Twenty minutes into our trek, my lungs burn with exertion. The trees pass in a dizzying blur, and I push onward, even though my body screams to stop. I pin my gaze on Rayce’s broad shoulders, forcing myself to keep moving through the exhaustion.
A few minutes more, and the road begins to slant upward. Unable to pick my footing well any longer, I stumble but keep moving, Marin’s face pushing me forward. Arlo holds up a palm to halt as my vision blurs, and the entire troop stops a few feet from the top of the hill.
Water pouches unhook almost in unison as everyone works to catch their breath.
An eerie quiet clings over us like a veil. Rayce motions for me to follow him, and we head to the front of the group.
Arlo tips his head forward, and we crest the hill, Dongsu spreading out beneath us like a wagon wheel. A break in the rooftops in the middle of town must be some sort of square serving as the hub, and the dusty roads and alleys snaking out from there make the spokes. Houses and shops fill the spaces between the streets. The whole town would only take up half of the market district in Delmar. The forest stops about fifty feet from the town, like some invisible barrier bars it from growing any farther.
“Notice anything off?” Rayce whispers, his voice piercing after such a long stretch of silence.
“No people,” Arlo says, finishing a gulp of water. “Not good.”
I put my hand to my forehead, shielding my eyes from the sun, and look for any sign of life. All I see is a tiny shed at the edge of town. It looks like it sprouted up from the ground, fully formed and older than the dirt it came out of. The hands that built it are nowhere in sight.
“We’re going to save her, Arlo,” Rayce says, his voice hard with determination.
Arlo rubs his face, covering whatever worry his mouth might betray.
“We have to,” I say.
Rayce flashes me a grim smile and nods.
The lump in my gut tightens, and I curl my hands into fists, letting my nails bite into the exposed flesh of my palms.
Rayce holds up his pointer and middle fingers pressed together and swirls them around in a tight circle. The troop responds immediately, marching forward to meet us at the top of the hill. We start our descent at a slow pace. Every stunner remains trained ahead, though there’s no sign of movement.
I wipe my clammy palms on the scratchy fabric of my pants as we near the bottom of the hill. The dirt becomes soft like sugar grains, and our feet sink, slowing us to a crawl. Almost like Lin, the earth goddess, is warning us not to go any farther.
Since there are no trees we can use for cover, Rayce opts to cut a direct path across the knee-length yellow grass. I fall in line right behind him, mimicking the way he scans left to right as we move forward. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for, so I keep scanning the shed and the areas around it for movement. My instincts scream to run, but I force every footstep steady. Sweat slicks my palm, making it hard to keep a secure grip on my sword.
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. Are we walking into a trap? My skin burns with the feeling of eyes on it, even though I’m not sure anyone is watching. We approach the shed at a snail’s pace. Now that I’m closer, the white paint looks more like patches of snow, and the waterlogged roof sags from years of disuse. The shed is one strong breeze away from collapsing. Still, nothing stirs in the town just ahead. The deafening quiet of the empty streets sends a chill down my spine. No town would be completely dead during the middle of the day.
We step underneath the sunken roof of the shed, and the temperature drops. Cobwebs hang like streamers from the ceiling, and dust particles dance across sunbeams peeking in from the cracks in the roof. From where I stand, I have a clear view into town, but I still don’t spot a single soul.
Rayce holds up a palm to pause the troop inside the shed. Though none of them speak, fear echoes out of each pair of eyes. No one likes what we’ve walked into. The sword strapped to my side feels woefully useless.
I rub my hand across my forehead and am surprised at how sweaty I am, when all I really feel is cool, sharp dread.
“What’s going on?” Rayce whispers to Arlo. “We had no reports of this.”
I study Rayce’s face. All traces of calm have left him, his mouth clenched in a tight line.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Arlo says.
“I’m not sure whether we should stay here or infiltrate the town,” Rayce says, scratching his chin.
“I’m not even sure there is anything here to infiltrate,” Arlo adds. “Or anyone.”
