The entire time I’ve been here, I’ve never seen them argue like this. Tension sparks in the air between them, a storm ready to wage destruction. Rayce is thunder. A loud, rolling boom shaking the world. But Arlo is lightning. Quiet, swift, a flash between blinks.
Arlo steps up to Rayce’s pointed finger, a few inches shorter, but every bit as imposing.
“Because you took her revenge from her. I understand the rebellion’s desperate need for information. I’m right there with you on that, so I made sure we could obtain whatever secrets that vile piece of trash had before the poison would work.”
“You had no right to make that decision.” Rayce shakes his head, turning to me. “And the worst part of all of this is I was trying to help you. You think killing the Gardener will end all of the fear you have inside, but it won’t. Even if you do kill him, it’s just going to make you feel empty.”
The idea that he has any notion of what the future holds for me sends me off the deep end. I held my tongue before when he spoke about not wanting to kill the emperor in the kitchen, but I won’t keep my mouth shut if he’s unwilling to as well.
“That seems kind of hypocritical considering you’re fighting a war against your own uncle. How do you really think this is going to end, Rayce? There can’t be two rulers, and you said it yourself, he will never willingly hand you his throne.”
The moment the words are out, I wish to erase them. We’d just talked about this, he’d just shared his deepest fears with me, and because I’m trying to justify my own actions, I’ve thrown them in his face. His eyes harden and he takes a step back, looking down at the bottle in his hand.
“I know what I’ll have to do.” His voice shakes, barely able to contain his anger. “But don’t confuse need for want, because that’s where you and I are different. You want to kill the Gardener for revenge and you’ve made it perfectly clear that you’ll do anything to get your way. I don’t want to kill my uncle, but in order to save the people he’s been hurting all of these years, I will probably have to.”
The air swirls with his words and the space between us has never felt more pronounced. Several feet might as well be the entire length of the Varshan desert. My hands long to push his hair back, hear him whisper against my skin that everything is going to be okay, but any hope of that breaks when he takes another step back.
“I would send you back to base right now, but I can’t trust you there without supervision. Who knows what other schemes you would come up with.”
I grit my teeth. “I’m not going to do that. I’m on your side, remember?”
Rayce clenches his jaw. “I thought you were. But it seems your revenge is even more important than our trust. I just hope this was worth it.”
I want to apologize, but he shakes his head and stomps out of his own tent, taking all of the air with him. The second I’m no longer under his heavy gaze, my limbs thaw, and I rush for the door.
“Just leave him be,” Arlo says behind me.
My cot groans, signaling that he’s sitting on it. Hand on the opening of the tent, I look over my shoulder. He sinks his face into his hands, his light brown hair sitting flatter on his head than usual. Everything about Arlo’s demeanor suggests he’s lost steam.
“You can stay, but I have to make things right. We can’t leave it like this.”
Ripping through the tent, I pick through the small campsite and find Rayce’s wide back retreating toward the trees. He stomps his way through the night, shoulders squared. All aggression. Something that would have sent me crawling back to my cot a few short weeks ago.
But I’m not afraid of him.
I catch up as he hits the edge of the trees and grab onto the crook of his elbow. He freezes at my touch, his back going rigid and the muscles in his arms flexing underneath my grasp, but he doesn’t turn around to face me. Maybe if he did, I wouldn’t feel so alone.
“After everything that happened today, everything we saw…” I stop, the words hanging in the air as the charred remains of a man clutching a woman flash through my mind. “I wanted to make things right. That’s why I was in your tent in the first place.”
A warm breeze blows through the treetops, filling up the silence that threatens to consume me. He still doesn’t move, doesn’t face me, leaves me completely in the dark. How can I fix anything if he won’t let me in?
“I don’t think we can.” His voice catches in his throat. Raw. Painful. My grip on his arm loosens. “My second-in-command and the woman I love went behind my back, disobeyed direct orders, put the entire rebellion in jeopardy.”
