This part of our meeting was always coming. Behind me, the guard screams out for me to freeze and back away from the prisoner, a reminder that I don’t have even a second to hesitate.
But every ounce of my being cries out in defiance. I made a promise to myself, to the others that I want to help protect, that I would never bow to the man standing before me again. Seven years of groveling, of never looking up for fear it would cost Fern another lashing, of dropping to my knees whenever he looked my way, of averting my gaze.
I swore to Fern.
And here I am, about to break this oath, almost as sacred to me as my memories of my fallen sisters. My stomach rolls and ash fills my mouth. This is a million times more painful than getting stabbed in the shoulder, than holding together my own broken flesh. How can I look at myself in a mirror ever again?
Dropping to my knees on the cold stone, I lean myself down low the way I used to when the Gardener would address me before a show, my forehead pressing to the ground. Everything in me screams to get up. The girl the rebellion molded promised never to bow down to any man because of the one before me. All of my bones feel broken, useless. In this moment, I am as low as the ground I lie on. Before, at least I wasn’t bowing willingly.
I remind myself that my worth isn’t in my submission. I refuse to be defined by this one act. It’s in the gesture, hopefully showing Rayce that the rebellion and his dreams for a brighter future mean more to me than my own revenge.
“Please accept my humble apology for harming you.” I place my hands out in front of me, trying not to think about how many times the Gardener has stepped on them. “It was truly not my intention at the time and it was reckless. Do not punish the rebellion for my insolence.”
Ashes in my mouth, ashes in the air. Every word chokes me. One day, the Gardener will die by my hand. It might not be today or tomorrow, but one day, I will end his life for the crimes he committed against my sisters and me.
“It’s very hard, you see,” the Gardener says. “Your disobedience hurt me deeply.”
My forehead stays pressed to the floor and I take another deep breath to keep from exploding. I need this information, or else everything will have been for naught.
“I’ve done what you asked,” I say, fighting to keep my voice even. I rise slowly from my position on the ground, pulling out the map I stole from Oren’s office and a bit of charcoal. “So please, show me where the secret entrance is.”
I place the parchment on the table near us and hold out the charcoal for him to take. He studies me for a long moment, his silence invading the air, wasting precious time we don’t have. I shake my hand, urging him forward.
“But of course,” the Gardener says. The smoothness of his voice washes over me in a wave of dread. He only ever used that voice when something terrible was about to happen. “As you said, your payment is due.”
He grins, baring his yellow teeth, a predator stalking its prey. The Gardener takes the charcoal, his fingers brushing mine for an instant, and I have to fight the urge not to go wash them in the pool of still water.
This isn’t how the rebellion is meant to end their war. It’s meant to be through a spark of glory, bravery and wits, not in a shady deal sold on the backs of those they swear to protect in a dingy little cell.
“Those soldiers you met guard a tiny gate.” His eyes pick over the map. After a moment, he nods to himself and takes the charcoal to the page, circling part of it. “It’s an entrance the emperor had built in the Dongzhi district near the Blue Temple. All the rebellion needs to do is request with plenty of coin that Duifu Fa leave the gate open and you will have access into Imperial City.”
The answer the rebellion has been looking for held right in between his cruel hands. With this information, Rayce can put his plans into motion, sneaking into the Imperial City while the Varshan army waits at the gates, essentially combining the armies to fight against his uncle and end the war.
But it all seems to fall into place too easily.
“And you’re sure about this gate and its location?” I ask.
“I can’t be positive,” the Gardener says. “I’ve been contained in this cell for…how many days now?”
Busying my hands with gathering up the map he marked on, I ignore his question, my mind already on my next task.
“I’m sure Rayce will verify the information you provided.”
As I turn on my foot and head for the entrance, I notice that the bars hang open. Even though I can’t see any more than a silhouette in the entrance, I already know Rayce waits for me. Gripping the parchment that will be my only defense against disobeying his orders, I move silently toward my fate.
“And the good shogun will find that it’s correct,” the Gardener calls after me.
It’s impossible to tell if he’s lying, but judging by everything else he has told us, it’s doubtful. Crossing the room with my pounding heart in my throat, Rayce finally comes into view, his face completely blank, but his eyes track my every movement. Marin peeks out behind him, giving me a sad, soft smile, but Rayce doesn’t move to let me through the door.
He holds out his hand. “Map.”
I pull out the parchment and hand it over to him. He grants me my freedom, moving out of the way to look at it. The iron gate slams shut behind me, putting distance between one enemy and locking me in with another.
Rayce looks up from the paper, folding it and slipping it in his robe.
“Hallway, now.” His commanding tone reveberates through the stone.
Marin frowns, moving to follow, but I shake my head, motioning for her to stay behind. Rayce moves so fast that I can barely keep up with him. Zarenite flickers to life over our heads, casting his shadow tall and imposing on the stone. The farther we walk, the more anxious I grow. Every inch of my skin feels exposed after what I’ve just done and I can’t take his silence any longer.
I stop, my legs freezing completely. “If you have something to say, please, just say it.”
He continues walking for a few paces, but pauses, a bitter chuckle escaping his lips.
