He sets off and I walk just behind him, off to his side, as he leads Fireblood. “Believe me”—he unsheathes his sword and knocks a low limb aside as he clears our path—“I had no knowledge of the former leader’s plan. Even if Micah was still here, once the mission was to take place, I’d have stopped it. I won’t allow anyone to harm you.”
“But I still don’t understand. Who’s Micah? And why me? I don’t know anything.”
He cuts down a vine. “We don’t know how much Sebastian knows of King Hart’s operation. But regardless, he is to be King. Whether he knows everything now or not, soon Hart will prepare Sebastian to take over. We needed to get someone close to the prince. Someone he’d trust. Someone who could gain access through Sebastian to Hart’s operation.”
I step over a root as understanding dawns. “And that was me. But how could I do this if I was dead?”
“No,” he says. “It was me.” He turns on me. His face clouds over in the wan moonlight. “I had a close relationship with him once. The day I left Court, the Rebels recruited me, and it’s since been my mission to train and get back on the inside.”
I hold his stare. What happened between them for Devlan to so easily side against his former friend and join the Rebels? “I’m more confused.”
“I know.” He again turns and swipes his sword at the brush, moving us through the forest. “This won’t work. This is why I was trying to take my time with you.” He tugs Fireblood’s reins, leading her over a fallen limb. “I should never have allowed Larkin to come back. God, I hate that guy.”
“Just tell me.”
“Fine, Zara.”
His use of my name gains my full attention, and I move closer to his side.
“Micah, the previous leader of the Rebels, had a plan in effect. She thought disposing of you would make Sebastian distraught, and he’d seek solace in his former best friend.” He points to himself for clarity. “That he’d become so vengeful against the Rebels, he’d bring me into his counsel to formulate a counterstrike against them.”
My mouth drops open. “That’s sick.”
“Yeah, it was a sadistic plan. Micah was losing her mind to the Virus.” He shakes his head. “That plan would never have been carried out. I wouldn’t have let it.” He cranes his neck and his eyes trail over me. “You have to trust me. I would’ve killed Larkin with my bare hands before he ever placed one on you.”
The shimmering river catches his irises, and I can only see the depth of his eyes—hear the conviction in his voice. “I believe you.”
Nodding once, he returns to sweeping the forest floor with his sword. Fireblood huffs and bats a tree limb aside with her head. “Larkin’s angry with the change in command. He’s committed his whole life to the Rebels. Regardless of his stupidity, he won’t disobey orders. He was just trying to push me tonight. It’s been frustrating trying to adapt to Fallon as our new leader.” He groans and cuts down a vine. “But I need to speak with her. Ever since you came here, I’ve seen the mission clearly.”
“And what’s that?”
He halts and faces me. “I don’t think I’m the one at all.” His eyes seek me through the darkness. “You’re the one who can get close to Sebastian, and through him, King Hart.”
I jump backward and hold my hands up. “Oh, no. No, no. I don’t have anything to do with this. You and your band of Rebels…just no.” I lace my arms across my chest. “I only wanted to get away—to not have to marry Sebastian. To not have to look over my shoulder every time I sneezed, worried someone would lock me away, or torture me for stepping out of line. I’m not looking to sign up for your crazy mission.” I mock-laugh. “It’s suicide.”
Ignoring my rant, he cleaves another branch, and the forest reveals a cleared area ahead.
“Devlan, stop. I want to go back.” I’m shocked that the words have left my mouth, but they’re true. I want to be out of the forest and somewhere I can think clearly. “How far have we gone?”
“I think it’s better to show you.” He sheaths his sword. “I can try to convince you all night and we’ll get nowhere. You need to see with your own eyes.”
He mounts Fireblood and lowers his hand to me.
I study it, not sure what to do. Glancing over my shoulder, I look back through the dense forest, as if I can see beyond it and past the wall—to the castle. Then I look up at him. “How do I know you’re not taking me off to kill me?” I wrap my arms around my waist tighter, grabbing fistfuls of his tunic. “You’ve exposed yourself, and now I know too much. How can I trust that you’re not going to get rid of me because I won’t help you?”
