“Go rot in the Destroyer’s lair,” Dranac barked out through his teeth. “It’s where you belong.”
“True,” Red agreed with a smile. She slammed the dagger home as she whispered, “But I’ll be seeing you there, friend.”
~~~
Red stumbled through countless hallways. She dodged around corners, waiting for too long as her unsuspecting comrades passed by, blind to the small droplets of blood that trailed across the intricate whorls that were woven into the carpets below their feet. Red tried to propel herself forwards, but her steps only grew heavier, and her pace slowed.
Red lost count of her steps before she had made it to the top of the stairs, but she knew that she should have passed her room at least once. Her vision kept tunneling in and out, the never-ending hallway trapped within the stars and shadows.
She cursed that dark kernel of magic for lying dormant in her time of need. The leash and cage that she had forgotten to mend coming back to bite her in the ass. And the side. It was no wonder that Estra Ayrith had known to urge Red to learn how to control that darkness.
Red rounded another corner, unsure if she was even on the correct floor anymore, her thoughts distracting her from the task at hand. She was ready to risk calling out for help when a door at the end of the hall opened a fraction. Red did not think; she just rushed toward the opening.
Red leaned against the wall for leverage. She grabbed onto every door jamb to propel her weight along the corridor. She reached out for the door knob, her palm sliding to fit around the brass handle when the door flung wide open.
A beautiful girl around her age stood before her, a frown lining her plump lips. Her bright amber eyes were lined with a layer of dark kohl. Her caramel skin was smooth and spotless, her jet black hair glistening in the firelight. Her curving figure filled out her revealing dress perfectly.
She stood square in the doorway, blocking Red’s way in. A group of similarly beautiful women stood behind her expectantly in the dim light in the room. All eyes were leveled on Red. The blood gushing from her side drew gasps from most of the room.
If she had any energy left, Red would have bolted back down the corridor. But the girl at the door clamped her delicate hand around Red’s wrist. With surprising strength, she pulled Red inside, clicking the door shut behind her.
Red yelped at the strain in her torso, her knees buckling before she was caught by a second set of surprisingly strong arms. The two women slowly lowered Red to the floor. They gently propped her against the foot of the bed, and they stepped back when she was leaning against the steady surface.
There was barely enough space between the broken tables and shelves that had been discarded in the empty bedroom for the women to stand. But altogether, eight were huddled in the tiny room. Their flowing skirts brushed against each other as they all shifted to peer down at Red.
The girl from the door swung her skirts around so that she was crouching next to Red. “We are here to help,” she whispered in a honey basked voice. “What do you need?”
A bead of sweat slipped down Red’s brow. The air grew heavy in her chest as she tried to determine whether the group of women was to be trusted or not.
“You don't have much time,” the girl urged, worry creeping along the planes of her beautiful face. “What do you need?”
“He-healing potion,” Red bit out with a gasp. “There’s a vial… a vial in my bag… right at… at the top…” She pushed more pressure into her side as she spoke through clenched teeth, her arms shaking from the effort.
The girl helped Red remove her bag from around her shoulders without hesitation. No sound crept through the room except Red’s haggard breathing and the clink of the vials deep within her pack. The girl continued to rummage through her things, and Red was about to curse at her when the slender hand passed the vial to Red.
Red grabbed onto the end of the dusty comforter, yanking the corner until it stretched from where it used to be tucked below the bed. She balled up the edges of the fabric, twisting it in a tight ball until she was near gasping from the tension running through her body. Red shoved the fabric as far into her mouth as she could manage without gagging. She bit down on the fabric, reaching out toward her shirt with shaking hands.
The women flinched back as Red screamed into the blanket. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she tore the fabric of her tunic, peeling it away from her side. Blood spilled from the wound, her hands no longer there to hold it in.
Red yelled out once more as the girl beside her pushed her hands against her abdomen, her perfectly manicured fingers immediately covered by the crimson river. But the girl swallowed back her own repulsion as she pushed down harder, only lifting a hand away to help fold Red’s shirt up to reveal her scar speckled stomach.
