“I won’t say anything, Devlan.” I match the intensity of his gaze. I won’t do or say anything that will endanger my father further. He has to understand this. “I promise.”
He puffs out a long, foggy breath. “I have to know your feelings toward him. This is going to be more difficult than you think. I need the truth.” He steps closer, his eyes trail over my face. “Have you fallen for him?”
“Nay,” I answer quickly, then revise my speech. “No,” I say more forcefully. “I don’t love Sebastian.”
As stoic as Devlan always appears, I expect his features to remain a hard mask, revealing nothing. But for a fraction of a second—so quickly that if I’d blinked, I’d have missed it—relief washes over his face. A small relaxation of his features. A softening of his eyes, and a glimmer in their pale blue. Then it’s gone.
“All right,” he says. “Let’s announce our plans to Fallon, then get back to the castle. We’ve pressed our luck too far for one night.”
I wrap my arms around myself, clutching his tunic to me, and follow him back through the camp. A twinge of guilt eats at my stomach, and I press my hand over the ache in my chest, feeling the locket beneath my palm. No, I don’t love Sebastian. That question is easily enough answered.
I keep up with Devlan as we near the Rebel leader’s tent, and the real question begins to plague my mind.
How far will I go to save my father?
Without knowing who Sebastian truly is, and how much involvement he has with his father’s vile conspiracy, I can’t answer that yet. I would never consciously do anything to hurt an innocent, and Sebastian may be just that.
But if he had anything at all to do with putting my father Outside…
I ball my hands into fists. If he’s a part of this in any way, he’ll regret the day he brought me to Castle Karm.
* * *
“She’s taken enough for now.” Devlan gives Fallon a hard stare. “I’ll fill her in on everything she needs to know over the next week.”
Fallon touches her hand to the side of her head, smoothing her hair back toward her bun. “I trust you will, Devlan.” She walks to her desk and sits. The low-burning candles cast her shadow against the tent. “Now that the princess has decided to join our forces, we have more time to work with.”
I wince at princess. “Please, Fallon, don’t call me that.” I meet her eyes before standing and stretching out my legs.
A small smile slides across her face. “Sorry.” She waves a leather-gloved hand through the air. “It’s how we’ve been referring to you. Old habits. But Zara fits you much better.”
I return her smile. “Thank you.”
“Right. We need to go.” Devlan pushes himself up off the dirt floor and nods to Fallon. “I’ll contact you after Sunday.”
I’d forgotten about this Sunday—about all the ceremonies to come and the banns. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing I could reach inside my head and quiet the noise. Too much has been revealed to me. I can’t grasp all that has happened in a day, or all that I still have to learn. To perform.
“Zara.” Devlan awakens me from my daze. “It’s time.”
Fallon rises from her chair, and I notice for the first time that she’s about the same height as me, maybe an inch or two taller. “Devlan gave you a communicator?” I nod, and she holds out her gloved hand. “Let me program my frequency.”
I scrunch my face. “But isn’t that dangerous? What if someone taps into it?”
“Our transmission is secure, and we have the best hacker masking our signal.” As I pull the device from my bodice to hand it to her, she raises her eyebrows. “Exactly where I keep mine.” She winks.
After we say our goodbyes to Silas and Fallon, we hurry through the camp. It’s early morning, and in a couple of hours the castle servants will be rising to start their work. Madity won’t come for me until the sun is up, but we need to be inside the castle before there’s movement.
My limbs are weak, and I stagger a little as I attempt to mount Fireblood. Devlan catches me around the waist. “Here.” He gets atop Fireblood before reaching down. He grasps me under my arms and pulls me up, placing me in front of him. I’m too tired to argue that I am strong enough to ride from behind, and I lay my head on his chest.
My eyes close as he takes the reins in one hand and his horse lurches into motion. His other arm holds me to him. The crickets, the rocking of the horse, and the warmth enveloping me from Devlan’s body nearly lull me to sleep, but the plans made in the Rebels’ tent continually circle my mind. They flap like angry bats and bare fangs, biting, keeping me awake.
