Amber Eyes

by S. D. Grimm

  With a grating rumble the door opened, and Connor shot through into a sweltering kitchen. And it smelled divine.

  Cooks manned the three ovens, and four women in brown dresses faced the tables, rolling and kneading dough or chopping vegetables. No one faced him except a young girl holding a basket of bread. Flour dusted her cheek and she nearly dropped the basket, but Connor recognized her. Cecilia—she often gave him an extra piece of bread or fruit when no one was looking. Would she help him now?

  He reached forward and caught the basket for her. As she steadied it in her hands, he held his finger up to his lips. She clamped her mouth closed and nodded once. She leaned toward one of the girls chopping vegetables. “That pot is boiling over.”

  With a sigh, the girl left her station at the table and handed Cecilia the knife. “Finish chopping, will you?”

  Cecilia nodded and waved for Connor to hide under the table, the servants making a wall of dresses to shield him from those who would come into the kitchen the way he’d come.

  “Cecilia, there aren’t enough loaves in that basket. You know how King Franco likes to—”

  The hidden door grated open again, and the cook stopped and stared at it. So did Cecilia. Connor peered between the skirts hiding him.

  Three soldiers and Captain Jonis broke through. “Where is he?”

  “Beg your pardon?” The head cook placed her hands on her narrow hips. “You’ll not be in here to take my staff, I hope. Wait until after supper at least to perform your beheadings.”

  Jonis’s chest swelled and he stepped up to the cook, but she walked right past him, back to the stone wall. “How’d you get that to open?”

  “Did you see a man run through here?”

  “No.”

  “Quickest way out of here?”

  She pointed. “Get. You’re likely to make my cake fall. If you do, it’ll be your head. Y’hear?” She called after him. Then she grabbed the bread basket from Cecilia. “I don’t want to know a thing, child. Just put the bread on the king’s tray.”

  When her back was turned, Connor crept out from beneath the table. Cecilia hurried with him toward the door and handed him a loaf of bread. “Why is the captain looking for you?”

  “He’s not. He mistook me for someone else. It’s dark in there.”

  “And you didn’t reveal yourself? Your friends are lucky, Connor.”

  He held up the bread and winked as he headed back into the tunnels. “So am I.”

  Bread eaten, Connor reached the corridor leading to the bard’s gate. Luc, the smithy, was already there. The torchlight betrayed relief in his green eyes. “What kept you, friend?”

  Connor shrugged. “The less you know, the better. Do you have it?”

  Luc handed him a flask with the initials “T. A.” Perfect. Now Connor would be able to successfully impersonate the guard. He pocketed it. “All right, head back to the smithy. Make sure someone sees you around the time the prisoners go missing.” He clutched Luc’s shoulder. “I can’t have anyone thinking you’re involved.”

  Luc nodded. “And you be careful. I’m sure Lieutenant Tobias will be here to take his post soon, especially if he thinks his flask could be here. You haven’t much time.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be gone before he gets here.” Connor tipped his head to the side and smirked. “Just make sure you’re at the entrance to the tunnel when they get there.”

  “I will be.” Luc patted Connor’s shoulder and passed him the key. “The wooden plank has been moved.” He took his torch and headed out the bard’s gate but called over his shoulder, “Just don’t forget to put it back.”

  Right, because then the loose bricks in the wall would move and the escape would be uncovered. Connor turned on his heel and walked through a different corridor, his wolf senses making it easier to get around in the darkness.

  At last he made it to the guard’s station. Before he turned the corner, he made sure to look just like Tobias.

  The other guard eyed him. “It’s time to change already?”

  Connor shook his head and stumbled, acting drunk. “Any peep from the prisoners?”

  “Nah. The potion is supposed to be ready today. Make sure you’re not asleep on the job this time.”

  Connor rapped his knuckle against the hidden door in the wall. “It’s solid.” Then he pulled out the flask and offered the other man a drink. He couldn’t recall his name, but Luc said the man loved his drink.

