The Needle's Edge.
Gazda, Erydia.
Tuesday and Wednesday.

I thought a lot about my mama over those next few days.

According to Jax, what had happened in Third Corps wasn't public knowledge, so the odds of my mother even knowing that my brothers were dead was slim. In some small way, I envied her.

She didn't yet know the heartache I felt. She didn't feel the lack of them in her life the way I did each and every time I thought of Ambrose or Kace. And the thinking of them was nearly impossible to stop.

It hit me at odd times.

Sometimes, Jax would look at me or his hand would rest on my shoulder in just the right way that it would remind me of Ambrose. It was hard to stomach. So was listening to Dellacov and Cohen discuss plans for our reentry into the palace. I'd go through the servant's entry with Birk and Em, but most of the rebels would come in through various other entries—including the tunnels we'd first used to escape the palace all those months ago.

Remembering that day was strange because I no longer felt the hurt of what Kace had done. Instead, I wished our last conversation had been different. We'd both been mad. And maybe we'd both had a right to be upset with each other. But if I could go back, I wouldn't change my actions, but I would change my words.

Perhaps not on that day, but on the days before it. Instead of seeing Kace's wish to be a soldier as a desire to abandon our family, I should have supported his dream of wanting to follow after our father's footsteps. I should have seen it as his way of providing. Yes, his way was different than Ambrose's, but he'd still meant to take care of us.

Of the three of us, he was the only one still looking out for mama when it really came down to it. And I couldn't hate him for it. Not anymore.

And while I thought of my brothers often, my mind was constantly on my mother. I think this was because we spent most of Tuesday and Wednesday sewing. I had only the most basic sewing skills—mostly those needed for mending, not constructing. Mama had taught me.

My mother had been good at making clothes. Or as good at making clothes as you could be when you didn't have nice fabric or the right supplies. When I was little, she would cut up old table clothes or her worn out dresses and make things for me. She'd spread the fabric out on the kitchen floor and use old newspaper to form a pattern.

Watching her sew was like watching something magical take shape. It never looked like a dress when she was putting it together on the floor. It was just bits and pieces of cloth—often already stained and torn. But whatever would emerge from that shredded pile was made special for me. It would feel like warm fires and love.

My mother had always sewn with the skill of someone whose stitching was often in skin and not in cloth. Healing and midwifery were her passions—the sewing of clothes was a necessity. The two things were different. But she'd still managed to teach me to hem and stitch and gather. She'd still created nice things for me. Things I should have better appreciated at the time.

Sitting next to Em, sewing pouches of explosive powder into the hem of a cream and silver gown, I wished regret was as easy to undo as a few stitches. I wished mistakes could be undone as quickly as a bodice could be let out. But those things lingered. And they feasted so easily on me.

***
Thursday.

I'd just woken up, my fingers sore and my eyes aching from sewing into the early morning hours, when a message arrived from Arden. Birk was excited, his voice a sharp whisper as he leaned over the table and explained that the first shipment of tacet had made it into the palace. As of three days ago, the placebo drug had started to be exchanged for the real thing.

With any luck, the ability-numbing drug would be entirely gone by tomorrow when we attacked. And if it wasn't, hopefully it would be dimmed enough that I could still light the explosives when Arden gave his signal. They'd waited until this morning to hopefully stall Larkin or Kinsley realizing the change.

At this point, Arden felt certain that Larkin was still on tacet—everyone seemed to agree that she was unhinged and untrustworthy. Whether or not Kinsley was still on the drug remained to be seen. She'd been able to use her ability in the arena with Harper, so I doubted it.

"They won't give it away," I said, "Kinsley and Larkin won't risk their abilities being silenced again. If they notice the change, I don't think they'll say anything to Caine about it."

"But will they suspect?" Jax asked.

He'd been fidgety all day—even now, his hands flexed at his sides. I knew Harper was the reason. Her death was the reason. It had weighed heavy on all of us, but her loss had been symbolic for most. A death that had been unnecessary and terrible and harsh. Harper had become a martyr—and she was mourned by most of the rebels in a dull sort of way.

