Avenged

ONE

THE REMAINS OF Em’s home sat at the bottom of the hill. The Ruina castle was nothing but a pile of stone and dirt, weeds snaking in between the rubble. One wall remained intact, and Em liked to think it was her mother who had made sure of that. Even in death, her mother had made one last stand.

Olivia sucked in a breath as she reached the top of the hill. I thought there would be more left.

Em took her sister’s hand. Olivia was taken prisoner before their home was demolished and most of the Ruined exterminated. It was her first time seeing the castle like this.

Olivia squeezed Em’s hand too tightly. Don’t worry, Em. We’ll make them pay.

Olivia kept saying things like that. Don’t worry, Em. She still worried. Don’t cry, Em. They will fear us soon enough. She’d said that to Em immediately after killing the Lera queen. Em didn’t tell her sister that she was certain everyone already feared them.

I thought they might have cleared it away, Aren said as he stopped beside Em. He was haggard, his handsome face tight with exhaustion. The Olso warriors had been able to spare a couple of horses, but most of the Ruined made the journey on foot, and they all desperately needed a day or ten to rest.

At least now we can sift through it and see if anything is left, Olivia said.

I looked a year ago, Em said. All I found was your necklace.

"Your necklace, Olivia corrected. I told you I want you to have it."

Em smiled, dropping Olivia’s hand and grasping the O pendant.

Olivia pointed to the castle. Are we setting up camp here? We could put the hunters’ heads on spikes nearby, as a warning to others.

Em swallowed down a wave of disgust and tried not to let it show on her face. Olivia and Aren had left a trail of dead bodies behind them as they traveled from Lera to Ruina over the past week. Em had convinced them to leave King Casimir and his cousin, Jovita, alive at Fort Victorra, but she hadn’t bothered arguing for the hunters’ lives. There was no point. Perhaps they deserved to die, after exterminating thousands of Ruined.

That’s what she kept telling herself, anyway.

They know, Em said. I don’t think there’s any need.

Besides, I don’t want to smell dead-hunter head while I sleep, Aren said.

It’s your decision where we set up camp, Em said.

Why is it my decision? Olivia asked.

Because you’re the queen.

They voted to abolish the monarchy after I was taken, Olivia said. And their elected leader is dead. So, technically, I’m nothing.

They thought you were dead, Em said. I’m sure they consider you their queen again.

Olivia shrugged. Let’s have a meeting in a few days, when most of the Ruined have found their way back. For now, I say we build a camp right here. Let the Lerans and the hunters know we’re not scared of them anymore.

We’re not scared anymore? Aren asked quietly. A new Ruined mark had appeared on his left hand recently, a white swirl against his dark skin, and he rubbed at it absently.

Cas promised to leave us alone, Em said, not for the first time.

Aren and Olivia exchanged a look. Em had insisted they’d be safe, that the war against the Ruined was over. Cas had said he wouldn’t continue the attacks on the Ruined now that he was king. Em believed he would keep his word.

Olivia and Aren were not convinced.

An icy wind blew Em’s coat open. She shoved her hands into the pockets and pulled it tight around her body. She’d taken the coat and the clothes she was wearing from a Ruined killed at the battle of Fort Victorra. She’d needed something other than the blue dress she’d worn to cross the Lera jungle, but the clothes still made her squirm when she thought about it too hard.

Em turned at the sound of laughter and saw a group of about a hundred Ruined emerging from the trees. They were exhausted from the battle at Fort Victorra, and dirty from days of walking, but smiles lit up their faces as they took in the remains of the Ruina castle.

We’ll set up here, Olivia confirmed with a nod.

It’s more brown here than I remembered, Aren said to no one in particular.

Em had to agree. She and Aren had spent weeks in lush, green Lera, next to the ocean with sparkling clean beaches. Ruina did not look good in comparison. The grass was brown and dead, the sparse trees bare. Past the castle was a giant patch of empty dirt where a cluster of shops used to be. They weren’t much to look at when they were standing anyway.

She stared at the pile of debris that used to be her home. Maybe she should have suggested a different location. How long was this going to be her view? How long would she have to sleep on the ground while staring at the spot where her bedroom used to be?

