Treason: Book Two of the Grimoire Saga (a Young Adult Fantasy series)

by S. M. Boyce

  A Hillsidian guard shoved Kara into her room. She stumbled and leaned against a wall, balancing Flick in her hands. She had pulled her still-unconscious pet from his hiding place moments before Gavin assigned a guard to watch her.

  The guard shifted in the doorway. “We leave in a few hours, Vagabond. Pack your things. You are not to leave this room. I will give you five minutes to change, but you are to otherwise be supervised at all times.”

  He left and closed the door behind him without waiting for an answer.

  The Bloods’ presents to her littered the bed. Someone must have put them on her bed during the Gala before all hell broke loose. Kara sat beside the boxes and laid Flick on a pillow before she buried her face in her hands.

  What a disaster. Standing up to Gavin might have saved Braeden’s life, but it had been political suicide. She had become a prisoner, an accomplice to the secret Braeden kept from the world for so long. She hadn’t seen the other Bloods on her way to her room, but she could only imagine they would be as furious as Gavin.

  She could teleport Braeden out of trouble when Flick woke up, but that wouldn’t prove anything. It would make her a fugitive, effectively undoing everything she’d achieved. So she had to be delicate. She had to do this the Bloods’ way and make them see reason.

  Kara took a deep breath and forced herself to her feet. She couldn’t wallow in self-pity. She had to change, after all—if she waited, she would have an audience.

  Two guards tossed Braeden into a prison cell beneath the head table where he’d sat hours earlier. Gavin strode through the throng of soldiers gathered at the door.

  “Leave,” he ordered.

  The guards bowed and obeyed. Within seconds, the prison door closed, and Gavin strode deeper into the cell. He knelt and reached for a chain around Braeden’s neck—the chain on which Braeden kept an ornate golden key that could open the lichgate into Hillside.

  Gavin yanked on the key. Its chain snapped, slinking into the king’s hand, and he stuffed it in his pocket. Braeden’s neck stung where the clasp had broken, but he didn’t flinch.

  “Hillside is no longer your home,” Gavin said.

  Braeden shook his head. “I’ve only ever protected Hillside. Why should what I am matter, Gavin?”

  The king put his hands behind his back and grimaced. “You lied to my family for over a decade. Of course that matters! You should be ashamed of yourself, Braeden. And look at you, still in your Hillsidian form. It’s insulting. Change!”

  “I wish you hadn’t found out this way, but I won’t change. This is who I am, brother.”

  “Don’t call me brother.”

  “I’ve done so for twelve years. Why should that be any different now?”

  “Because you’re a liar! Why would you lie to us for so long?”

  “Because I knew this is how you’d react!” Braeden’s voice echoed through the cell and down the hallway.

  Gavin shook his head and rubbed his temples. “The Heir of Kirelm is gone, as is the Heir and Queen of Losse. What part did you play in that? Were you so desperately pushing the Vagabond’s agenda in a ploy to get all the Bloods in one place?”

  Braeden shook his head, but the movement sent a wave of exhaustion through him. He needed sleep. His legs and neck and arms all ached.

  “Stop lying!” Gavin shouted.

  “I’m not! Did you forget that I came to Hillside when I was twelve? I was escaping Carden, not working for him!”

  “Stelians are dishonorable,” the king said with a growl.

  Gavin kicked him in the stomach. Braeden fell to the stone floor and curled around his gut, but the agony doubled as the poison barred his body from healing.

  “That’s right. You don’t heal so quickly when you’re chained, do you?” Gavin asked.

  He laughed and kicked Braeden again. The pain swelling in Braeden’s core blocked out all thought in his mind.

  “What do you know of this attack?” Gavin asked.

  “Nothing!”

  Another kick hit Braeden in the side. Ribs cracked.

  “What do you know!”

  “Bloods! Nothing!”

  Thorn-covered vines pushed through the rocks at Braeden’s feet, bending with every move of Gavin’s hands as the king controlled them. They shot toward Braeden and wrapped around his neck, pinning him against the wall. Their spines bit into his skin, and more black blood dripped down his suit.

