by Claire Luana
“I am?”
“Yes.” She nodded slowly, excitement welling within her. “We’re going to see Hale.”
Chapter 33
“What you’re talking about is treason,” Thom said, his green eyes wide.
“I hate that word,” Wren said as they made their way down the stairs to the lower level of Pike’s house and out the back door. “No one knows this, but Hale and I were captured by Aprican forces a few weeks ago. Hale knows their general. He says he’s a good man. They offered us terms to help them end the siege.”
“End the siege and turn Alesia over to them, you mean,” Thom said.
“They said that Alesia would remain mostly independent. They don’t have the men or the resources to govern the entirety of the Western Reaches. They would set up governors, and we would send them taxes and some goods. The Guilds and the nobles would continue to rule independently.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Thom admitted.
“Lucas said we only have a prayer of a chance of withstanding the siege anyway. If the city is destined to fall, we’re just helping it happen on more favorable terms and saving Callidus and the others in the process.”
Thom ran a hand through his curly locks, nodding slowly.
“All I’m proposing is to go and find out more about their terms. I’m not mad enough to doom the entire city to slaughter to save Callidus.” Even as she said the words, she contemplated whether they were true. A part of her had felt unhinged since Sable’s death, her life tilted by anger and grief. Part of her would do anything to make King Imbris pay for his role in Sable’s death. She wanted him to know what it felt like to be powerless, to have your world crumble around you and all you loved ripped from you. She shoved the thoughts aside, saying, “If the terms are unacceptable, we’ll walk.”
“Will they let us walk?” Thom asked.
Wren chewed her lip. They had escaped before. The Apricans might not be too pleased about that. But now that this crazy plan had cemented in her mind, she knew she’d have to follow through. “We’ll only deal with General Marius. He seemed honorable. I do believe he would let us return.” Her words carried more confidence than she felt. But what other choice did they have? She couldn’t sit by and let them kill Callidus, not when he had saved her. She had already lost Sable; she couldn’t lose him too.
“Okay,” Thom said. “If you think this could work, I trust you. I’m with you.”
Wren sprang at Thom, wrapping her arms around him in a desperate hug. Gratitude flooded her in an overwhelming wave.
“Woah,” he said, but he pulled her in. He smelled of syrup and fresh grass.
“I’m glad you’re with me, Thom.” Her words were muffled into his shirt, and she pulled back, wiping at a tear that had risen unbidden to the corner of her eye.
“This is my Guild,” Thom said softly. “There’s nowhere else I should be.”
They walked down the expanse of green lawn to the little dock that jutted into Pike’s fish pond. The smoke from the fighting at the wall was more visible from this angle; the flicker of flames painted the horizon with an eerie glow. Perhaps the Apricans would breach the wall today, and Wren’s mad plan would be unnecessary. Who knew what would become of them if that happened?
Wren walked around to the end of the dock to look at Hale, trepidation filling her. He looked to have aged a decade. His golden hair was about his shoulders, but it seemed to have dimmed, now straggly and greasy. Days of stubble shadowed his jaw, and bags under his eyes silhouetted their vacant gaze. But he hadn’t soiled himself, and the food and water were gone from the plate, so Wren knew Hale was in there. He just didn’t want to come out.
She sat down cross-legged by him, resting her hand on his knee. She should have come to see him earlier. She had told herself that Hale felt deeply, that nothing but the most poignant vigil would feel worthy of Sable’s passing. But in truth, she had been a coward. The pit of her own grief already threatened to swallow her—she feared she wouldn’t be able to withstand the yawning chasm of Hale’s.
“Hale,” she said. He didn’t look at her.
“You know how sorry I am about Sable. I know how much you loved her. There will never be another woman like her.” A lump grew in Wren’s throat. These words were true, true, true. “I know you could spend your life mourning her. But she wouldn’t want that. We need your help to save Callidus. To save the Guild. It was her life’s work, our Guild. I think she would want you to help.”
