“You’ll have your freedom and time to win the people. You forget that, unlike you, Pantone is an elected official. Corrupt or not, at some point he has to answer to the council and people alike. And it’s only a matter of time before you age into your rightful place. No one wants a war, but war is coming. The people don’t love him, but they do fear him.”
“Rogan doesn’t fear him.”
“He should. He will rue the day he decided not to cooperate. And so will you.”
“Cooperate?” She twirled to face him. “What do you mean?”
Markus sighed.
“He was arrested a week ago.”
“Arrested? A week ago?” Elyra sat up straight. Markus nodded. “On what charge?”
Markus gave her a knowing look.
“C’mon El. After everything that’s happened, did you really think Pantone would let him stay on the streets? Pantone knows he’s tied up in this so-called ‘cause.”
“How could you not tell me?”
“I haven’t had a chance—”
“Did you do this?”
“I have done nothing. You want someone to blame? Blame him for conspiring against the crown. For compromising your integrity and forcing you to betray your own father and country.”
Elyra balled her fist but resisted the urge to punch him.
“It’s a witch hunt.”
“Tell yourself that all you want, but it’s the law. You don’t get to go around plotting against the government without consequences.”
“Then he needs a good lawyer to get him out of there.”
Markus shook his head.
“Elyra, face reality. Even if he is freed from custody, he cannot stay in the city. If he stays, he will eventually be tried and executed for his crimes. There is no way he can fight Pantone on this. Pantone will never let him go free.”
“My father will pardon him.” Markus gave her a rueful look.
“El, your father may not wake up. Even if he does, by then it might be too late for Elwood.”
“He will never run.”
“I know he won’t. Not when he has you to fight for.”
“And he always will.” She glared at Markus.
“That’s entirely up to you.” Markus raised his brow. “Even if he somehow slips past the judge’s gavel, Demos will ensure he disappears into the ocean.”
“What are you trying to say? Stop being so cryptic. I’m sick to death of cryptic warnings.”
Markus sighed and touched her hand.
“You have to ask yourself what you care about more: Being with him or keeping him alive. If you can let him go, let him run, I will save him.”
“But he will never. He wouldn’t leave me.”
“He will if he believes you are lost to him. It’s the only way to make him go. To save his life.”
“I can’t do that.” Hot tears nipped at the back of her eyes.
“If he stays, he will die. I am telling you the truth.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. I will never convince him of it. No matter how much I plead.”
“A broken heart is a great motivator.”
“You cannot ask me to do that. You can’t ask me to hurt someone I love.” She remembered the pain in his eyes when she had let him go before. And the sensation she felt of her own insides being shredded to pieces. She couldn’t bear the thought of doing it again.
“You have to think about more than yourself here. If you love him as you say you do, think of his family. Do you want to see them cut down as Pantone’s minions follow every lead to find him?” She turned from him and shook her head gently. “I didn’t think so. And they don’t have to. I can protect them. I will make sure Pantone knows they have nothing to do with it. I can stop this. Pantone wants me on his side—needs me on his side. He will listen to me.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“He needs Batem. He can’t risk Hildon favoring the opposition in the north, nor can he finish off Suell without funding. One word from me, Hildon will pull all support and leave Arelanda to flounder. But if Hildon gets what he wants, his support and bankroll are ours.”
“And Hildon wants…”
Markus lowered his eyes humbly.
“The same thing I want,” he said, serious but compassionate. She turned back to face him. “A Fallon son on the throne.”
“Never,” she muttered quietly with little resolve.
“Elyra, you’re a smart woman but you’re acting like a naïve, privileged little girl. Wake up—open your eyes and see what’s happened around you. You can cling to your ideals and dreams of happily ever after but they can’t save you now. And neither can your precious rebel.”
She raised her hand to slap him but he caught her fist in the air and pulled it to him. “But I can.” She glared at him hard and clenched her teeth to keep the tears at bay. “Is a future with me so terrible that you’d rather lose everything?”
She chewed on her lip until it hurt. Was it?
“Is your lust for me so great that you’ll resort to coercion to have me?” she asked. Markus smirked but didn’t reply. “If I do this, I have your word that this ends. Rogan goes free, his family is safe and my position is restored?”
He squeezed her hand affectionately and kissed it.
“I swear it.”
Does he really love me or is this just a political move to him?
“Will you do this?” What choice did she have?
After a few long moments, she nodded slowly, finally beginning to accept the fate that had been handed to her.
“If I have your absolute promise that he will be safe…then yes.”
His face lit up with a swell of excitement.
“You have my promise.” He kissed her knuckles.
“Markus?”
“Yes?”
“Honestly. Why would you want someone who doesn’t love you back? Is it really all about the power and title?”
Markus smiled and stared at her reflectively.
“No, it’s not. I think one day you will change your mind about me. I just want to be by your side when it happens. I want you to know then that I never doubted you.”