Red reached out for the vial she had dropped into her lap. She clasped her hands around the cool glass, the blood coating her hands making the bottle slip in her fingers. The rose petals, ginger, lemon zest, and blister wort jostled together as Red shook with the effort to hold the bottle still.
A hoarse, pain-filled spell emptied out of Red’s lips. “Misce sana vulnus meum,” Red spoke, the echo of her voice filled the room. Each muffled word hit the walls before it was swallowed by the vial.
One by one, the women sank to their knees, their dresses splaying out around them as they were called to join the peace of the magic around them. Some had tears gleaming in their eyes. Others held their hands together as if in prayer. But all marveled at the beauty in every word.
“Sed nihil relinquere cicatrix inducitur.”
As Red rasped out the last few words, the dim light from the oil lamp was blown out. Gasps of shock rang out as darkness ensnared the room. Even more gasps echoed throughout as the potion began to glow.
Colors burst from the small glass bottle, the curves and edges amplifying every shard of light so that the entire room was coated in the wonderful glow.
Orange sunsets made the room shine with the purest light. Purple skies sent shooting stars into every corner and above the awestruck heads. Green streaks spread the scent of peony-filled meadows under noses that eagerly took in the heavenly scent around them.
It felt like peace and love. It smelled like home and happiness. It looked like beauty incarnate.
The women breathed out a collective sigh, Red following suit as the contents slipped around the cork, opening the bottle with nothing more than a light touch of magic.
The rose petals glowed as they snaked through the air in a continuous flowing path, carrying the other ingredients along with them. The water was swept up into a fluid rainbow, the colors curving around Red in a stream of light.
The petals cast pictures of the vast lands from which they came. Sprawling vines from Britton twined with the rolling hills of Perancis. Sandy beaches from Seadell’s sister islands danced with the sparkling gems of Airaldan.
The women watched in awe as each petal told a story and created a new life. Their eyes never left the circle of magic that swayed tenderly around Red’s body.
As their energy was taken from them, the petals fell from the water in listless streams. Wilted and fragile, they blew away into dust before they even reached the floor. The stream of water continued on without them, though. The glowing stream was filled with magic, forming tighter circles until it hugged Red’s stomach in a glistening sheet.
The girl snatched her hand away from the wound, her bloody palms falling limp in her lap as she continued to watch the scene unfold around her. She took no notice of her completely ruined skirt.
Red’s eyes were closed tightly, her nose scrunched up in concentration. Her body shook with the effort to stay upright, beads of sweat continuing to slip down her temple. Her lips moved, but no sounds escaped as she released rasping breaths.
When the gap between the swirling water and her skin was no longer visible, all tension fell away from Red’s quaking limbs. The water dissolved into her skin, her wound closing, leaving only a fresh scar behind.
~~~
“Thank you,” Red breathed out, scowling as she tossed her ruined shirt onto the floor. She dug through her pack, searching for one of the extra tunics she had tucked away. “I know I don’t have to tell you to keep your mouths shut about this ordeal seeing that you were already having some sort of secret meeting before I barged in.”
The girl who had pulled Red into the room bristled, her fingers knotting themselves into her flowing skirts. She nodded at a tall redhead, the woman slipping an envelope into her corset before quietly exiting the room. The other courtesans followed suit, each woman quickly and quietly leaving every few minutes.
When there was only the one woman remaining, she finally turned to Red, fire burning behind her amber eyes. Red just nonchalantly slipped her new tunic over her head, buttoning the top as she waited for whatever the woman was going to say.
“I don’t care who you are to Arthur, but he’s been very angry with you lately,” the girl started, her words dripping with venom. “We might be nothing more than dirty prostitutes to you, but it’s unlikely that he will believe whatever you thought was going on here. Especially if I tell him that you were harassing us.”