  More of Braeden’s energy faded with each breath, but he would use the last of it to keep his Hillsidian form even if it meant dying. If he died here, it would be as he saw himself.

  Gavin knelt. “This is your last chance to tell me what you know about the attack.”

  “Nothing,” Braeden muttered, weak.

  The vines unwound themselves and retreated back into the earth. Braeden sighed with relief. Gavin stepped back and brushed the dust from his ripped suit.

  “I suppose we’re lucky no more were taken,” Gavin said.

  Braeden suppressed a laugh. “You mean you’re lucky Evelyn wasn’t taken.”

  “I didn’t say—”

  “You don’t need to. I’ve known for years, but I kept your secret because you were my brother.”—Braeden spat out the word, hating it—“You’ve already trapped Evelyn, so don’t drag Kara into this spiteful pit you call a life! Whatever plans you have for her, stop!”

  “You will stay away from the Vagabond,” Gavin ordered.

  “I won’t. You’re using her, just like you use everyone around you. Leave her out of this.”

  Gavin knelt again until he met Braeden’s eye. “She could never love you. You’re pathetic. Your father’s stunt has cost the kingdoms what little faith we had in each other. The Bloods blame me for their losses. Me! After the month I spent securing this place, the only possible reason Stelians could have gotten through is because you told them where to look.”

  “I didn’t,” Braeden spat.

  “This last month, you weren’t hunting isen, were you? You were helping him. You probably threatened Kara to keep your secret when she found out. Is that right?”

  “No!”

  Gavin pushed himself to his feet. “We leave for Ayavel in a few hours for your trial. It will be the first judicial act under the Treaty of Ethos and will define this new era as much as your kind destroyed our celebration tonight. Our parents’ war is ours now. Don’t expect to survive it.”

  The room spun as the poison dug deeper into Braeden’s body. Gavin strode out of the room, and two guards replaced him.

  Braeden closed his eyes, but his head reeled. He leaned against the wall and waited. Maybe he slept—he didn’t know. Pain shot through his body with every movement, diluting his thoughts.

  Though Gavin said they would leave in several hours, it seemed like only minutes passed before two hands grabbed Braeden’s arms and hauled him to his feet. He didn’t try to walk, and he could barely open his eyes. Blurs crossed his vision as the guards moved him. The arms disappeared seconds before he landed on something hard—wood.

  Braeden forced his eyes into focus. The first brush of a red sunrise broke through the metal bars of his cage. He sat in a wheeled prison pulled by two griffons with Kirelms on their backs. Mounted guards and foot soldiers lined a long road ahead of him, all shifting their feet as they waited for a signal to move.

  Kara sat on a horse a few dozen feet off, her hands tied loosely before her. She glanced back to him. He tried to smile at her through the pain, but he knew she wouldn’t see it. Gavin rode up beside her and took the reins from her horse.

  “Move out!” he yelled.

  The procession stirred to life at his order. The sun rolled across the sky as they trekked on, and Braeden became somewhat lucid despite the spikes that scraped away at his resilience. He focused his energy on maintaining his Hillsidian form during the silent march. Kirelm soldiers flew overhead probably as lookouts, but only soldiers and a few politicians remained in the company. Braeden wondered if the rest of the surviv
ors had been sent home.

  He healed more slowly with the spikes, but he did heal. These cuffs must have been weaker than anything Carden had. With a twinge of disgust, Braeden was grateful for the time he’d spent in Carden’s cuffs if it meant he could resist these.

  He lay back and stared at the ceiling. The bars’ shadows inched across the wood as the day passed, and he eventually just closed his eyes. With each hour he laid still, another grain of lucid thought returned.

  Braeden didn’t look around until a cool breeze dried the sweat on his neck. He opened his eyes in time to catch a cherry blossom tree pass by. He glanced out the back of his mobile jail—the trees lined a paved road and framed a distant sunset. An entire day, wasted in a half-asleep stupor. He cursed under his breath. At least he’d healed most of his injuries on the trip.

