I returned the smirk. “I simply understand negotiating, Prince.”
“And what have you gleaned from that understanding?” Curiosity brightened his tone.
“I know you want something.” I looked over the warrior raised in an environment of malice. “You would not have handed over your information so easily yesterday if it was all you had. You had to give us something in order to gain our trust—to keep us from enacting one sliver of the torture your mother sentenced Malakai to. But I’m willing to bet you retained another bargaining chip.”
As he thought over my words, low coos of night-doves and howls of wild dogs drifted to us.
“And why do you think that?” Barrett finally asked.
“Because it’s what I would have done.”
He considered me with those uncanny green eyes. Then, he said, “You remind me of her, you know.”
Any hint of commiseration between us turned to ice.
“What?”
Barrettlaughed. “She’s not all bad. There are some qualities in my mother that are admirable. Or they would be, if not warped as they are in her.” I clenched my hands into fists, regretting trying to understand him. “Ophelia, regardless of what she’s done, she’s ambitious and protective of those she does love. It manifests in despicably twisted ways, but that much is true. Even you would have seen it. You share that fire, even if yours is lighter—the illumination to her darkness.”
“I am nothing like her,” I hissed.
“Fine, fine. As you say.” But that gleeful smirk did not leave his lips.
“Tell me what you know, Barrett, or those chains will never leave your wrists.” Twisting the cap back on my final canteen, I rose and picked up the bunch. Instead of heading back to the group, though, I followed the stream around the side of the hill.
“My mother was after more than conquering the Mystiques.”
“What was it?” I kept walking, ignoring the quickening of both my pulses.
“I don’t know specifics.”
“Then what help is this?” I groaned, stopping and staring up at the stars. Did my best to not throttle the prince who I thought might be trying to help.
“Because in battle, understanding your opponent’s motivations can be as pivotal as knowing their strategies. And perhaps this war doesn’t look at all how we expected.”
“What do you mean?”
“While we know the previous war was waged to put me in your seat of power”—he kept walking, leading me now—“my theory is that it was a front for secrets darker than we imagined. My mother always has ulterior motives. I don’t think she would share those with anyone.” He stopped. “What do we have here?”
As I caught up to him, I saw it. A cave.
Plenty of caverns dug into the rocky faces of the mountain range, but when we stepped into this one, it seemed different. Like it inhaled upon our entrance, exhaled with each step, the thing alive on its own.
“It’s just a cave,” I said, ignoring the warmth beading in my necklace. “What do you mean with the theory about your mother?”
Waiting for him to speak, I dragged my hand along the cool rock. The walls didn’t move, but that sensation of expanding and contracting stayed within me.
“I’m saying she is after something else.” Barrett didn’t follow me as I walked toward the back of the cave, but I quickly realized there was no end in sight. Odd. “Before I left, I investigated her private quarters and found information on ancient Mystique lore.”
My teeth clenched, and I spun toward him. “That’s private.”
There were legends that we shared between clans, and then therewere the personal onesno onedivulged. The ones guarded by temple acolytes if written down at all. They stretched back to the Angels themselves.
“That’s what I thought,” Barrett agreed. I searched his moonlit face for any hint of betrayal, of misleading, of anything that might reveal this was all a plot.
There was nothing.
“So, Lucidius betrayed the Mystiques again?” I guessed.