The room took shape in her head—the bed with piles of pillows, the full-length mirror on the wall where she used to stand and desperately search for Ruined marks when she was younger. The worn green chair in the corner where she curled up to read.

She expected tears to come, but a hollow feeling settled at the bottom of her stomach instead. The girl who had lived in that room was gone, and maybe she was relieved that the room was gone as well. They all needed a fresh start. They could rebuild Ruina to be even better than it was before. Safer than it was before. Em hadn’t slept without a weapon within her grasp in a year. If there was one thing she needed—one thing all the Ruined needed—it was to find a way to feel safe again.

I’ll check on the wagon, Em said. She jogged down the hill. The wagon they’d stolen from the Lera soldiers was slowly making its way through the trees, pulled by two tired horses.

They’d mostly piled supplies for tents and extra water in the open-air wagon, but a few children and sick Ruined were inside as well. A young Ruined man named Jacobo walked alongside the horses. Mariana walked on the other side, her black braids moving as she nodded at Em. Both Mariana and Jacobo had Ruined marks on their dark-brown skin, the white lines curling up their necks and even across a cheek, in Jacobo’s case.

It’s— Em was about to say clear, when a flash of movement caught her eye. The bush to her right rustled.

She drew her sword, catching Jacobo’s eyes and nodding to the bush as she stepped toward it. He walked to the wagon, gesturing for the three children inside to come closer to him. Mariana froze.

Em carefully stepped over a log. Someone sniffed.

She parted the leaves of a bush with her blade. Two men were crouched on the ground. Their clothes were dirty, and one man had so many patches on his coat it was an array of different colors. He had a dagger clenched in his fist, but the other didn’t have a weapon. Neither had any blue pins. They weren’t hunters.

Who are you? she asked.

We’re just trying to get across to Vallos, the man with the dagger said. He stood slowly. His legs shook beneath him. He was staring straight at her chest.

That’s not what I asked. Who are you?

We’re Vallos laborers working in the Ruina mines, he said to her chest. Are you . . . are you Emelina Flores? He said her name in a hushed, almost reverent, tone.

She frowned in reply, unsure how he knew that.

The circle of vengeance. I’ve heard about it.

The what?

Your necklace. The circle represents vengeance. ‘What goes around comes around,’ as they say.

Her lips twitched. Did everyone really think that was what her necklace symbolized?

The circle of vengeance. How fitting. Olivia would love it.

The man with the dagger held the weapon in front of him, but it shook in his grasp. The other had his arms pressed to his chest, fear oozing out of his every pore. She’d earned a reputation, it seemed.

Go, she said, jerking her head. Don’t come back.

They both spun around and sprinted away from her. Everyone ran from her now. People whispered her name, as that man had. They said it with fear.

It was what she had always wanted.

It did not feel as good as she had expected.

TWO

CAS’S MOTHER WAS buried behind Fort Victorra, in a shady spot where flowers would probably bloom in the spring.

Cas never went there. He’d watched the soldiers bury her the day after Em and Olivia disappeared, and he’d never been back.

Instead, he came to where she died.

It had rained two days ago and washed all the blood away. There was nothing left but dirt and grass and trees. The trees had been full of red and orange leaves a few days ago, but now the branches were mostly empty, the leaves smashed beneath his feet. The ugly trees seemed more appropriate, given what had happened here.

He could still see it. Em almost dying in his arms. Olivia killing his mother and rescuing her sister.

You don’t deserve to be here, a voice behind him said.

For a moment, he worried the voice was in his head. He’d been thinking the same thing. But he turned and found his cousin standing a few paces away. Jovita had her hands on her hips, ice in her eyes as she glared at him. Her dark hair blew in the wind, and an angry red scar cut down her right cheek. Em had given her that scar. She looked a little like his father. They had the same olive skin and wide mouth.

He turned away.

It’s not safe, anyway, Jovita said. Her tone was more scornful than concerned.

The Ruined are gone. The warriors are gone.

And whose fault is that? Jovita stepped beside him, tapping her chin like she was thinking. Oh, that’s right. It’s your fault. For freeing Olivia Flores and letting Emelina waltz right out of here.