His lips twitch into a side-grin. “I guess you can’t.” He extends his hand closer to me. “But don’t you think if that were my plan, I’d have done so by now?”
I raise my eyebrows, vexed.
He sighs. “I promise. No harm will come to you. You have my word.”
“That’s not good enough. From your own admission, you’ve lied to many people.” I eye him.
He matches the intensity of my glare. “You have my word on my parents’ lives, no one will hurt you.”
My face scrunches. “I thought your parents were…” I trail off. It’s still ingrained in me not to speak of the Taken. “I thought they were dead.”
“In a sense, they are. But in another, they are very much alive.” His face hardens. “Do you want the truth or not?”
I take his hand, and he pulls me atop Fireblood. “I do.” I have to know what he means about his parents. I’m probably making the biggest mistake of my life. I’ll probably not return alive. Either way, there’s no going back to my life unchanged. I have to take the chance.
I have to know the truth.
He turns his head toward me and smiles, like he knew my choice all along. “Then let’s go.”
I latch my arms around him. “First, tell me where we’re going.”
He kicks her sides, and Fireblood takes off. Through the whistling in my ears, he says, “The Rebel camp.”
SEVENTEEN
It’s the first time in nearly a week I’ve been this far away from Court, and my hands tremble. It feels much longer. I wrap my arms tighter around Devlan. Fireblood slows to a steady trot as we enter another dense section of the forest.
Certain things about Devlan are becoming clear. His dialogue, for one. I noticed he’d slip into more modern speech—something my father did at times—when we were alone. My father warned all the time to be cautious of this. Though he’d sneak me books from the old world, I was never to speak the way the characters did.
What if this camp has books and others things, like movies or clothes, that my father told me still exist? A place against the rule of King Hart. Maybe I’ll learn of things my father refused to explain for fear of being accused of treason.
We move slowly through the forest, creeping through the thick brush, and too many questions fill my head. I have to pace myself.
I remember thinking Devlan was jealous of Sebastian. My assumptions for all his strange behavior couldn’t have been further off. While I was right to toss aside the thought he could have romantic notions for me, I could’ve never come to the conclusion he was scouting me to be part of his Rebel mission.
I shake my head. The idea of me…me lurking around the castle like some spy, like one of the characters I’ve read about in my banned books. I almost laugh out loud, the thought is so preposterous.
“Will you answer me something else?” I ask Devlan.
“I can try.”
“Did you truly believe I could carry out your crazy mission?”
He’s quiet a moment. “Yes. And I still believe you can.” He adjusts the reins in one hand so he can rest the other on his thigh. “I wouldn’t have been spending so much time training you to ride, prepping you to use your mind and body to be aware of things, if I didn’t feel you were worth the investment.”
My stomach sinks. I’m nothing but an “investment” to him. Does he even see me as a real person w
ho could lose her life? Or am I only a chess piece to be maneuvered? “Well, you’re sadly mistaken. Not that I’m not humbled by your flattery of my talents.” I roll my eyes behind his back. “But you’ve given me no reason to risk my life for your cause.”
“Trust me, Zara,” he says, and it’s still strange hearing my name from his lips. “You will be given plenty of reason by this night’s end.”
I allow him to think so. I can’t argue in the middle of the woods from the back of a horse. After he unveils this big secret, I’ll graciously decline his offer of an early death and try to figure out what to do next.
Recalling his words to me at the meadow, I toss them around my head, then piece them together again. I don’t understand what taking down the barrier will accomplish other than possibly making our life worse than it is inside Karm. Since their falling-out, maybe Devlan has learned nothing of Sebastian’s hidden desires to change things. I wonder if I could convince Devlan that I can sway Sebastian’s rule. If he believes I can become close enough in order to get near King Hart, surely he’ll trust that I can convince Sebastian to make things better in the kingdom. That seems a more logical plan than taking down the barrier so everyone suffers.