I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “No, we didn’t. We made sure we got the information you needed first. We were thinking of the rebellion. You and I want the same things.”
“I thought we did, too.” He sighs, his head falling as he looks to the ground.
The glittering stars above mock me with their brightness. How can they keep burning when my world crashes down? The land grows more dangerous by the day, and the way he risks himself during every mission, if I let him slip through my fingers now, I might never get the chance to bring him back.
“How do we fix this?”
A tear slips down my cheek, hot and embarrassing. I swipe the back of my hand to erase the evidence but another takes its place.
“I don’t know. I wish I did, but I don’t. All I do know is I need space. Just…let me go right now.”
I grasp my fingers tighter around the long sleeve of his robe, the pale green fabric nearly glowing in the moonlight. When he rescued me from my cage after the Gardener captured Oren and me, Rayce had looked at me with relief under a similar moon, touched me like I was something worth savoring.
But he has always given me what I needed, and I have to do the same for him, even if every fiber of my being screams at me not to.
I let him go, my hand hanging heavy against my side.
“Fine,” I whisper into the growing darkness. “If that’s what you really want.”
I wait for him to take it back, to turn around and embrace me as he always does. Instead, he nods. Hot tears stream down my face like a riptide and I don’t even bother with wiping them away.
His boots disappear from my view, leaving me on my own. The rustle of the wind overhead has never felt more hollow.
Gritting my teeth, I look up at the space between two large trees that Rayce disappeared into. No, we don’t end here. Fractured, but not broken. I just have to prove to him that trusting the Gardener will hurt the rebellion far more than help it. Nothing that the Gardener ever grows blooms right. Like a flower with broken roots.
Living with him for seven years, I know his tricks better than anymore. All I have to do is find the loose thread in his plan and pull, watch it unravel. Without that, there will be no way to sew up this gaping hole growing between Rayce and me.
Chapter Fourteen
Sunlight filters through the tent fabric, but I’m not quite ready to get up. I turn over on my cot and try to fall back asleep, when Rayce’s voice from last night slips between the edges of the dream I’m trying to chase. How do we fix this? He didn’t know.
I sit up on my elbows, looking around Marin’s small tent, guilt welling up in my stomach as last night plays over and over again in my head. I knew if Rayce found out about our plan, it wouldn’t be good, but I didn’t realize how much it would hurt him. I should want to take back my actions, and I do have regret. But only over getting caught. Even if I could do it all over again, the only thing I would change is putting the vial in my pack. The fight we had on top of finding Dongsu burned almost beyond recognition and all of those poor people dying is enough to nearly weigh my head back to the lumpy pillow.
The struggle feels insurmountable. All I wanted was to become a better partner for Rayce, but I’ve been messing things up instead of improving.
The only thing stronger than my annoyance with myself is the fact that if I don’t get up and find answers, we’ll never be able to gain justice
for the people of Dongsu. Whether it is the emperor or Varshans responsible, someone will answer for their blood. I crawl out of bed and throw on my uniform, not even bothering to smooth my hair down as I walk out into the morning light.
Most of the rebels are already up, tearing down their tents. I spot Rayce in the middle of the halfway destroyed campsite, cooking over the small fire with another man. The second our gazes meet, he looks away. Apparently, time apart means this morning, too. Which is fine. Mostly.
He shouldn’t have the power to shatter my heart without even speaking.
After a hasty breakfast, I assist Marin in taking down her tent, and by the time I turn back around after packing it up, the rest of the campsite has been deconstructed. Two women and a man in the same uniform as mine sweep the floor, scattering leaves and dirt alike to get rid of the last traces that we were here.
Even though he hasn’t approached me, I glance over at Rayce. He’s handing sealed parchment to the last of three different scouts. The rebellion’s green wax symbol gleams in the sunlight as a woman with long hair and quick movements takes it from him. I know she’s a scout because I’ve seen her spar with Marin. They’re part of the same unit.
“Didn’t even get called for a simple delivery mission,” Marin mumbles next to me. She crosses her arms over her chest and juts out her bottom lip. “No idea how I’m ever supposed to prove myself if I keep getting passed over.”
