Rebel Spring

by Morgan Rhodes

  Still, Magnus had to admit the girl was an excellent actress. With his lips pressed to hers, he could have sworn he tasted warm honey rather than cold venom in her response. And he also had to admit, if only to himself, that such unexpected sweetness had coaxed a much longer kiss than he’d originally planned.

  The princess was dangerous yet could appear so very innocent to one who didn’t know the truth—much like a spider and her shimmering web. Perhaps Magnus would do best to look at Aron as a hapless fly who’d once found his way into that trap through no fault of his own.

  At that moment, a group of guards approached with a prisoner, his hands bound behind his back. The boy was no more than eighteen, his brown hair dark and unruly, his skin tanned from the sun, his eyes flashing with anger.

  “Who is this?” Magnus asked, his gaze sweeping the fierce-looking boy.

  The lead guard shoved the prisoner forward. “Part of a group of rebels attempting to steal weapons from us.”

  “A group of rebels? And yet you captured only one.”

  “Apologies, your highness. But, yes.”

  “How many were there?” Aron asked.

  The guard had begun to sweat. “Three, my liege.”

  “How many did you kill?”

  A muscle in the guard’s cheek twitched. “The rebels are vicious, Lord Aron. They’re like wild animals, and—”

  “Perhaps you did not hear my question correctly,” Aron snapped. “How many rebels did you kill of the three?”

  The guard blinked. “I’m afraid none today, my liege.”

  Aron glared at him with disgust. “Step back. Now.”

  The guard retreated.

  What a complete jackass Aron was, spouting threat and intimidation as if he had the strength of will to back it up.

  “Yes, your grace?” Aron asked evenly, noticing he’d gained the prince’s full attention.

  “May I question the prisoner, or would you like to have the honor?” It was an honest question, if offered on a slightly menacing level.

  Aron gestured with his hand. “No, please. You go right ahead.”

  How shocking. It was the correct answer. “Much gratitude, Lord Aron.”

  Magnus indicated that the guards should bring the prisoner further into camp by the fire. There the rebel stood with his hands bound, but his shoulders were squared as he met Magnus’s gaze directly, without flinching.

  “Welcome.” Magnus began with a smile, one that would mirror his father’s ease, if not the king’s famous charm. “I am Magnus Lukas Damora, crown prince and heir to the throne of Mytica.”

  “I know who you are,” the boy said with distaste.

  “Good. That will make things much simpler. Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

  The boy’s lips thinned, his eyes stony.

  Magnus nodded to a guard, who backhanded the rebel. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, but his gaze only grew more defiant.

  “Whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?” Magnus asked again. “This can go easy or it can go hard. The choice is yours. Answer my questions and I am capable of benevolence.”

  The boy laughed at this, spitting out the blood that filled his mouth. “Prince Magnus benevolent? This I find hard to believe.”

  Magnus’s smile thinned. “Your name?”

  “Brion Radenos.”

  “Very good, Brion.” Magnus leveled his gaze at the boy’s. “Now tell me, where is the rebel leader, Jonas Agallon?”

  Brion cocked his head. “Jonas Agallon? Never heard of him before.”

  This boy tried his patience. “You lie. Tell me where he is.”

  Brion laughed at this. “Why would I?”

  Magnus regarded him with distaste. “Jonas Agallon crept onto palace grounds and stole the life of Queen Althea. There is proof of this. He will pay for this with his own life.”

  Brion’s brows drew together. “I’ve seen the posted reward for his capture; I’ve heard the rumors. But you’re wrong. I don’t care what proof you think you have, he had nothing to do with that murder.”

  The anger swiftly rising inside Magnus literally made him tremble. The nearby guards glanced at each other uneasily. “For a moment, I thought you were intelligent. But you’re just a fool whose mouth is bigger than his brain.”

  This observation received a cold glare. “Jonas didn’t kill the queen.”

