Ashes of Revival (The Abdicate Series Book 1)

by Alex Shobe

  “Merethe,” I growl, closing the distance between us.

  She stops and turns. Her green eyes gleam in the sliver of the moon’s light. My dagger is already drawn, cradled in my now capable hand. I put the point to her neck and force her against a brick wall.

  Her eyes remain calm but her pulse throbs against my blade.

  “Why did you betray me?”

  She keeps her gaze locked on me until Colton, Aiden, and Kaleo show up behind us. Rhyn and Skylar wait at the alley’s entrance. She lets her eyes linger on Colton for a moment before speaking.

  “I need your help.”

  I press the dagger against her dancing vein. My skin is on fire, hot with rage. I’m not in the mood for her games.

  “Why did you betray me?” I hiss each word with conviction.

  “Aerok has my aunt. He’s holding her hostage in exchange for my obedience.” She swallows. “He said that if I told him where you were, he’d release her, but he lied.”

  Kaleo walks closer. His face is pulled tight into a snarl. “Don’t trust her. Might as well just kill her and be done with it.” He waves a dismissive hand in Merethe’s direction.

  I press the blade harder. My eyes light up as I draw blood.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” she says in a whisper. “I can tell you everything about what Aerok is doing. Everything that I know.”

  There’s desperation in her eyes—as there should be. She cost us our advantage. Who knows how many of my men lost their lives due to her betrayal?

  “You’re only saying this because Aerok betrayed you, after you betrayed us.” I twist my wrist, the point of the blade burrowing deeper under her skin. For the moment, I’ve forgotten that we share a bloodline.

  She glances to Colton once more, no doubt looking for an ally. She won’t find one in him. His fists are clenched. He probably wants to kill her himself—and I’d let him. She looks back to me.

  “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?” She smiles weakly. “Why do you think I let you catch me? Plus, I heard your plans, remember? I can tell you how to use them against Aerok’s security protocols.”

  I ease the pressure on her neck. The thought crosses my mind on how knowing Aerok’s plans would be beneficial to us. Still, I’m not entirely convinced.

  “How do we know you’re not just going to deliver us on a silver platter to him?” Colton asks. “Again.”

  “As I told you in the tunnel, I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect my family.”

  I exchange a glance with Colton. The irony in her statement makes me consider her words. After a moment longer, I withdraw the dagger from her throat. Kaleo grumbles his objection.

  Merethe reaches up to touch her neck. When she removes her fingers, they’re wet with blood. I glare at her, unapologetic for the wound. She shrinks back then clears her throat.

  “Right then,” she says. “My manor’s not too far from here. You can rest there… unless you’d prefer to sleep in the woods tonight?”

  “I thought you said you were from Heraeda?” A wave of anger rises in my chest.

  Merethe eases away from me, out of my arm’s reach, away from my dagger. She steps gingerly past the brooding eyes of Kaleo and the death stare of Colton and Aiden. “I lied.”

  Leona

  The empty rooms of the home say much about Merethe’s upbringing. Hollow. Non-existent. The walls are bare. Outlines of the stripped decorations stain the plaster walls. I step pointedly around the house, the heel of my shoe striking against the hardwood planks. My head throbs as I put the quietness of the night into disarray.

  Everyone’s asleep, even Colton. Rhyn mixed him a tonic full of herbs, and for the first time in a long while, it seems, Colton’s found much needed rest. I hover over him as he sleeps on the sofa and watch his chest rise and fall. I feel some sort of way about him. He challenges me and says what’s on his mind without regard for my position. I should be offended he doesn’t see me first and foremost as a queen. Though, the fact that he sees me for me is probably the reason I’m drawn toward him.

  Moonlight sneaks past the window shutters in slices, bringing a paleness to his otherwise dark hair. I smile and extend a hand to touch his face. He stirs, and I stop just before making contact. Soft murmurs come from his mouth, but his eyes are still closed. I bend down and point my ear toward him, hoping to catch his words. What once sounded like mumbled ramblings becomes clear when I close my eyes and listen—really listen.