Rayce nods to the woman who talks to him. She tucks the parchment in her satchel and the three of them set off in different directions.
Though Marin wishes she could go with them, I’m relieved she stays behind. It’s selfish of me, but right now I need my friend near.
Rayce heads to the front of the pack, keeping a wide arc between us. “Some time” might be a lot longer than I originally imagined. My gut drops and I push a loose section of hair behind my ear, a whiff of smoke clogging my nostrils. Marin and I head into formation, Arlo slipping in beside me.
His light eyes stay peeled on Rayce’s back. Mine are there, too. “Any luck speaking to him last night?”
“He says he needs time.”
Arlo puts an encouraging hand on my arm. “Then give him time. At least he’s speaking with you. That’s an improvement over me.”
It doesn’t feel like one, but I don’t say that to him. Instead, I nod, staring down at the tops of my boots. Marin listens next to us, readjusting the buckle of her belt. She waits for her brother to move ahead before opening her mouth.
“When you need to talk, I’m here. Whatever it is, I’m on your side, Rose.” She grabs my hand, threading her fingers through mine, lending me her strength in the absence of my own. “We’re friends and that’s what friends do. They hold each other up when one feels like they’re going to fall. You’re stuck with me now, whether you like it or not.”
…
The next few days pass in a blur of makeshift campsites, staring at Rayce only to have him look away, and lonely nights peering at an empty cot where he should be sleeping. Every day he ignores me, the hole I felt tear when he asked for time grows wider. Heights have never looked as scary as the edge of the deep darkness looming below. It’s the type of darkness one can get lost in. The type that not even the sun can reach.
When we get to the border of the woods, we’re met by another small platoon. They hand over their horses before diving into the woods, heading back to base. The great rolling plains that stretch out over Delmar’s middle greet us in a sea of tall grass waving in a strong wind. Only a few trees dot the horizon for as far as my gaze stretches. Out here, there’s no hiding our presence.
To make ourselves less conspicuous, we trade our uniforms for the simple robes of farmers and peasants. The tan robe wraps high up my neck, concealing the leather breastplate hiding underneath. Arlo directs us to rub soot, collected from the remains of Dongsu, on our faces, and if we’re stopped, we’re supposed to report that we’re fleeing from our burned down home. The wrongness of using their misfortune for our cover doesn’t escape me, but I also can’t think of a better alternative, so I cover myself with soot once again and climb onto the back of my assigned horse.
We cross a narrow part of the Changhe, the gates of Imperial City looming tall and ominous off into the distance. If we followed the banks of rushing blue waters northwest, it would lead us right up to the iron gate cut into Imperial City’s wall, allowing the mighty river to feed the city, and end up at the crumbling wreckage of the blue temple meant to honor Xia, goddess of summer.
Still, relief floods through me, knowing our path doesn’t lead us in that direction. Instead, we snake around the ancient wall that stretches in a wide, uneven circle around Imperial City, heading closer to the great expanse of salty water that jets off into the horizon. The Garden only made rare appearances in ocean-facing towns, so I can count on two hands how many times I’ve seen the sun set over the sea.
Our destination, Huidezen, a tiny village barely larger than a few square miles, sits in the shadow cast by the giant gate. Before we get too close, our troop stops and Arlo trots up to Rayce. Though it probably isn’t noticeable to anyone else, my gut twists watching Rayce stiffen as Arlo approaches him. They exchange a few words, though it isn’t the normal, easy way they speak and Rayce doesn’t ever look at him. After a moment, Arlo rides down the line as the rebels begin to spread out and flank the town at key points.
Arlo stops in front of my horse. “Shing, Rose, the shogun wants you two with us.” His eyes move to the twins and Clover. “You three, if you could find good positions on the roof of the inn, that would be helpful. Don’t make entrance unless there’s trouble.”