The Rebels believe Sebastian will take me to meet the king. They don’t know where King Hart’s secret chamber is located, but they speculate it’s far away from the castle and well-guarded. I’m to learn how to fight with my hands as well as weapons, small lethal ones I can sneak in under my clothes.
I’m to become an assassin.
I’ll take out the guards while Sebastian is under the influence of a poison—a sleeping potion—that I’ll give him before we enter Hart’s chamber. I’ll steal the antidote to the Virus. I’ll discover the location of the control room that houses the mainframe he calls Excalibur. Afterward, I’ll convince Sebastian that a citizen killed his father—a ghost of a man whom we’ll invent—who can be falsely accused without the threat of Sebastian seeking revenge. Over his grieving period, I’ll sway him to join the Rebels, take down the barrier, and save the Taken.
As Fallon, Devlan, and Silas plotted this absurd plan, I nearly bolted from the tent.
I am not an assassin. I have no idea how I’m to do all these things asked of me.
And if I should fail to convince Sebastian in the end? If I discover he’s in on his father’s operation, he becomes factored into the plot. Fallon stressed that we must try to save Sebastian first. I don’t want to think of what measures must be taken if Sebastian is aware of Hart’s project. I can’t. I’ll take it one step at a time, and discern the truth for myself.
The only thing that keeps me from going mad is my father’s face on that monitor—the lost look in his once-loving eyes, the pallid gray of his skin. And I can see no other holding a blade to Hart’s throat.
I can’t fail.
We stop, and I open my eyes and glance around. Even in the dead of night the meadow is beautiful. I didn’t take the time to notice before, as I was running for my life, but the stars’ reflection shimmers in the river, and a wisp of fog diffuses the moonlight, illuminating everything in an unearthly glow.
I want to look at everything more closely now. Never miss a moment.
I don’t know how long I’ll survive this mission.
“We need to walk the horse through the opening,” Devlan says softly.
I nod against his chest, and he slowly lowers me to the ground. My brain is so tired and my body so completely drained, I feel as if I’m in a dream. Nothing feels real. My legs are numb, and I sway as I walk the bank. Despite everything—all that I now know, all the fear that envelopes me—a peace settles in my core.
My father is alive.
“Zara.” Devlan walks up behind me. “I need my tunic. It’ll be difficult enough to explain why we’re out at this hour. No reason to have the servants gossiping as to why you’re wearing my shirt.”
“Oh, right,” I say over my shoulder. “A scandal would botch things pretty good.” I lift my arms, heavy with exhaustion, and only get his shirt past my waistline when Devlan’s hands cover mine. A slight flutter prickles my stomach as he slowly guides the tunic up, and then over my head. He stands there a moment longer. His body heat presses against my back, the sliver of air between us a taut current.
I cease breathing until he steps away, and then I inhale the earthy woods. My mind is too tired, and I’m allowing sleep deprivation to have its way with paranoia. Not all men allow their hormones to lead. Especially Devlan. He wanted his tunic. It’s that simple. He wants me to become an assassin and help take down the barrier. He
’s trained long and hard for his mission. I shake my head. I need sleep.
When I turn around, he’s dressed and taking Fireblood by the reins. I shield myself from the cold, wrapping my arms around myself, and carefully step along the boulders of the brook.
Once we’re both through, he turns to me. “Ride with me. I can lead Hawken behind us.”
His offer is the most tempting thing I’ve ever heard. My whole body wants to drop, but I have to stay strong. I need to get stronger. “I can ride.”
His brows pull together as he stares down at me, but something in my voice must convince him. He nods once, then helps me atop Hawken. After he mounts his horse, we ride hard toward the castle. My arms, legs, and feet become numb as I grip the reins and hold on with my knees, the freezing morning air biting into them. But I hold on. Just a little longer till I can fall into my bed.
We reach the stable, and Devlan slides off his horse and unlatches the gate. He walks Fireblood toward the glass door, and I hunker lower to Hawken’s back as I follow, feeling exposed. I have to trust that Xander, the knight watching my chamber, would alert us if anyone suspected I was missing.
