The Allseer Trilogy

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The Allseer Trilogy Page 59

by Kaitlyn Rouhier


  They collapsed in a tangle of limbs and exhaustion, alone in a bubble of safety and warmth. Kirheen clung to that moment with a kind of desperate fervor, knowing it couldn’t last. Things were changing, events building up to a point of no return. There was no telling what the future would bring, what would happen to them come morning. She let those thoughts settle in the back of her mind, drowned herself in the tingling sensation still buzzing beneath her skin. She curled her arm around Tomias, his breath deepening as exhaustion claimed him.

  “I love you,” she whispered to him, feeding the flame burning brightly within her chest.

  CHAPTER 30

  Sampson woke to a cool hand touching his face, a pair of hazel eyes looking down on him with concern. His head throbbed, a dozen wounds prying his attention away. Lillana withdrew, came back a breath later holding a cup. “You need to take this,” she said. Her hand slid under his head, tipped him up enough to dump the cup of foul tasting relief into his mouth.

  He collapsed back onto the pillow, feeling warmth spread throughout his body. Lillana was a mess. Her dress was torn and disheveled, her raven hair knotted and frayed. Dark bruises had appeared on her pale skin, marking each spot her mother had struck. He reached out his hand and grabbed hers. “Lillana, are you-?”

  “I’ll be fine, Sampson. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me right now. You need rest. You’re hurt.”

  “I’m worried. What just happened…I’m…I’m so sorry. I should have known, should have been prepared.”

  “You couldn’t have known,” she whispered, her hand trembling in his. “It was my fault.”

  “Don’t blame yourself for this. Don’t.”

  There was the sound of a door opening and Lillana looked back over her shoulder. “Is he awake?” Mirin asked gruffly.

  “Yes,” Lillana said and she gave his hand a squeeze before stepping away. Mirin was unmasked, her pale hair falling to her shoulders. She stood over him, arms crossed over her chest as she regarded him with stormy eyes. The door slammed shut, the princess retreating from their conversation.

  “What a mess,” Sampson growled.

  “Unexpected, to say the least. You’re lucky to be alive, old friend. They damn near took your leg off.”

  “I can feel it enough to know that,” he grimaced, wincing as he shifted. “What’s going on?”

  Mirin shrugged. “About what I suspected would happen. You’re where the queen expects; in a prison. It should be enough to keep her quiet for now. Under threat of immediate execution, we’ve managed to gag both my fellow Seekers and the soldiers from talking. They aren’t allowed to so much as whisper about what happened. If word gets out that Lillana has powers, we’ll have more than the wrath of the queen to face. It’s a small mercy she didn’t realize how deep your treachery goes.”

  “I knew Agna was going mad, but I didn’t expect that. I don’t think we can wait much longer. She’s staggering. It’s time we made the final push.”

  “For once we agree. I’d take a knife to her throat if I didn’t think it would spark a civil war. As long as we can keep things quiet about Lillana and get power to shift to her willingly, we may be able to pull this off without burning the whole city down with us.”

  “If only. This place is dangling by a string. After her display today, Agna may have given us a slight advantage. Her soldiers are probably questioning her every action, her every word. Have you heard anything about the king?”

  Mirin grunted. “In all honesty, I think he’s dead. One less problem to worry about.”

  The king had fallen ill weeks before. Agna hadn’t allowed anyone to see or approach him. She claimed Zekar was healing him, mending him and changing him into something greater. Only the best for his faithful servants. It had been too long without contact and they’d begun to suspect something sinister. After what Sampson had seen, he held little doubt that the the king was dead, murdered by his own crazed wife. “So, just Agna and her small legion of soldiers.”

  “And perhaps a Seeker or two. Not all of my men are worth trusting. They may side with the queen in the end, even knowing they are expendable.”

  His thoughts drifted to Lillana. She’d been so scared, so frightened of what had burst out of her. She’d killed people with her powers in a desperate attempt to save them. You didn’t walk away from that without scars. “How is the princess?”