CHAPTER 42
Rogan was so disoriented that he could never have guessed whether it was day or night. He surmised he had been locked in the room for a week, although in his daze, it could have easily been a month. A pimply guard had brought him bowls of rice and porridge with sour bread at various intervals, along with some jugs of water. He forced it all down to keep up his strength, although it all felt like ash in his belly and the water tasted like it came straight from the drain. His ribs still ached, but the pain had subsided to a dull throb. He was trying to massage away a headache from his temples when he heard the door open. He expected it to be the pimply guard with another bowl of lumpy gray mush, but he was shocked to find Markus, accompanied by two older, more sinister looking guards. Rogan shot to his feet and took a defensive stance. He guessed his time was finally up.
“Relax, Elwood,” Markus said. “I’m not here for blood.”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s lucky for you that you have powerful friends. Come with me.” The guards approached Rogan and pointed their rifles at his head. “I suggest you don’t test my patience.”
Rogan gingerly followed them out of the cell.
“What’s going on?”
“Keep your mouth shut,” Markus hissed.
With two rifles buried in his back, he followed in silence as they walked down a long corridor, then up a long staircase. His legs and abdomen burned as they climbed, each step sending stabs of pain through his beaten, fatigued body. They finally reached a room at the top of four flights of stairs.
“Go in,” Markus commanded.
Rogan gingerly opened the door and stepped into the dark room, which looked like something of a study. One of the guards flicked on the lights and he saw her on the other side of the room, staring longingly out the window.
&nb
sp; “El!” He blurted out.
She turned toward him but didn’t run to him as he expected—only looked at him with determined eyes.
“Leave us,” she commanded his escorts sullenly.
“You have fifteen minutes. Then he has to go,” Markus said and closed the door.
Once they were alone, Rogan rushed to her, throwing his arms around her. He cupped her face and pressed his mouth to hers. She didn’t reciprocate. He pulled away and looked down at her, searching her face for answers. Her eyes were fixed on the floor. Her cheeks were flushed and black smudges smeared her bloodshot eyes where her makeup had run. She was trembling.
“Are you okay? What’s going on? Look at me.” She didn’t look at him.
“It’s over, Rogan,” she sniffed.
“What are you talking about? What’s going on? What’s over?”
“This. Us. Things have changed.”
“What’s changed?”
“The stakes are too high now.”
He wiped away a black smudge from her cheek. Her muscles tensed and composure forced its way across her face.
“We’ve always known this wouldn’t be easy. This is just a setback. We will figure this mess out.”
“Rogan, it’s not just hard. It’s impossible. I can’t protect you.”
“Protect me from what? From Pantone and his goons? From Markus Fallon?”
“From yourself! The fact stands that you are wanted as a traitor and there is nothing I can do about it. And now I am accused of treason as well.”
“What?” He inhaled sharply. “That’s insane. On what grounds?”
“For being with you,” she looked down at the floor again.
“We will fight them.”
Elyra shook her head.
“No, Rogan. We can’t. I can’t.”
“What are you saying?” Panic rose in his throat. Elyra sighed.
“That this can’t go on. I have a duty to fulfill. I was fooling myself to think that I could ever be more than I am. Fooling myself into thinking I could love you.” Her eyes were red and pained, but she remained calm.
“No, that’s not you talking. That’s them forcing your hand.”
She shook her head.
“No, Rogan. This is me. I have to walk away and you should too.”
“Walk away? I’m under arrest.”
“Markus is going to get you out of here, but you can’t stay in the city. You have to leave.”
“What? No, I won’t leave. I love you.”
“Please don’t say that,” she raised her hand. “You deserve to be with someone who can give you what you need. And I…I can’t love you back. I don’t feel that way about you anymore. There is no life for you here.”
Rogan cupped her chin and forced her to look him in the eye.
“You don’t mean that and you know it.”
She stared back at him firm and focused.
“Yes I do. There is nothing left for us. You have to leave the city and save yourself. I will protect your family, but I can’t go on like this. I have to do what’s right by my family. By my country.”
Shards of burning pain splintered his heart and he struggled to find enough breath to speak.
“And what does that duty entail?” Elyra lowered her eyes and didn’t answer. “Does it involve Markus?”
She raised her eyes to his and nodded slowly but firmly.
“Yes, it does. Markus is the future I need, not you. I’m sorry. This should have never happened between us. I should never have made you believe otherwise.” A thin stream trickled down her cheek.
“So you’ve made your choice, then?” His pride began to sooth the pain and he pulled away from her. She slowly nodded again.
“This is the only choice I have. And you need to accept it. Rogan, please. You have to leave the city. If you stay here, they will kill you. They will kill your family. This is the only way.”
Before he could respond, the door opened and a guard stepped in.
“It’s time,” the guard growled.
Elyra’s eyes welled with tears as she looked at him. He knew this wasn’t her talking. She didn’t mean this. Without a word, Rogan grabbed her face and pulled her into him, crushing her lips with his own. His hands gripped her fiery curls and he pulled her shuddering body so close he could feel her racing heart. She relented, returning his kiss with a force that stroked his very core. He pulled away and took in her image one last time before the guards seized him by the arm.
“This isn’t over,” he whispered to her as they dragged him from the room. “I will be back for you.”