Devlan enters his code and the beam scans his image. “Devlan,” I whisper. His head snaps to me. “It scanned me before. Won’t I—”
“It’s been taken care of. I sent Larkin to the monitoring room to delete the log. He’s the only member of our unit among the Force Round Table.” My chest relaxes, and relief settles over me. He takes out his communicator as we enter the stable. “We’re back,” he says into the device, then puts it away. “He’ll now erase that one as well. Now, we don’t talk about this from here on out.”
He helps me down from the horse and I lean against the stall. Everything is in sequential order, one thing happening and then the next. I move and act as if programmed.
Devlan leads me to the back of the stable, lifts up a trap door, and we climb down. I’m too drained to question as he leads me through a dark tunnel. My brain connects where we are once we enter a low-lit room. Where this night started out. The secret chamber in the castle.
“This is only used by us,” he says. “And only in emergencies. The risk of being seen by anyone in the stable or the Eyes is too great. So only, only in emergencies.” He stresses these last words.
Once I’ve slept and have time to process everything, I’ll think to ask more questions, but right now all I desire is my soft bed and the warmth of my covers. We slip down the corridor, Devlan continuously scanning, and reach my chamber. I’m so thankful I nearly fall into my door.
“Princess Zara,” he says, and I only slightly acknowledge he’s taken on the guise of the first knight again. “Feign ill tomorrow. There will be too many questions from your maid and Sebastian as to why you’re so tired.”
I jerkily nod. “That won’t be difficult. I feel ill already.” I take one last look into his blue eyes, worried and pleading, then dip into my room.
TWENTY
The bright morning sun filters in though my balcony door, slashing its heated rays across my face and eyes.
No.
“Princess,” Madity says cheerfully. “We have a busy day. We must get you fitted for your gown and…” She trails off as I crack an eye open. “What’s the matter with you? You look pale.”
I bury my head underneath the pillow. “I fear I’m ill.” In a rush, all of the night’s happenings come flooding back. My chest constricts, and I squeeze the pillow tighter, trying to conceal my quaking limbs.
Madity removes the pillow and seats herself on the edge of my bed. She runs the back of her hand along my forehead, then my cheek. “Oh, my.” Her face pinches into a concerned expression. “Yes. You do have a fever.”
I’m not surprised in the least. After splashing around in the freezing river, riding in the cold night air, not to mention being mentally and physically fatigued, it’s a wonder I’m lucid at all.
“Well,” she says, pulling her hand onto her lap. “I will have the kitchen make up a steaming batch of chicken broth, and we can do your fitting in your room.” She nods to herself, as if mentally checking off more on her to-do list.
My chest swells with affection for her. “Madity.” She looks at me, coming out of her heavy thoughts. “Thank you.”
Her face beams. “I’ll bring your broth up shortly. Do you need the castle physician? I’ll have someone run into town to visit the apothecary. We’ll need medicines.” Her face waxes over, paling against the light. “Oh, dear. I forgot.”
I bolt upright. “Is Mr. Levine—”
“Shh.” She presses a finger over her thin mouth, quieting me. “Nay, princess. I simply forgot. But someone has surely taken up the apothecary shop. I’ll send a messenger to get medicines.”
My hope deflates. Even though I saw his torture with my own eyes, having seen my father after thinking him dead…I thought it possible.
“Nay.” I scoot back against the wooden headboard. “It’s only a simple bout of fever, Madity. Nothing severe.” Her features relax. I run my hands down my face, rubbing the exhaustion in my muscles away. “I’m just drained from all the events and tasks.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” She stands, straightens her gray servant’s tunic, and heads toward the door. Before she exits, she turns and says, “And horseback lessons.” She shakes her head. “I told you not to take that on. But I believe that is what the prince loves most about you, your willfulness.” Her eyes slant as she searches my face. “And Sir Devlan, I suppose, enjoys having a headstrong charge, too.”