  “Coping,” Mirin sighed. “I’m keeping a close eye on her. Her power is restrained for now. I’ve been teaching her the basics, enough so she doesn’t feel like she’s completely out of control. She’s taking it remarkably well considering what just happened.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Thank you, Mirin. We’d both be dead now if you hadn’t stepped in.”

  “What a waste of effort to watch this all crumble now,” she said, a dark chuckle filling the air. “I’ll call the meeting. Get some rest. We’ve work to do.”

  CHAPTER 31

  Kirheen stood in front of a table littered with maps and every scrap of information the rebels had. Something was happening, the hidden basement of the safe house a flurry of activity. Unfamiliar faces ran back and forth, discussed details in whispers just low enough that she couldn’t hear.

  Someone bumped her shoulder and she turned, finding Daris standing next to her. “A meeting has been called,” he explained, nodding to the new faces buzzing around like bees. “A very important one at that. We have a contact from within the castle coming to meet us today which is a good sign something big is about to happen. We’ll probably be making a move soon, going after the royal family. Took us long enough if you ask me. Where’s Tomias?”

  She felt her heart give an elated jump and suppressed the smile that fought to control her features. “I told him to rest. I can fill him in later. He’s been through enough.”

  Daris grinned. “Yeah, you both basically grabbed Zekar by his skeletal face and kissed him. Lucky for you he didn’t rip out your soul in the process.”

  “Lucky for me I have friends that saved us before that could happen.”

  “It was a close one. I’m glad we got there in time. We owed you after letting you get caught.”

  Kirheen snorted. “Glad you are finally admitting you tucked tail and ran.”

  Daris shook his head, pointing a finger at a tall man leaning against the far wall, his eyes surveying the room. His skin was a rich umber, his dark hair bound in hundreds of tiny braids falling past his shoulders. Even from afar, she could see his eyes were a striking silver. He caught sight of Daris pointing his way and smirked. “That man right there is Mason, leader of this little rebellion. Everything we’ve done and worked towards has been orchestrated by him. He’ll be right there with us when the royal family falls.”

  “And how exactly does he plan to make that happen?”

  Daris shrugged. “We’ll find out when our contact gets here, I suppose.”

  “Where did Tegan and Irena run off to?”

  “Patrol. Things have been unusually quiet today, so they are out scouting, making sure we’re not being ambushed.”

  “Smart,” she said. She opened her mouth to ask another question but promptly stopped. Mason was striding towards the center of the room, drawing the eyes and ears of every person in the room. He stopped in front of the table, waving his hands around to draw everyone closer. The other rebels pressed in close, a rag tag group of people both young and old. Kirheen had been surprised to learn quite a few of them were without powers, that they’d throw themselves in the fire over something that didn’t directly affect them. That they cared at all and would go to such lengths made her heart swell with pride. If those without powers could recognize the injustice, perhaps there was hope after all.

  Mason looked around the table, his eyes coming to rest on Kirheen. It was like looking into pools of liquefied silver, whirls of light and dark fighting for dominance. “Don’t be alarmed by the new face here everyone. This is another Sanctuary brat,” he smiled. “Treat her as one of us and protect h
er like one of us. No excuses.” There was a jumbled mess of greetings and it made Kirheen want to shrink behind Daris. Their attention was drawn away from her soon enough as Mason continued. “We’ve got a very important contact meeting us today. I can’t say what news he brings, but I want you all to prepare yourself for anything that may come. There have been whispers on the wind, disturbing rumors and we’ll see what holds true. Just know that our time is coming and soon. Be ready.”

  As if on cue, there came a thumping sound from above and then the door to the basement was opened, revealing Irena and Tegan. They were followed by two others; a wounded Zekarian priest that limped, leaning heavily on a beautiful young woman with black hair. Her arm was wrapped around the priest and she helped him along, watching the others in the room with suspicion.

