B0161NEC9Y (F) (10 page)

At the door, Alena froze one more time, making sure all was quiet. Usually after midnight no one moved around the city. The citizens were supposed to be in their houses, and the army men were all locked up either in this prison with the officers, or in the park with the enlisted men. The guards, complacent with the long, slow hours of the night, often dozed or stood at their posts with vacant stares.
Usually
they stayed put—she had no idea what the second guard had wanted with the first. She only hoped he didn’t plan to return.

Aside from a few shuffles, some heavy breathing, and the occasional cough, silence reigned.

With her heart in her throat, Alena inched her head around the doorframe to peer inside. A candle flickered somewhere off to the left, sprinkling the bars and softly illuminating a mess of bodies sprawled out on the floor. She could barely make out chests rising and falling, her army’s men sleeping. Two ankles, one on top of the other, stuck out from the wall. The guard was definitely sitting, and appeared to be relaxing. This was good news.

She inched her head in a little further, glancing around to look down the other side of the row of cells. Moonlight from a few high windows barely lighted the ground where another mess of bodies lay. Since the city didn’t see many captives, the prisons were small and cells few. The Graygual had stuffed as many of the officers in as they could.

She clutched her precious cargo tighter to her chest. Her stomach constricted with fear. She stepped in.

The guard was sitting with his head drooped to the side. His meaty arms were crossed over his chest. She couldn’t see his eyes, but with his head like that, he had to be asleep.

Breath shallow, she inched forward, tingles of fear making her joints tight and jerky. Unwashed bodies assaulted her senses. More than one man lay in an awkward position, pressed up against the bars or other men, limbs jumbled together. The fact that they could sleep like that was testament to the extent of their overall suffering. They were so tired they could sleep anywhere, in any position. They’d grown used to the horrible conditions because they had to. It was that or die.

Alena’s heart ached. Three already had.

No time to think about that now.

She scanned the cell in front of the guard where there was the most light. Gretchen had said Lucius and Sterling were both in that cell, carefully watched. They were the highest-ranked officers in the city.

Dark heads danced in the flickering orange light. Dull blue uniforms, coated with dirt and grime, became a sea. Boots of all sizes stuck out of odd locations within the bodies.

Squinting and shaking her head, she stepped a little closer, her senses on high alert. She caught sight of a head with short hair. Looking closer, she could just make out the strong jaw, perhaps a small cleft in his chin? He seemed handsome enough, but she could barely see him. It could be her mind playing tricks on her.

He had short hair, though. It
had
to be Lucius. The Hunter kept him relatively well groomed.

He lay near the back, tangled up like everyone else. Tiptoeing, careful not to shuffle, Alena edged toward the cell. She had to get this done.

She bent to the nearest shoulder and touched it gently, belatedly realizing it was a childhood friend—Barus. His eyes snapped open, sighting her immediately. A faint line came into his brow in confusion, but he didn’t move.

Alena put a finger to her mouth. She pointed to the bundle clutched to her chest, and then pointed to the back of the cell. She mouthed, “Lucius.”

Barus’ gaze flicked toward the guard, then back up at her. He shook his head. “Go.”

Oh good, he was going to try and tell her what to do from inside a jail cell. Very helpful.

She shook her head and whispered, “Get Lucius!”

Barus’ eyes flicked to the guard again. The furrow in his brow deepened, but not out of confusion this time. He was disapproving.

The sands were pouring through the hourglass as she stood there, dickering around with the fool. He’d get her caught while trying to make sure she was safe.

She touched the body next to him. The man moved, waking up slower than Barus had. When his head turned, she saw it was Timken, an older army man who refused to retire. He was probably kicking himself for that decision now.

Confusion stole his expression as his gaze fell on Alena. Just like Barus, his eyes then flicked to the guard.

“Lucius.” Alena added a point to her whisper.

Unlike Barus, Timken took note of what she held. His doubt cleared instantly. He gave a curt nod before shifting in order to get his right arm, previously pressed against the bars, into the air. With a wheeze of effort, he gave the man next to him a hard poke.

