by Claire Luana
Callidus sighed, dabbing his mouth with a napkin. “Yes. What comes next? We need to decide.”
“We find Liam, the captive baker. We rescue or neutralize him. And after that, we kill the emperor,” Killian said.
Trick spluttered into his wine. “Just like that?” He coughed.
“Killian is right,” Ella said, popping a blueberry into her mouth. “With the emperor dead, the Apricans will turn on each other, vying for power to fill the vacuum. If we show any signs of concentrated resistance, they should retreat.”
“Well, obviously it would be great if we could turn all the Aprican troops into gumdrops. But—” Callidus began.
Ansel broke in. “Can ya do that?”
Callidus shook his head crossly. “No, we can’t do that. It was just hyperbole—”
“Too bad,” Bran said to Ansel. “That would really simplify things.”
“Agreed,” Ansel said.
“Let’s stick to the realm of reality, shall we?” Killian said. “We know where Liam is, thanks to our contact on the inside.” Killian winked at her. Hale. Wren hadn’t had a chance to mention it to Lucas. Would he be willing to trust Hale’s intelligence after Hale had killed his brother? Yet another unpleasant truth she’d need to share with him. The list was growing long indeed.
Killian went on. “Assuming we can find Liam, the Gifted bread should run out in...how long?”
“It took about twenty-four hours for the infusion to wear off in Olivia’s case,” Wren said, casting a glance at her friend. Dash and Olivia shared an emerald-green armchair, Olivia seeming perfectly content to sip her hot toddy in the comfort of Dash’s strong arms. Wren shoved down her trepidation about the match. About Dash. They had chosen to trust him. Second-guessing that choice served no purpose.
“Assuming they don’t have any bread stored anywhere,” Thom pointed out.
Everyone frowned at that.
“I’ve got that taken care of,” Killian said. “One of my men learned of the location of their stockpile of infused bread. We could use a diversion when we head in to get Liam. We’ll blow it.”
Wren considered. It could work.
“The annual All Hallows’ Eve parade will take place in three days. Our source inside the palace has told us that the emperor will be participating. It’s the perfect time to get to him,” Killian explained.
“To assassinate him?” Callidus said flatly. “He’ll be surrounded by guards.”
“We have men of our own.” Killian pointed to Ansel and Bran. “Plus, there’s going to be a diversion.”
“What kind of diversion?” Callidus asked.
“Well, that’s what we need to come up with. Another explosion perhaps?”
Silence fell over the table as people contemplated. Wren took a sip of her coffee. She needed a refill; the dregs of her cup were lukewarm. But the thought fled from her mind as an idea flashed into existence. “We tell people the truth about the Gifting,” she said. “About infused food. That’s our diversion.”
“Tell people that magic is real? No one would believe it,” Callidus said.
“Then show them,” Wren said. “We have all those chocolates we made back on the Phoenix. Many of them are infused. It’s traditional to throw candy at the All Hallows’ Eve parade. So we do. We throw infused candy with a written explanation. All over the city.”
“It would be mayhem,” Pike said.
“Exactly,” Wren said. “Just what Killian needs. Lucas.” She turned to him. “You say you want to turn the government over to the people. But they can’t rule if they don’t have all the information. The people need to know about this if they are going to have any chance of actually ruling fairly, not just becoming another dictatorship.”
“It would be dangerous for the Gifted,” Callidus said.
“It’s already dangerous for us,” Thom said. “I agree with Wren. It’s time to come out of the shadows. It’s time we tell the truth.”
Wren looked around the room, at the people who had become her allies, her friends. She could hardly think of a stranger amalgamation of personalities. But here they were. Bound together in a singular goal.
Callidus sighed and nodded. “The Beekeeper help us.”
Thom nodded, taking Trick’s hand in his with a questioning look.
Olivia nodded too, taking a deep breath. “Kasper died because of this secret. Let’s make sure it never happens again.”
Pike shrugged his shoulders. “It’ll mean big business for the Guilds. We’ll finally be able to sell our infusions. I’m in.”