  Kirheen realized she knew the priest. She’d asked him for directions when they’d first arrived in Val’shar. He’d looked at her so strangely, as if she were a ghost, some haunting memory from his past. Mason pulled out a chair for the priest and he let himself sink into it, his brow covered in sweat. He grimaced as he stretched out his wounded leg. The woman stayed at his side, her hazel eyes looking at everything but the people in the room. Her expression was off, guilty almost, as if she alone were responsible for all the misery in the world.

  The rebels had tensed, shuffling nervously as Mason helped the priest settle. A Zekarian priest was the last thing these people wanted to interact with. A man that worshipped the very god that condemned them all to death wasn’t a man worth trusting.

  The priest scanned the room, his intensely blue eyes falling on Kirheen. He frowned, seemingly disappointed to find her standing amongst the rebels. He had warned her to leave the city, to flee, not to get mixed up in a rebellion.

  Mason and the priest exchanged a few brief words and then Mason rose, stepping up to the table. “Listen up,” he called. “I’d like to introduce you all to my contact from within the castle. This is Sampson. It is likely this is the first you’ve ever heard of him, and for good reason. Know that this man has helped us immensely in crippling the royal family. Please give him your full attention. This meeting matters. What happens here decides the course of our people. Don’t forget that.”

  He stepped back out of the way, allowing the occupants of the room a clear view of Sampson. He had regained his composure, his eyes dulled by pain, but burning with determination. He spoke a word to the young woman next to him and she helped him to his feet, holding his arm tightly as she led him towards the table.

  “You all look surprised to see a Zekarian priest here today,” Sampson began. There was a murmuring among the rebels that quieted as he began to speak. “In truth, I hoped I’d never see this day, that the situation would never become so dire that we’d be forced to action. The truth of the matter is, things are dire and we need your help now more than ever. The discord in this city has reached a point beyond our control and it is time we reined in the chaos. Standing beside me today is your princess, Lillana.”

  There was a hiss like a pit full of adders, the rebels bristling with anger and confusion and blatant hatred as they stared at the dark haired girl. She was staring at the floor, unable to look at them, her eyes swimming with tears. Mason raised a hand, glared at his wards. They fell silent but the tension never left the room. Even Kirheen felt shocked, a member of the royal family standing so close she could have reached out and touched her.

  Sampson coughed, wiping at his forehead with his sleeve. “Listen, I know this is hard for you all. Lillana is, in fact, the daughter of the very queen that has declared you all heathens, that has seen your families torn apart, your homes burned, your lives destroyed. I don’t expect you to trust her. I don’t expect you to like her. There has been much change over these past few weeks and I believe the princess can be of great help in facilitating those to come, to help bridge the gap when her family falls.”

  There was a shaking of heads, a slowly building whisper of dissent. Lillana was watching them, her hazel eyes wide and terrified. She stood up on the tips of her toes, whispered something in Sampson’s ear. He looked to her, his eyes puzzled, but he allowed her to help him back into his seat and she approached the table, wringing her hands together to relieve the nervousness she was so obviously feeling. Every eye was on her, a frown on every face showing her just how much the rebels disapproved of her being there.

  “I-I… I used to hate your kind,” she said softly. “I did. I used to find the idea of your powers repulsive. My family drilled that into my head from the day of my birth. I was to hate your kind and under the will of Zekar, we were chosen to purge these lands of your taint. I truly believed it. All these years I believed you were monsters.” Lillana took a deep breath, forcing away a rising swell of emotions before continuing. “S-Sampson, he… I didn’t understand what you were. I didn’t understand that you were people. You have families and friends and lovers, and my family has spent years taking those things away from you in the most brutal and horrific ways possible. There are never going to be enough words to let you know how incredibly sorry I am. I will carry this regret with me for the rest of my life and your blood will forever stain my hands.

  “It is a blood I now share. Several days ago, my mother tried to murder Sampson. She ordered him executed before me while she held a knife to my throat and it triggered something in me, changed something. Fate has given me the greatest punishment and gift for my folly, to see through your eyes and share this pain and struggle with you all.”