But not Jaxon.

Her death was real to him. Her death was the death of a million small dreams. Like me, his grief pushed him to action. It made him want to fight back, want to act. He'd barely rested at all since we'd delivered the papers on Sunday night. Now he was running on black coffee and too-little sleep.

His eyes were hollow and glassy, but his words still held passion as he said, "I don't want her to see us coming. I—I want her to scream and beg. I—" he swallowed and glanced around the table.

There was only a few of us here—Cohen, Nadia, Heidi, Tavin, Birk, and me. The rest had gone to various safehouses to make arrangements for tomorrow. Upstairs, Mim and Emilie still sewed explosives into the gowns.

"I want to kill her," Jax whispered. "I want to torture her the way she tortured Harper." His voice broke against her name. "I've never hated anyone as much as I hate her."

I half expected Heidi to argue—since she'd always been vocal about her desire to end Kinsley. But she didn't go against him, she only nodded and met his gaze from across the table. "To the honest, death is too good for Kinsley. She deserves far worse."

Jaxon only nodded.

I reached across the table and slid the letter from Arden towards me. "Did he say anything about what he wants me to do tomorrow?" I asked as I scanned Arden's elaborate handwriting. The tutor turned spymaster may not have aligned with my expectations, but he certainly had the penmanship of someone incredibly educated. I struggled with the swooping curve of his letters and the tight rows of ink. Cohen and Uri both wrote like that too—now I could see where they'd gotten it.

Birk nodded. "Yes. He wanted me to talk to all of you about that too. So, tomorrow morning, before dawn, Dellacov will lead a group into the city to prepare the distraction in the arena. They're gonna place the explosives and get things all set up. We have a few city guards on our side and they've already established the patrolling patterns so we won't be noticed."

Cohen lifted a brow at that and Jax nodded. "After what happened with Harp, we've had a lot of people seek out the rebellion. Friends of mine already sort of suspected I was involved and they volunteered to help us."

"And you trust these people?" Cohen asked, incredulous. "It could easily be a trap."

Jax nodded. "They're starving, broken people like me. Like most of us. City guards aren't the richest of the rich. We come from outside cities, cities with more poverty than prosperity. And we put our lives at risk here, in Gazda, so we can have some semblance of a future. It isn't—These aren't the sort of people who would betray us. What we're fighting for is what they want. It's what all the smaller cities want."

Cohen nodded slowly, clearly unconvinced. "And you don't believe Caine would bribe them? More food on their table, more coins in their pockets—it would be easy for one of your so-called friends to decide the reward is worth more than the risk."

"They're good people," Jax said, his words turning sharp. "They have no reason to—"

Cohen cut him off. "The same reasons they'd join the rebellion are the same ones Caine could use to lure them into turning on us. If we aren't sure, they could lead us to our deaths."

Jaxon gritted his teeth, biting back an annoyed response. The way he flexed his fingers, the way the muscles in his jaw twitched, told me we were heading for a fight.

I forced a smile and stepped forward, drawing the group's attention to me. "I'm sure if Arden trusts these people to ensure the rebels safety into the arena, then they can be trusted. Britta chose him as spy master for a reason. He clearly knows what's going on and would have examined all of these guards thoroughly. Let's..." my smile faltered as I met Jaxon's tired eyes. I reached out and twisted my fingers in the fabric of his jacket. "Let's not argue with each other." The words came out soft.

Fragile. He was so fragile.

Birk cleared his throat. "Let's trust the process." His smile was too wide, too tight as he said, "Good old Arden has a stick up his ass, that's for sure—but he's never failed us. Let's let him take the lead, yeah?"

Nadia smiled and took Cohen's hand. "Yes. Let's trust Arden." When Cohen didn't look away, she gave his hand a tight squeeze. "We're all friends here."

Heidi made a sound at the back of her throat. "Not me. I don't like any of you. First opportunity, I'm selling you all out to Caine." The room fell deadly silent as all eyes turned to Heidi. For a moment, she only stared back. Then, she rolled her eyes. "Goddess, laugh a little, will you? It's a joke."