It was his fault. He’d freed Olivia, and she’d killed his mother. Right after his mother almost killed Em.

He couldn’t muster up any anger for Olivia. He was mostly just sad.

I want the necklace, Jovita said, holding her hand out. The one the queen gave you, with Weakling in it.

I buried it with her, he said.

Her jaw clenched. That was stupid, Cas. That necklace could have protected me from the Ruined.

Cas shrugged. The Weakling herb hurt most Ruined, but it barely seemed to slow Olivia down. He doubted the necklace would have offered much protection.

If she’d kept that necklace instead of giving it to you, she might still be alive, Jovita spat. And you just—

Two more advisers arrived during the night, he interupted. I’m meeting with them in an hour if you want to join.

No. Jovita turned away and started walking.

Why? Because you already met with them behind my back?

Jovita stopped. She looked over her shoulder, arching an eyebrow. If you know, then it’s not really behind your back, is it? She stomped away. He watched her go, an uneasy feeling swirling in his gut.

A guard emerged from the trees as she left. It was Galo, lurking near Cas as usual. The captain of his guard rarely let Cas out of his sight these days, even when Cas would prefer to be left alone. The price of being king. Today, Galo’s boyfriend and fellow guard, Mateo, was with him. Mateo stood a few paces away, his back to them as he surveyed the area for possible threats.

Cas stuffed his hands in his pockets, rounding his shoulders against the cold wind as he walked back to the fortress. Galo fell into step beside him, Mateo trailing behind them.

Everything all right? the guard asked quietly.

Probably not.

Galo appeared concerned, but Cas didn’t elaborate. The castle and most of his kingdom was in the hands of Olso. His cousin hated him. His parents were dead. Em was gone, and he would likely never see her again.

There wasn’t much left to say.

We confirmed the governor of the southern province died in the attack on the castle, Galo said. But his daughter didn’t, and she’s here. Violet Montero. She found me this morning and asked to speak with you.

She’s here? When did she arrive?

Same time as you, apparently. She was lumped in with the staff and no one knew at first. She’s been ill.

Is she better?

Yes.

The fortress loomed in front of them, and Cas stepped over a pile of bricks into the front yard. Portions of the wall had been blown out when the Ruined and warriors attacked, and it was still damaged. It would be quite a while before it was fully repaired. Beyond the wall was Fort Victorra, a square, mostly windowless pile of bricks that Cas had come to hate.

She’s probably in the breakfast room now, if you wanted to see her, Galo said. I can get her.

That’s fine, I’ll go look. Will you confirm with the two advisers who arrived last night that we’re meeting in an hour?

Of course. Galo rushed off.

Cas should have chosen a personal adviser by now. Galo was the captain of his guard, not his errand boy, and he felt guilty making him do both jobs.

But Fort Victorra wasn’t like the Lera castle. There wasn’t enough staff, and Cas had to do many things himself. There was no longer a whole crew of people to wait on him hand and foot and announce visitors.

A soldier held open the front doors of the fortress as he approached, and he murmured a thank-you and stepped inside.

He blinked as his eyes adjusted to the dark. Lanterns lined the wall as he left the entryway and walked into the large foyer, but they did little to cheer up the place.

The first few days after the attack had been quiet in the fortress, but soon people from all over Lera began to arrive, after the Olso warriors took the castle and the northern cities. Now the small building was bursting at the seams, libraries and common areas turned into sleeping quarters. Several people walked down the stairway to his left, and they froze at the bottom when they spotted him. He pretended not to notice.

He walked through the foyer and into the small room off the kitchen. Many of the guests gathered in the room every morning, so it had been dubbed the breakfast room. Several round tables were scattered about, men and women seated at them. They didn’t have a lot of food, but there were some beans and fish on the tables.

Heads turned as he walked in, voices quieting. He realized he had no idea what this Violet girl looked like.

I need to speak with Violet? It came out as a question. He hadn’t learned to speak the way his father did, like every sentence was a command.

A slight young woman in a plain black dress stood. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun, accenting her high cheekbones and large, dark eyes. She appeared tired, but she smiled at Cas. She looked vaguely familiar.

