A strangled gasp escaped my throat. I moved as if through molasses, praying it wasn’t my sister. The crowd parted, revealing a slumped form sprawled on the ground. Blood pooled around the figure, a mess of gold hair covering his face. I took a shuddering breath, finally able to breathe again. It wasn’t Cassie.Wait. My insides twisted.
“Daddy?” My vision spun, and I collapsed to my knees beside him not even registering the jarring impact. Ryker gripped my shoulders, steadying me from tipping over. Was he...I leaned forward, my hands shaking. Voices rose and fell, but I couldn’t understand them. I brushed the bloody gold hair from his face.
Pain contorted my father’s features, morphing them into an unfamiliar mask. His eyes were clenched shut, his teeth bared in a grimace, but he let out a low moan—he was alive! But for how much longer? Blood still seeped from a gash on his temple and more pooled from another wound I couldn’t see beneath him.
So much blood. He needed help! Could I fix this? Could I save him? Hands trembling, I reached toward my father—
“Your Majesty,” a voice murmured close to my ear, and I started, glancing up. Familiar green eyes met mine beneath a shock of bright red hair. Marshal. “There’s nothing you can do, Princess. They need to get him to the healers if there’s any hope of saving him.”
I nodded dumbly, and several other guards crowded around my father’s still form. They lifted him onto a litter, inciting another round of groans and added expletives, then they were gone, leaving me staring in a daze after them.
“They’ll do everything they can for him.” Marshal gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze before moving away.
“Marshal,” a familiar voice snapped. I looked up through my haze. The empress glided between the crowd, a mint green dress embroidered with darker leaves hugging her tall figure. “What happened here?” He explained the situation to her in hushed tones, and Lilitha’s eyes widened before moving to scan my face.
“Please tell me you didn’t just try to heal your father.” Why had Marshal told her that? I ducked my head, and she drew closer. “You are not trained to heal, and the last time you attempted something so foolish, you were unconscious for almost a week.” I flinched, memories of a young Arrow, broken and bleeding on an outcropping of rocks at the base of a waterfall surfacing in my mind. “Kaleah, look at me when I’m talking to you.”
I forced my head up, squinting against the sunlight framing my mother’s lean form.
“Where were you? We couldn’t find you—”
“I was with Ryker at the stables,” I cut in, still unable to focus.
Lilitha’s eyes moved upward, and I could only assume she was taking in Ryker. “Good. For a moment I was worried perhaps your fears had been founded. I’m glad to know we were both wrong.”
Ryker’s grip tightened on my shoulders, but otherwise, he didn’t move.
“What happened here?” I choked out, staring at the bloody grass where I knelt.
“It appears that somehow another assassin has slipped into our midst,” Marshal said, a few paces away where he was inspecting the scene more closely.
My head shot up. “Another? Did the one you captured after the Harvest Festival escape?”
“No.” My mother pursed her lips. “That would be impossible. He’s dead.”
Ryker’s fingers dug into my skin, his hold becoming painful. Had he known them personally? Been working with them? Regardless—“How the hell did another one get in? And why would they try to kill my father?”
“I don’t know why your father was a target—or even if he was,” Marshal said. “He might have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But as for how the assassin entered, there’s your answer.” Crouched next to the fallen form of a headless golem—my father’s bodyguard—Marshal pointed to the base of the fountain. Rust colored marks were smeared along the stone.
The empress stalked past me, joining her captain. “Blood runes? They used a portal to get in here?”
“It looks that way, Your Majesty.” Marshal grimaced.
“Blood runes? Like the ones we use on the golems?” My stomach twisted as I stared at the marks.
The captain of the guard rose to his feet and crossed his arms. “Essentially, yes, they’re runes made and activated by divine blood.” He gestured to the unidentifiable markings. “These symbols were for a portal. In order for them to work, the runes had to have been put in place beforehand and then one would only need to know the exact sequence of runes in order to activate it and portal here from anywhere in Empyria . . . Whoever did this, they’re not alone.”
Chest heaving, my eyes darted back to the empress. Her beautiful face hardened, and she raised one of her thin eyebrows in an ‘I told you so’ gesture. My already churning stomach dropped—my life span shortening before my eyes. If she’d been apprehensive before, there was no way I was going to be able to sway her now.
“Does that mean one of our people betrayed us and helped them?” I asked, struggling to comprehend this new development.
“Possibly,” my mother said. “But the Outlander’s are not without divine blood either.” Her gaze panned to Ryker, her eyes narrowed. “I would like to believe you innocent in all of this, but as a precaution, you will need to allow the priestess to test your blood and confirm it’s not a match for the blood runes.”
Beside me, Ryker gave a stiff nod.
“Come, daughter,” the empress commanded, beckoning me to follow as she swept away from the crowd of servants and guards, her armed golems trailing after her.
I gave the blood runes one last look and attempted to get to my feet. Ryker’s hands moved from my shoulders to my waist, and he lifted me up like I weighed nothing. “Thank you,” I murmured, surprised by his silent support. He waited for me to move a few steps before releasing me, as if to make sure I wouldn’t collapse again. And even then, he didn’t move from my side as we passed through the gathering, following my mother.