Ansel crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll do whatever, long as ya pay me.”
“Same,” same Bran.
So it was up to Ella, Trick, and Lucas. The Imbris children looked at each other.
“I agree,” Trick said. “If we’re going to do things a different way, let’s do it a different way.” He patted Thom’s hand.
Lucas nodded.
Ella rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine.”
“So we’re agreed then,” Killian said. “Come All Hallows’ Eve, the secret of the Gifting will be a secret no more.”
Chapter 36
The next hours were a whirlwind of planning and preparation. As it turned out, assassinating an emperor and outing the best-kept secret in Alesia took a bit of doing. Ansel and Bran, the only members of their little group who weren’t wanted by the crown, would spend the next few days shuttling information and supplies between the safehouse and the ships, where Griff and her crew, as well as Ansel’s and Pike’s men, waited patiently. They would retrieve the crates of infused chocolates, and somehow, through chocolate-infused luck and prayer, get them through a port inspection.
Lucas had a contact who worked at the Maradis Morning, the city’s newspaper. Lucas had been fairly certain that the man wouldn’t be infected by the emperor’s infused breads, as the man was allergic to gluten. Lucas thought he could arrange for the newspaper offices to be left ajar, giving them access to the paper’s printing presses to make enough fliers to rain from the sky, trumpeting on high the truth—that in Alesia, magic was real.
It was nearly dawn when they retired, Violena finding them each rooms. Wren and Lucas trudged up the stairs to their chamber, eyelids drooping.
Once inside, Lucas tilted over onto the bed, collapsing into its voluptuous embrace. He groaned in delight. “Yes,” he said. “A thousand times yes.”
“Compared to my berth on the Phoenix,” Wren said, settling onto the bed next to him and closing her eyes, “this is heaven.”
“Mmm,” Lucas agreed.
Wren burrowed into his side, nestling herself in the crook of his arm, resting her head on his shoulder. Sleep tugged at her.
“Wren,” Lucas murmured.
“Yep?” she replied, her eyes still closed.
“Do you still have my key?”
Suddenly, Wren was wide awake. Her eyes flew open as her stomach sank like a stone. “No,” she whispered.
“What happened to it?” The words were drowsy.
Wren squeezed her eyes shut. She was overcome with the urge to lie. To keep this perfect moment, to hold it tight. True, they were in a fight for their lives against a powerful enemy who wanted them dead. But here, in this house, in Lucas’s arms...everything was right. And if she told him, she might never feel this again. She exhaled as tears pricked her eyes. She couldn’t keep lying. Not forever. “The Apricans took it.”
“How?” It seemed to wake him up. He cocked his head, looking at her.
She drank him in with her eyes—the relaxed stretch of his lean body next to hers, his tousled salt-and-pepper hair, his slate-gray eyes. Memorizing the moment. “There’s something I need to tell you,” Wren said, pushing herself up on her elbow.
“What?”
“Remember when Hale and I went to Dash Island, and you were so mad because we could have been captured?”
“How could I forget?” Lucas said. “I could have throttled that blond asshole for
taking you.”
“Well...” She swallowed, feeling Lucas slip from her fingers. “We were. Captured, that is.” Her words tumbled one over the other as she explained what had happened—General Marius and Sim Daemastra, escaping the Aprican camp through the tunnel—Callidus’s sentencing after Sable had died, her helplessness and desperation to stop it. Going into the tunnel with Hale. She left Thom out of it. She didn’t want to ruin his and Trick’s relationship too. It was Thom’s choice to make, whether to be honest or not. Faster and faster, the words fell, Marius’s ultimatum, Hale’s betrayal. Her escape from captivity and the harrowing trip back into the city under the noses of their invaders.
When it was all done, she looked up at him, at the stony mask that had transformed his features. The hard set of his jaw, his muscles working furiously.
“Say something,” Wren pleaded. “Anything.”
“My mother,” he said, so quietly she almost missed the words. “Virgil...”