  There was a collective gasp throughout the room. Lillana, princess of the royal family, had powers. It was unfathomable. Fate had dealt her a great and ironic blow when it brought that gift to life.

  Lillana was shaking, her knuckles white from squeezing her hands together. “I know how this sounds. It still… it doesn’t seem real to me at all. I’m still processing this change, learning where I fit into all of this. I want to help. For years I was too young, too naïve, too stupid to recognize what was happening around me. I was brainwashed into my way of thinking and when that shattered… it is impossible to comprehend the atrocities, the horror that I have been witness to. There is nothing I can ever do to wash this stain off my very soul but please, please, please let me help you in this. Let me help you bring an end to my family and save Taverin before it is too late. My mother is insane, her mind fraying more and more each and every day. Her army is wavering, their trust and loyalty in her breaking with each crazed task she sets them on. This is the perfect time to strike. We must strike. I don’t expect you to trust me, to trust us, but let me help work towards a better future for all of us. Please.”

  The room had gone quiet enough to hear the drop of a pin. The princess stood with bated breath, her hazel eyes lit with some inner fire, her lips set in a tight line. She was as earnest as you could get, her emotions too wild and unwieldy to be anything but the truth. Kirheen let out a gentle wisp of power towards the princess, felt her power answer in kind. It was there, humming beneath the surface.

  This is what they’d all been waiting for, an opportunity to see the royal family collapse. What better way than to have it do so from within. This was their only chance to see it through, to put an end to the madness. It was a crucial moment and it would only take a single negative word to throw the whole thing into the trash. Kirheen stepped closer to the table and met the eyes of the princess. “It is never too late to make this right,” Kirheen said. And it was words she truly believed. She carried the guilt of her days in Sanctuary with her like a heavy cloak. It would follow her always, but she couldn’t regret it. She’d set them free and now would work to make a better world for them all, a place where they could be safe. It was what the princess sought to do, and how could anyone fault her for that? “I stand with her.”

  The princess gave her an appreciative nod and Kirheen eyed the rest of the rebels squirming with unease. This was a decision that would change everything. Daris bumped her elbow as he stepped forward and he gave the pri
ncess a wolfish grin. “And I stand with her,” he said, nodding his head towards Kirheen. “She tends to be right about this sort of stuff.”

  Mason was watching from the sidelines, his lips pulled into an amused smirk. Irena and Tegan stepped forward as well, their hands bound. “Leave it to Kirheen to get the ball rolling,” Tegan grinned from across the table. “We stand with the princess.”

  There was too much support to back out now. The others, in varying degrees of enthusiasm, stepped closer to the table and threw their support behind the princess. She was nearly in tears as she watched them all and she thanked them profusely for giving her the chance to make things right.

  Decision made, Mason stepped to the head of the table. “With these allies, we know the layout of the castle, the tunnels, every entrance and exit. We have numbers. We have-”

  The door to the basement creaked and all eyes locked onto the person stepping into the room. Daggers were drawn, powers readied. A figure wearing a black cloak strode into the room, their face hidden behind a mask - the mask of a Seeker. A curtain of ashen hair fell to her shoulders and Kirheen stiffened, glaring at the approaching threat. She’d faced off against her back at the prison, when she’d tried to rescue Tomias. If she was at their hideout, it could only mean they’d been discovered, their secrets revealed to one of the biggest threats of all.

  But the woman strode forward, undeterred and alone, halting just out of harm’s way. She gave a slight bow to the group and said, “And you have my Seekers.”

  “W-what?” Mason stammered, his silver eyes narrowed. He’d stepped around the table, putting himself between the Seeker and the rebels. A spectral dagger had appeared in the air next to his head, quivering as it waited to strike. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  There was a sputtering cough from the front of the room, a suppressed laugh. Sampson was rising to his feet and he turned to face the Seeker. “She’s with me,” he said and every jaw in the room dropped.

 

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