Chaz glanced at me in confusion, and I narrowed my eyes atLark and Horace. “What are you talking about? Picked who for what?”
Twisting her lips, Lark said, “I think we should wait until Rissa gets here.”
My muscles tightened in frustration. What was going on? And why had Rissa not told me about it?
The leader of our cloaked group was late for the meeting. Clarissa had asked the four of us—her “trusted advisors,” she jokingly deemed us—to meet at the normal tavern in the south sector one final time before the tournament began. We’d claimed a table in a secluded corner of the Drakin’s Lair, where nothing but the cockroaches gracing the wood floor and the birds perching outside the cracked glass window could hear us.
“I think I see her,” Chaz commented from across the table, peering to his right at the front door of the tavern. It was blown open, letting in a balmy breeze and a glimpse of the night sky beyond. Between the numerous bodies of townspeople drinking and chattering further down the bar, I saw a familiar lithe figure slip among them, a burgundy hood concealing her features. Except…
“Is shelimping?” Lark hissed. I’d noticed her strange movements, too, and my blood heated, momentarily forgetting my irritation with all of them.
Clarissa approached silently and took a seat at the table, lowering her hood to reveal blonde curls, a fair, freckled face, and eyes that gazed back at me with a warning.
Beneath one of her onyx eyes, the twin to my own, was a darkened circle of sickly green and yellow. A mark that had certainly not been there this morning. I gritted my teeth and gripped the corner of the table.
“Before you go off and kill someone, little brother, let me explain,” Rissa said to me, raising her hands.
“There’s nothing toexplain, Rissa. Who hurt you?” I snarled, straining to keep my voice low.
“One of the guards saw me shifting as I snuck off palacegrounds earlier. He must’ve thought I was from Drakorum and trying to mess with the tournament. Don’t worry—you know I heal fast. The bruise is already almost gone. And besides, he looks worse than I do,” she said with a smirk.
Next to me, Horace’s body stiffened. I knew how uncomfortable he was with being part of the emperor's Royal Guard, with their elitist attitude and violent reputation hanging over him everywhere he went. But he was a good man. He’d joined the Guard many years ago, when he was too young to see how corrupt the emperor’s hold had grown. Over time, however, his eyes had been opened.
He told us how he’d witnessed countless beatings of innocent civilians, how the Royal Guard would often accept coin in exchange for letting crimes slip through the cracks. How they intentionally turned a blind eye to the seedier areas of Veridia City, such as the south sector the Drakin’s Lair resided in, because it was heavily populated with provincers. Many residents here were forced to sleep with blunt knives beneath their pillows or tucked into their waistbands when wandering the streets. They, like myself, had learned long ago to never expect safety from our dear emperor.
It hadn’t always been this way. But most of us were too young to remember a time before.
Horace had experienced this injustice firsthand when he’d been foolish enough to try and approach Emperor Gayl with his concerns. He had been threatened with removal from the Guard’s ranks should he continue questioning their methods. Though he’d never spoken of it, every once in a while I’d catch a glimpse of lacerations peeking beneath his clothing, crawling up his neck and down his shoulders.
Whip marks. All because he had the courage to speak his mind.
That was when he found us.
The Sentinels, a group of Veridians who sought peace and justice and weren’t afraid to use an occasional blade to accomplish it. Adding a member of the Royal Guard to our numbers had been astroke of luck; it gave us inside access to some of the most important people and resources in the empire, as well as eyes on any suspicious activity within the palace walls.
Horace looked like someone you wouldn’t want to cross, with his towering frame, his unruly blonde hair, and eyes that gleamed with savagery. Yet beneath the hard exterior was a man of few words who wanted to do right by his people, who would gladly give his life for those he called a friend.
While I was hard pressed to bestow much honor to the Fates after what they’d done in my life—inallour lives—bringing Horace to us was one thing I would always be thankful for.
“Told you it wasn’t wise to go sneaking around there this close to the tournament,” Horace commented gruffly. At the same time, Lark stood from her chair and rounded on Rissa, her frustration and concern both evident as she examined the injury.
“He’s right—everyone is on high alert right now,” Lark agreed.
“I’m fine, Lark, honestly.” Rissa waved her away. “More upset that he messed up my pretty face than anything else. You might actually be the better looking twin tonight,” my sister said, shooting me a wink. I put an elbow on the table and squeezed the bridge of my nose. Only she could find humor in physical assault.
“It’s not funny, Rissa. You need to be careful. If they find out what you’re doing…” I trailed off, the air suddenly heavy with tension.
When my sister decided to create the Sentinels over five years ago, we never imagined what it would grow to. A network of at least two hundred spies scattered through the capital, plus many in each province, all connected through one purpose: ending Gayl’s rule and bringing harmony to the empire, regardless of magic or background.
If Gayl caught Rissaormyself where we didn’t belong, he’d find some reason for execution simply because of who we were. Who ourparentswere. But the fact that Rissa was also actively leading a group of people in committing treason against him…
He would have her head mounted on his wall in a heartbeat.
My sister and I had gone our entire lives looking out for one another in the midst of a cruel world that hated us for what we were born into. The number of times I’d seen Rissa come home battered and bruised still made my hackles rise. One look at the mark on her eye and the wince on her face as she crossed her leg under the table made the Shifter half of my blood stir while a growl built in the back of my throat.
Without knowing what I was doing, something long slipped from beneath my cloak and flicked angrily in the air.
“Hey,” Rissa said softly, putting a hand on my knee. “I’m okay. Trust me, alright? I’ve had worse—it will heal.” When she gave me her beautiful crooked smile, my chest constricted. She looked so much like our mother.