The wake-up period and following confusion ate more time. Alena could feel the sting of anticipation. She glanced at the guard behind her, only a little comforted by the steady rising and falling of his chest. Someone could come through the door at any minute, though. She needed to speed this up and get out of there.

She made circles in the air with her hand, hoping that they would get the message.
Let’s go!

The next man woke up, then the next, each a little quicker now that more of them were awake. Barus shifted position. A button scraped against a bar. Everyone froze.

Alena did the motion again.
Hurry up!

Finally someone jabbed Lucius. His eyes snapped open. His head came up, and he scanned the men on the ground before his gaze settled on her. Confusion and fear stole his expression, the fear a remnant from when they had punished her for his stubbornness.

Alena looked down at her bundle, and then motioned him forward.

A chorus of breath being released blew through the cell as a message was passed along.

“Pass it through,” Timken said quietly.

“I can’t. I have to explain the plan to him directly.”

“Whose plan?”

Was now really the time to be nosey? “
Just pass the message on!
”

When the message reached Lucius, the real issue came into effect. For him to get up and get to the bars, they all had to move. Fabric rustled. Bodies scraped against the stone floor. Someone grunted as another let out a muffled “Ow!”

Alena started bouncing in place, that open door pressing at her back. She glanced at the guard, then at that airy void through the door. More grunts and shifting. A groan of pain.

This is a very bad idea.

The guard snorted.

Alena spun, fear crawling through her. Her stomach rolled as his head came up and a grimace took over his face. Eyes still closed, his head bobbed.

Gretchen hadn’t made the sleeping draught strong enough!

Holding her breath, Alena glanced down at her package. Then at the men in the cell, all frozen, staring at her or the guard with wide eyes. Then at Lucius, agony in his gaze. She knew he would rather die than for her to be captured by the guards and put to death. The men of this city hated women being in harm’s way, and the Hunter had made the punishment clear for those defying his rule. She should run!

Without warning, Shanti’s face flashed into Alena’s mind. She didn’t know the foreign woman personally, but she envied her freedom of will, her fearlessness and brash attitude. Shanti had never been afraid of anything. She’d always gotten the job done.

Then Alena thought of Molly slapping her across the face. If she ran now, she would leave a hole in their planning. And with just one hole, the whole thing would unravel.

The Women’s Circle was counting on her. She could not fail.

A new wave of courage washed through her. Hardening her resolve, she continued to wait for Lucius. The guard shifted, moaning once more, before settling back with his chin on his chest. He shifted again, uncomfortable. He’d wake up again soon. Alena didn’t have long.

She turned back to the cell and motioned Lucius forward. “Hurry!” she mouthed.

“Go!” he mouthed back, flinging his hand toward the door.

Timken pushed someone out of the way, the rustling of fabric blaring through the silence like a hammer on an anvil. He grabbed Lucius by the shirt and jerked, making him step forward.

Lucius stepped on someone’s leg. Then an arm. Grunts sounded like popping corn. The guard moaned behind her.

C’mon.
C’mon!

“
You shouldn’t be here!” Lucius’ words were barely more than a rustling of wind.

“Take this.” Alena passed through the bundled collection of vials. “There are two potions in there. One is a fast-working poison. All you have to do is introduce it into the enemy’s body any way that you can. Mouth, eyes, a cut…”

Lucius nodded with the info, taking the package through the bars.

“The other is a deep sleep draught. It’ll make you appear dead.
You,
Lucius. Sterling, too. There are three draughts in all, so you can choose one other. Those vials have a red lid. It’ll work within a few hours, and then your heart rate will slow to the point that it is undetectable. You’ll go cold to the touch, you’ll go still—you will look dead. That will last for about a day, maybe less. Do you understand?”

He frowned. That was a no.

“When the Captain comes, and things start to get hairy,” she explained quickly, “swallow the contents of the red vial. Appear dead and they’ll put you in the morgue where there are no locks. You can help from the inside of the city while the Captain is on the outside. Do you
see
?”

