Fireblood

SIXTEEN

I shake, my body wracked with cold, making it difficult to stand. My mind spins with thoughts of King Hart and Rebels and torture devices. My legs tremble and give out, almost dropping me to the forest floor.

Devlan links one arm under my legs, the other around my shoulders, and sweeps me up. I wrap my arms around his neck as the quick motion nearly sends me forward. My dagger dangles loosely from my hand against his shoulder.

I savor the body heat he provides before we reach the river bank and he deposits me on one of the logs, the same one I sat on the day Sebastian brought me here. The night air presses on my wet dress, and I feel like I’m wrapped in sheets of ice.

He stands beside me and looks down. “You’re cold.” He removes his vest, then his gray tunic. The moonlight washes his bare chest in pale light, the shadows accentuating his lean muscles. I turn my head, forcing my eyes away, but can’t help peeking. He turns around to place his vest on the log and his back catches the light. A large scar slices down his left shoulder blade toward the middle of his back.

My heart thuds against my breastbone. I avert my eyes and sheath my dagger. Whatever made that mark must have been painful. As he turns around, I jerk my head sharply and look toward the woods. “Here.” He comes up beside me. “Lift your arms.”

I’m too cold to fight him. I lift my arms and he slips his tunic over my head. It’s twice, maybe three times the size of me, but it still carries his body heat. I wrap my arms around my stomach, drawing in the warmth. His scent—the sweetness I can never pin down—fills my senses and my chest tightens. I used to associate it and the smell of mint and forest with the protection I felt from him. Now it infuses me with fear.

He sits on the log beside me and stares. Silent. It’s going to drive me mad.

“Were you planning to elaborate on your confession?” My stomach knots with unease at being so near a traitor, but I forge on. “Or is that as much of an explanation as I’m to get?”

He pushes his dark hair back and looks at the vest in his lap, then pulls it over his head. I’m relieved I don’t have to stare at his chest anymore. But his bare arms, flexing as he grips and re-grips his hands, wringing them, are still distracting.

Finally, he says, “I planned to unveil things much later.” He palms his thighs and leans forward. “But your snooping doesn’t give me much choice now.”

I don’t deny it. I was snooping. I straighten my back and raise an eyebrow, urging him on.

“What you, and most citizens for that matter, don’t know is that there is an ever-present uprising in Karm.” His brow creases. “The Rebels have been players in a silent war ever since a battle took place between us and the Force. It was after the Rebels lost that we chose to attack from the inside to bring down the barrier.” He takes a deep breath. “And this is the closest we’ve ever been to seeing that realized.”

I shake my head. “How do I not know about this? How does everyone not know about this?”

“Because, the last time the Rebels exposed themselves and fought against the Force hundreds were slaughtered.” He hangs his head. “The memory of that war has been buried. All those old enough to remember? Gone. Disposed of. The Rebels were nearly all taken out, too. The technology Hart possesses is something no one has seen since the Final War. And it’s something we can only access by getting to King Hart.” He laughs hollowly and looks up. “But as you know, no one can get to him. No one knows where he, or the mainframe that controls Karm, is.”

I grip my sides tighter, my head swimming with confusion and questions I want answered immediately, but I stay quiet. I’ve never heard Devlan speak so much, or so passionately, about anything.

“We’ve worked hard to be unseen, make them believe there’s only a small group so that King Hart believes the threat is close to being eliminated. It’s the only way we’re going to get someone close enough to him.”

“I can understand wanting change for Karm”—every time the Force beat my father, I prayed for it—“but why the barrier? What about Outside? Why are you risking so much for a wasteland? And one that is rumored to be dangerous?” I suck in a breath. “What if you succeed and it’s worse out there than in here? I mean, at least here there’s vegetation and food and we’re protected from monsters.” I’m surprised the words have left my mouth. After all my fervent arguments about change, this should sound like the answer. But it’s the truth. What are they fighting so hard to get to?

He exhales heavily, the air fogging as it passes his lips. “There’s just too much to explain.” He drives his hand through his hair, frustrated. Then he rises and extends his hand. “Come on. We could talk all night and by dawn there’d still be more to tell.”

I push his hand aside. “I’m not going anywhere until I get some straight answers, Devlan.” I rise to stand before him, my head angled back to meet his shadowed eyes. “Just tell me this. What I heard tonight, if the Rebels are the ‘good guys,’ how could you kill me? I’ve done nothing—am no one.”

His eyes are hard on mine. “You were to be the key.”

Taking a step back, I wrap my arms around myself and shrink against his steady glare. “I’m not a key…whatever that means.”

He steps closer and extends his hand again. “We should be moving.” He glances around, and I’m suddenly wary. I ignore his hand and instead jerk my head sideways, motioning him to walk ahead of me.

He releases a groan and backs away. “Wait here.”

Disappearing through the crumbled opening of the wall, he leaves me behind in the dark with only the crickets and trickling of the river. Before I have time to fear the unknown of the forest, he returns with Fireblood in tow.

“What about the Eyes in the castle? And what about Hawken? Shouldn’t I bring her?” The thought of being away from Court excites me.

“I have it covered.”

I study his assured features, and decide he does. Will I be able to escape him once we’re farther away? It’s a chance I’m willing to take.

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.”