Fireblood (35 page)

I sniff back my tears, and force strength into my eyes for him. “Then, is Fireblood to be my new name? Or is there one especially for those who mess up this royally?”

His lips curl into a smile as he touches them softly to mine. He nods, and whispers, “Mine.”

* * *

As we near the Rebel camp, Fireblood comes to a sudden stop when Devlan tightens her reins.

I glance around. “What’s wrong?”

His form goes rigid in my arms. He leans back and silently cues his horse to back away. Twigs snap under Fireblood’s hooves as she retraces her steps. I can feel her hesitancy beneath me. Cautiously, I angle my head around Devlan, and freeze.

Large indigo eyes, reflecting the moon so brightly that they glow, stare back at me. A low growl rumbles from the beast. My arms hug Devlan tighter. “What—”

“Shh,” he says. Fireblood snorts.

The hair of the monster’s dark-gray coat stands up as it lowers itself to the ground, readying for an attack. It’s close to the size of Fireblood, and its legs bulge with muscles under its matted fur.

Dread creeps over me as I stare into its wild eyes, but it’s the mutated wolf’s face that scares me the most. Its long muzzle and pointed ears have no fur. Black skin stretches over its face. Thin lips pull back to reveal razor-sharp teeth tinged with blood.

“Hold on.” Devlan kicks his heels and leans forward, urging Fireblood to charge past the monster.

Fireblood gathers herself, and the beast lunges. I latch my arms around Devlan, holding on as Fireblood gallops off.

As we near the twinkling lights of camp, Devlan shouts, “Arms!”

A barricade of large cemented blocks, bags of grain and sand, and logs surrounds the Rebel camp. Rebels spring up from the other side of the makeshift wall, wielding bows. Their arrows whiz past us as we head for the barricade’s opening.

Once we clear the barricade, Devlan pulls his horse to a stop. The guy behind us slams the gate. Devlan dismounts. “Don’t move until I get back,” he says before running toward the wall. Grabbing up a bow, he shoots arrows at the monster.

Shakily, I nudge Fireblood to turn and face the fight. It’s chaos. The wolf hurdles back and forth, higher than any animal I’ve ever seen jump, dodging arrows. The arrows that do connect glance off its hide. Finally, one hits its mark—the beast’s soft underbelly. It howls, the sound sending a tremor down my spine.

As the beast tries to retreat back into the woods, the Rebels take up their swords and climb the wall, going after it. The Rebels surround the mutated wolf, their weapons raised, and attack.

The giant jaws of the monster snap at them. Then someone slices its jowl, while another strikes a tendon above one massive paw. Its mouth hangs loosely, and the monster limps away before it falls to the earth.

Devlan stands over it and sinks his sword into its chest. The beast releases one last distorted howl, gurgling out its death rattle.

I’ve been locked away for only a day, and the world has gone mad.

Once Devlan reaches me, he tosses his blood-coated sword to the ground. “Zara,” he says, worry lacing his voice. But he says nothing else, and I know there’s nothing he can say. He wraps his arms around me, and I cling to him as he lowers me off the horse.

As we make our way toward a tent, I glance around at the changed camp. It’s become a battlefield headquarters. Weapons and tables with maps and gear are set up all over, fires burning to light the darkness as Rebels plan tactics and strategies.

Devlan holds back a flap, and I enter the dark tent. He helps me to the cot before striking a match to light a candle and setting it on a small desk. “I need to tend to your wounds.”

He walks over to a canvas bag and takes out a gray tunic. I reach behind my back to unlace the backing of my mangled wedding dress and wince at the pain that small action causes. His hands clasp mine, and he lowers them to my thighs, wrapping his arms around me.

His arms linger, holding me for a moment before he begins to loosen the backing. Pulling the still-intact shoulder of my dress down, he slides the top to my waist. Then he carefully lifts my arms and slips the tunic over my head.

“Lie down.” He gently guides me to recline on the soft blanket, then pulls my dress past my hips and casts it to the corner. “You have no idea how badly I wanted that dress off of you.”