  Dozens of tree blossoms fell off in the growing breeze. Braeden peeked through the front of the cage and over the two griffons to see a white palace spiraling into the sky. Tall white walls with ornate golden spikes rose almost to the clouds. He caught his breath despite the desperate chill of his situation.

  A gate in the front wall stood open as the convoy ahead of him walked through into the city. As his cage bounced onto the empty streets, Braeden caught glimpses of several stunning, three-pupil eyes staring from behind curtains of gold-trimmed houses and the glass displays in storefronts. The entire city had retreated indoors, but he didn’t have time to wonder why.

  Guards yelled. The gate slammed shut, its boom echoing through the streets. The griffons leading Braeden’s cage turned away from the main company and hurried down a side road just inside the main wall. He looked back, but he couldn’t find Kara before the procession he’d traveled with disappeared behind a line of buildings.

  Kara cursed under her breath as Braeden’s jail turned down another road, but Gavin grabbed her wrist.

  “Silence,” he said.

  She pulled against Gavin’s grip, but resisted the impulse to light him on fire. Her second instinct to punch him in the face wasn’t much better, though. The consequences of doing either would outweigh the satisfaction. She bit her cheek instead.

  Gavin leaned into her, and his breath rolled over her neck as he whispered. “I will kill him before the trial if you visit him.”

  She grimaced. “What are you?”

  “A politician. My country is first. Lives are second.”

  She twisted in his grip out of reflex, and he let her go. For a moment, she thought he’d actually give her space. But he dismounted and gestured for her to do the same.

  Kara slid off her borrowed horse, and Gavin grabbed her arm the moment she landed. He turned and led her into the palace. They passed through the main doors and into a large hall, where a massive pair of opened double doors lined each of the walls. A hallway stretched on through the doorway ahead of her, its walls lit by fire-filled sconces. The room on Kara’s right held the customary three thrones of any yakona throne room. Rows of tables filled the room to her left, and the sweet spices of roasted chicken rolled over her as she came near. Her stomach growled.

  Gavin dragged her into the hallway and through the first door he found. They wound up in an office covered with blue wallpaper. Its only furniture was a wooden desk, but Gavin didn’t make her sit. He shut the door and let her go once they were inside. She rubbed her arm.

  “Listen closely, Vagabond,” he said.

  Kara tensed, but let him speak. He was a Blood—as much as she wanted to think she had more power, she didn’t. She wouldn’t win a fight with him. Even if she did win by some miracle, several more Bloods waited just outside.

  Gavin kept his eyes locked on hers as he spoke. “Braeden’s trial is tomorrow. He will be found guilty—I’ll make sure of that unless you do something for me.”

  Kara couldn’t breathe. This was it. This was everything the Vagabond had told her would happen—Braeden had become leverage.

  “He’s your brother,” she said. The last word slipped out like a hiss.

  Gavin continued as if she hadn’t said anything. “Publically declare yourself as loyal to me and take my bloodline—the other Bloods would never let me force it upon you, not now. Allow me to control you as my subject. Do that, and I will convince them to let him live. He will never be free, but he won’t die.”

  “But I would become your pawn.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way, but you would obey me. Yes.”

  Gavin watched her, waiting for an answer, but this wasn’t a choice. This was blackmail. It was the same choice Carden had given Braeden when they’d found the Stelian amulet—‘obey me, or let her die.’

  “You have until midnight to decide,” Gavin said.

  The king grabbed her arm and pulled her into the hallway. The other Bloods waited just outside the door. Aislynn, Ithone, and Frine all glared at Gavin, no doubt wondering what he’d said or done, but Kara looked down the hall.

  She needed to say something, anything to make the insanity stop, but no words would come.

  Kara’s heart thudded in her ears. So much for her playing by their rules. She might be able to change their minds at the trial without Gavin’s help. He might even be bluffing. With any luck, he didn’t really have that much sway over the other Bloods.

  She blinked back tears as Aislynn turned without a word and led them down the hallway. Everything she had worked for crumbled around her. Her choices were now slavery, renouncing her vagabond cause, or letting Braeden die.

  That wasn’t a choice.