“About which part, Rose?” His voice has thorns, cutting my name into shreds. I wrap my arms over my middle to keep from being torn apart. “The bit where you snuck into the Gardener’s cell directly against my wishes or perhaps the part where you enlisted Marin’s help when you did it?”
The spot where my forehead pressed against the stone while bowing down to the man I’d much rather murder still feels tender. My bare knees are still cold from betraying the promise I made to myself, and I did this all for him. So that he could have his precious entrance.
“And because I did, you have the information you wanted. Information that I don’t think we should use. I’m still against your plan, against anything to do with the Gardener, but I did it to prove to you that even though I don’t always agree with you, I am on your side. Gods, Rayce, I wish you would believe in me the way I still believe in you.”
I hate the way my voice cracks, hate even more the tears that threaten to slide down my cheeks. There’s always been a certain kind of magic in the inches that keep us apart, but right now it’s more like a curse.
I look down at the tops of my boots, my voice just a whisper. “But even if you can’t, I will always believe in you. Even when you’re wrong.”
My words break against his broad back as brittle as my own voice. Silence swirls around in the air between us, making the chilly underground air even colder.
His whisper finally breaks that silence. “Are you going to let me finish what I was saying?”
It’s like he didn’t hear a single word I said. My body feels too heavy. I sink back against the tunnel wall, defeated. The roughly cut stone juts into my back, sending chills down my body. At least, I let myself believe it’s because of the stone.
I clench my eyes shut, weariness at his one-tracked mind flooding through me. Maybe I’m mistaken in all of this. Maybe I’ve done too much wrong at this point and he really doesn’t ca
re anymore.
He takes my silence as permission. “You’ve never been good at following orders, for as long as you’ve been here. If something doesn’t suit you, you just disregard it.”
He finally turns around and though his eyes are still tight, he’s lost the hard edge of his mouth. This isn’t the sure and steady shogun speaking, this is the uncertainty of the man I fell in love with. The map I sacrificed so much of myself for hangs loose in his hands. He takes a step forward, evaporating a few of those immovable inches from between us.
He clears his throat, his voice rough and quiet. “But if you had been, we wouldn’t have been able to get this precious information. Whether you decide to believe it or not, if the entrance to Imperial City turns out to be real, it will end the war. I can feel it in my bones.”
A tear slides down my cheek. “Maybe it will, but my fear is that it will end it badly for us.”
“You spoke to me once about Oren, about how I don’t talk about him, and you were right. It’s too painful, knowing that I might let him down.” He reaches into his robe with his free hand and pulls out Oren’s white dragon pipe. “But there isn’t a moment that goes by where I’m not thinking about him, where I don’t hear his voice. He always talked about recognizing opportunities. Selecting the right time to strike. This is the time, Rose. This is it.”
He stops an inch away from me. It’s not much, but it says everything about who we are to each other right now. My gaze travels up, taking in the small beard coating his jaw. Exhaustion weighs on him like a boulder, robbing his gaze of its usual mischief and playfulness.
“Maybe, but I wish you would consider another plan. I can’t shake the feeling this is a trap.”
His large hand slips around one of mine, dwarfing it. The feeling of his callused palm on mine makes my heart pick up, even though the weight of what I just did threatens to send me spiraling to the ground.
“I’m doing everything in my power to lead this rebellion. I don’t have time to make mistakes because those mistakes cost people their lives. I know you don’t like my plan, but it’s the safest and most effective course of action. I couldn’t say it in the room back there because no one knows…” His hand tightens around mine. He lets his mask fall, and the raw pain in his gaze is enough to shatter me. “But this is the best option to keep you safe, too. The farther we stay away from Varsha, the less likely they are to find out about you. If Oren was able to identify you with only a picture, it won’t be too difficult for others to realize who you are, too, and I won’t have Varsha coming to steal you away, or worse.”
My knees grow weaker with every word he speaks and I’m glad for the stone wall pressing against my back. Otherwise, I might fall under the intensity of his gaze.
He pulls his hand away and holds up the map. “What you’ve done tonight makes me want to repair our trust. Thank you.”
“Just think this through, Rayce. Sometimes you have to take a risk to win. You taught me that. Meeting with Varsha is a risk, but it’s one that I’m willing to take.” I look up at him, meet his gaze, throw every ounce of fear and determination I have in my own. “Whatever you decide, I will support you. We’re safest by each other’s side.”
His hand twitches like he’s going to reach for me again, his lips that I’ve come to memorize parting slightly. I lean toward him, not wanting to fight the pull that always brings me closer to his arms.
His voice is a whisper. “Yes, we are.”
The sad half smile on his face nearly splits me in two.
For now all I can do is wait to see if he changes his mind. I’ve helped him as much as I can. Uncertainty blossoms inside my chest. But no matter what he chooses, I will keep my promise. I will remain by his side until the end. I just hope it isn’t a bitter one.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It doesn’t take long for the scouts to confirm that the gate exists, tucked away low and squat on the side of one of the guard towers so that it is only visible from a single angle. After they locate it, it’s easy to verify that Fa is in charge of guarding that section. Nor does it take much investigating to find the Varshan army now that the rebellion knows it’s there and calculate how long it will take them to reach the gates of Imperial City. Rayce is even quicker to call troops together.
