Red Ruse

Chapter Thirty Six

Mare

Maven's hand burns as he tugs me through the flames, past the portraits, past the guards, past any semblance of the life we could've lived. He could've lived. I would've been six feet under.

I heave. "Did you–"

"No time." He dismisses the nearest guard, still gripping me tight. "Can you make it to the train?"

I choke, coughing up bloody spittle. "I don't–" My eyes are heavy. "I don't think I can."

Maven stops, lips moving in a sound I can't hear. My fingers press against his chest as the rest of me flies away, somewhere safe from this hell of our own making. I faintly register his arms beneath me, the floor disappearing, the smoke growing thicker as my eyes flutter shut.

The rest is a blur.

I know Gwendolyn was there. I know I gripped his shirt so hard it must've torn. I know he started some stupid argument. And now . . .

I crane my head to Ketha, swallowing. "Did you kill him?"

I didn't expect the despair. I didn't expect the ache, the grief, this new hole opening in my chest. "He was running. He was–" I choke. "He was actually going to save me."

"Calm down." Gwendolyn runs a hand along the ruined marble, peering through the new entrance. "He's still breathing."

I heave, leaning down to check his pulse. His cheeks are flushed, strange and gray, and I have the sudden urge to kiss him like a fairytale prince. "Maven!" I smack his cheek, and he stirs, a sharp exhale. "Maven, I swear on your stupid colors–"

His hand twitches. "Mare." He reaches for my cheek. "Where are we?"

My hand flies to my neck, smooth and whole, and my heart skips a beat. "Still in the hall." I swivel, scanning the walls, not yet aflame, and find a new face, one I barely remember. I point to him, unsteady. "Fletcher." My voice is hoarse. "You're a healer?"

He nods. Behind me, Maven rises, staring down the hall. "Mother." I wince. "She's down there. Alone." He quivers. "I have to–"

"No." I hold up a hand, eyes hard. "If you go to her, she won't let you leave. She'll hold onto your mind until the guards come back, until you're in her cage again with nowhere to run." I stare him dead in the eye. "She might even take away the parts that disobeyed her."

Maven halts. He wavers, stepping back, then forward, rooted to the spot as I lay a hand on his shoulder. I lean closer, caressing his chin. "Do you want to leave, Maven?"

I hold my breath. There's something in him that saved me, something in him that wants to finally breathe. The way he faltered when I asked what was still his.

"Yes." Maven pulls away. "But I can't–"

"She's a whisper." I shake my head. "She'll be fine."

He stares at me, a flicker of hesitation, and I grab his hand and pull him towards the hole in the wall. My wrists feel lighter, more electric, and I realize the bracelets are gone. Gwendolyn holds them in one hand, face grim. "We might need these later." She eyes Maven, who finally climbs through the rubble. "Just in case."

My mind races, tallying our losses. "Where's Lupa?" I swallow. "And the rest of the newbloods?"

"On the train." She tucks the bracelets in her bag, swinging it back over her shoulder. "Sara's missing." Her voice is low, almost a growl. "You're right, Your Majesty. So many traitors tonight."