A small frown tugs at my lips. When he’s done mending me, I’m going to toss it into one of the fires.

Lifting the front of the tunic, his eyes roam over my stomach. “Bastard.” He releases a heavy breath, then says, “If you hadn’t ended him, I would have.”

My eyebrows knit together, and I stare at his pained face, the candlelight flickering in his eyes. “How did you hear?” How is it he seems to know all that’s happened to me, yet I’ve heard nothing of him since the night we said our goodbye in the tunnel?

He gets to his feet and gathers supplies from his desk. He sets everything near the cot—a rag, a bottle of alcohol, a bowl of water, bandages, and adhesive. Then he kneels down beside me. “First drink some water.” He grabs a canteen and places it to my mouth.

When the water hits my mouth, my body remembers how thirsty I am, and I can’t get enough. I guzzle, not caring how desperate I look.

“Slowly,” he says, lowering it from my lips. “You’ll get sick if you take in too much.” He sighs before answering my question. “Fallon had her transmission person hack into the court feed. They were able to view everything that happened in Court.”

“You watched me kill Larkin.”

“I saw a replay.”

My face burns, shame flowing through me that I can’t bury at that moment.

“You should’ve heard the cheers go up in camp. I think there were bets on who would be the one to take him out.”

I know he’s trying to make me feel better about my actions, so I give him a small, reassuring smile, though my chest aches. I never want to kill another person if I can avoid it.

He leans closer to me. “I was at the meadow during it all, setting up last-minute communications for reinforcements if we needed them.” His eyes close. “If I’d have known—”

“No, Devlan.” I run my hand along his tense arm. “I made the decision. Nothing that happened was anyone’s fault but my own.”

He opens his eyes, and his features relax. “You made the right call, Zara.” He smoothes my hair away from my face. “Sebastian fooled me, too. He never would’ve joined with the Rebels, no matter how you tried to sway him. It was a lost cause.” He reaches for the rag. “Before the tournament match, I was on the cusp of trusting him, but those days between us are long gone.”

“So, I’m not a failure?”

The rag hovers just above my skin, and his eyes hold mine. “Hardly a failure. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost you.” His eyes flick down my body, then back to my face. Warmth rushes through me. “All that matters is you’re safe, and you’re still the willful girl I trained.” He tilts his head. “Though, that’s easier to admit when you’re half-naked in my tent.”

I bat his arm and wince. “I think I trained you some,” I say. “Now, fix me up so I can train you some more.”

A half-grin creeps up the side of his face, and he winks.

He places a pill on my tongue and makes me swallow, promising it will help with the pain. It does, but only a fraction. A chill sweeps over my body as he massages the wet cloth into my wound, cleaning away the infection, dirt, and debris. The alcohol is like fire searing me from the inside, but I try to keep my face stoic as he works, as it seems my pain hurts him more than me.

When he’s done mending my wounds, he slides next to me on the blanket and wraps his arms around me. I press my forehead to his, listening to his breath as it caresses my lips.

Safe.

“What happens now?” I ask.

“Now,” he says, cradling me closer. “I never leave your side again.”

THIRTY-SIX

I
pull a swig of water and swallow one of the pills Devlan gave me, then recap my canteen. After I finish the last four over the next two days, my infection should be gone. My fever broke this morning, and already I’m feeling much stronger. Devlan said that my attempt at keeping my stomach wound clean in the Oubliette saved me from a harsh recovery. Small blessings.

The sky slowly fades from purple to dark blue as I stare up in wonderment. The faint blue lines run against it, doming the air above. My gaze drops and then drifts over the forest as dawn breaks. The rays of early sunlight splinter through the forest canopy.

A howl sounds in the distance, and I wrap my arms around my body. Light footsteps crunch the earth near me. They’re too soft to be Devlan’s.

“Devlan held back many details last night,” I say as Fallon sits down next to me. “I admit I was exhausted, and wounded, but Sebastian raising the barrier is too big a detail to deny me simply for the sake of my health.”