  He chuckled and took a swig.

  Connor smiled. Waited. The man’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped to the ground. That tangle flower worked every time. He chuckled and spilled out the rest of the drink and left the flask. Then he unlocked the secret door, morphed into his true form, and picked up the man’s torch. “Thank you.” He stepped inside and the door locked behind him.

  Fourteen faces looked up at him.

  He held up a knife. “Turn around so I can break your bindings. I’m here to rescue you.”

  One young man stood first. “She told me the man with amber eyes would come.” He smiled. “I was starting to lose hope.”

  Connor sawed through the ropes on the young man’s hands. Amber eyes, huh? He’d seen eyes that color in his nightmares, and they certainly weren’t his own. “Whoever she is, I hope she saw this plan succeeding. Help me untie them.” He handed the man his knife and walked to the wall opposite the one he’d entered. The bricks in the left corner slid out of place as he pushed.

  “What are you doing?” the young man asked.

  Connor faced him, pressing a finger to his lips. “I’ve made a few adjustments to the holding cell. Do you like them?”

  Soft murmurs spread through the group of prisoners, and more bindings fell to the ground. Connor instructed them to pick up every rope. When the space in the bricks was big enough to fit through, one by one they filtered through the hole.

  Once on the other side, Connor gave his torch to the young man he’d first freed. “Lead them down the tunnel until it splits. Then go right. You’ll head up into the smithy. My friend will be waiting there to take you to the escape tunnel.”

  “You’re not coming with us?”

  A small tug on his leg told him Franco was pulling the trace spell binding him to the palace since he’d arranged to meet Franco for some sparring this morning—an alibi and a leash all in one. “I would that I could. But I’m bound here. For now.”

  The young man clasped his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  As they took the torchlight with them, Connor rebuilt the wall and said a prayer for their escape.

  Rebekah woke as the sun spilled across her face. She jolted to a sitting position, then cupped her head in her hands.

  “Headache?”

  The voice from the other side of the room made her pull her blanket up to her chin, thankful that her nightwear was not revealing. “General Balton. What are you doing in here?”

  A tight bandage covered his right hand, revealing a missing thumb, and he held a saucer out with his left. “I brought you some tea. You were complaining about a headache before you went to sleep two nights ago.”

  She stepped out of bed, still clutching her sheet. “Two nights?” Why had she slept for so long? And why couldn’t she recall being anywhere near the general two nights ago?

  “I carried you to your room, and you asked me to stay.” He handed her the tea cup and Rebekah let her blanket fall to the floor as she looked into Felix Balton’s eyes. Dark and brown and hard. Nothing like Logan’s.

  Balton chuckled as he bent to pick up her blanket and threw it on the bed. “It’s all right. I didn’t sleep here. You were obviously feeling ill, and Connor was doting over you. I felt no reason to stay. I just thought I’d check on you again. You look better.” He reached out to touch her cheek, and Rebekah brought the tea cup to her lips to deter his hand.

  She swallowed. “I don’t even remember being ill.”

  “But you do recall being in the assassin’s way tun
nel?”

  “Assassin’s way?” She did not remember. Her heartbeat quickened. Balton smelled like a lion ready to pounce. She stepped back from him and tucked her chin toward her chest. “I’m not feeling very well. I think I’m going to sit down. Perhaps you could send a nurse—”

  Balton grabbed her wrist. “I found you, Rebekah. I know what you were up to.”

  “What makes you so sure?” She took a seat at the table, trying desperately to remain calm.

  He released her arm and sat across from her. “I found you in the assassin’s way right after the prisoners escaped. Tell me, how would they know to go through the secret underground tunnels? Only a select few in the palace know of the assassin’s gate.” His eyes narrowed as if he could ferret a confession out of her. “Franco would be very displeased to find out you had a hand in the escape of that girl Deliverer and Logan. He would have your head, I think.”

  Logan? Logan had been here? Her throat tightened. “Franco?”