“I know.” Guilt twisted her heart, wringing it out until it felt empty. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gone, Evander wouldn’t have gotten the key. Wouldn’t have known about the passageways and been able to sneak in. Lucas, I’m so sorry.” She grasped his hand, pressing it between hers. Tears were falling now, salty and bitter. “You have to know how sorry I am. I was just trying to help. I thought... I don’t know what I thought.”
“You thought you’d sell my family out to our enemies?” Lucas pulled his hand from her grip, recoiling away from her, off the bed, pressing himself against the far wall. As if he couldn’t get enough space between them. “You just thought you’d, what...lie to me? Kiss me and lay with me like everything was all right—all the while knowing my family is dead because of you?” He spun around, his hands covering his mouth, his face, running through his hair.
“There just wasn’t...the right moment.” She sobbed, knowing it was a weak excuse. She had been selfishly putting off this conversation. “I was worried...I didn’t want to hurt you. To ruin things between us.”
“Well, you have a funny way of showing it.” He whirled on her, his fists clenched at his side. “After all we’ve been through, you should know that the one thing I can’t stand for is more lies from you! If you’d told me straight up...I don’t know. Maybe...I don’t know. I might have been able to move past it. But lie to me...” He shook his head. “The truth. That’s all I ever asked for from you, Wren. And that’s what you seem perpetually incapable of giving me.” He stormed past her and yanked the door open before slamming it shut behind him.
A picture fell off the wall from the force of the blow—its glass shattering.
A sob escaped Wren’s mouth and she slapped a hand over her lips, trying to hold it in. She shook her head in disbelief, broken. The truth—Lucas had said he wanted the truth. Well, now he had it. And it seemed it had cost her everything.
Chapter 37
Olivia didn’t sleep well that night. Her stomach flipped with nervousness when Dash opened the door to their assigned quarters to reveal a large four-poster bed. Would Dash expect...? Her thoughts galloped away from her. Yes, Dash set her blood burning in her veins, and she wanted to be with him fully...at some point...but in a stranger’s house, with people all around...?
Dash wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her cheek. “I’ll take the floor,” he said.
Relief flooded her that she wouldn’t have to explain her troubled thoughts to him. “There’s no need,” she said, turning in his arms and rising on her tiptoes to meet his lips in a kiss. “You’ve been sleeping in a cell for the past week. It’s plenty big for both of us to sleep.”
“If you’re sure,” he murmured into her hair.
“Just sleep,” shd said.
But lying beside him, she was hyperaware of his presence. The large shape of him stretched out beside her in the dark, the rhythmic rise and fall of his broad chest, the cut of his cheekbones. She wanted to run her hands over his face, through his hair, to marvel at his realness. But she dared not wake him.
Since she’d been a girl, she’d longed to find a man like Dash. Handsome, gallant, brave, and kind. Yet now that she had him, she couldn’t deny an uneasiness in her stomach. She had sworn to Wren that Dash was trustworthy. The whole reason that he was here was because of her—because she had vouched for him.
But what if she was wrong? Olivia hadn’t even seen her own grandaunt’s treachery. What if Dash was fooling her too? He was an Aprican legionnaire. And tomorrow, they were sending him back into the palace—back amongst his fellow men. He was the one who had best knowledge of the layout of the palace and location of the Aprican troops. But what if he had been fooling her? What if it was all a lie? What if the only goodbye Olivia got was a force of Aprican legionnaires knocking down the townhouse door?
She squeezed her eyes closed against the horrors her imagination readily supplied. She tried to focus on the things that were real. The hours they’d talked in the dim cabin before Dash had ever known he might be released. The sweetness of his kiss, of the way she caught him gazing at her, like he wasn’t quite sure she was his. The same way she found herself looking at him.
She blew out a shaky breath. Dash was an honest man. The son of a blueberry farmer. They could trust him. She could trust him. She repeated the mantra to herself—a whispered prayer in the dark. One that desperately needed to come true.