  He’s speaking Daolic. And not just another proverb. He’s speaking it conversationally. His voice is too low and choppy, and I only catch a few strings of words.

  …don’t leave me…

  …I’m scared, Mama. Why do I have to go…?

  My brows pull together in confusion as I try to make sense of what he’s saying. What’s more troubling is that he speaks another language with proper pronunciation. It took me years to be able to speak Daolic fluently. The exhausting task of being multi-lingual is an attribute carried by all monarchs. I spent countless hours with tutors until Father was pleased with my foreign speech.

  The East Sea separates Daol from Erenen. I learned Daolic by necessity. What’s Colton’s reason?

  I wait a moment longer to hear more of his words, more of his hidden truths. He’s grown quiet, slipping away from the surface of his consciousness and disappearing within his sleep. I nod to only myself, acknowledging his ability to find peace during his slumber.

  Around the sitting room, bodies drape the furniture as my men rest their minds. Merethe sleeps as well. Her head is tucked against her arm as she sits at the dining table. She hasn’t left my sight since we’ve been here. Who knows if she’ll send word to Aerok of my whereabouts? I won’t make the error of underestimating her again.

  The corridor leading to the rest of the house is dimly lit with two ornate wall sconces. I’m mindful of my footsteps now, as to not wake the others. My fingers trail along the wooden trim of the wall. A portion of the molding has been replaced with trim that is similar but not an exact match.

  My feet carry me to the first bedroom before the end of the corridor. The door is ajar. I put my palm up to it and push, the hinges groaning in response. I glance down the hallway and pause. No sounds. No movements. No one’s awake. I’m the only conscious soul in the house of a traitor.

  I step into the bedroom, not the least bit guilty about entering a place that is not my own. A four-poster bed takes up majority of the floorspace. A pair of chests with the same carved pattern as the bed flank a broad window. Like the rest of the house, the bedroom consists of the bare minimum. I move further inside. The glint of metal behind the door catches my attention. Several bows, some with metallic adornment, lean against the wall.

  This must be Merethe’s bedroom.

  For whatever reason, this sharpens my attention. I narrow my eyes and search for anything that can give me insight into her life. If there’s a vulnerability of hers I can expose, this is where I’ll find it. The pale blue light of the moon guides my eyes to exactly what I didn’t know I was looking for.

  I walk toward a small wooden box that sits on the table. Blank parchments and quills are sprawled around it. I run my fingers over the surface of the box, my tips catching on every imperfection in the wood. A small clasp holds the lid shut. As I open it, letters brim the top from being pushed down into submission. I take out a handful and skim over their words. One message, dated sixteen years ago, is tattered at the edges, the ink faded from time. I turn so the moonlight catches the parchment.

  Dearest sister,

  I do hope you are doing well. I’m sorry to hear about the passing of your husband. I know he was a terrible man, so take solace in acquiring his wealth. You deserve it.

  My pregnancy is nearly over. Kol is permitting me to return home so that I may give birth. Home is wherever you are, sister, so I’ll be there within the next couple of weeks. It pains me that I won’t be able to return to the castle with my child, but I know she’ll be in safe hands
with you.

  Forever bound,

  Gracen

  A surge of jealous rattles my spine. I scan through a few more messages in my hands. Gracen not only called my father by his first name, but also mentioned him in letters that could be discovered by anyone. Anyone like me. I release my hold on them and the parchments tumble to the tabletop into a greater mess. I grab for another handful from the box. These letters are dated more recently.

  My beautiful girl,

  Your Aunt Lizette tells me you’ve been excelling in your archery. I’m glad you are enjoying it. One day, I’ll be able to see your skill in person. But until then, mind your aunt, and know that I’ll always love you, no matter how far away I am.

  With love,

  Mama

  I look over a few more scrolls. Each one is an update between a mother and her daughter, or between sisters. When Merethe became old enough, I suppose she was able to keep in contact with Gracen herself.

  “You shouldn’t be in here.”