  “Yes. Idla’s dead, after all. The Deliverer killed her. Don’t worry.” Felix’s voice grew softer and his finger slid across the back of her hand. “I’m the only one who knows you were there. I’ll keep it a secret.”

  Her heart pounded. “Connor?”

  “Connor doesn’t know. He was out sparring with some of my soldiers.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “After Logan escaped with the others, I found blood outside the entrance of the tunnel. You were in there, unconscious.”

  “I was trying to stop them.”

  “You had the prison keys in your pocket.”

  She felt like a dove in a trap. It was some sort of spell. It had to have been. Her hands were sweating. She put them on her lap and pretended to smooth her nightgown.

  “Logan framed me.” How she spoke his name so calmly amazed her.

  “I believe you, but do you think it will make a difference to Franco?”

  “What do you want?”

  Balton chuckled. “You on my arm. Perhaps the throne. I have my own plans to take it from Franco. I hope you will reconsider my offer of marriage. I’ll give you another chance.” He placed a ring on the table. Gold with a diamond.

  Rebekah stared at it.

  “Make me the happiest man in the kingdom, and you’ll never have to worry about your secret slipping out. Think on it, because if I become king, you’ll be my queen or you’ll die.” He stood and showed himself to the door.

  She remained still as a frightened doe until she no longer heard his footsteps echoing down the hall. What had happened?

  A knock pelted the door. Connor. She pocketed Balton’s suggestion. There was no reason for her son to know about this now.

  Connor entered and raced over to her. “What’s wrong? How long have you been up? I saw the general leaving.”

  “Logan was here?”

  Connor leaned back. His eyes met hers with a hint of fear in them. “What do you remember?”

  So it was true.

  “I—I don’t . . .” She looked at the cup on the table. “Tea. I remember Oswell bringing me tea.”

  “Right after I was ordered to go sparring and hunting off palace grounds with Balton’s men?”

  “Yes.”

  “Idla spelled you.”

  Of course. “You?”

  Connor shook his head. “She just sent me out of the palace.”

  “But you didn’t leave?”

  “I did. I brought Luc. The two of us may have feigned getting lost while tracking a wild boar. Whatever secrets I have are safe.”

  “What happened to Logan?”

  “Balton captured him and three Children of the Blood Moon and brought them here. They escaped. The Deliverers are being drawn to him.”

  “How did they escape?”

  Connor’s eyes darted to the floor. “I can’t tell you.”

  “Balton says he found me in the assassin’s way.”

  Connor’s head shot up. “That’s how . . .”

  “He says I had the prison keys in my pocket.”

  “The keys?” Connor growled. “I know who planted the keys on you.” He stood, hands fisted, and walked to the door.

  “Connor, what are you not telling me?”

  Her son looked over his shoulder. “Enough to keep you safe from Belladonna’s prying.”

  Chapter 8

  Three Little Things

  Thea smirked. So the softhearted Jayden had a temper after all. Interesting. And good to see a little bit of fire in her eyes. She’d need it. “I do want to talk to you, Softheart. Alone.”

  Ryan stepped between them, his stormy gray eyes boring into Thea with a glare. “No way am I leaving you two alone together.”

  “I agree, kid.” Logan looked at Jayden and his eyebrows rose slightly.

  Was he asking Jayden what she wanted? Good. Maybe Thea could convince Softheart into that one-on-one conversation after all. Being able to see the future was one thing. Not being able to pick and choose what she saw was something else entirely. Thea needed this conversation; she just wasn’t sure which cards to play to get it. Sometimes it was in the future visions. Other times it wasn’t.

  “Don’t be so overprotective, Charmer.” She winked at Ryan. “Tie me up first. I don’t care. I have something for her ears alone.” Her eyes bored into Jayden, and she guarded her emotions. It wouldn’t be good if Jayden used her talent to sense Thea’s uncertainty.

  Jayden sheathed her weapons. “I’ll leave her alive.”

  Thea silenced a laugh. Yes, this new fire would do nicely.