A look passes between the two men, and it frightens me almost as much as the abandoned town. Even when we had a pack of Delmarion soldiers pursuing us, they never seemed at a loss for what to do.
I turn back to the town and take in the eerie scene—the abandoned cobblestone roads, doors hanging open on their hinges, chairs flipped over, and the empty tan-stone houses. My gaze lingers on the building as an idea sprouts in my mind.
“What if you’re looking at it from the wrong vantage point?” I suggest.
Both pairs of worried eyes turn toward me. Arlo blinks like he forgot I was here.
“What do you mean?” Rayce asks.
“Can you spot me?” I say, ignoring his question. “I want to go into the edge of town.”
“I’m not sure that’s wise.”
“Cooperation, Rayce,” I say, then plow forward. If ever there were a time to prove myself, it’s now.
Their footsteps fall in line behind me as I run for the nearest building. Rayce hurries up alongside me, and Arlo appears at my other side, a stunner aimed in either hand.
Up close, the large stones of the building are even better for climbing than I’d originally guessed. I reach up, searching every cranny until my hand finds a little nook between a pair of stones. I pull myself, the toe of my boot finding purchase a few feet off the ground.
“Oh, Rose,” Rayce says, doubt coloring his voice. “That’s going to take too long.”
“Is it?” I counter, a smile touching my lips.
Arlo moves to the corner of the building and peers out into the empty street, stunners pointed forward.
My limbs awaken with the familiar movement of climbing, and my hands begin to pick out crevices automatically, without needing to see them first. I scale the wall in less than a minute, pulling myself onto the flat-topped roof, and duck down. The stone surface is empty, like all the others in the vicinity.
“Okay, okay,” Rayce says from below, trying to keep his voice down to a loud whisper. “Do you see anything?”
I crawl toward the opposite edge of the roof and peek over it. The houses near me still have robes dangling on clotheslines, red doors hanging open on hinges, and the wind rocks unlit parchment lanterns, but there’s no sign of the people that should be tending to them. Movement off to the right catches my eye, and my gaze snaps to it, my heart hammering in my ears.
A light blue flag with the imperial crest waves in the light breeze, but there’s no motion underneath it. I throw a curse its way and walk back to the edge where I left Rayce and Arlo.
“No, I don’t see anyone,” I say. “I’m going into the town.”
Rayce frowns, something unreadable passing across his face. “I don’t think this is such a good—”
“Have a little faith in me,” I say. “I used to do stunts like this almost every day in the Garden. If something is going on in this town, I can find out easily, without you having to risk any of your people. I want to help find Marin and the others.”
Rayce and Arlo exchange a glance. The silence of the town feels heavier as I wait for him to decide. Arlo nods, jaw clenched, but Rayce doesn’t budge. A tiny part of me wonders if he might be worried something is going to happen to me, not just the mission, but I squash that thought before it can grow.
“Okay,” he says, like it hurts him. “Go in just a little farther. But at the first sign of trouble, report back. Do not engage by yourself, understand?”
&
nbsp; “Yeah, I understand.”
He pulls himself up on the wall. We’re still about twenty feet apart, but his face is much closer than it was a moment ago, and I can see the urgency radiating out of his dark eyes.
“Promise me,” he says, his hand reaching out for another stone that will support his weight but not finding one.
“I promise,” I say. “I won’t do anything stupid.”
He clenches his jaw and nods. “Okay, report as soon as you can.”
I linger on the image of Rayce’s outstretched arm for a second, wishing he was reaching for me instead of a hold, and then I dig my feet into the rooftop and run.
The edge comes for me fast, and I instinctively grab for my fabric rope. My stomach drops when I grasp only air, and I leap across the first roof onto the next one without my safety net.
A smile finds its way onto my mouth as I run for the next roof, picking my way into the town. This is the movement my bones know, the short bursts of sprinting followed by cool air caressing my skin as height looms under my boots. Up here, I am fully free.