Though Lily nods enthusiastically, Calla turns away, her face contorted into a scowl. It looks like she might protest, but Lily whispers something to her and they head off, leaving only three rebels besides Rayce, Arlo, Marin, and me. Perhaps I should have spoken up instead of Lily. It’s what Rayce would have done, but lately all my mouth has been good for is getting me in trouble.
Further proof I’m not meant to lead.
Maybe Rayce is finally realizing that, too.
We ride past the first wooden house, the ends of its sloped wooden roof curling up to touch the depressing gray stone of Imperial City’s wall. Faded lines of black paint have been sunbaked onto the stone, but the shape of what they used to be is unreadable.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle as we move into the shadow of the wall, almost like the emperor’s eyes are on our backs. The sagging wooden buildings that make up the village seem to agree, each one sinking into the ground it sits on.
The tightly packed earth that makes up the road Rayce leads us on kicks up dust from the horse’s hooves. Even the people walking on it seem downtrodden. Large straw hats droop, obscuring most faces as we pass by. On occasion a man or child raises their head to look at the small pack of horses traveling through, but there is no curiosity behind their eyes. Just blank looks on sun-hardened faces as they tuck their callused hands into their colorless robes and keep moving. A little past the edge of town are rows and rows of rice fields, responsible for their weary faces and rough hands.
Rayce’s horse stops up ahead, the clap, clap of hoof clomps strangely absent from the air after so many long hours of their constant company. He hops off, going to examine one of the largest establishments here.
Hanging above a small door is a faded wooden sign with black painted symbols that reads The Blue Heron. Underneath it are long smudges of blue, which might have once been a painting of the bird the inn was named after.
“This is it,” I whisper to Marin. The Gardener’s mocking voice wraps around my skin, sending shivers down my spine, though the day is hot and not nearly over. “The Blue Heron. That’s the place we’re looking for.”
The muscles in my legs scream as I slide off my horse, sore and stiff after the long journey. If I never have to get on another horse again, it’d be too soon. I’d much rather stick to rooftops for quick travel.
Arlo grabs my reins and Marin’s, leading our mounts to a nearby stable while we walk over to Rayce.
Even in peasant clothes, it’s hard to look away from Rayce. His dingy gray robe pulls apart at the top, revealing a hint of his muscle underneath, and the baggy black pants tucked into his simple boots can’t hide the strong shape of his legs. My body pulses from his nearness, my hand longing to caress his cheek.
But he doesn’t even bother to acknowledge my presence, busying himself by tucking his stunner inside his robe.
If it were a few months ago, I could accept this. But now, after we’ve been through so much, I can’t continue to let the drawn-out silence go on any longer. We’re supposed to be in this together.
“Listen closely, everyone,” he says, “our part here today will be imperative. When we go in there, we’re looking for a silver lotus brooch. Spread out in pairs. If you identify it, make sure you signal to me, but do not approach our target. Once contact is made, spread out throughout the tavern, act natural. The less attention we draw to ourselves, the better.”
The rebels each give a curt nod, and an older man with a thick scar twisting down his arm pulls open the wooden door, letting out a flood of warm orange light. The warmth carries with it the low rumble of people talking, the cheery clinking of metal cups, laughter, and the plucking melody of a pipa, a pear-shaped lute common to Varsha. Everyone begins to file in quickly, but I can’t focus.
Rayce walks past me and I catch his elbow, the sinewy muscles in his arms flexing.
My words sound hard through my gritted teeth. “Why even bother assigning me near you if you’re just going to ignore me?”
His gaze flickers to my face. I expected to find anger, but instead I’m met with twin pools as wild as a storm raging over the sea.
“I’m not trying to ignore you.” He sighs, his voice nothing more than a whisper. “No, that was a lie. I am ignoring you. I’m still furious at you, Rose, even though I’m trying not to be. But despite everything, despite you going behind my back and conspiring with Arlo, despite you understanding the Gardener’s importance to our case, it hurts me more not to have you near me. Even if I can’t look at you, the safest place for you is by my side.”
War of the Wilted Page 13