  Logan lowered his weapon but didn’t put it away. “She’s a liar, Jayden. Don’t let her create false hope.”

  Too late. Softheart wanted so badly to believe her soldier was alive, it shone in her eyes. That ray of hope was foreign to Thea, but it fueled her endgame.

  Jayden straightened her back. “I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t hear her out.”

  Logan nodded. “All right. We’ll secure her and you can talk, but if she says anything you don’t like, just walk away.”

  Perfect.

  Jayden approached the tree they’d tied Thea to. The assassin sat on the ground with her ankles bound together. Rope secured her waist and shoulders, pinning her arms close, but her hands were tied behind her, just like when Jayden’s brothers used to tie Geoffrey, the family scarecrow, to one of the apple trees for target practice. Jayden stopped just far enough away that she could still hear what Thea had to say. The perfect distance to throw a knife between the assassin’s eyes.

  Thea looked right at her. “You don’t really want to hurt me.”

  “You’d be surprised.” Jayden clutched her weapon but didn’t pull it out. Something about Thea’s presence stoked her anger in a way she’d never experienced.

  “I wasn’t lying about Ethan, but he is in danger. You all are.”

  “Please.” Jayden opened her talent. “The fact that we’re in danger is hardly news.”

  She reached forward into Thea’s heart. Feelings pulsed there, like strings connected to a heartbeat. Jayden mentally strummed them, and for the briefest moment everything rushed into her. Fear, anger, hatred, worry, regret, love. Nothing that could tell her whether or not Ethan lived. Why couldn’t her talent be discerning lies? Much more helpful than feeling stupid emotions—not to mention less distracting. How on Soleden was she supposed to defeat enemies by understanding their feelings? She probed anyway.

  “You’re stronger than I thought.” Thea’s voice was quiet. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You did face the queen and survive. I knew you would, but when I met you, I had my doubts.”

  “What do you mean, you knew? That I would defeat her or that I would live?”

  “Both.”

  “How could you possibly know?”

  “I know a lot of things. You saw my birthmark. I have talents, too. I’ve seen things. You killing Idla. This moment. Your death.”

  Her . . . death? Jayden’s heart choked her, but
she kept her expression steady. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

  Thea shrugged. “It shouldn’t be news. Deliverers don’t usually survive. You should know what they’re up against. The history of the Deliverers is recorded in the library of Erinecath. You can see for yourself. Learn from past mistakes. Maybe you’ll make it out of this whole thing alive. Sometimes the future changes. I’m rooting for you.”

  “You lie.”

  “Sometimes. Not this time. Let me show you the source of much of my knowledge. Maybe then you’ll believe me. It’s in my pocket.”

  Jayden didn’t move closer.

  Thea’s emotions remained the same, as if she always felt this way regardless of what she was doing. “You’ll have to reach it for me.”

  “Just skip to the message. Or don’t you have one?”

  “Yes. But I need the stone in my pocket to tell you.”

  Of course she did. Jayden straightened her back and crossed her arms.

  Thea shrugged. “It’s a seeing stone. It will show you things that other people with seeing stones can see. Right now Franco is looking in the stone. What he’s saying will be of interest to you.”

  Jayden bent to eye level. “I don’t trust you.”

  “You’ll regret it if you don’t look.”

  A taunt, but it worked. If a chance existed that Ethan was alive, he deserved to have her look for him. Especially if he was somewhere dying. A lump formed in her throat, and she pulled a ball of fabric from Thea’s pocket. Evil seemed to permeate the fabric.

  Thea watched her intently. “If you give it back to me after you use it, it won’t tempt you further.”

  The sense of urgency bled through Thea. No hint of malice. The hatred beat in her heart, but not toward Jayden. That emotion was just a ball in the center of Thea’s being. Sad that it would have such a permanent hold on her.

  Jayden unwrapped the trinket. It had a sharp, jagged edge and a flat side. The other side was smooth. A flame seemed to burn within the surface. Then hard blue eyes appeared. Eyes she remembered. Franco’s.