If I can’t convince him, how am I going to face Sebastian knowing that his first knight, the person he trusts more than anyone, is plotting against him? How can I look Sebastian in the eyes knowing that one day Devlan could turn on him? For now, the Rebels want King Hart, but soon Sebastian will be King and will have the knowledge they seek. It will only be a matter of time before they plot against Sebastian.
A shiver shoots through my body. No matter how arrogant and vain Sebastian is, he’s not deserving of me working with the Rebels to destroy him. I can’t be a part of this.
Before my mind can swallow me whole, consumed with dark, impossible thoughts, Devlan lays his hand over mine. “Hold tight.”
I barely have time to adjust my grip before he kicks his heels and we’re racing at breakneck speed through the forest. It’s less thick here, but there’re still too many trees, and I can’t clearly see the path he’s taking. I rest my cheek against his back and force my eyes closed.
When we finally slow, I open my eyes and gasp. Twinkling lights clutter the forest before me. Small flames burn in the distance. My chest constricts. I probably won’t come away from this place unscathed.
Or alive.
Devlan’s hand clasps mine. “Time to unhorse.” He helps me down first before he jumps off. Grabbing the reins, he turns toward me. “Take out your dagger.”
“Here?” I glance around. It’s farther into the forest than I’ve ever been. Most likely on the outskirts of Karm, close to the barrier. I widen my eyes at him. “Are you sure that’s wise? Won’t I be attacked walking into a camp full of armed Rebels carrying a weapon?”
His lips curl up on one side. “For once, just do as I say.” He starts walking toward the camp.
I scramble to unsheathe my dagger and hold it against my thigh, tucked under my forearm. I don’t want to be shot with an arrow or impaled by a sword as soon as I enter, so I keep it hidden.
Brown tents scatter the wooded area and campfires burn low, their embers lighting the camp in an eerie glow. Smoke and earth and the faint scent of jasmine fill the air. I swallow hard as we near the grounds, my throat thick and scratchy from the chill ride. It’s far too quiet. My senses go on high alert.
A snap sounds from behind us.
“State your order,” a deep voice says.
Devlan freezes. “Silas, it’s me, Devlan. Do I really have to recite that long-ass number?” He turns around, a wide smile on his face. A similar smile to the one he wore as he held me in the mud.
I slowly turn and face the man with the booming voice. He’s so tall that I have to angle my head uncomfortably to see his face. He’s bald and has a long white scar carving the side of his face. He wears dark clothing, masking him against the night.
Silas laughs. “Well, Devlan. Damn, son. What are you doing here?” He slaps Devlan’s back. “You know, I thought you abandoned us. Micah didn’t inform me—” He cuts off sharply as his gaze finds me. “What the hell is she doing here?”
“Zara,” Devlan says. “Please show Silas your dagger.”
Sweat beads across my brow. I’m about to do the stupidest thing—pull out a weapon on this giant man. I shakily extend my hand, revealing my father’s dagger. I lay it flat in my palm, hilt pointed out, so it doesn’t look like I intend to use it.
Silas’s eyes widen. “That crazy bitch.”
I’m taken aback, nearly dropping the dagger to the forest floor. Is he implying I’m a…? Before I finish the thought, Devlan says, “Yeah, Micah was. Imagine my surprise when I discovered it.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I need to speak with Fallon.”
Silas nods. “I think she’ll be interested in this development.” He waves his hand before us, ushering us forward.
I’m erupting with questions, wanting to demand knowledge of what they’re talking about, but I clamp my mouth shut. I have to be wise and figure out this scenario without getting myself deeper in the mess I’ve landed in.
We head toward a tent in the middle of the camp. Silas pulls back the flap, and suddenly, my feet won’t take me another step farther. I’m rigid with fear. Devlan moves beside me. “Zara, I promised that no one would harm you.” He takes my hand. “You have to trust me.”
I look down at our joined hands. I don’t trust him. I barely know him, and what I do know has proven that he isn’t really trustworthy. But I’ve come too far, have too many questions to stop now, and I don’t have a choice. I’m in the middle of a secret Rebel encampment with nowhere to run.
I step into the tent.