  More rage lit beneath Magnus’s skin. He reached out and grasped the boy’s throat. “I’ll ask one more time. Your helpful response will net you a reward and freedom rather than pain. Where is Jonas?”

  “Kiss my arse.” The boy’s gaze flashed. “You think you’re so strong, so powerful. You’re not. You’re weakened by your blindness—just like your father. His greed will be his undoing. The people in Auranos will not be fooled forever by him. And they will rise up in great numbers along with Paelsians to crush the both of you. Maybe we can even convince the Limerians to join in as one great army against all who wish to oppress us.”

  Magnus tightened his grip, causing the boy’s face to turn red. Brion spat, and the saliva caught Magnus in the eye. He released the boy and wiped it away with disgust.

  “I see.” His heart drummed fast and loud in his chest. “You’ve chosen the hard way. Fine. I’ll get my answers whether it’s now or whether it’s back in the dungeon on the rack. Perhaps it will give me the chance to capture Jonas if he attempts to save you.”

  “He damn well better not even try.”

  “Time will tell.” Magnus turned away, trying very hard to maintain his mask and not show how much his mounting frustrations weakened him.

  “This piece of rebel scum will tell you nothing here or anywhere else,” Aron growled. He stood only a couple paces away, watching their exchange with a tight look on his pale face. “We don’t have time to take him back to the dungeon. We move on to the road tomorrow and we can’t spare any guards.”

  “This is more important, Lord Aron.”

  “I disagree, your highness. Rebels are best made an example of, not coddled and questioned.”

  “Did it sound like I was coddling him?” Magnus gritted his teeth and glanced away.

  “This is not how King Gaius would deal with this situation.”

  The boy was so very annoying, Magnus could barely form words to respond. “Oh, no? And, pray tell, Lord Aron, how would the king deal with this situation?”

  “Like this.” Aron had drawn out his sword and was holding it with both hands.

  Magnus’s chest tightened in sudden alarm. “Aron, don’t—”

  But he paid Magnus no attention. Without another word or another threat, and with his eyes glittering with excitement, Aron drove his sword through Brion’s heart.

  Brion’s eyes went wide and he gasped, a sickly, bubbling sound. Blood spilled over his bottom lip as he collapsed to the ground and let out a last hiss of breath.

  Magnus stared down at the dead boy with shock.

  “The king personally executed a troublemaker at the Temple of Cleiona during the opening ceremonies of the Imperial Road. You must remember that as well as I do.” Aron wiped the bloody blade on a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. “I know he wouldn’t want this one to be handled any differently by his kingsliege. I will tell your father that you were instrumental in this rebel’s immediate execution. I promise not to take full credit for it.”

  Magnus grabbed Aron by the front of his shirt and shoved him backward into the fire. The boy let out a wheezing shriek and scrambled to get up, batting at the embers that had begun to set his clothes ablaze.

  Magnus was incensed. “He was my chance to find Jonas, you drunken imbecile!”

  Aron sputtered, his cheeks now flushed. “He would have told you nothing more than his name! Sparing his life only made you look weak in front of the other men. You should b
e thanking me!”

  Magnus leaned closer so he could snarl into Aron’s ear. “Pray to your goddess that we find the rebel leader very soon, or my disappointment will be leveled upon you and you alone. Do you understand me, you little shit?”

  Aron’s eyes narrowed into slits as Magnus released him—both fear and hate now playing within. “I understand, your highness.”

  CHAPTER 28

  JONAS

  AURANOS

  Brion crumpled to the ground.

  Jonas couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, as he watched from the tree line, stunned. It was only a dream. It had to be. This was a nightmare he would wake from at any moment.

  Then his vision turned red with hate, red with rage. He surged forward, ready to kill Aron with his bare hands—to tear him apart until he was a pile of bloody meat.

  But before he could clear the protection of the thick trees, Lysandra threw her arms around him to stop him. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she grabbed hold of his face to force him to look at her rather than the sight of his fallen best friend.