  Braeden leaned into the bars as his cage rumbled down a street. He just closed his eyes and waited for the jostling to stop. When it did, the door to his cage opened. Guards dragged him out and threw him into yet another dungeon. He pulled himself against the wall and managed to open his eyes.

  Demnug leaned over him, eyes heavy with regret as he clamped yet another set of shackles around Braeden’s ankles. Braeden couldn’t stifle the sharp cry as the spikes cut through his pants to pierce the skin beneath.

  “Your trial will be in the morning,” the captain said, “and I have been ordered not to bring you comfort of any kind. I’m sorry.”

  “I forgive you,” Braeden said.

  Demnug sighed and followed his men from the room. The cell door closed, and a torch retreated down the dark hall leading to Braeden’s prison. Beams of moonlight sauntered through a window near the roof.

  Braeden resigned himself to falling asleep against the cold stone wall with the hope that Kara would visit him, whatever the repercussions might be.

  Kara hid the fact that Gavin’s grip on her arm stung. His fingers pinched her skin. She would have to heal bruises.

  Gavin dragged her through a hallway trimmed with gold molding. Aislynn led him, while Frine and Ithone flanked behind. Kara didn’t bother looking at the other Bloods. It wasn’t as if they would help her.

  Aislynn stopped at a door in the middle of the hallway, its red wood and gold frame identical to every other door in the hall. The Ayavelian queen turned the handle and pushed it open, but Kara only caught a glimpse of a red canopy bed.

  “She will be isolated enough, here,” Aislynn said to Gavin.

  “You all are making a mistake,” Kara said. She did her best to keep her voice steady.

  “Be thankful you aren’t chained in a prison cell yourself,” Ithone retorted.

  Frine nodded. “You knew what Braeden is. You lied to us, and are therefore untrustworthy.”

  Before she could respond, Gavin pushed her through the doorway and caught her eye. He glared at her as if she had killed the Queen by keeping Braeden’s secret.

  Braeden didn’t stand a chance if she couldn’t change their minds.

  “Hillsidians will keep first watch on her.” Gavin looked to someone in the hall and nodded into the room.

  “You are not as important as you seem to think, Blood Gavin,” Frine said.

  Several Hillsidian soldiers marched into the room, ignoring the Lossian Blood’s remar
k. Captain Demnug stood ahead of his men, but he wouldn’t look Kara in the eye.

  Ithone bristled. “Who are you to claim first right? How do we know you won’t have them steal her away?”

  “Enough!” Aislynn yelled.

  No one spoke.

  The queen gestured to Kara. “We can stand bickering over who will guard the poor girl, or we could actually do something useful and discuss what we are to do next. Thrones are being built for you three as we speak, so I suggest we retire to my study until those are ready.”

  Frine shook his head. “But the Vagabond—”

  “—will not be leaving,” Aislynn interrupted.

  Ithone paused at the doorway. “If you insist, my lady.”

  “I do insist. I don’t care which of you sends guards up next. She’s not leaving. There is no way for her to escape Ayavel without my knowing.”

  Aislynn caught Kara’s eye and glanced to her satchel, and it was all Kara could do not to sigh with frustration. Aislynn somehow knew about Flick’s powers.

  “Lead us, then, dear queen,” Frine said.

  “My general will take you to my study, but I must first see to Evelyn. I will meet you there shortly.”

  Frine, Ithone, and Gavin disappeared from view, led off by someone Kara couldn’t see, but Demnug and his guards remained. Aislynn gestured for them to leave.

  “It is entirely unnecessary that you be in here. I’m certain the Vagabond is exhausted and needs her rest. I can’t imagine it’s very relaxing to have four armed men watching her sleep.”

  Demnug tensed. “But Blood Gavin said—”

  Aislynn glared at him. “You are in my home and you will obey me whilst you are here. I have only ever shown the same courtesy while in Hillside, Captain.”

  He hesitated, but nodded and turned to Kara after a moment. “There will be guards posted outside the window, ready to kill you should you attempt to escape. That’s a fair warning, not a threat.”