Fireblood

NINETEEN

I drop the monitor.

It thunks the desk hard. Its blue-green screen flickers in and out, flashing images of my father.

My father’s Outside. He’s one of those workers. He’s in a trance, digging a hole to help power Karm. I don’t blink. I watch him shovel and scoop. Toss the dirt. Shovel and scoop. Toss…

“Zara,” Devlan says softly, near my ear. “I’m going to turn it off now.” He swipes a button on the side of the monitor and the screen goes black.

I press my palms to the table and lean forward. My body begins to tremble. I can’t feel the ground beneath me.

My father’s alive.

The thought is a shot of adrenaline to my heart. I turn toward Devlan and latch onto his arms. “He’s alive.” I blink rapidly, clearing my vision. “I mean, he is alive, right?” Hope hangs in the air like a fragile snowflake dancing around on a warm breath.

He presses his lips together and nods. “His heart beats. And his brain functions. Like my parents, he’s alive, in a sense.” He slips his fingers beneath mine and curls my hands into his, removing my death grip from his arms. Then he leads me to a chair. I don’t realize I’m sitting until I look up at him when he says, “Even if we were to take the barrier down tonight, there’s nothing we can do for them. The Virus takes their minds. They don’t know who they are or were. They’re simply there, programmed to keep Karm running.”

A whirring rises in my ears, and I don’t hear the last of his sentence. I spring out of the chair and barely hear his calls after me as I slap the tent flaps back and march through the Rebel camp. Embers from dying fires fly up, singeing my dress, as I stomp through them.

Fireblood whickers when I reach her. I grab the reins from the tree branch.

“Zara,” Devlan shouts. “What the hell are you doing?” He grabs my arm and spins me to face him.

“Back off,” I snap. “I’m going to kill that bastard. I’m going to slit his evil throat and get my father.” I yank out of his hold and grip the reins tighter. Something squeezes my lungs and I double over. The ground blurs, and I gasp at the air.

Devlan pulls the reins, bringing me to him. His arms wrap around me, cradling me to his solid chest. It’s hard to breathe. I can’t breathe. I gulp in air, struggling to fill my lungs, and his scent consumes my senses.

I concentrate on shallow breaths—in, out—until my head lightens, and the sharp pain in my chest dulls to an ache. When my breathing slows, he pulls back and runs his hands along my face, clearing the snarled strands of hair away from my eyes. I look into his face.

“This is why I was taking it slow.” He leaves his palm against my cheek. “I didn’t want to tell you everything at once. It’s too much.”

“No.” My lungs feel blistered. “You told me he was dead. You told me that!”

Hurt registers on his face. His eyes pierce me with a wounded look. “I’m sorry, Zara.” He shakes his head. “I was wrong. There’s no excuse but…I thought it was right at the—”

I yank back and turn away from him.

The cold air burns a path down my chest. The pain awakens my senses, and I can see my path with perfect clarity. “I need to know. I need to know everything right now. I’m going to do the mission.”

I face him and look into his eyes, pulling my shoulders back. I can cry and fall apart later in the privacy of my chamber, but I need to maintain a semblance of strength right now.

His brow furrows. “And I believe you can. But we have plenty of time.” He crosses his arms and takes a step back. “Rest on it. Let things sink in, then we’ll discuss what’s next.”

I nod and force in a breath. The surging energy quickly drains from my body, leaving me weak and limp. “Fine. All right.”

We have plenty of time, as my escape plan has been permanently aborted. I suppose marrying Sebastian would serve best for this mission. I look at the ground. How far will I go to free my father? Who will I be when and if this ends? Right now I could easily slice Hart open with my father’s dagger. I know I could. I clamp my eyes shut, praying for clarity.

Everything is veiled and feels like I’m wrapped in layers upon layers of pain.

Devlan lifts my head, and I stare into his light eyes. “I can’t take you back there in this condition.” He bites his bottom lip. “You have to know that there’s a serum. It’s only speculative, but we believe Hart has an antidote to the Virus.”

My eyes widen, and I can almost grasp what hope feels like—what it used to feel like. I’ve taken care of my father before. I’ll take care of him again, no matter what the challenge. If there’s a way to bring him back healthy, I will find it.

“Listen,” he says. “We’re taking it slow. And we can’t talk about any of this in Court. Only outside the walls, and in the room you saw tonight. Those are the only safe places.”

“I understand,” I say, but my insides scream for action.

“All right. We need to talk to Fallon.”

“Wait,” I say, halting him before he walks off. “How much of this does Sebastian know?” Suddenly I’m not confident I can hold it together around him if he had anything to do with sending my father Outside.

Devlan turns to the side, his strong profile dark against the campfire’s light. “I’m not sure.” He shakes his head once. “I don’t know what all King Hart has entrusted with his son yet. I can’t let on that I know anything around him. Only the top members of the Force have access to this much knowledge.” His forehead creases and he steps toward me, his eyes taking on a severe edge. “This will be part of your mission, Zara. To cautiously, very carefully, discover the level of Sebastian’s involvement.”

I feel a small amount of relief. There’s still hope that Sebastian is ignorant of King Hart’s operation, and that he can be swayed away from his father’s rule.

“But, Zara.” Devlan’s voice drops into a solemn tone. “Sebastian is not to be trusted. As unaware as he appears, he’s Hart’s son. Hart is a tyrant. He raised Sebastian, and until I’m certain of him, he can’t know we have this information.” His eyes bore into me.

“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.