“You don’t know what Sable would have wanted,” Hale croaked, his voice rusty from disuse. “You hardly knew her.”
Wren kept herself from wincing at the barb. Perhaps it was true. Sable was a colleague to her, a friend at best. Hale and Sable had been inseparable for years.
“Fine,” Wren said gently. “I want your help. I need your help. To save Callidus. To make the king pay for what he did.”
This got Hale’s attention. He looked at her slowly. His turquoise eyes were clear, as sharp as tacks. “Tell me what you have in mind.”
The city was quiet as they walked towards the municipal court building where Hale and Wren had emerged from the tunnel the last time they had used it. The bells had stopped ringing, though a faint red glow still hung over the southern horizon, reflecting a strange hue into the low-hanging clouds. The color—the dark—they suited Hale fine. They looked like hell. And this was hell, wasn’t it?
They passed the buildings that bore the proud seat of Alesian government: the courthouse, the central square, the council chambers. Hale narrowed his eyes at the trappings of the Imbris crown. For the past two days, he had wandered through a fog of memory and regret, a prisoner trapped in his own sorrows, a condemned man who didn’t want to be free. It wasn’t possible. Sable couldn’t be dead. He couldn’t be living in a world where Sable was dead. He wouldn’t.
When Wren had come to him, he had wanted only to be left alone. But then she’d spoken and Hale had realized Wren had found the one thing that would burn off that fog of grief: vengeance.
They turned into a narrow alley behind the council hall. At the end was a fountain with the ruddy face of the Brewer, his mouth depicted as broad and open. Water should have trickled from his mouth into the shallow marble pool below, but it was empty.
“Did we take a wrong turn?” Thom asked, looking back up the alley. Poor Thom, the innocent fool pulled into all of this. He should have insisted the man stay behind. But everything felt heavy and black, and he didn’t think he cared enough to argue.
Wren shook her head and knelt down before a side door, squinting at the lock, working her picks. The lock clicked softly, and they pushed into the dim recesses of the building, padding like cats through the hallways towards the storeroom that housed the tunnel entrance. When they reached the door, Wren turned the key in the lock and pushed it open.
“Torch.” Wren held out her hand, and Thom handed her one of the torches they had brought. He sparked the flint and the torch caught. They quickly lit the other and stepped into the tunnel.
“You’re going to want to duck,” Hale said flatly to Thom. “Lots of spiderwebs.”
Their passage through the tunnel was silent but for their footsteps, their breathing, and the occasional scuttling of rats’ feet. Wren seemed nervous beside him, the torchlight flickering across the sharp angles of her cheekbones. Her words echoed in against the thick stones: “So we go to General Marius’s tent, and we ask for terms. But if the three of us don’t agree, we don’t make the deal. Right, Hale?”
He grunted his assent. Terms. The terms mattered little to him, so long as King Imbris ended up dead. Better yet if he got to do it himself. His thoughts were sluggish, trying to remember the terms Marius had proposed before. It seemed like a lifetime ago. He felt like a stranger looking at that memory, peering through a greasy windowpane at the bright light beyond. How had he been so carefree? So optimistic?
Wren and Thom exchanged a look, which Hale ignored. Only one thing mattered now. Making
King Hadrian Imbris pay.
The Aprican campfires glowed like fireflies in the distance as they emerged from the tunnel.
Thom took a deep breath, wrapping his cloak around himself. “Here’s to hoping we don’t get speared before they have time to ask questions.”
Hale said nothing, walking ahead without acknowledging whether or not they were following.
“We’ll let him go first,” Hale heard Wren say. “There’s no danger of Hale being mistaken for an Alesian.”
“What do you mean?” Thom asked.
“You’ll see.”
It was as easy to get into the Aprican camp the second time as it had been the first. Hale walked right into the center of a group of tents and demanded to see General Marius. The soldiers, who had scrambled to their feet at the sight of him, looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and led the way. Hale suppressed his disappointment, realizing part of him had been hoping for a fight. Had hoped that the purifying fire of his rage might clear the rest of the fog away.