“What about the poison?”

Boots scraped against stone. The guard moaned. Alena’s heart started to thump wildly. She pushed the bundle against his chest, hearing the guard moving again. He was fighting the sleeping draught now.

“That’s for everyone else. Spread it out. We are trying to get a little to everyone. When the Captain starts the attack, and things are getting more chaotic, you can use this to cut people down. We’ll try to get you knives, but those are harder to hide from the guards. This’ll work if you don’t have anything else. Just a tiny bit will do the job—it’s very potent. Splash it in their face to get it into their mouth or something. It’s all we could think of to give you guys something to use.”

“Have you had word of the Captain?” Lucius asked, his voice dripping with hope.

“No, but he will come. That’s what the Hunter is banking on. And when he does, he’ll bring the foreign women. Molly is positive that together they will cause havoc.”

Lucius nodded slowly. “Wise. And yes, they will.” He reached through the bar and took her hand. The warmth seeped into her, vibrating through her in a long-forgotten way. “Thank you. For your bravery.”

She felt the rush of pride. It was short-lived.

The chair behind her creaked. Alena jumped and spun. The guard’s head lolled before bobbing up. He blinked, dazed, before rubbing at his eyes.

“Get out of here!” Lucius said in a fierce whisper.

The guard rolled his neck and then shoulders, straightening up. Alena didn’t waste any more time. She hiked up her skirt and ran. The soles of her shoes slid as she took the corner too fast. She crashed into the doorframe.

“What—?” The chair creaked again, the guard getting to his feet.

“Move!” she heard Lucius urge. As she swung around the corner, she caught sight of Lucius pushing someone. She could just make out Barus barreling into someone else, drawing the guard’s attention, before she was gone.

She had to tell the Women’s Circle she’d succeeded in her task. There was only one more plan to put into effect, before they were ready for the Captain and the bloodshed to follow.

That was when the real danger began.

Chapter Eight

Sanders refused to feel the ache in his legs and back from their constant riding. The horse under him, as well bred and sturdy as it was, panted from fatigue. But the end was in sight. Already the land was changing, morphing from an acquaintance into an old friend, reminding him of childhood hunts and excursions. They were almost home.

A shock of fear punched him.

Junice.

He gritted his teeth and looked out to the side, clamping down on the stream of worst-case scenarios that rolled through his mind. Junice would be okay. She was a fighter. She had never let Sanders get his way, much less order her around, so there was no way she’d let some stinky Graygual push her around.

“The Hunter will be civil to his captives unless his demands aren’t met,” Rohnan said in his stupid singsong, caressing voice. It had a calming effect.

Being too calm could get a man killed.

“Stop reading my mind, gorgeous,” Sanders said sarcastically. He looked back to the front. He didn’t need anyone seeing how anxious he was. He needed to be the strong focal point of this outfit, backing up the Captain and keeping everyone else confident. That damn twin of Shanti’s was just confusing matters.

Sanders blew out a breath, feeling both relief and fear as they crossed the first landmark identifying the border of their land. His horse’s head started to droop, and his wasn’t the only one. These horses were near the brink. They’d ridden hard over the last week, and if they didn’t give these animals a break, they’d be walking the rest of the way.

Another landmark came and went as they moved deeper into the lush trees. The first sentry post loomed on the right. Sanders could tell it was empty. That was normal. Sanders hadn’t stationed people in that crow’s nest for years. It was too far out for the present time of peace with the surrounding lands.

After this, though, it might be time to stick a Shadow person with mind power up there. Peacetime was over.

In a hundred yards or so, the next sentry post came up. Also empty. After this, they should be manned, assuming the Hunter hadn’t killed everyone.

“Let’s halt,” Shanti said in a faraway voice. Her horse pranced sideways instead of stopping. That horse didn’t like to stand still when it sensed a battle coming. “Bloody horse,” Shanti muttered before sliding to the ground.

She glanced back at Sanders before walking to the Captain’s horse, away from the rest of the men.