Here, Your Majesty. Despite her short stature, her voice easily carried across the room. She walked to him.

The wagon. He’d been put in a wagon with the staff the night his father died and the castle was taken. That was how he knew her. She’d helped him escape.

I know you. Splinters in odd places, he said, repeating the words she’d said to him as she helped him slip out a crack in the wagon.

She let out an embarrassed laugh. That was me, Your Majesty.

Everyone in the room was staring at them, and he spun on his heel, gesturing for her to follow him.

There was no place indoors he felt comfortable speaking privately, so he led her outside, to the back of the fortress. The building was still missing a portion of the rear wall since a Ruined had destroyed it, and he walked far enough away that they couldn’t be overheard. To his left, a few staff members were tending to the garden, but they were out of earshot.

I heard you were sick, he said as he stopped and turned to Violet.

Yes. The conditions in the wagon were . . .

Terrible, he said, a wave of guilt crashing over him. He’d managed to save the staff he abandoned in the wagon, but it took several days. He couldn’t imagine being stuck in that hot, stuffy wagon for so long. He didn’t know how many had died, but it was too many.

I never got a chance to thank you, she said. For saving us. We know Jovita wanted you to leave us, and we all appreciate what you did.

Of course. I couldn’t just abandon you.

Yes, you could have. She held his gaze as she spoke. I haven’t introduced myself properly. Violet Montero. My father was the governor of the southern province.

I heard. Why didn’t you identify yourself in the wagon?

It didn’t seem all that important. What would you have done with that information?

She had a point. He could barely think straight in the wagon. His father had just died and he’d still been reeling about Em. Violet could have told him she’d suddenly sprouted three extra heads and he probably would have simply shrugged.

There are people here who know me, she said. If you’d like to confirm.

I would. Can’t blame me, can you? After Emelina pretended to be the princess of Vallos and his fiancée, he’d likely never take anyone’s identity at their word ever again.

No, I can’t.

Why didn’t we meet in the castle? he asked.

I’d just arrived when the attack happened. I was going to come to the wedding, but my grandmother was ill and I was taking care of her.

I’m sorry about your father, he said.

Yours too.

Is your mother still alive? His breath hitched in his throat, and he focused on a spot past her shoulder.

No. She died a few years ago.

Are you the eldest child?

The only.

Then you’ve inherited the southern province. He meant for the words to sound congratulatory, but they came out weary instead. He wondered if she was as thrilled to inherit the southern province as he was to inherit the throne.

I have. I heard you were going to meet with advisers soon, and I thought I should be included.

You should. The south is the only province that hasn’t been taken over by Olso.

It is. She said it with pride.

A powerful wind swept over them. Violet pulled her arms against her chest as her dress flapped in the cold breeze. She didn’t shiver, even though she must have been freezing.

Have you spoken with Jovita yet? he asked carefully.

No, Your Majesty.

You can call me Cas. He didn’t let anyone but Galo and Jovita call him Cas, but he knew how important this girl was. He needed her as an ally. As a friend. He glanced at the fortress and took a step closer to her. Will you tell me if Jovita tries to speak with you? About anything?

Violet drew her eyebrows together. Is something wrong?

No. My cousin isn’t very fond of me at the moment. I’d like to know I have you on my side if needed.

I’m already on your side, Your—Cas.

At least someone was. Thank you, Violet.

THREE

OLIVIA LIFTED HER head to the sky and took in a long breath. The sun had just come up, but it was hidden behind dark clouds. A chilly wind blew her dark hair across her face. After a year locked in a Lera dungeon, every breath of fresh air was a gift.

She plopped down in the middle of the rubble that used to be her home. She hadn’t believed that the castle was completely gone. Olivia had thought there would be walls still standing, chests of her mother’s clothes to sift through. But the fire had burned everything. The humans’ fear had destroyed everything, precisely as her mother said it would.

She nudged a blackened piece of wood aside to reveal a white eye and a nose peeking out at her. The statue of Boda. She grabbed it to find only half of her head was left. Olivia must have been sitting in the remains of the library. The statue of the ancestor had stood in the corner since Wenda Flores became queen.