  I set the parchments on the table and turn around to face Merethe. She leans against the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

  “You shouldn’t be a liar, and yet, here we are.” My words are cold, distant.

  She approaches the table and begins collecting the small parchment scrolls strewn all over. She cups them gently and lets them fall from her hands and into the box. Her eyes flit everywhere except to my own.

  “So, I take it the letters story was true,” I say, watching her carefully. “Well, at least, some of it.”

  She still says nothing. Her attention is on the full wooden box as she tries to shut the lid.

  I slam my hand on top of the box, forcing her to acknowledge me. “You knew you were my sister, didn’t you?”

  She huffs and slowly turns her gaze to me. “Excuse me?”

  I roll my eyes and grab her hand, the one with the birth mark. I hold it up and shove it in front of her face. “You. Me. Sisters. Stop acting like you didn’t know.” I nod toward the box.

  She snatches her hand back and brings the wooden box close to her chest. “The letters never said for certain who my father was, and Kol is a fairly common name, but I’m not an idiot. So, yeah. I figured it out.”

  She carries the box to her bed and shoves it under her pillow.

  “Sister, or not,” I keep my voice calm, trained, “if you betray me again, I will kill you.”

  I walk toward the door to let her re-examine her next move against me. My promise roars louder than the silence filling the bedroom, so loud, that I almost want her to test my patience.

  Leona

  The next morning, bowls of fresh fruit and soft bread layer the table. We sit around it, picking at the contents, filling our bellies. Merethe sits across from me, her eyes low, careful to not let her gaze linger on any one person for too long. The others’ silent hatred of her is an invisible fog that flows around the food. She sighs then pushes her plate away and rests her arms on the table.

  “Just so you all know,” she says, finally bringing her eyes up, “it wasn’t anything personal. I’m sure you are all lovely peop—”

  Kaleo’s fist lands with a bang on the table. “Cut the shit. What happened to our men at the mountain?”

  Merethe flinches. My eyes are fixed on hers as she handle’s Kaleo’s aggression. After a breath, she regains her tact. She relaxes her shoulders and leans forward. Golden waves frame a heart-shaped face. Youthful. Naive. Deceptive. “As far as I know, your men were taken back to the dungeons.”

  Kaleo’s knuckles pop as he flexes them back into fists. “How many did they take?”

  “No clue.” Merethe crumbles a chunk of bread between her fingers. “I never saw them.”

  “Tell us what you know about Aerok, then,” Colton says.

  “Word around town is that he has set his sights on reopening the arena with people from other countries as well.”

  “How does he expect to do that?” Skylar pops a strawberry into his mouth. “Can’t imagine people will be lining up to volunteer.”

  Aiden shifts in his seat and crosses his arms over his chest. “That didn’t stop him from forcing us into it.”

  “Which kingdom is he targeting?” I drum my fingers on the table.

  Merethe shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve heard rumors of Braer and Espela. It’ll likely be Espela since it’s closest to the military port.”

  Less than a week has passed, and my nation may be on the brink of war with another equally strong nation. Aerok doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s always been driven by impulse, the need to do whatever necessary to win. It was one of the reasons he came so highly recommended as my Lord Commander. He’s traded his title for one that is beyond his scope of understanding. He wants to be a king but has no idea how to maintain a kingdom. First rule: don’t steal people from other nations.

  I push my own plate away. “Espela has a fortified military. How does he plan to breach their walls and take their people without alerting ground forces?”

  Merethe looks up at the chandelier hanging above our heads. She studies it for a second before returning my gaze. “When I was leaving the castle, I overheard some of the guards posted outside when they didn’t think I was listening. They were talking about how Aerok had sent a group, maybe thirty to forty of his best men on a single ship. No war banners. Nothing on the ship that would announce the nation that is invading.” Everyone’s quiet, hanging onto her words. “I’m assuming he plans to have the guards sneak onshore, collect people during the night, and set sail before anyone notices the absences.”

  “When does he plan on doing this?” Kaleo asks, his voice hoarse.