I open my mouth, but before I can think how to respond, she bows and leaves through the door. For a skittish maid, she is far wiser than I’ve given her credit for. I don’t fear she will act on her assumptions, though. I feel she cares for me. I only pray that my actions don’t harm her in any way.
* * *
I sleep for most of the day. After soaking in the warm bath Madity prepared and downing two bowls of chicken broth, I do feel better. Sebastian checked in once, concern etched in the corners of his eyes, but welcomed my illness by way of an explanation for my absence at breakfast.
Remembering the prince’s declaration in the garden, his accepted challenge of gaining my affections, I suppose he’s unwilling to consider that I may not want his company…but maybe his arrogance will work in our favor for discovering his level of involvement in Hart’s schemes.
The afternoon light seeps in through the thick curtains of my dormer window, and I feel I must make an appearance. Devlan hasn’t come to check on my recovery or contacted me on the communicator. I wonder if he fears I’ve already botched the mission, and is off making plans to flee.
Maybe he’s simply giving me time to digest everything. I know he kept things from me, afraid I couldn’t handle them. If I’d tried to cram one more shred of information into my head last night, I would’ve had a breakdown. They’d have hauled me away to the Oubliette instead of feeding me broth.
Now, it’s time. I need to seek out Devlan, piece together the missing parts of the puzzle, and discover what role Sebastian plays. I’m at least thankful King Hart is hidden away. If I had to face him, I would snap.
As soon as I’m dressed and have all my important items in place—dagger strapped to thigh, communicator in bodice, locket around neck, crown atop head—I feel armed and ready to initiate my mission. I only wish I had a small portrait of my father to carry with me also, but that would be even riskier than the dagger.
I think back on the moment Devlan told me my father was incinerated, and I feel manipulated. I understand he didn’t know whether he could trust me with this much knowledge. But if he was planning to groom me into an assassin, he could’ve at least given me a shred of hope rather than allowing me to believe my father had burned to ashes, when, in reality, my father was being taken away to a dark and barren world.
Although the Virus having turned my father into a mindless slave is close enough to death. He was never coming back to me, either way. Now I have a chance
to change that.
I need to know more about Outside. I need to know exactly how the Virus works, and what awaits the Taken. I need to understand everything.
Once I leave my quarters, I slink down the hallways toward the atrium. I feel so out of place, more so than on the first day of my arrival. I fear the sound of every footstep will give me away. Moving silently, I endeavor to become invisible.
I fail at my attempt and am greeted from behind by Sebastian. “Zara,” he says, surprise in his voice.
I jolt and turn to face him. “Sebastian. You startled me.”
He walks up to me and takes one of my hands in his. “You seem to be feeling much better, and your face is full of color.” He kisses the top of my hand.
My lips twitch, and my hand trembles in his grasp. “I am feeling better, thank you.” I try to act casual, force my lips into a smile, but it’s difficult to meet his eyes without thinking of my father.
“Shall we?” He sweeps his hand before me, and I walk beside him. “Where’s Devlan? It’s unlike him to shirk his duties.”
Panic spurs my chest. I want to cover for the first knight, as I’m sure he’s carrying out Rebel duties, but I don’t want to get caught in a lie. Covering for him would look too suspicious, and Devlan managed before I came along. “I relieved him this morning when I thought I’d be down for the day.”
“Right. That makes sense.” He smiles. “I like the thought of having you to myself at the moment anyway.” He winks.
I try to conceal the tremor of my body, hold back the accusations wanting to rip from my mouth, and look ahead as we near the back hall. Loud bangs and shouts echo off the stone walls. I squint, looking past the lower level of the castle. People are milling around, carrying boards and tools.
“What…?” I start to say, but then see the half-built stands. “The tournament.”
Sebastian points toward the middle of the training grounds. “What you saw before was merely our training equipment. This will be the biggest tournament we’ve ever held. The king has appointed me in charge of overseeing the whole thing this season.” He smiles, his face full of pride. “I’m going to make it the grandest tournament Karm has ever witnessed.”
Fireblood Page 17