While I’m packing my things in my room with Marin, I get summoned to Piper’s lab and find myself once more in the bustling room amongst the stark white robes like bits of snow drifting over the ground. They dart to and from different tables, moving around the workers that take up a large section of the front wall attempting to repair it. How they can move around like people weren’t dying in here a little while ago is beyond me. I stare at the spot where Rayce and I held a dying man as the life went out of his eyes.
A sharp pain in my arm pulls my attention back to the woman who called me in. Piper’s short hair stays out of her face with an almost invisible headband, and she studies the blood bubbling up from the small prick she just made.
“So far your blood has been inconclusive.” Her tone remains impartial as she flicks the tip of her knife down into a dish, splattering my blood into it. “About as useful as you are.”
Clearly, even stabbing me won’t help her forgive the fact that I ruined the rebellion’s plan to save her sister. Despite the fact that I risked my own safety to resuce her later.
My gaze falls back on the crushed blue powder on her table. If we really are about to go into the belly of the beast for what Rayce is so sure will be the end of the war, it might be nice to have some desert rose in case I get hurt. Whether she can make it work or explain the properties behind it or not, I have a patch of skin that proves to me it will work in a pinch.
“Can I have some of that Borenite?” I ask, motioning to the jar.
“No, it’s the last batch I have,” she says to the dish, flipping her large piece of glass down over her eye to look closer.
“I might get injured on this mission, and it saved my life last time.” She doesn’t budge at my words. Should have known pity wasn’t the way to go with her. I let out a loud sigh. “I’ll let you poke me as soon as we get back if I have to use it.”
She remains quiet for a long time, her right hand armed with a quill as she takes notes on whatever it is she is seeing in the dish in front of her.
“One vial, no more. And you are to report back here first thing. If, by some miracle of science, you don’t have to use it, you will allow me to make a sizable incision and watch the process myself.”
I puff my cheeks out but nod my consent. Maybe after she observes me bleeding for her cause, she’ll finally decide to start treating me like we’re on the same side, though I doubt it. She tilts her head, giving me permission, and I scan her desk, finding a vial the length of my pinkie that I fill with sparkling blue powder. The glass grows cold against my fingertips, and I shiver as I pull out my necklace with the spare Zarenite on it, there in case I’m ever caught without enough to run my weapon, and attach this new vial, too. The sensation of hot on my left and chilly on my right sends my temperature into an odd state of flux. My body isn’t sure if it wants to sweat or shiver.
After promising I’ll report in when I get back, I head for my room and finish packing. Marin and I walk together through the tunnels of the base. The stone is smooth to my touch as I run my fingertips along the tunnel while we walk, saying goodbye to our home for the next few days. It occurs to me that if everything goes the way Rayce hopes, we might soon be saying goodbye to this home forever.
I miss the warmth of the sunlight, the sweet embrace of the sky’s breeze on my back, and the tickle of tall grass on my legs, but even so, this is the first place that has ever felt like home to me. Leaving it would be devastating, but people are not meant to live underground.
The sheer amount of rebels gathered at the tunnel entrance is dizzying. It seems like Rayce put out the call to every available man and woman. He stands in the front, not even noticing as I join his ranks right in between the Flower
s and Marin.
With Suki’s help, he organizes his army into rows of five, and we file out of the base, combing the forests far enough apart so that it doesn’t bring too much attention to the whole if one pack is spotted.
To my surprise, Marin, the other Flowers, and I are assigned to the group with Rayce. Even though we didn’t exactly end our conversation on good terms yesterday, this small act gives me hope. But it starts to dwindle when all I see is his back during the day-and-a-half march through the Shulin Forest, heading steadily toward Imperial City. We stop for a final night’s rest before the battle tomorrow, about a mile from the forest’s edge.
I sit around a small campfire with the other Flowers, missing Marin, who was called to scout where the Varshan army is and to make sure everything is in position.
Calla builds some sort of rice house with her chopsticks while Lily runs her fingers though her long hair, staring into the fire. Clover sharpens one of the knives she always carries on her even though the tip already looks like it could make the air bleed.
Above us hangs a darkened night with only the stars burning. Back in Varsha, no one leaves their houses on moonless nights. It’s considered bad luck. Though I’m not superstitious, the lack of light makes my gut twist.
The only thing I can focus on is the slit in Rayce’s large tent he went through an hour ago with Suki and the other captains from the emergency meeting. What I wouldn’t give to be in there right now. Without his nearness, my stomach does somersaults, causing the already bland food to taste like sand.
“I don’t like all this waiting,” Calla says. “It makes me nervous.”
I shift in my seat. “Our part is the most important. If we don’t manage to get the Imperial Gate open for the Varshan army, the rebellion will be overwhelmed by Sun soldiers.”
“We also won’t see much of the battle from up there,” Lily says. She tugs on her sister’s elbow playfully, trying to get her to smile. “So there’s no need to worry. Besides, Rose won’t let anything happen to us.”
War of the Wilted Page 20