  “Now.” Merethe blinks. “If the guards I overheard weren’t lying, they should already be on their way.”

  “You mean, if you’re not lying.” Colton’s jaw is clenched, his eyes ten different levels of suspicious. “How old are you, anyway? Twelve?”

  All Merethe can do in response is scoff. She flips her hair over her shoulder. “Seventeen next month—so, three years older than the age your brain is stuck in. And, I’m telling you the truth. Whether or not you want to believe it, that’s on you.”

  Colton opens his mouth to launch another comeback. Under the table, I reach a hand out to touch his leg. He looks at me reluctantly then settles.

  “There are nearly four-hundred guards,” I start, “best case scenario, forty of them are on a ship headed elsewhere, half are off-duty in the barracks, and fifty or so are patrolling the castle—”

  Merethe shakes her head. “Actually, there were a lot less guards in the castle when I was there. A single guard was posted maybe every thirty feet on the castle walls, and if I wanted to, I could turn down a corridor inside and not see anyone.”

  Aerok has decreased his defense. The move may be cocky or reckless—I’m not sure which yet. Of course, why would he have anything to fear at the moment? He’s gotten everything he’s ever wanted—a heavy crown to fill the hollowness of his heart. His choices will be the death of him.

  “So, then the castle is under-guarded, is that what you’re saying?” Rhyn asks. He fidgets with his fingers as though he’s trying to distract his mind from something. It doesn’t seem to be working.

  Merethe nods. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” She presses a finger to the table, dragging it as she speaks. “If you want to get into the castle, now is your best chance to do it.”

  “And what do you get out of it?” Colton asks. Surprisingly, his voice is calm and level, probably luring Merethe into a false sense of security.

  “My aunt,” she says merely. “I want her out. You want to get in. Everyone wins.”

  The room goes quiet. A dozen eyes all look to me as I consider Merethe’s words. It wouldn’t be the first time she misled us. Then again, if she is genuine in her family values, she wouldn’t allow her aunt to remain a pawn in Aerok’s game.

  I nod. “For your sake, I hope you’re not lying.”

  One of th
e things Merethe’s aunt had acquired was a stable of horses. Dozens of them. Each one primed and healthy and available for use. Aiden pulls me aside while the others are preparing a few horses for travel.

  “We’re still going to stop by Durst, right?” he asks.

  “Of course.” I smile.

  “Do you trust her?” He peers at Merethe as she slips the bridle over her horse’s head.

  My smile fades. “Not at all.”

  “Do the others know? Colton?”

  The pressure in my temples build and my eyes are grim. I shake my head. “No. They’ll know when it’s time.”

  A crease sinks into Aiden’s forehead. I look over his shoulder as the others approach with the horses.

  “Can I count on you?” I whisper.

  He nods solemnly then wipes his face clean of angst before Colton notices.

  Colton guides a chocolate thoroughbred to me. Draped over its hindquarters are riding bags full of supplies Skylar pillaged from the city. He extends his hand to help me up. His palm is calloused and delicate all at once. My thoughts swirl back to what it felt like to have them on my body. I flush and quickly mount the horse, hoping he didn’t see his effect on me. It pains me not being upfront with him, but it’s better this way. In time, he’ll see that I’m protecting him. Colton offers me a kind smile then mounts his own horse. Soon after, we’re trotting out of Atmoor under the rising sun.

  By mid-afternoon, we enter the small village of Durst. What it lacks in size, it makes up for in beauty, just as I remember it. Blossoming flowers of all colors line the pathway into the community. The homes are similar to the ones in Maburh, except here, most are two-story constructions.

  We capture the attention of the few people littering the streets. I pull the hood of my cloak down to cover my face and tuck my dark hair back as well. Hair so black it looks blue, people described it as. They glance up from toiling away in the front of their homes as we pass by on our horses. A young child tries to dash toward us, but his mother pulls him back and hides him behind her legs. Is this what life in my kingdom has come to? Instead of visitors being welcomed, people fear newcomers, fear the unknown?