  “Jonas, no! It’s too late,” she whispered harshly to him. “Brion’s dead! If you go out there they’ll kill you too!”

  It had been only moments. The boy he’d known since both nursed at their mothers’ breasts lay on the ground thirty paces away. Blood seeped from his chest wound to soak into the earth. Brion stared off toward the forest as if his unseeing eyes searched for Jonas.

  It was like Tomas’s death all over again—someone he loved dearly had been ripped away from him without warning by Aron Lagaris.

  “Let me go!” A raw cry of grief rose in his throat and again he tried to move away from Lysandra. A stinging slap drew his attention and he stared into her furious gaze.

  “They will kill you if you go out there,” she growled.

  “This is my fault. Again. It’s my fault. It was my decision for us to try to steal the guards’ weapons. When they saw us—” His voice broke and he threw his arms over his face as though by blocking out the forest they could block out what had happened. “Brion was protecting me so I could get away.”

  “He was protecting both of us.” Tears poured down her face. “This is not your fault. We needed the weapons. We could never have predicted. . . .”

  “I need to kill Aron Lagaris. I need to have vengeance.” He drew in a shaky breath, keeping his attention on Lysandra’s tear-streaked face. She hadn’t let go of him yet. She was an anchor for him—a weight. If she wasn’t here, he’d already be out there fighting. Bleeding. Dying. He’d expected hatred and fire from this girl for this. Instead, she pulled him into a tight embrace as they shared their grief.

  “You will have vengeance,” she assured him. “As will I. But not here. Not now.”

  Jonas thought he might retch. He kept seeing Brion crumpling to the ground. Lysandra was still talking. He clung to her words like a lifeline.

  “We knew the prince would be coming in this direction—it was Brion’s idea to track their progress, Jonas. You can’t blame yourself! Look at me.” She grabbed his face again, forcing him to meet her tear-filled eyes. “Thanks to Nerissa we know where they’re going next—and why. Now is the time to act, once and for all. This is it, you must realize that. Don’t you?”

  He tried to think. He tried to see past his rage and his grief.

  A plan began to formulate—blurry at first, but steadily growing clearer and stronger.

  This is it, Lysandra had said.

  She was right.

  Brion’s death would not be in vain—Jonas would not let it be. It would mark the moment Jonas could finally see with the clearest vision of his entire life.

  The Blood Road was the key to the king’s downfall.

  And it was time for the rebels to end this.

  • • •

  By the time they returned to their band’s current campsite, night had closed in all around them, and the Wildlands were dark and filled with eerie noises that hinted at hungry things waiting to reach out and devour anyone who crossed their paths.

  Jonas now felt like one of those beasts, like he could kill anything or anyone that got in his way.

  “Now what do we do?” Tarus asked from the shadows, surrounded by the others. Lysandra had told them of Brion’s death. Tarus’s voice trembled. “They’re killing us off one by one.”

  “All this time,” Jonas began, finding what strength he had left to speak loud enough for all to hear, “I’ve been searching for a way to cripple the king. To take back the power stolen from Paelsia from the moment the chief was murdered. I admit that at times I feared this task couldn’t be completed. After the disaster and defeat at the Temple of Cleiona I doubted. Doubted myself, doubted everything. For a moment, I allowed the King of Blood to defeat me.

  “He has the numbers. He has the guards and soldiers. He has the weapons. And he has fooled the Auranians so much that the majority of them stand by like cattle foolishly waiting for slaughter. And now, from the reports I’ve received, the king has sequestered himself within the City of Gold, letting others fight his battles, untouchable and safe from any harm.”

  “Then what good does any of this do us? How can we hurt him?” another boy demanded.

  “We’ve been searching for a weakness,” Jonas said, “something that could hurt the king. Something we could use against him, to draw him out. Once, I believed that might be Princess Cleiona. That plan didn’t work out quite the way I’d hoped. It proved one thing to me—we need someone who holds greater importance to the king.”