CHAPTER 43
Rogan was beginning to think that Markus had indeed lied to them both, which wouldn’t have surprised him. The hours ticked by until it was certainly the dead of night and he hadn’t seen so much as fly on the wall to let him know life still flourished outside. Then he heard footsteps, cautious and careful, not the careless boots of guards. A key entered the lock and the door slowly opened. Markus stepped into the room. He was dressed in an inconspicuous long Royal Guard coat with a brown hood over his head so that his face was well hidden. At first glance, he looked like any other guard on patrol. Markus lowered the hood and stared hard at Rogan.
“Are you ready?”
Rogan narrowed his eyes. He didn’t trust Markus Fallon any more than he did a hungry wolf in winter. He stood silently.
“I realize this is probably more luxury than you’re used to, but I promised to keep you alive so let’s go,” Markus quipped. Rogan nodded and stood to follow him out. “Keep your mouth shut and follow me.” Markus swiftly placed shackles over Rogan’s wrists. He didn’t object, only stared suspiciously.
Markus shoved him forward in the direction of a long corridor. They walked in silence for what seemed like hours, the smell of heavy cleaning fluids masking rotten air. The nooks and crannies of the corridor were mostly pitch black with only eerie candlelight dancing in the air. Rogan had the wrenching feeling that most who came down this way never returned to the living world.
“Where are we going?” Rogan asked in a hoarse whisper.
Markus only shoved him forward, and hissed a shhh. Finally, the shadow of a door came into the view by the light of Markus’ lantern.
“Go out,” Markus whispered.
Rogan didn’t hesitate and pushed the door open. A wave of chilling fresh air rushed passed him, invigorating him with the reality of freedom. Markus followed him outside and made sure the door was securely locked.
“Come this way.”
He led Rogan around the corner of the building into a narrow alley. Despite the energizing feeling of the cool air on his skin, the air smelled of rotting fish and urine and the ground was caked with slimy gunk that sucked on his boots. A gnawing sensation in his gut was half afraid Markus was taking him out to shoot him and toss his body in the sewer. But then, a beacon of hope emerged from the darkness. An old cargo truck was parked in the alley. Its lights were off but he could see two figures standing beside it. Relief and astonishment swept over him when he saw the tall, elegant form of Brita Falcon standing next to a gruff-looking guard with a thick brown beard.
“Brita,” Rogan said, hurrying toward her. She smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s good to see you alive,” she said. Heartbreak danced in her eyes. “I am so sorry about Ben.”
Rogan fought back a well of rage and pain. He nodded.
“Thank you. He died a hero. I…I know you cared about him too.” Brita nodded. “What’s going on?” Rogan looked around nervously.
“We’re getting you far away from this place,” Brita said.
“Did someone send you? Cable?” She shook her head.
“No, Cable doesn’t know about this. I couldn’t tell him what we were doing. The fewer that know the better.”
“You will tell him though, won’t you?” he asked. Brita nodded. “Thank you for coming.” He eyed the guard suspiciously.
“This is Griff,�
� Brita said. “He’s on our side.”
Rogan nodded a hesitant hello to the guard. He turned back to Markus, unsure of what was supposed to happen next. Was he supposed to thank him—the man who was taking away his reason for living and giving him his life back at the same time?
“Brita, you know what to do now,” Markus said softly. Brita nodded.
“What happens now?” Rogan asked.
Markus pulled down the hood of his jacket and looked him hard in the eyes.
“What happens now is you will leave the city. And if you value your life, stay gone. Pantone has a long memory. He will not forget you. He will probably hunt you,” Markus warned.
“And my family?”
“Brita will see them moved to a safe house until the initial anger at your escape has past. I will make sure they have immunity for your crimes. But believe me, they will be tailed and watched. Don’t even think about contacting them. Pantone will know.”
“Why are you doing this, Fallon?”
“Because I love her.”
Rogan tried to ignore the punch to his gut.
“We should go now,” Brita urged. She pulled Rogan’s arm gently. “Thank you, Markus, for this.”
Markus nodded.
“Make sure he leaves the city alive. Don’t make a liar out of me.”
“I will. Come Rogan.”
They turned from Markus and walked toward the truck. When they reached the bed, Rogan paused and turned back to Markus.
“Fallon,” Rogan said. Markus turned and faced him. “Take care of her.”
Markus didn’t respond, but nodded. Rogan climbed into the back of the old truck with Brita. Griff hopped behind the wheel and drove him into the darkness—toward his freedom.
CHAPTER 44
Rogan sat at a metal table inside Jova’s warehouse, thinking back on how they ended up here. Would he be the one to bring down a kingdom? Or be the one to save it from itself? The people would never love Pantone; he knew that, but they would follow him because it was their nature to be obedient. But if he ascended as an absolute power, civil war was inevitable. The cause would never stand for it and the rebels wouldn’t stay in the shadows. But maybe, just maybe, she could change things. She was the essence of human kindness, of hope. She could inspire change, earn their trust back—set them on a new course.
Rebel Song Page 29