“You are in Aphellion, the Liberation camp. It’s warded; don’t worry, no one can find us. You are lucky to still be alive.” She offered me a glass of water alongside her gentle reproof.
I gratefully took it, my hand trembling, and gulped it down. I felt it flow all the way into my stomach, which growled aggressively in return. My neck throbbed with every swallow. I tenderly brushed my neck.
“We weren’t sure you would wake up after what happened,” Sieren continued.
“Whatdidhappen? I remember fighting off drekis, and then… nothing.” I groped for a memory, but none arose.
Sieren pulled over a leather chair, a brightly colored pillow warming its utilitarian form. She adjusted the sheets and blankets covering my exposed legs. “May I help you sit up?” she offered.
Carefully supporting my back, she edged me forward, repositioning some pillows to brace me. I leaned against them, fighting through the sharp pain emanating from below my left ear. After assessing my overall comfort, she took a seat beside the bed.
“From what I was told, when the drekis escaped through a portal, you collapsed. You fell unconscious and blood began pouring out of your eyes and ears. It was an unusual amount of blood since there wasn’t an obvious wound. Our Prime Oracle, Xuri, sensed the char within your blood. When you got here, we found a Surveille parasite lodged in your neck. How do you suppose that got there?” A note of suspicion laced her words. The hairs on my arm prickled.
Taken aback, my mind coursed with information that barely registered in my overwhelm. “I’m sorry, can you please explain the char, and the…” My mind searched for the word. “The surf…”
“Surveille,” she supplied. I distantly nodded in affirmation.
“The char is residual leftover from the use of death magic. It mixed with your blood; it became obvious because you lost so much of it. Surveilles are parasites that act as an eye for someone in another location. One was implanted beneath your skin, below your ear. It observed you and your surroundings, reporting to whomever placed it in the first place. It feeds on the magic in your blood.” The information settled heavy in my chest, stealing my breath.
“I had no idea,” I whispered. I stared into Sieren’s eyes, willing her to believe me. “I didn’t know it was there.”
She stared at me for a beat too long, determining the truth of my confession. After a moment, she resumed, “Who do you think gave it to you?”
I closed my eyes, recalling my departure from Haluma. The graze of Nolan’s fingers along my jaw—a caress, I had thought at the time. But, no. It was no tender farewell. It was a branding, a leash to keep watch over me.
He had expected my betrayal, or at the very least, harbored extreme mistrust. Belham’s words echoed:“Nolan was wise to do what he did to you.”They all knew he had inserted the parasite. Nolan didn’t have faith in me—that hurt. He was waiting for my misstep. Only dreki were allowed to leave Haluma, and I was an exception. Not because I displayed more prowess, but rather to expose my weakness and have an excuse to drain my power. I never would have become a dreki, nor could I have won my freedom. I sank further into myself, withering under my whirlwind thoughts.
“King Nolan,” I rasped. “He put it in my neck.” A tear pricked the corner of my eye. I forcefully blinked it away. I wanted to disappear.
Delah’s note came back to me. If Nolan betrayed me like this, he was not above betraying his realm by stealing their magics bit by bit, framing the rebellion in the process. I reeled aspuzzle pieces fell into place. It made perfect sense. If I was busy hunting the rebels for interfering with our Berine supplies, then I would never have discovered who was ultimately behind Glint’s distribution, and Nolan knew I would stop at nothing to find the truth. He used my pain at losing my mother against me. Why had he trained me if it was all for a lie?
A knock on the door interrupted my revelation. A young man scurried in with a tray of food. I nodded in thanks as he set it on my bed. A full spread of breakfast greeted me: crisp bacon, soft eggs, pungent cheese, and a fluff of bread slathered in jam. I inhaled the scents as my stomach again made its presence known.
Taking a bite, I absently chewed as Sieren asked the young man to fetch the oracle. He left us in silence, the door clicking shut behind him. I carefully swallowed, the movement a cascade of pain along my throat.
“I would like for you to speak with Xuri. I believe you met her the morning you went with Korin to the woods. I can also have a bath set up for you after. And—” She paused. “we will need to discuss your place here at this camp once the General arrives. If you are to have one at all.” She added this last part without malice, just a simple statement of fact.
I understood the implication of it. And I didn’t blame them for it. I had entered their world with the intention of murdering the Crimson Wolf, and potentially infiltrating the rebellion to report back their secrets and whereabouts to the Good King. I was found with a parasite that relayed my every move.
But I had made my choice. I defected. I couldn’t return to Haluma, even if I’d wanted to. Not now. Not as a traitor. My stomach lurched. Nolan would go to great lengths to find me too, if for no other reason than to prove a point and make an example of me. I would likely become a public spectacle using his preferred mode of slow torture.
Grief at what I’d just sacrificed, what I’d just lost, lapped at me. I curled into myself. King Nolan had been my biggest champion. He had showered me with gifts and gave me a chance when I was a homeless, motherless child. He gave me a purpose, and I’d lived according to his directives for years. He was the hope of Haluma. And I had foolishly put all my hope in him. My grief was a weakness that ignited my rage.
I was abandoned. Again. King Nolan never intended to come for me, to protect me. He used me. Manipulated me in my grief. And for what? What had he really wanted from me? My emotions roiled in violent conflict. My breaths serrated the air.
Shame spiraled around me for having purposely exploited Korin. It got me nowhere except to lead me to the choice of betraying myself or my realm. I had entrusted everything to the king. But he had never believed in me. I clutched at my stomach as it threatened to bring forth the breakfast I’d just eaten.
In the end, I did betray my realm. And I collapsed under the discovery that after all this time, I had betrayed myself the most. It left a vise tightening around my battered throat.
My world splintered around me as I lay frozen on a bed in rebel territory. At the mercy of my enemies.
I was a liability. And I couldn’t blame these people for not trusting me. But now I belonged nowhere. Anger clawed across my skin, heating it. I needed a plan. I was good as dead if I returned to Haluma. But could I find purpose here? What could I possibly offer the general? My mind sifted through my options, processing through my skills.
I never intended to join the rebellion—the group I fought against my entire life—but perhaps sharing an enemy could form the basis of an alliance. I desperately hoped it would.
A large part of me longed to make up for what I’d subjected Korin to. And maybe, I could use my affinity to further their cause long enough for me to get Delah out of Haluma. PerhapsI could atone for every choice that led me to this moment. Fear scraped against me. I choked back my swelling shame. My trust in my own judgment collapsed through my fingers like grains of sand in the wind.
Maybe Delah and I could finally start over, away from both Haluma and Yarit, away from this battle threatening to erupt into a full-blown war. My current weakened state gnawed at me. I could have used another few days to recover before I made my case to these people. I knew time was not on my side.