Candles burn low on a desk to my right. A girl stands in the center of the tent, dressed all in black, her dark hair pulled into a tight bun. Her face is partially shadowed, but she looks familiar. I squint, trying to recall where I’ve seen her before.
Silas nods to Devlan. “Fallon, the first knight has graced us with his presence.” He looks at Devlan. “A surprise appearance.”
“Devlan,” the girl says. “It’s nice to finally meet you face to face.” She beams at him, and suddenly I recall where I’ve seen her. The girl in the cream dress from my betrothal celebration. I suck in a sharp breath.
“Fallon.” Devlan nods once, dipping his head low. “Likewise to you. Sorry circumstances were as such we couldn’t meet properly at the betrothal.” He pulls me alongside him, bringing me before her. “This is Princess Zara.” He takes the dagger out of my other hand. “And I trust you know what this is.”
Her dark eyes go wide. “How is that possible?” She shakes her head. “Micah knew…she had to have…” She slams her hand on the desk and I flinch. “Dammit.” She looks down at her desk for a moment, then raises her eyes to me. “Well, I suppose it’s a good thing we changed the mission.”
Really? She supposes it’s a good thing they didn’t kill me? What have I gotten myself into? What is it about my father’s dagger that causes so much interest? I’m nearly ready to pull at my hair and demand to know when Fallon looks at Devlan and says, “That doesn’t explain what she’s doing here, though.”
Devlan clears his throat, and Silas closes the tent flap. My nerves are about to consume me. I finally work up the courage to speak. “I would like to know the same.” I turn to Devlan.
“Well?” Fallon prompts. “Before we’re raided by the Force to take back the princess.”
Devlan shakes his head. “No one is aware she’s gone. I had Xander inform her maid she was tired from her horseback lesson and requested to rest for the night.” He waves his communicator. “He’s keeping watch over her chamber now.”
“That’s at least a relief,” she says with a small smile. “And how’s Xander doing back on the inside?”
Devlan straightens, as if he’s about to give a report to his commander—which I suppose he is. “Xander’s demotion didn’t rai
se any questions, and he goes unnoticed by the rest of the knights. He’ll be able to keep a low profile as a footman.”
Fallon nods. “All right. Good.”
“I’d like to know what his part is,” Devlan says. Fallon raises her eyebrows. “If I’m to lead a new mission, I need to know how to direct Xander.”
She schools her features, but I glimpse concern in her eyes before Fallon regards Devlan with a hard stare. “That information is classified—at least, until Xander decides it’s not.”
Devlan’s brows furrow, but he says respectfully, “Yes ma’am.”
“And remember, Devlan,” Fallon continues. “You’re to lead the new mission, but Xander is now my second in command. You’ll answer to him if I send new orders.” Devlan nods, and Fallon returns her gaze to me. “I assume she doesn’t know anything. Huh.” She stares at the ground a moment. “But, I think I can connect the dots, Devlan. I see where we can take this.”
I glance between them, wondering how anyone is connecting anything. “Would someone please tell me something?” I plead, upset that my voice shakes.
Devlan releases a heavy breath and turns toward me. He hands me the dagger, wrapping my fingers around the hilt. “This…that you hold in your hand”—his eyes capture mine—“is a very powerful symbol. It belonged to the Rebel who coordinated the first uprising.”
My mouth drops open, ready to deny his claim, but he presses on. “Your father.”
“No,” I say, barely above a whisper. I turn my back on them and say with more conviction, “No.”
“Yes, Zara.” He places a hand on my shoulder. “Your father was the first Rebel leader.”
EIGHTEEN
I jerk out of Devlan’s grasp. Whirling around, I stare first at Fallon’s downcast eyes avoiding me, then at Devlan, his features etched with pity. Anger sears my chest. “No.” I shake my head. “You’re lying. My father was a farmer—a cloner. You’re mistaken.”
No one responds. Devlan only continues to watch me with sympathy lacing his eyes. I wish he’d argue—be the stubborn ass he always is—but he just stares at me. Unexpectedly, Fallon steps forward.
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