It dawned on me that this wasn’t a normal patrol. This was an ambush. Meaning they were on the lookout. Maybe the soldiers sent to the river were meant to draw out the traitor in their midst, and by me coming and giving the signal, I’d confirmed who their suspect was.
Shit, shit, shit. Already in the line of sight of a few soldiers, I had nowhere to go. My best move was to play it cool, casual, unbothered. I leaned against the side of the masonry building, picking at my nails. What else could I do?
The soldiers circled, indicating I was clearly the intended target.
“Are you the one who stole Taia’s mortar and pestle from King Taja?” one of the soldiers asked from the encroaching ring formed around me.
A string of unique curse words sprung to mind. I knew the palace had been aware of what I’d stolen, since I’d narrowly escaped. Still, after all this time and the multiple trips to Hava City, I thought the coast was clear.
My lips remained tight, biting back a retort that surely Taia, Twin Goddess of the Forest, never actually used the thing and to label it as hers was a bit dramatic. I forced my chest to give the appearance of steady breathing, though my lungs burned and my heart pounded. Innocent people wouldn’t look nervous, and they had no way to pin that on me. How they even suspected me, I couldn’t figure out.
Another soldier chuckled. Not a laugh of amusement, but one of cruelty that sent chills down my spine. “Thought you might be difficult. Let’s loosen those lips, shall we?” His fingers curled, summoning his men forward.
Oh, this wasn’t going to be a good time. I remained against the wall, but every muscle primed to reach for the bow strapped to my back—until Alba emerged through the wall of soldiers, dragged by two of them with a gag in her mouth.
A wave of defeat crashed over me. I’d been willing to fight my way out, or at least try even with the odds stacked against me, but I wouldn’t risk Alba. They knew the leverage they held, swords wielded with the promise of following through.
“Yes, I am the one who stole from Taja’s palace.” I forced out the condemning words from my throat, pushing off the wall, the only security I had against the mob before me.
“His Majesty requests your presence,” the same soldier who asked the previous question said as he stepped forward. Rough hands gripped my arms in a similar fashion to Alba, and we headed towards Kabash. To the scene of my crime; the palace. Toward an awaiting punishment, and away from any potential I had to help my camp.
They’d forced Alba and me to travel in separate wagons, each blessed with the delightful company of multiple soldiers who’d clearly worked all day in the heat smothered by their armor. They’d taken offense when I’d suggested we crack a window for the smell. My face remained neutral, but the cackle in my mind was loud as hell.
My weapons had been taken, my hands bound behind my back in iron chains, but Braxius remained tucked away. Thank the gods.
Escorted through the palace, my chains singing against the smooth polished stone, I knew by our route that we were headed for the throne room. I’d mastered these halls briefly during my undercover stint as a baker’s assistant. Unfortunately, I’d come away with no useful information, only a reaffirmed abysmal opinion on the maniacal ruler—until I made my stay worthwhile by snagging something from the palace’s treasure room.
The sterile decor painted a matching picture of how inviting this man was. Columns bordered the hallways, squared bases carved into ferocious beasts like lions and dragons snapping at those passing by.
I think I’d much prefer those carvings come to life and maul me than face the man I hated most.
We entered the marble drenched room, the sound of a dozen soldiers thrumming against the floor as they brought us before the man who held our lives in his golden embellished hands. Torches flickered their light against the stone, symmetrically framing the gold painted throne before me, raised on a platform to look down on whoever entered, of course.
Our envoy brought us to a halt. “Your Majesty. As requested.”
A hand shoved me forward, and I nearly stumbled. Nevertheless I straightened, and even though his was the last face I wanted to see, I stared directly into Taja’s eyes. No need to hide my anger and disgust, not when I appeared before him as myself.
It would be a public execution. And it wouldn’t be my hand that would fall to the ground, the known punishment for thieves—it would be my head.
I stilled the trembling that rested beneath my skin.
Outward rebellion from a Lesser magic wielder toward the king who despised them all and rained fear over his people. Maybe that’d been my purpose, to leave that legacy to inspire others.
“You know how we found you?” The king splayed his gaudy, ostentatious, ring-covered fingers, admiring the gold and no doubt his own reflection in them. When I refused to have any back and forth, he slid his gaze to me and continued.
“Reports in my castle of a baker’s assistant chatting withrats. And when that same baker’s assistant never returned for her shift, my precious relic also found leave. Coincidental?” he asked rhetorically. Still, I refused to speak.
He chuckled to himself, dusting off invisible dirt from his forest green vest, straightening in his seat. His brown arms were exposed, surprisingly muscled for a king who lapped up decadence and luxury for every meal. Rav pulled off the style much better, even if his finery was nowhere up to snuff from the man before me. Imagining them in a sparring ring, and Rav beating the ever living daylights out of him had me fighting a twitching smile.
“I’d had my soldiers on the lookout for you for quite some time after that. Then, wouldn’t you know, reports of a woman rushing to the aid of an injured donkey. Spewing remarks about thecreature’s complaints. And that same woman crossing the river, no doubt to the camp of rebels that resides on the other side.”
The oily dread of horror doused any flickering hope I’d held onto. Windguardian soldiers weren’t just searching near the river, because he knew exactly where our camp was, and the communication channels we used in Hava City.
Everything I’d thought we’d kept hidden, exposed to the most dangerous man on the continent. Rahana’s only chance now was for some miracle that Braxius could find a way to warn them. I couldn’t communicate with him mentally while bound in iron. I had to pick the opportune moment to shout for him to flee, and pray the soldiers would be too caught off guard to stop him. A bead of cold sweat slid down my back. Maybe it was all already over. Had Taja’s soldiers already made their move against the camp?
“Oh. Did you think I wasn’t aware of your little deserter hideaway in Highcrest? You underestimate me. Maybe if you beg, I’ll spare mercy.” He widened his dark eyes in anticipation of groveling he’d never hear, angling his ear toward me. “Beg, Miss Collins.”
He sullied my name by letting it roll off his deceptive tongue. But all I did was raise my chin higher. A soldier from behind wouldn’t allow me to disrespect his king by remaining silent any longer. The base of his sword collided with the back of my head, making me bend over in pain while I tried to stitch the blurred world back together into one piece.