“Why did you even bother helping me then?” Red shot back. She carefully used an upturned desk to pull herself to her feet, cringing at the lingering pain that still coursed through her side. “You clearly don’t like me, which is understandable. But you’d probably get a pretty little gift from Arthur if you had let me die. Unless you sent one of your friends to find him and turn me in while I’m healthy so he can torture me.”
The girl raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow, her finger coming to tap her chin in contemplation. She let out a light giggle before looking back down at Red, a mischievous grin lining her wine-colored lips. “As interesting as those theories sound, Robyn Thorn would be pissed if he found out that I had just left you here to die,” the girl commented dryly.
Red gaped at the courtesan, trying to determine if she was brave or stupid for mentioning the Kingdom Rogue turned rebel leader.
“He would have been even more pissed if we had traded you for jewelry,” the girl added sarcastically. “Lucky for you, I am not as materialistic as some of the other girls.”
Red slung her pack over her shoulders, her curiosity growing the more she talked to the young courtesan. “How do you know Robyn?” she asked, her curiosity distracting her from the harsh reality waiting outside the room’s closed door. She cursed herself for foolishly remaining in the manor. It would only be a matter of time before Dranac Gnorw or someone else found her.
“He’s the handsome rebel leader that Arthur is after,” the girl stated plainly. She shrugged her shoulders as if there was nothing else to it.
Red watched the girl, waiting for her to add to the very vague explanation. When she did not say anything more, Red again asked, “Okay… So how do you know him?”
“For someone who is known to be one of the smartest Kingdom Rogues, you can be pretty slow sometimes,” the girl added with a smirk.
Red blanched as she understood the unsaid confession. “You’re telling me that you’re a rebel.” Red spoke slowly, the words barely making sense to her as she spoke. “You’re a rebel… a rebel spy? And Robyn sent you here to, what, keep an eye on me?”
The girl’s slim shoulders bobbed up and down once. “I take on many different roles in the rebel ranks. But I prefer to go by Britta Lozano. Not just ‘rebel spy,’” the girl stated coolly. “But my current role revolves around getting Robyn information on the business exchanges between Arthur and Perancis’s Royal Advisor.
“Any information on what they might be doing is imperative to fighting them. Watching out for when you came back was just an extra part of the job.”
Both girls whipped around to face the door as the sound of footsteps passed by. The young courtesan, Britta Lozano, looked back at Red’s gaping face with a knowing smile before reaching for the door.
Red snatched up the girl’s arm before she could slip out into the hallway. “Don’t do anything stupid,” she whispered harshly. “You cannot fight against the Kingdom Rogues. Against Arthur Welin”
Britta wrenched her arm from Red’s grasp, her height giving her the advantage that she needed to look down on Red with a stone-cold glare. “We may be nothing more than a bunch of dirty prostitutes to you, but we’ve handled ourselves for this long. We don’t need your worry.”
Red did not back down from Britta Lozano’s glare. “I may have misjudged you,” she admitted, “but I know what it’s like to go against Arthur.” She drew up the hem of her shirt, gesturing toward the newest scar on her abdomen. “If any of you get caught, it will not be pretty.”
Red was impressed that the girl only took a moment to let her genuine anxiety show.
“We’re here because we’re trying to fight for the greater good,” Britta shot back defensively, her brave face never faltering. With a smooth sidestep around Red, she glided out of the room with the grace and poise of a tiger. A feline bite behind her words made their way to Red’s ears as she added, “Something that I doubt you’ve ever done.”
Chapter 15
Arthur Welin was a model for learned grace and noble manners. His charm and dazzling smile had won loyalty from his followers time and time again. And his cunning and false warm tone helped to keep them from leaving his side.
Watching him choke on his evening tea truly made Red smile as those perfected manners shot out of his nose with a burst of steam and curses.
Red dropped onto the finest gold couch against the far side of his office. Her smirk only grew as she watched Arthur fumble with his handkerchief, tea dribbling down his chin as he tried to clear his lungs.
