Alicia finds herself by the tunnel again, the night already waning to give way to dusky light. The old train tracks are no longer in use, leading only to the Dead Lands. The train-yard was once a flurry of activity, exporting and importing goods from mines, farms, mills, and more beyond the walls of the capital. These tracks once earned people a lot of money. But now only the sound of the wind through the grass and the creak of ageing metal inhabits this place.

Alicia rubs at her tired and grainy eyes, everything catching up to her.

"Are you alright?" Kieran asks as he crouches beside her prone form.

Glancing up at him, she manages a stiff nod.

She glances ahead again, making sure to keep her head low. Standing between them and the gate they need to open for the other exiles are a handful of the capital's guards. Ex-soldiers most likely, those that took the duke's money to save themselves from exile.

Getting past them won't be easy and regret pricks her heart that she didn't bring Oliver with her. She doesn't particularly want to face his accusing gaze right now.

"How do you want to do this?" Kieran questions, settling down on his stomach on her left.

"Quietly. No one dies."

Kieran nods without argument. "A couple of my men are on the other side of the tracks, at our signal they'll take out the two closest to the gate."

"That leaves the three by the cars to us." Alicia eyes those three guards standing around a barrel of fire, passing a bottle between them. Considering what waits beyond these walls, Alicia understands why these guards would be lax in their duties. No one in their right mind would willingly try to go into the Dead Lands.

Except her, of course.

"We go now before it gets too bright." Together they move down the hill, towards the empty train cars, keeping to the shadows.

They split up, Alicia going around the back of a car to approach the soldiers from the right and Kieran approaching them from the left. Kneeling behind the cart, Alicia watches the shadows of the guards, tossed along the gravel by the barrel of fire. She waits for Kieran's signal.

Alicia shakes out her hands—palms damp with sweat—before she grips the gun tucked into the waistband of her trousers and pulls it out. She's spent the last four months as an exile, she's seen what true monsters look like, she can take down a couple of guards.

A sharp whistle pierces the air and—before the guards get a chance to react—Alicia lunges. The first guard catches the butt of her gun against the back of his skull and he crumbles to the guard. She swings the gun again to the other guard but he catches her wrist and his fist slams into her jaw. The gun is torn from her grip, and her head spins with the blow.

Alicia manages a gasp as a hand encircles her throat before she can think to act, the man showing no remorse as he clenches. Alicia scratches at the soldier's wrist as she tries to suck in a breath, but he drives her back, her boots struggling to find purchase on the loose gravel.

She can't think about anything else at this moment apart from trying to draw in breath, her vision blotting with colour as she fails to do that.

He's too close to her, pushing her against the icy metal of a train car to wrap both hands around her neck, threatening to crush her windpipe. Her sight begins to waver, and she can hear someone shouting, but it's distant, too far away to possibly help her.

Her gaze catches on something within the blooming spots and her heart leaps.

The only person who can help her is herself, the exiles reminded her of that fact.

Forcing sense into her mind, she stops clawing at him and instead reaches down to yank the blade from his belt. With little room to manoeuvre, she shoves it down with fire lighting her gaze. The soldier cries out, stumbling away from her.

Alicia collapses to the ground, gasping air into her aching lungs, her throat burning and tears staining her cheeks. She doesn't see the guard's boot before it sinks into her stomach and Alicia jolts onto her back, near retching as pain tears through her, her insides screaming.

He pulls the knife from his thigh, his face etched into a snarl as his blood drips to the gravel. His lips part to say something, some nasty last words before he cuts her throat, but he doesn't get the chance to. The full weight of a brick falls onto the back of his head and his eyes roll in their sockets before he falls like a sack of stones.

Kieran thrusts his bronze hand out to her and Alicia takes it, allowing him to pull her to her feet as she rubs the tender skin of her neck. "Are you alright?" he asks, moving to touch her throat and Alicia flinches back. Kieran blinks at her, his hands dropping to his sides, and she realises she just flinched away from her brother. Her brother, who used to always kiss her scrapes and bruises, even though he was usually the one who helped push her into a bush of thorns with Adrian. Her brother, the one she used to huddle under a blanket with, pressed shoulder to shoulder as they tried to soak up as much warmth from the fire in their home as possible.

"Why do they always go for the neck?" she croaks out, trying to push down her guilt. Things aren't what they used to be and the sooner they both understand that, the sooner this unease between them will fade.

Kieran's features twist and she knows with a pit forming in her stomach that it wasn't the right type of joke to make.

She thought her edges before exile were jagged, now she's just made up of pieces of glass.

"Come on, let's get this gate up." Walking away from him, she adjusts the crimson scarf around her neck to hide the finger print marks that are no doubt forming. She swipes up her fallen gun, then she rubs her aching jaw and doesn't even bother acknowledging the sharp pain in her ribs that ignites every time she draws in a breath. She has better things to worry about.

She passes the dormant carriages, fingers tracing over the rust as though it can whisper its secrets to her, tell her how this place became what it is. They won the war, and then the world ended.

Approaching the open gate of the tunnel, the darkness within only just managing to be touched by the rising sun, Alicia sighs.