  “Who?” Tarus asked, his eyes wide.

  “Tomorrow at dawn, Prince Magnus, Lord Aron, and a large group of guards are set to head for the Forbidden Mountains. We have information that they are to inspect the road camp there—a location we were not aware of until very recently.”

  “Who told you about this?” Phineas asked.

  “A reliable source,” Lysandra replied. She and Jonas shared a tense look. This was information they had received only days before, information that had led to them spying on the prince’s camp in the first place. Former seamstress Nerissa had taken on the mantel of rebel spy with great enthusiasm. Palace guards positioned close to the king enjoyed unburdening their souls after a hard day at work in the arms of a pretty and very friendly girl. Lysandra had not approved of Nerissa’s methods of obtaining information, but she couldn’t very well argue with her success—not when it had finally given them the key to what would be their ultimate victory.

  “So we are to kidnap Prince Magnus,” a rebel guessed.

  “Yes.” Jonas’s eyes narrowed. “But he’s not our only target. There is someone else at the camp who, we believe, means as much to the greedy king as his own blood. A man named Xanthus, who holds such a high level of secrecy, according to my source, that it intrigues me. He is the head engineer for the entire road and I have been assured that he is essential to the operation. He has the plans, he makes the decisions. Not one piece of stone is laid without his approval. Any new instructions or changes are sent directly from him, with an official seal, to the other camps.”

  “How can one man have that much power?” Phineas asked.

  “I don’t know, and frankly, I don’t care,” Jonas replied. His words sounded heedless but his plan was anything but. “All I know is without Xanthus in place, the road will cease construction. And the king is invested in this road, both with gold and with time. He wants it. It matters greatly to him. Taking both Xanthus and Prince Magnus and holding them hostage will net us what we want—the king himself. It will draw him out of his safe little golden palace and right into our grasp.”

  “It’s simple.” Lysandra took over. “We will follow Prince Magnus and his group to the road. We will then wait until they rest, until they are lulled into a false sense of security, and we will attack just before dawn breaks. We will locate both Xanthus and t
he prince and take them both, killing anyone who gets in our way. This is it. This is our chance to finally make a difference and save our people from the king’s tyranny.”

  “But we need every one of you to help us,” Jonas said. “Everyone.”

  “It’ll still be a blood bath,” another rebel standing next to Phineas spoke up, uncertain. “You think we’re going to lay down our lives for this? Based on information from your ‘reliable source’?”

  “Yes!” Lysandra spun to trap the rebel in her fiery gaze. “We will lay down our lives if that’s what it takes! I watched Brion die today and to the very end he was brave and strong. We owe it to him. I can only hope to be half as brave as he was. I’m willing to die if it means I can show the King of Blood that I am not now nor will I ever be one of his slaves!”

  “We shall cut King Gaius where he’s sure to bleed buckets,” Jonas said firmly, “and we will have our victory. Come on. Who is with me? Who is with Lysandra?”

  One by one, the gathered rebels stepped forward, voices growing ever louder in enthusiasm and strength.

  “I am!”

  “And I!”

  “Yes! Enough weakness, we’ll show the King of Blood our strength once and for all!”

  “Once and for all!”

  CHAPTER 29

  LUCIA

  AURANOS

  Magic burned beneath Lucia’s skin, begging to be released. It felt as trapped as she did in this strange palace with its brightly lit hallways and glittering, golden floors, different from the dark and cool Limerian castle in so many ways. She missed her real home more than she would ever have thought possible.

  The bunny was not helping matters at all.

  “You’ve grown so quickly, Hana.” She held up the bundle of soft fur to look into the rabbit’s sweet face. Its heart beat quickly against her touch and its nose twitched. This was one of the few things that could make her smile.

  Finally, Lucia put Hana down into her small pen in the corner of her chambers and went to the balcony, her gaze moving out across the green fields and hills that surrounded the City of Gold beyond the glittering walls.