General Marius sat in his shirtsleeves, cutting into a juicy piece of steak. “Ah,” he said, standing when they entered. “My confectioners have returned.” Hale noticed he still held his steak knife, not quite willing to relinquish it until they had announced their intentions. “Can I offer you a seat?” he said, and Wren and Thom obliged, sitting in two of the other chairs surrounding the table. Hale remained standing, crossing his arms over his chest.
The general finally put his knife down. “I admit, when you two disappeared from camp, I wondered if I would ever see you again. Yet now here you are.” He raised an eyebrow at Hale. “And it seems much has happened since we last spoke.”
Wren spoke first. “Last time we saw you, you asked for our help. Sim Daemastra suggested that the terms of such aid could be…generous to us and our city. We weren’t ready to listen then. We’re ready to listen now.”
“And if these terms are agreeable to you, you would aid us in…subduing the city?”
“We would.”
“What type of aid do you offer us?” Marius asked. “I need to know how valuable your intelligence is before I can negotiate on your behalf with my superiors.”
“We can get you into the city undetected,” Hale said.
General Marius stroked his beard. “How many men?” he asked.
“Enough,” Hale replied.
“This would be very valuable to us indeed. But how do I know you can be believed?”
“We’re here, aren’t we?” Hale retorted, frustration welling in him. This was taking too long. The Apricans should jump on the chance to put King Imbris in the ground. Sable’s spirit would never be able to rest until she was avenged. He would never be able to rest.
The general chuckled. “True, true.”
“If we help you, can you do something for us?” Wren asked.
“What do you want?”
“Help free our guildmaster,” Wren said at the same time as Hale replied, “The king’s head on a pike.”
Wren shot him a cross look, which he ignored.
The general inclined his head towards Hale. “Outlived his welcome, has he? I can give you the king’s head on a pike. And his whole family.”
“His family?” Wren said sharply. “We didn’t say anything about his family.”
“The whole Imbris line must be wiped out,” General Marius said. “If we don’t clean house, there’s too much chance of a succession challenge or a coup. It’s our top priority upon taking the city. The king and his entire family are as good as dead. You have my word.”
Chapter 34
Wren stood up so fast that her chair tumbled down behind her. “No, absolutely not. There has to be another way.”
“Calm down.” General Marius took a sip of his beer. “I’m sure murder doesn’t sit well with a delicate lady like yourself, but this is the way it has to be. Ending the Imbris line prevents more bloodshed down the line.”
“She’s in love with one of them,” Hale said, his voice monotone. He didn’t even look at her.
She glowered at him. What did that matter? Even if she wasn’t, she would never stand by and let Lucas be killed.
It had been a terrible idea to come here. They needed to leave.
General Marius winced at Hale’s words. “I’m sorry for that, Wren. I’m sure he’s a nice fellow. But you can’t stand against the tide of war. We’re coming into Maradis with or without your help. But with your help, we could ensure favorable terms for your Guild.”
“Would you leave the city’s inhabitants alone?” Hale asked flatly. “No pillage, rape, things that the victors have perpetrated on the vanquished throughout history?”
Wren hardly recognized him. Where was the spark, the daring that was Hale? It was like he had been snuffed out.
“We’re not animals, Hale, you know that. You were raised in Se Caelus. The soldiers will follow my orders. And we want a prosperous Maradis, not a wounded and violated one.”
“Would you help us save several Guild members from execution? And guarantee their safety?” Hale asked.
Hale wasn’t listening. Wren exchanged a look of wide-eyed panic with Thom. Her horror was mirrored on his face. After all, she realized, she was not the only one in this tent who cared deeply for an Imbris.
“Hale, no,” Thom protested. “We’re not considering an option where Lucas and Trick are killed.”
“You two aren’t the only ones with a say here,” Hale said.
“What, you would have sacrificed Sable to save Callidus?” Wren snapped and instantly wished she could swallow the words.
“I already did,” he rumbled, pointing at Thom. “For him.”