And like that, the tension in the room dispersed.

I failed to hide my smile as I said, "Heidi, I think you're literally the last person Caine would agree to work with."

She plopped down into one of the chairs at the table's edge and sighed. "Yeah, because he has enough sense to read the room. It isn't like I've tried to hide how much I hate him."

"Very true."

Nadia leaned against the wall, her fingers still threaded with Cohen's as she asked, "What else did Arden say? Our people set up the trap in the arena and then what?"

Birk shot her a grateful glance for getting us back on topic before he said, "Around noon, me, Em, Monroe, and a few others will go to the palace with the gowns for Kinsley. We'll take a private transport and enter through the servant's entrance. Once inside, we'll begin setting up the dresses for Leroux's tour—which is scheduled for three tomorrow afternoon."

Tomorrow.

Every time someone said it, every time I thought about it, my gut clenched. Tomorrow. In only a matter of hours, I would see Kai. We'd kill Caine and I'd—I'd stop them from hurting him. I'd stand between him and Darragh's entire army, if it came to it.

Tomorrow.

Heidi must have seen my expression because she said, "Cool it, Benson. No one's died yet."

I chewed the inside of my cheek and nodded. She was right. Today didn't have room for tomorrow's worries. I'd deal with Kai when we got to that point. Not now. Right now, I needed to know— "Yesterday, Jax mentioned something about lanterns...?"

Birk nodded. "Yeah. We've got an oil lantern and a kerosine lantern. Arden plans to have eyes on both the arena and what's happening the palace. He'll use two lanterns. He'll light both once the diversion in the arena has begun. Then, once Caine's troops have left the palace and arena has actually exploded, he'll extinguish the oil lantern.  He'll keep the kerosine lantern going until everyone is in their place—then he'll extinguish it. When the kerosine lantern goes out—that's your signal to light the explosives."

"Seems...flimsy," I said, already a little overwhelmed and confused. "What will happen if Arden is found and the lanterns are extinguished too early?"

Cohen sighed. "They won't be."

I started to argue with him. "But there's no guarantee—"

"We have no guarantees about any of this, Monroe," He said. "Some things we will just have to have faith in. Like Arden's lanterns and you."

Jax nudged my shoulder with his own. "We'll practice it. And I'll help you keep it straight. It'll all go to plan."

"Will you be in the palace?" I asked.

He nodded. "Not right away. Not when you're putting up the gowns. But I'm set to go in with Dellacov and Cohen. We're going to break into the armory and I can come find you once that's done. There'll be a lot of communication going on between the different groups and Arden. I'll try to help you know when to light the explosives. We'll need to be careful to make sure our people are out of those blast zones."

"Timing will be everything," Birk agreed. "Can you handle that? Being able to watch the lanterns and set off the explosives, I mean."

Anxiety scrapped talons against the inside of my chest as I said, "I can do it. I—I'm sure I can do it."

I'd figure it out.

Jax nodded quickly. "We'll practice it, I'm sure Mim can find some lanterns for us to use."

I nodded and glanced back to Birk. "And our goal in all of this is to...?"

"Well," Birk said, "with any luck, we'll eliminate some of Caine's forces with the arena blast. I'm not sure exactly what the plan is for that diversion, but it'll be big enough to draw the brunt of his personal army and hopefully some of the Erydian soldiers out of the palace and into Gazda. We have enough rebels hidden here to cause some damage. And we'll also have people from Haniver and Pellarmus. Darragh has arranged for some attacks on temples and factories in some of the other cities tonight. We know that Caine is pulling in his forces, preparing for us to strike. He doesn't know we're already here. The attacks tonight will cause Caine to disperse those forces again to deal with the smaller skirmishes. So, tomorrow, what he has already in Gazda will have to be split between the arena and the palace. The explosions we'll set tomorrow with the gowns will knock out even more troops."

Cohen nodded and gestured to me. "If you can wait for Arden's signal, we'll have Darragh's army and Haniver's forces ready to infiltrate the palace. Caine's men will already be spread thin and the palace will be in an uproar. He won't be able to regain control, not before we've slipped in. It should be a quick take over from there. Our biggest obstacles will be dealing with the other goddess-touched girls. Kinsley and Larkin could both cause issues for us."