My mind turns to Marin, spurring my feet faster. Is she safe? Even though Rayce pushed us at a grueling pace, it already feels like so much time has passed. In the Garden, that would surely mean death.
But I’m not in the Garden. She’s not in the Garden. That fact keeps my tiny seed of hope alive.
I check the street below me, but there’s still no sign of life. I run for the next roof and leap through the air. As I’m coming down, I see an opening in the middle of town and what looks like a sea of black.
I land hard on the roof, my feet shuttering with the impact. Boots might be good for walking, but they aren’t adept at flying.
The building I’m standing atop is twice as large as the others and has a thin wall jutting up to about my thigh. I race to the opposite ledge and pull myself up onto it, balancing my weight.
At this height, I can see them: all the missing people gathered in some sort of square in the very middle of town. Excitement shoots through me before I realize the cloud of silence that’s followed us from the road spreads to the crowd of men, women, and children gathered. What are they doing?
My feet lock up as I move to jump onto the next roof to get a closer look.
Rayce’s words repeat in my head. Do not engage by yourself.
I spin around on my boot and jump back down onto the roof.
If I get closer, I can potentially gather more information and improve our chances of finding Marin. That advantage seems important enough to go against his orders. The stone warms my palms as I go to lift myself back onto the ledge.
Promise me.
I rub my eyes as his voice echoes in my ears. Even when he isn’t here, he’s trying to win arguments. How annoying can one man be? But as I take my hand off the stone and swivel around, I can picture his hand reaching for me, and my heartbeat speeds up.
My promise to him wins out, and I rush back, hopping from rooftop to rooftop like a thief in the night. When I finally reach the edge of town, I wipe the sweat slicking my brow. I shimmy down the side of the building, my limbs shaking from exhaustion.
Rayce and Arlo run to meet me at the wall as I land on my feet.
“What were you able to ascertain?” Arlo asks, his voice calm even though panic has replaced the laughter in his eyes.
“The townspeople are here,” I say. “For some reason, they’re gathered in the town square. All of them.”
Rayce and Arlo exchange a confused look.
Rayce opens his mouth to ask a question but is interrupted by a voice on the wind. A voice I’ve only heard in my darkest moments since I’ve escaped.
“What’s that?” I ask, pushing past him.
“Rose, don’t go in there!” he shouts.
But I ignore him, my feet already moving. I pass the building I just scaled, praying I’m wrong. I’ve hallucinated him before. And he wouldn’t be here. Not this far east. Not in a town too small and insignificant to bring him any gain.
“People o’ Dongsu, I think eet’s time for a display of your great emperor’s might,” the voice says, turning my blood to razor blades.
It can’t be. The Gardener can’t be here. My feet speed up, and my boot catches on an uneven stone in the road. My knee absorbs the brunt of the fall, and I throw out my hands to catch myself. Using the wall for help, I pull myself up and come face-to-face with Rayce’s wanted poster. And pinned up next to him is my own face, though, oddly, my nose tilts a little to the right.
Ignoring my stinging knee and the Gardener’s voice, I walk toward the wanted poster. It’s like wading through thick water. My feet are reluctant to move. Why would I be wanted by Delmar? The Gardener would want me back, sure, but what would the kingdom want with a girl they saw threaten the rebel leader?
Unless the Gardener told the emperor who I really am.
My gaze drops to the amount of gold promised under my name, and I grip the side of the building to keep from swaying.
I’m wanted for questioning, and my ransom is more than Rayce’s, Arlo’s, and Oren’s combined. If I had any doubts that my right to the Varshan throne would play a role in this war before, that seven-figure number erases them now.
I stagger, aiming to rip the poster off the wall, when a hand grabs my arm. Instinctively, I swing around, fumbling for my sword, until I see Rayce. He presses a finger to his lips and wraps a cloak around my shoulders before taking my hand.
I’m not sure if he saw my wanted poster. But I suppose, right now, it doesn’t change what we have to do—save Marin and the others who were captured.
The sound of my own heart pounds in my ears, blocking out everything else.