“Apologies for the interruption,” Red crooned, sliding her hands behind her neck. She sank deeper into the plush pillows, making herself comfortable. “I didn’t mean to bother you, but it doesn’t look like you’re doing anything important.”
Pulling himself back into the form of a proper gentleman, Arthur Welin gathered the papers on his desk. He reached down to toss the tea splattered pile in the desk’s bottom drawer. He slammed the drawer shut before turning to Red. “What did I do to deserve the honor of being in your presence, Red Riding Hood?”
“An honor indeed,” Red quipped, her eyes falling closed as if she were already bored with their conversation.
“I assume you thought about your decision,” Arthur continued to break her silence. “What a predicament you are in.”
“It’s more of a predicament for you. I mean, you are losing your most skilled assassin.” Red opened a single eye, watching her old mentor nod his head as if he had already been told the sad news.
“I see,” he stated. “Well, in that case, I am going to have to ask you to leave my office. Important business goes on in here and deserters are the last people that should hear about Kingdom Rogue business.”
“Let me guess,” Red speculated, ignoring the low dig, nothing but sarcasm coating her words. She sat up, a glimmer shining in her eyes as if she were an excited child expecting candy. “This time I bet I’ll be escorted out with”—she lightly tapped her fingers against her chin in wonder—“a few dozen guards perhaps. Maybe with swords tipped in poison. Hopefully that will keep me down this time.”
She let out a sharp, joyless laugh. “Oh, it must be such a bother to know that your original plan to terminate me failed. But I do give you props for trying.” She sent a wink Arthur’s way as she finished her rant.
“You must know that it’s only business,” Arthur acknowledged with a shrug. “Nothing personal.”
“Oh, I completely understand. And you must know that it’s nothing personal when I rip Estra’s last letter to you into teeny-tiny little shreds. Right?”
Arthur Welin shot out of his chair, eyes boring into Red as she whipped the letter out of one of the many hidden pockets in her cloak. His nostrils flared as he took in the already opened seal. His fists clenched the edge of his desk in agitation, the o
ld wood groaning under his weight.
“Oops! Did I forget to mention that I already read your letter?” Red let out a laugh that could only be considered a cackle. She leaned further into the cushions, fanning herself with the open envelope. “Sorry.”
Arthur's entire body was taut with the effort to remain still. His natural coldness melted away; his pursed lips tightened into a clenched jaw. “Whatever is in that letter is of no concern to me,” he refuted stiffly, fire and ice dancing between each word.
“I was hoping you’d say that because then I wouldn’t have to feel bad about ripping apart the words of a dead woman,” Red smiled, tearing the letter into shreds without breaking Arthur’s glare.
But her pleasure at watching her old mentor quake with rage was short lived when he turned his back to her. That amusement continued to fade as he traced his right hand along his admirable bookshelf. He stopped when his slim fingers brushed over a simple navy cover.
When he turned, Arthur Welin held a smile on his face. “I remember when you joined the Kingdom Rogues,” he started, slowly flipping through the pages. “You were such a poised, proud young girl, even at twelve years old. Your manners and grace were commendable. And your taste for the finer things in life made you an exceptional thief.”
He continued to shift through the pages. His hand hovered over the book in anticipation as he continued his search. Red was nearly done waiting for the nostalgic tirade to end and their banter to continue when the shuffle of papers scraping together halted.
“I always did wonder where you learned the many languages of this continent. Such an education would cost a fortune,” Arthur said with a smile. He glanced up at a bored Red, a disappointed frown taking over his features when he realized his words had not hit a nerve.
He merely shrugged, returning his gaze to the opened book. He ran a finger down the page he was on, skimming over the words until he stopped near the bottom.
Red trained her own features into an unbothered stare. But she rose from the couch as her skepticism and curiosity grew as Arthur continued, “Only royal tutors could teach someone so thoroughly.”
Cloak of Darkness (The Destroyer-Blessed Saga Book 1) Page 22