The night sky hung as black as Lucas’s mood. Lucas had done his best to avoid Wren for most of the day, but the townhouse was flaming small. It seemed everywhere he turned she was there, her wide eyes brimming with tears and silent apologies. He couldn’t face her. He just couldn’t. He could hardly make out the layered depths of what he was feeling—but one emotion rang out loud and clear within him: Fury. He was furious with her for lying to him. Again. He couldn’t be anywhere near her. They had dangerous work to do, and he needed his head on straight. He’d process everything after they took back Maradis. If they weren’t dead.
The tension in the carriage was thick enough to choke on. The Maradis Morning offices were in the Industrial Quarter, all the way to the south of town. It was too far to walk, too far to go in the infernal sewer system. So they were risking a carriage, knowing that there was a chance that they could be stopped. And if that happened, it would all be over.
The monstrous machines of the presses required many hands to work, so those of them who weren’t trying to rescue Liam, the baker, had come with him. Callidus, Olivia, and one of Ansel’s mercenaries rode with him; Trick, Thom, Ella, and another mercenary in the carriage behind. Wren, Ansel, Pike, and Dash were headed into the palace, and Ansel’s second-in-command, Bran, had headed back to the ship that morning to retrieve the last of the infused chocolates and fill the rest of their group in on what was going on.
Callidus was looking at him from across the carriage with a contemplative look.
“What?” Lucas snapped. He didn’t want to be analyzed right now.
“Strange vibe in the townhouse today. If I’m not mistaken, you and Wren didn’t say two words to each other. Everything all right?”
Lucas’s hands tightened into fists at his side. “No, everything’s not all right.”
“Would it help to discuss it?” Callidus asked stiffly. The man didn’t have much of a bedside manner, did he?
“Nope.” Lucas shook his head, looking at the carriage curtains, wishing he could open them so he had something to look at.
The carriage was quiet for a moment. Then Olivia spoke. “Whatever it is, I’m sure you can work through it. Wren loves you.”
“Love has never been our problem,” Lucas said through gritted teeth. Why had he ended up in a carriage with two of Wren’s fans?
“That girl—” Callidus began.
“Woman,” Olivia said, interrupting. “She’s a woman.”
Callidus rolled his eyes. “That woman saved your life twice in the last month. She would go through fire and brimstone for you. She faced the might of a king a
nd an empire. For you. Not often you find a girl—woman—like that.”
Lucas pursed his lips. He knew Wren was brave and loyal. He’d never doubted that. But she was reckless, too. With people’s lives. With the truth. It had gotten his family killed. It had gotten them all into this predicament.
Callidus spoke carefully. “If you’re angry about what I think you’re angry about...consider that it’s like being angry at someone for leaving the back door open before a tsunami hits. Perhaps it was easier for the water to get in, but it was going to get in all the same.”
Lucas shook his head. “But maybe the family would have had more time to get to safety if the door hadn’t been open.”
“Or maybe they all would have stayed snug in their beds without that warning, and they all would have been lost.”
Lucas met Callidus’s icy-blue gaze. There was compassion there, but he didn’t want compassion right now. He wanted anger. He wanted to wrap it around him like a cloak, to cover himself with it until nothing else could get through. Sure, maybe he’d be dead too if Wren hadn’t done what she had. But maybe they’d all be alive. Virgil. Mother.
“It’s your life,” said Callidus. “It’s your decision. But I’ll say one last thing.”
“Please, enlighten me,” Lucas said dryly.
“Don’t wait too long to figure out how you feel. It’s plain to see that there’s someone else vying for the position of Wren’s better half, and he’s not hesitating,” Callidus said.
Lucas’s mood sank even lower at the mention of the redheaded mercenary.
“He’s talking about Ansel—” Olivia said.
“I know he’s taking about Ansel,” Lucas snapped. “He can’t keep his flaming hands off her.” Lucas’s eyes flicked to Ansel’s mercenary, a tall bearded man with the coloring of a Magnish. The man had the wherewithal to stare at the curtains, leaving them to their conversation.
