“But what did I do to draw their suspicion? Why would they believe I knew where Xander was?” I still didn’t understand.

“You didn’t do anything, Charlie.” Max’s hand reached over and slipped around mine, squeezing tightly. I didn’t have time to ponder the meaning of the gesture; his next sentence explained it all. “One of the people they tortured was your friend Aron.”

For a moment, I didn’t realize that I’d stopped walking. It wasn’t until Angelina tugged at my hand, reminding me that she was still there . . . that they were all still there, watching me.

I looked up, swallowing the anguish that threatened to clog my throat, my eyes stopping at each one of them. At Max and at X J glI gtheander. At Claude and Zafir, the guards who had sworn their lives to protect their prince. At Xander’s well-armed revolutionaries, including Brooklynn, who had sworn their lives to their cause. And at Angelina, who stared back at me with her trusting blue eyes.

Aron. I couldn’t fathom it. They had tortured Aron to find me. And not because of who I was, but because of who I might know?

It was only a bonus, I supposed, that they’d discovered the missing royal family in th

e process.

I felt sick to my stomach. Max held me up as I swayed, and my fingers clutched his, if only to remain on my feet.

“Did they—” But I couldn’t finished my sentence.

Then Brooklynn, who had been silent up until this moment, finished for me, and in her tormented words I heard her, the person she’d been before I’d lost her to a rebellion. “So it was me they were looking for, not Charlie.” Her voice sounded hollow, and then she whispered her question—our question—on a shaky breath. “Did they kill him?”

“No,” Max answered. “When I left, he was still alive.”

I felt her shuddering sigh all the way from the other side of Angelina, as if it were my own.

There was something about knowing that I wasn’t alone in this, that Brooklynn was still with me, suffering because Aron had suffered, that made me feel stronger, more determined.

I stood upright now, releasing Max’s hand just to prove that I could. I held my back straight. “Then we need to save him. And my parents. Somehow, we need to make this right.”

XVIII

Brook tugged my hand, drawing me away from the others, doing her best to afford us some privacy as we navigated the chiseled corridors, moving farther underground.

“I didn’t know,” she whispered, keeping her voice low and glancing around to make certain no one could hear us. “I never meant for anyone to get hurt. Especially not Aron.” Her dark eyes were sad, filled with regret.

“I know,” I assured her, seeing her differently now. She was no longer the carefree girl I’d known in my childhood, nor was she the hardened revolutionary I’d imagined she’d become. Instead she was passionate, devoted, dedicated. And, still, my friend. “But you do realize that people are going to get hurt if there’s a war, don’t you?”

“We don’t want that, Charlie. We don’t want to fight, but we can’t just go on like this. We deserve to choose what we want to be, who we want to be.”

I didn’t disagree with her reasons, but I didn’t know how to respond, so I didn’t try. “What about me? How long have you suspected—?” I faltered; the right words were difficult to find. “How long did you know who I was?”

“We only just figured it out. Your father did an excellent job of keeping his identity hidden. In fact, your parents weren’t the only ones being watche K behildhod . . . there are other families who’ve been suspected. But then the night the Academy girl—”

“Sydney,” I corrected her.

Brook shrugged, as if knowing her name was somehow distasteful. “The night Sydney came into the restaurant and you spilled water on her, I overheard your parents arguing in the kitchen. Your father was worried that someone might discover the truth if you weren’t careful. He was afraid the queen would learn you existed. I was pretty sure then. After that it was just a matter of getting you close enough to Xander so he could decide if you fit the description.”

“The club?” I asked, understanding dawning.

Brook nodded, the trace of a glint in her eye. “But we left too early that first night. Xander wasn’t there yet.” No wonder she’d been so mad at me when I dragged her out of the club that night, insisting it was time to leave. “You made it easy, though, when you asked if we could go back.” She nudged me playfully with her shoulder, as if we were talking about boys, or school, or anything other than what we were really discussing. “But even then I had no idea what your gift was, what power it was that you were hiding.” She smiled at me then, a wickedly familiar grin. “I wish you would have told me, Charlie. Think of all the cool things we could have done with that little trick!”

“You’re crazy!” I nudged her back, smothering a laugh. This didn’t feel like the right time for laughter, not while my parents were still out there.

“And the night at the park? Did you know what was going to happen?”

Brook’s head dropped shamefully. “I knew something was up. I was told that I needed to keep an eye on you. I figured the best way to do that was for us to go out.” She glanced sideways at me. “I didn’t mean to lose you in the park. When the sirens went off, I looked everywhere. Eventually, I figured you must have taken off with . . . him.”