Heidi leaned back in her chair. "I'll deal with them."

"We'll all deal with them," I corrected. "It isn't just your fight. We've all got a claim on Larkin's head."

She smiled, more of a barring of teeth than anything else. "I'll fight you for it, Benson."

"Give it a rest."

She narrowed her eyes at me. "Bitch."

I gaped at her, feigning surprise at the insult. "Rude."

"A bit grumpy today, aren't we, Heidi?" Nadia's lips twitched as she tried to hide a smile. She frown and crooned, "Does somebody need a nap?"

Heidi pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled loudly. "What did I do to deserve such great friends...?"

Nadia met my eyes. "Friends?"

I nodded. "Weird, right? I hadn't realized we'd been upgraded from enemies."

"Frenemies at best," Heidi conceded.

Tavin let out a loud laugh. He was grinning from ear to ear, but he quickly sobered as Heidi turned to look up at him, her eyes narrowed to slits. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice still filled with amusement. "I—uh—They're both the worst. The absolute worst."

She rolled her eyes as she turned that nightmare gaze back to Nadia and me. "I'm starting to understand why the goddess wanted only one of us to live. The two of you are damn near intolerable together."

Birk cleared his throat. "Back to tomorrows plan..."

"Right," Cohen said, his own smile falling away.

I smiled at Heidi one last time and she gave me a crude gesture. I only shrugged before turning my attention back to Birk and Arden's letter. "Is the goal to capture Caine or kill him?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I don't know if Britta or Darragh care either way."

"And what about Kai?" Cohen asked. "He'll be in the palace tomorrow too. Are we trying to capture him unharmed or...?" That ocean-blue gaze slid to me and then quickly away. I wondered what he was hoping for.

Cohen was tired of people dying, but he'd never really cared about his older half-brother. I didn't think Cohen would stand between Kai and Darragh's army. And even though I didn't want to see Kai dead, I couldn't exactly blame Cohen for not caring what happened to him. Their only interactions had been divisive.

Kai hadn't just broken my heart; he'd wounded Cohen deeply too. The shock of a new sibling had come alongside the death of his younger sister—alongside the death of his position at court.

And no matter what Cohen wished would happen to Kai, he had as little say as I did. I would fight for him. I'd put myself in danger to save him because he held my heart—but I couldn't hate Cohen for not wanting to do the same.

I was too tired to hate anyone other than Kinsley, Larkin, and Caine.

Birk's expression darkened as he saw the small silent interaction between Cohen and me. He ran a hand over his short-cropped hair. "We have orders to subdue him. That's the word Darragh used—subdue. He said we could use whatever force necessary to do that—but I don't think he expects much of a fight from the king. Our focus is on Caine more than anything."

I nodded. "Yes, that's because Kai doesn't want the throne. I know he'd give it to Britta and Darragh if he were given the choice. He'd abdicate."

"Maybe that's so," Birk said, looking to me. "I guess we'll see what happens when we get to that bridge. For now, we've got others we'll need to cross first. For instance, you need to be focused on lighting the explosives and keeping an eye on Arden's signals."

Before I could say anything in response, Jax placed a hand on my shoulder. "I think I've got just the thing to help you."

***
Hey. So...

The anxiety has been real recently. And that's made updating this book difficult. I'm struggling a little. Especially as I try to edit TCC. I'm going to be real with you, I'm overwhelmed by it all. Publishing a book is scary. But I want to put this series in your hands IN PRINT. With that being said, I'd love to hear what you liked about the first  TCC book (if you can remember that far back). If you'd be willing to tell me something you liked or enjoyed about TCC, or even what made you continue to read the rest of the series, that would mean a lot to me. You can comment it here or message me privately. I could just use a reminder of what readers liked about that first book (and a little motivation to keep going). And if you don't feel like writing anything, but still want to send me some support, this emoji 🔥 always works too.  👑🧡🥲

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