“But that wasn’t the plan,” Wren said softly, sending a silent apology to Thom, who looked stricken. The three of them lapsed into uneasy silence.
General Marius cleared his throat. “We could save the guildmasters Hale speaks of, and we would want them on our side, assuming their only transgression was crossing King Imbris.”
“It was,” Hale said.
“We’d just need to know where to find them once we got into the city.”
“The king and his family will be at the execution,” Hale said. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow. It would be the opportune time to strike.”
“No!” Wren cried. “Hale, the answer is no. General Marius, I’m sure this is unconventional, but may the three of us have a minute alone?”
“That’s not necessary,” Hale said, ignoring Wren completely. “I’m afraid Wren and Thom won’t be able to get past their sentimentality to see what needs to be done. But I do.”
Wren rounded on Hale. “You aren’t thinking clearly. It’s one thing to sacrifice the king. He’s a bastard and deserves to die. But Lucas? Virgil? Trick? Ella? Their mother? They’re good people. They don’t deserve to die. We can’t tell him what we know. We’ll find another way to help Callidus.”
“What other way, Wren?” Hale asked. “Do you have another idea?”
“No, but I’m not willing to sacrifice Lucas and his family for your revenge.”
“It isn’t up to you,” he said with a roar, and with those words, he advanced on her.
Wren scrambled back, knocking into the table. Thom tried to push between them. “Hale, calm down.”
Hale pushed Thom to the side, knocking him out of the way like an errant tree branch.
Hale was upon her now, looming above her. Panicked thoughts flickered back to the feeling of his hands on her throat, choking the life from her. Sable’s near-death had driven him to the edge last time and Wren wouldn’t be surprised if her death pushed him over.
But to her surprise, he didn’t grab her. Instead, his fingers closed around the chain hanging from her neck, breaking the clasp with a quick jerk. He withdrew the heavy key and turned to Marius.
“Hale, no,” she pleaded, turning to him, grasping his thick bicep. “Please, let’s find another way. There has to be another way.”
Thom chimed in. “Lu
cas and Trick don’t deserve to die just because their father is a royal bastard. Don’t do this, Hale.”
“It’s done,” he said, avoiding their pleading eyes and handing the key to Marius. “This is the key to several secret passageways into the city. Your men can be inside the city in a matter of hours.”
“We agreed,” Wren raged, his betrayal stinging like lemon juice in the wounds of her ragged soul. “Don’t tell him. We agreed if all three of us didn’t like the terms, we’d walk.”
“You agreed,” Hale said. He still wouldn’t meet her eyes. He addressed Marius. “I would like the terms we discussed in writing. Signed. And one more thing. I want the chance to kill King Imbris myself.”
Marius inclined his head. “I think we can arrange that.” He clapped Hale on the shoulder. “Good to have you back with us, brother. Aprica welcomes home one of its own.”
Hale said nothing, his tanned face unreadable.
“Hale!” Wren cried. “It’s not too late. Sable wouldn’t want this—”
Hale’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Don’t speak of what Sable would want. Marius, I think it would be best if Thom and Wren are…kept out of the way until all of this is resolved.”
Wren’s heart seized in her chest. She backed away, her feet moving of their own accord. No. Surely, Hale wouldn’t… Run, the little voice inside her shouted. Run! But it was too late. Wren realized too late the truth of their predicament. She and Thom were deep within a war camp, surrounded by enemies, including the one they hadn’t foreseen: Hale.
Marius nodded, his green eyes gentle. Almost apologetic. “Guards!”
Hale sat in the dark shadow of the tent housing Wren and Thom’s makeshift cell. His knees were pulled up, his head hanging over them. He had seen a few horrors in his life, memories that haunted him, no matter how cheerful a veneer he tried to put on his life. Cal bleeding and dying on the ground next to him. The surprise in Sable’s eyes when the sword had cut into her soft belly. And now—the look of anguish on Wren’s face when he had stood by and watched the Aprican soldier place the irons on her.
