At that moment, Laia clears her throat pointedly, and Helene draws her scim.
“I thought she was dead.”
Laia grips her dagger tightly. “She is alive and well, thanks. She set him free. Which is more than I can say for you. Elias, we need to leave.”
“We’re escaping.” I hold Helene’s eyes. “Together.”
“You have a few minutes,” Helene says. “I sent the legionnaires the other way.”
“Come with us,” I say. “Break your oath. We’ll escape Marcus together.”
Laia lets out a sound of protest—this isn’t part of her plan. I continue on regardless. “We can figure out how to bring him down together.”
“I want to,” Hel says. “You don’t know how much. But I can’t. It’s not the oath to Marcus that’s the problem. I made another vow—a different vow—one I can’t break.”
“Hel—”
“Listen to me. Right after graduation, Cain came to me. He told me death was coming for you, Elias, but that I could stop it. I could make sure you lived. All I had to do was swear fealty to whoever won the Trial—and hold to that fealty no matter what the cost. That meant that if you won, I’d swear myself to you. If not...”
“What if you’d won?”
“He knew I wouldn’t win. Said it wasn’t my fate. And Zak was never strong enough to stand up to his brother. It was always between you and Marcus.” She shudders. “I’ve dreamt of Marcus, Elias. For months now.
You think I just hate him, but I’m—I’m afraid of him. Afraid of what he’ll make me do, now that I can never say no to him. Afraid of what he’ll do to the Empire, the Scholars, the Tribes.
“It’s why I tried to get Elias to kill you in the Trial of Loyalty.” Hel looks at Laia. “Why I nearly killed you myself. You’d have been one life against the darkness of Marcus’s reign.”
All Helene’s actions of the past few weeks suddenly make sense. She’s been desperate for me to win because she knew what would happen if I didn’t. Marcus would rise and release his madness on the world, and she would become his slave. I think of the Trial of Courage. Can’t die, she’d said. Have to live. So she could save me. I think of the night before the Trial of Strength. You have no idea what I’ve given up for you—the deal I made.
“Why, Helene? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You think the Augurs would have let me? Besides, I know you, Elias. You wouldn’t have killed her, even if you’d known.”
“You shouldn’t have taken that vow,” I whisper. “I’m not worth that much. Cain—”
“Cain kept his vow. He said if I swore fealty and held it, you’d live. Marcus ordered me to swear my loyalty, so I did. He ordered me to swing that ax at your head. So I did. And here you are. Still alive.”
I touch the wound at my neck—a few inches more, and I’d have been dead. She’d trusted the Augurs with everything—her life, my life. But then, that’s who Helene is: Her faith is steadfast. Her loyalty. Her strength. They always underestimate me. I’d underestimated her more than anyone.
Cain and the other Augurs saw it all. When he told me I had a chance at freedom of body and soul, he knew he’d force me to pick between keeping my soul and losing it. He saw what I would do, that Laia would free me, that we’d escape. And he knew that in the end, Helene would swear fealty to Marcus. The vastness of that knowledge staggers me. For the first time, I catch a tiny glimpse of the burden the Augurs must live with.
There is no time to wonder at such things now. The barracks doors creak open, and somebody barks orders. Legionnaires, tasked with sweeping the school.
“After I escape,” I say. “Break the oath then.”
“No, Elias. Cain kept his promise. I’ll keep mine.”
“Elias,” Laia warns softly.
“You forgot something.” Helene lifts her hands and pulls at my mask. It clings tenaciously, as if it knows that once it’s off, it will never get a chance at me again. Slowly, Hel rips it free, rending the flesh of my neck as the metal releases. Blood pours down my back. I hardly notice it.
Footsteps echo in the hall. A mailed hand clanks against the door. I have so much left to say to her.
“Go.” She shoves me toward Laia. “I’ll cover you this last time. But after this, I belong to him. Remember, Elias. After this, we’re enemies.”
Marcus will send her after me. Perhaps not right away, perhaps not until she’s proven herself. But eventually, he will. We both know it.
Laia ducks into the tunnel, and I follow. When Helene reaches for the hearthstone to pull it over me, I grab her arm. I want to thank her, apologize to her, beg her forgiveness. I want to drag her down here with me.
“Let me go, Elias.” She puts soft fingers to my face and smiles a sad, sweet smile that’s mine alone. “Let me go.”
“Don’t forget this, Helene,” I say. “Don’t forget us. Don’t become like him.”
She nods once, and I pray that her nod is a promise. Then she takes hold of the stone and pulls the hearth closed.
Ahead of me, Laia inches forward, her hand outstretched as she feels her way through the dark. Seconds later, she drops from my tunnel into the catacombs with a startled yelp.
For now, Helene can cover for us. But when order is restored at Blackcliff, Serra’s ports will shut down, the legionnaires will bar the city gates, and the streets and tunnels will be flooded with soldiers. The drums will beat from here to Antium, alerting every guardhouse and garrison that I’ve escaped. Rewards will be offered; hunting parties will form; ships, wagons, caravans will all be searched. I know Marcus and I know my mother. Neither will stop until they have my head.