He pulls me farther into the middle of the town, taking back alleys until we can peer into the square. People stand shoulder to shoulder in a circle, and in the middle of that circle is my nightmare sprung to life.
Rayce spins me so that I’m facing him instead of my former master. “Don’t look at him,” he orders, but his voice sounds kinder than usual. “Focus on anything else—keep your past in the past.”
I don’t protest his command, reduced to nothing more than a doll in his hands at the sound of the Gardener’s voice.
He pulls up the hood on my cloak, covering my hair, and leans in close to my ear, the intoxicating scent of honey on his breath mixed with the leather of his uniform bringing me to my senses.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers, his words tickling my skin. “I’ve got you covered. Have a little faith in me now.”
And with those final words echoing what I said to him earlier, he dives into the crowd.
Chapter Seventeen
I plunge into the sea of people and elbow my way into the middle, keeping my eyes cast low since their violet hue exposes my heritage. The Gardener’s voice scrapes across my skin like a sandstorm, and I have to remind myself to breathe.
Wedging myself between a tall man and a woman about my height with two small children clinging to her long gray skirt, I raise my eyes to the center. The Gardener turns his girth toward me, and my knees buckle. Eight lackeys dot the circle, keeping the crowd at a safe distance, armed with the same type of swords and crossbows I saw the Sun soldiers wielding.
“The emperor has given me full authority to enforce his rule until I find what is rightfully mine. He has sent me here to make sure ye understand the dangers o’ lettin’ Zareeni come into yer fine town.”
Since when does the emperor trust the Gardener to do his dirty work? My stomach twists. Did the deal go through, even though I escaped?
The Gardener holds his short arms out to the crowd, his plum silk shirt stretching thin across his belly like an overripe grape. In his mind, this is just another show, he the ringleader and these captive townspeople his audience. I will not get caught and become the main attraction again.
“It is known that yer town has been aidin’ these Zareeni ratties, and I’ve been sent here to stress the importance of makin’ sure you understa
nd that you’ve been committin’ treason.”
He balls one of his baby hands into a tight fist. Sunlight sparkles on an array of colorful rings adorning his fingers. Ping, a dark-haired lackey with more fingers than teeth, breaks free from the circle and pushes through the crowd a few feet away from where I stand.
My heart pounds as he wades through people like water. He couldn’t have seen me. The Gardener stands on his tiptoes and nearly tumbles over, but a smile peels his lips back to reveal a row of rotting teeth.
“Speaking of ratties, we have caught one for ya now,” the Gardener says.
The other lackeys drag Marin through the crowd, her wrists and ankles bound in thick rope and a gag over her mouth. Blood from a gash in her hairline seeps down into her left eye. The two men throw her at the Gardener’s tiny feet, and she hits the dirt with a solid thud. The sound causes the child next to me to cry. My hand twitches toward my sword hilt, and I push past the man in front of me.
The pieces fall together before my eyes. We met no opposition on the road, but the second Marin split off from the group, she was snagged. That’s what he does—steals girls.
I knew we were walking into a trap. I just hadn’t realized it was meant for me.
The Gardener’s fat fingers disappear into Marin’s curls, and she lets out a muffled cry as he picks her up off the ground. I wince, my own scalp feeling phantom pain. I push around another man and stop, two rows shy of the front of the circle.
“And if ye see more of these ratties, ye tell them they have a girl, one o’ mine,” he says, his eyes seeming to find my face in the crowd as he speaks. My fingers drop from my sword. “And if she does not find ’er way back to me within one week, I will clip a Wilted for every day she is gone.”
Fern’s blood coating the ground, sticky and congealed as I step over it, shines on the cobblestone. Her screams piercing the air as the three lackeys and Shears brutally attacked her, and how empty the world felt when she went quiet…all of it presses against my chest. My lungs are collapsing. How can I sentence Calla and Lily and Juniper, all of them, to death? The people who loved me in a place where love was skimpier than the clothing we were forced to wear.
Garden of Thorns Page 14