Olivia closed her eyes, the image of her mother taking shape in her mind. Her long dark hair was often loose, flying behind her as she zipped around the castle. She wore lavish dresses even when there was no occasion, and Olivia would always associate the sound of skirts swishing with her mother.

She tossed the statue head aside. Her mother’s favorite ancestor had done nothing to save her, in the end. If anyone was going to save the Ruined, it was going to be Olivia.

Liv.

Olivia turned to see Em walking to her. Olivia could sense humans and Ruined around her, even at great distances. But not Em. Em wasn’t human or Ruined. She was the only person in the world who could sneak up on Olivia.

In Olivia’s mind, she still saw the Em she’d known the first fifteen years of her life. The Em who was sarcastic and often surly, bitter about her uselessness and annoyed at having to watch Olivia practice her magic.

Or maybe she was scared, not bitter. In the past, Olivia would often look over at her sister to find Em turned away, wincing at the screams of a man Olivia was torturing. Olivia would sometimes pretend not to be able to remove a head simply because she didn’t want to see the horrified expression on her sister’s face.

Fear was no longer an option for Em. The year she’d spent away from Olivia had made her ruthless and dangerous. She had the same olive skin and dark hair, but the sadness in her eyes was new. Olivia thought she had it bad in the dungeon. She wasn’t even fully able to grasp what Em had been through the past year.

Despite the horrors she’d endured, Em had taken down Lera, organized the Ruined, and saved Olivia. And they called Em the useless one. Olivia’s mouth tasted bitter suddenly.

About fifty more Ruined just arrived, Em said as she sat down next to Olivia. They said they had no trouble getting out of Olso. Apparently the Olso king invited them to stay, but didn’t try to detain them when they declined.

Attempting to keep them against their will would have been deeply stupid, Olivia said.

I expect we’ll be seeing some warriors soon.

You think so?

They wanted us to go to Olso to meet their king. I can’t imagine they’ve decided to let us go.

Olivia snorted. "Let us? We don’t need them to let us do anything."

We don’t want to make enemies of the warriors, Em said. We’re not strong enough to stand on our own yet.

Olivia took in a long breath, batting down the rage that swelled in her chest. Em was right, as much as she hated to admit it.

I’ll have to negotiate with the warriors, won’t I? Olivia asked.

Probably.

What if I kill them instead? She grinned. Take a strong position right out of the gate.

I can’t tell if you’re kidding.

Olivia tilted her hand back and forth. Kind of. Not at all, actually. The only thing that lessened her rage was to rip someone to shreds. She could still feel the Lera queen’s heart in her hand. The pulse against her palm. The queen had deserved it. She’d been there during several of the experiments they’d run on Olivia. Ripping the queen’s heart out of her chest had been kind, actually.

I really suggest you don’t kill them, Em said.

Fine. She’d find someone else to kill. There were plenty of Lera hunters running around Ruina, attempting to get out now that they were the ones being hunted. She would close her fingers around each of their hearts soon.

We need to find more permanent shelter, Em said. I’d like to take a group out to the coal miners’ lodgings. They should be abandoned by now, and we can use them until the castle is rebuilt.

Olivia remembered the coal miners’ lodgings. They were small and pitiful, in need of updating years ago.

Is that really our best option? Olivia asked.

Em nudged a piece of rubble with her shoe. Unfortunately.

Olivia thought of the fortress, with its sturdy walls and enough rooms to house a small army. Casimir was comfortable, while they sat in the mess that used to be their home. The Lerans had always been comfortable, since they took Lera from the Ruined and cast them out.

The cabins aren’t much, but I think we’ll be able to house all the Ruined there, Em said.

You still want to take care of them? Olivia asked.

What do you mean?

The Ruined turned their backs on you. Everyone, except for Aren, chose to follow someone else. Someone who is now dead.

Sadness flickered across Em’s face at the mention of Damian. Olivia had no sympathy for their dead friend, even if he had helped Em. He’d grown up with Em and Olivia only to betray them when they needed help the most. He deserved to be beheaded by the Lera king.

They were scared, Em said. And I proved that they were wrong to reject me.

"You sure did. And I did nothing but sit in a cell and plot