Towards the walls come more exiles, and behind them hundreds, perhaps thousands of Grey Bloods. Soon they'll be under a siege. Muovea won't survive such a thing, even if their walls stand strong, they'll never survive a few more years without the farms beyond the walls.

Alicia's heart picks up its pace as she walks along the tracks, the tunnel seeming much more foreboding now than they ever were when she rode the train to her aunt's farm for work. Without the chatter of her brothers to fill her head, she's reminded of the Ghuls that lurk in such darkness, but they're still trapped in their tomb. At least, she tells herself they are so she can keep going forward.

She makes it through the tunnel and out onto the other side of the wall without a hitch. The cold caresses her skin, tugs at the loose strands of dark hair around her face, and brings with it the noise of the wind through the trees and little else.

All is quiet in the Dead Lands, as still as the grave. But like a grave, Alicia knows something rotten lays. The Dead Lands may seem peaceful, but it's just another lie.

"You came without me."

Alicia's shoulders tighten, every nerve under her skin igniting because they all recognise the voice.

She doesn't turn to face Oliver, knowing she won't be able to meet his eye if she does, so she continues to stare out at the distant tree line. She's a coward, scared of facing the things he wants her to face. He makes her remember the path of redemption she once tried to walk and it just makes her heart ache.

"Alicia."

Tilting her chin up, she finds him from the corner of her eye as he approaches her to stand at her side, the tails of his black coat fluttering in the breeze. "An opportunity presented itself and I took it. My brother is with me."

Oliver sighs. "I know you're in good hands with Kieran, but..."

That sends her gaze rising to meet the sharp steel in his eyes. "You know Kieran?"

"I was a captain in the war, Alicia. I knew a lot of soldiers, Adrian and Ezekial too."

Alicia's breath sticks in her throat like tar at hearing her pa's name. "I thought you were dead," she says. "All that time I thought you were dead, yet there you were."

"Technically, I am dead," he says, pressing his dry lips together. It's then Alicia notices his state, his hair mused like he's been tugging his fingers through it, darkness dusted under his eyes more than usual. He isn't even wearing a waistcoat, just his coat thrown over his wrinkled white shirt and suspenders.

It's been a long night for the both of them. She doubts she looks any better.

"Oliver, I—"

"I'm sorry," he interrupts her, throwing the words at her like they're scolding his tongue and he needs to get rid of them. "You don't owe me answers. You don't owe me anything. I just..."

Alicia reaches down and grabs his hand to intertwine their fingers. He squeezes her hand and something about that eases the weight on her chest. Just knowing he's here, by her side, no matter if they're arguing or not, reassures her that she's not alone, that this fight isn't just being fought by her anymore.

And that someone understands her better than she wants them to.

"I get it," she says, the truth spilling from her lips before she can stop it. "You want me to tell you because you want me to trust you."

Dipping his chin, Oliver faces her more fully. "Is that what I'm doing?"

She rolls her eyes. "So, it's just curiosity then? Or is it about leverage?"

"No, Alicia." His fingers tighten around hers, like he's scared she'll pull away again. And maybe she should, but she doesn't. "I suppose I want you to trust me and I know that's a tall order to make given what we've both been through. Just... know that I'm always here and you can talk to me."

Alicia opens her mouth to reply but then one of Kieran's people with them shouts, pointing towards the trees. She looks ahead and sees them, people breaking free of the shadows coming towards them. Then she notices the horses and carts and the princess with her wild dark hair that walks ahead of them with her chin help high, like they haven't spent the last few days trekking in the woods.

She nearly cries upon seeing them, knowing that they're safe and that Oliver and her didn't go back into that tomb for nothing.

They all look exhausted, taking in the land before them, the place that once was their home, the place that forgot about them.

But they're here.

"Kieran," she says, pulling her hand from Oliver's as he walks forward to greet the other exiles and direct them back through the tunnel. Her brother approaches her, his eyes wide. "Do you have a safe space for these people? We have sick and wounded."

Kieren nods, following her as they walk through the tunnel behind the other exiles. "I can arrange something, though with so many people..." The edge of uncertainty in his voice doesn't ease her worries, but she doubts anything will at this point.

"We'll work something out," she reassures him, looking ahead to where Oliver and the others already wait in the morning sun.

Soon more of the duke's men will come to investigate, but they'll be gone by then with the gates closed. With any luck, Sergey will still be unaware that any of them are within the walls.

Alicia sidles up to Oliver where he talks to Samantha and Galya. Sam gives her a brief nod while Galya's smile is brighter than the rising sun.

"I'd say I can't believe you did it, but..." She shrugs. "That wouldn't be the truth. Thank you, Alicia."

"We're not safe yet." Alicia glances up at Oliver. "It's only a matter of time before the duke discovers we're here."

He nods. "We need to find Lena and the other rebels."

Gnawing on the inside of her cheek, Alicia doesn't argue with him, but realising she has to face more pieces of her past leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. "Work with Kieran," she says instead of focusing on the way her gut churns. "He'll help you all find a safe place. I know where I can find Lena."

As she turns to go, Oliver's hand catches her wrist and she meets his sterling gaze. "Stay safe."

She offers him a tight smile, knowing she can't promise him that.