of helplessness angers me. I am the White Wolf, capable of creating the most powerful illusions in the world—but they are just that. Illusions. I cannot even break a lock with my own hands.
Enzo appears beside me. His gloved hand closes on my frantic ones. “Allow me.” He wraps his fist around the lock. The metal turns bright red, then white, and the wood around
it chars. It bursts apart in a shower of splinters. The lock comes free.
We pull the door open, and a plume of smoke rushes out.
I don’t wait to see how many survivors are inside. Instead, as Violetta and Sergio call for people to get out of the house, I move on to the next door. One by one, we break open each locked house.
A few Inquisitors run straight into us right as we turn a corner. They startle at the sight of us—and Enzo is on them before they can even react. He whips out a blade and stabs the first, then puts his hands around the collar of the second. The soldier’s eyes bulge as they burn from within. He falls without a sound, his mouth still open, smoke pouring out. Enzo steps over him in one stride, then lunges at the third. Flames alight beneath his feet with each step that he takes. He throws him roughly to the ground before the Inquisitor can even properly draw a weapon, then pins him down. I blink at the sight. Enzo had attacked all three in a blur of motion. I have not even seen the full extent of his new power, but I can feel it burning under his skin and through our tether.
The Inquisitor on the ground whimpers beneath Enzo’s grip. “Teren Santoro,” Enzo says, tightening his hand around the man’s neck. “Where is he?”
The Inquisitor waves one arm frantically against the ground, pointing in the direction of his head. My stare travels down the burning camps, then settles on one of the temples lining Estenzia’s outer walls.
In the short time that I knew Teren, I learned several things
about him. He is in love with the queen because she is pure of blood and wants the
malfettos
destroyed as well. But one thing he honors more than the queen: his duty to the gods. If Teren has lost her love, then he may have turned to the gods for comfort.
Farther down the path behind us, Sergio throws knives into the throats of two other Inquisitors who happen upon us. They fall from their steeds, gurgling. Sergio swings down from his horse and joins us, while Violetta rides up behind him. He notices my line of sight. He nods, then mounts his horse again and taps the creature’s hindquarters with his heels. Enzo has already returned to his own steed. He holds a hand down to me, and I take it, swinging up behind him.
Behind us, a few
malfettos
take up a cry.
The Young Elites!
They’re here!
We dismount when we reach the temple. A horse is already outside, nervously stamping at the ground. Enormous statues stand on either side of the entrance—Laetes, the angel of Joy, and Compasia, the angel of Empathy. I exchange a look with Violetta. “I will go in first,” I whisper to Enzo. “If Teren is here, then I need him to see me alone.”
“Go ahead,” Violetta tells me. She tightens her riding gloves. “I’ll be waiting in the shadows. I won’t let him use his strength against you.”
Enzo turns his horse around and looks toward the horizon, where other
malfetto
camps have started to burn.
Sergio rides up beside him. “My other men are ready to move, should we give the signal,” he says to Enzo.
“No need,” Enzo replies, his eyes still fixed on the rising smoke. “I’ve seen you fight—I trained you myself.” It is the first time he has acknowledged their past. He hoists a blade in one hand, and it gleams in the light. “This will be quick, and quiet.”
Sergio nods in agreement.
Enzo glances at him before he moves. “The Rainmaker,” he says.
Sergio narrows his eyes. “I’ve not forgotten, you know,” he replies. He kicks his horse in its hindquarters. “But we have more important things to settle first.”
Enzo’s eyes flick back to me. He does not ask if I will be okay. His silent approval makes me stand taller. Then he turns away and rides with Sergio toward the smoke in the distance. I turn to Violetta, and together, we head up the steps.
The sun has almost completely set. There are no Inquisitors near the temple, as there is nothing to guard, really, no valuables or jewels—only daily flowers laid at the marble feet of the gods. For once, I have no illusion of invisibility over myself. I walk in plain sight.
The temple is nearly empty. Shafts of evening light penetrate the space from the high windows, painting the air with blue and purple stripes. At the very front of the temple, with his back turned to me, is Teren, crouched low before a statue
of Sapientus, the god of Wisdom. I stop at the door, then carefully remove my boots. My bare feet make no sound against the floor.
Teren doesn’t seem to notice my presence. As I draw closer, I can tell that he’s muttering something under his breath. Louder than muttering, actually. He is talking in earnest, his voice angry and rushed. My tether to Enzo hums. I can still feel him nearby. The others must be too. Magiano must be somewhere in the shadows. But if Teren were to move against me right now, would Magiano save me in time? I’m close enough to see the silver lines engraved on his armor. He’s not wearing his Lead Inquisitor cloak.
The last time I saw him, Enzo lay dead at my feet.
You don’t belong with them,
Teren had said.
You belong with me.
Perhaps he’s right.
I’m close enough now to hear what he’s saying.
“This is not my mission,” Teren insists. He shakes his head and looks up at the statue. His thin blond tail trails down his upper back, the gold bands on it shining in the light. “You put me in this world for a purpose—I know that purpose, have always known it. But the queen—” Teren pauses. “The Daggers have poisoned her against me. Raffaele—he’s working his demonic magic on her.”
An image appears in my mind of Raffaele seducing the queen. Even Giulietta is no match for his charms.
“I can’t leave her like this,” Teren snaps. His voice echoes through the temple, and I freeze. “She is my superior in every way. I have pledged my entire life to obeying her. But
now she wants to send me away, Lord Sapientus. How can I leave her with
them
?”
He sounds confused now, like he is arguing with himself. His voice changes from grief to confusion, then back to anger. “She’s listening to him. She used to listen to
me
. She used to hate the
malfettos
—but now he’s talking her out of our goal. Would she really give up our entire mission of cleansing this country, just to have those abominations fight for her? They are liars and whores, thieves and murderers. They are tricking her, and she is allowing it. Do you know what she said to me when I tried to defend her?” Anger again. “She said I am an abomination,
like them
.” His voice takes on a frightening tone now, somewhere between the borders of fury and madness. “
I am not like them. I know my place.
”
Suddenly he stiffens. I hold my breath. The temple is so silent now that I can hear the rustle of my sleeves brushing against the sides of my robes. For an instant, I think he might not have heard me.
Then, in the blink of an eye, Teren whirls from his crouched position, draws his sword, and points it straight at me. His eyes are chilling, his black pupils floating within them like drops of ink on glass. His cheeks are wet, to my surprise.
His eyes widen a little at the sight of me, then narrow again. “You,” he murmurs. Gradually, his grief fades away, hidden behind a shield, until all I can see is the cold, calculating smile I remember, his eyes still dancing with the light of madness. “Adelina,” he says, his voice turning silky smooth. “What’s this?” He takes a step toward me, his sword still
pointed at my neck. “Has the White Wolf finally decided to stop hiding? Did the Daggers send you?”