Fallon tosses a stick into the fire before us. “Larkin’s decoding disk didn’t hold up against Excalibur, and shortly after you were taken to the Oubliette, Sebastian restored Karm’s force field.”

I nod. Maybe Larkin never intended for his device to take it down permanently. I remember him rushing with the vials of antidote to rescue his sister, the Virus already taking hold in his body. Now I believe it was a desperate attempt to save her and himself before his mind was taken. Which means he had it planned all along.

“So, that hellish day would’ve happened no matter which path I chose.” I look at her.

Her dark hair is down around her shoulders. It’s longer than I imagined. She looks younger like this. Her soft features press into hard lines. “It would have, Zara. No one faults you.” She sighs. “However, the force field was down long enough for monsters to wander into Karm. The Rebel camp is near the outskirts, so it was the first to be attacked. Then the monsters roamed into the country, wreaking havoc on farms and laborers working the fields. And then the chaos reached the town limits, where Sebastian commanded the Force and his army of knights to drive them into the forest.”

“And the citizens? How many have lost their lives?” I hold my breath, hoping Hadley is all right and her family found a safe hiding place.

Fallon’s eyes find mine, large and sad. “Many. Maybe around twenty or more. We’re still waiting to hear a report of the exact number and names.”

I lower my head, lost as to what to say. I set my canteen down in the dirt, digging the bottom into the earth near the campfire. My wedding dress sizzles next to me, beads and sequins popping as smoke billows into the frosty morning air.

Someone shouts, and both Fallon and I whip our heads around. I expect to see another mutated animal attacking, but Rebels are running for the Mordred tent. Getting to my feet, I brace my stomach with my arm to soften the jolting from my footsteps, then follow after them. The flaps are pulled back to expose the monitors and machines inside.

Devlan walks up beside us. “A transmission from Town Square is coming through. It’s broadcasting all over Karm.”

He links his arm around my waist, and moves me closer to the tent as static echoes through the camp. Fallon takes off toward the back of the tent, where Xander and Silas are adjusting the transmission.

“I thought Xander stayed behind?” I ask Devlan.

“His cover is still in place,” he says absently, his eyes roaming the tent. “Now that our transmission has been shut down, he’s our only link to information from Court. We have no one else on the inside, and no other way to know what Sebastian is planning.”

I can’t help but feel it would be best if Xander didn’t go back at all. Sebastian now knows Rebels were right by his side—the people he most trusted. Xander is risking too much by being our eyes and ears.

Following Devlan’s gaze, I look to the one large monitor that’s set up in the middle of the tent. Blue and green lines wash over it in waves, then an image appears on the screen.

Sebastian.

He’s wearing King Hart’s crown—no, his crown now. And even through the screen I can see his golden eyes. They flicker on the monitor, making my skin prickle as his gaze seems to travel over me. His expression is set, hard. Behind him, the buildings of Town Square puff smoke into the sky, seemingly normal, as if everyone is working and it’s just another day in the market.

“Greetings, citizens of Karm,” he says, and Devlan pulls me tighter to his side. “I apologize for the urgency and quickness of this transmission, but there is no time for pleasantries.” He pauses. “Many things need to be addressed, although I assure you, Karm is under my complete control.” He glares into the camera, and I feel as if he’s looking straight at me. “The barrier is restored, and the beasts of Outside have been forced toward the outskirts of Karm. However, you’re advised to stay near your homes until the Force rids us of every last one.”

I survey the faces of the Rebels. The camp, their home, soon will be invaded by the Force looking to kill the monsters. I realize the camp is now my home, too. I take in a deep breath, and my stomach aches at the pressure.

Sebastian smiles. Not the smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes, the one I used to feel assured by, but a knowing leer that makes me shiver. “But,” he says, “the monsters are not our only enemies. My father was murdered by conspirators against the throne. He was murdered by Rebels.”

My heart drops, and I look up. Devlan’s expression is guarded as he stares at the screen, hiding all emotions. But I can feel the tremble of anger in his body.

“And, as my father didn’t tolerate insolence,” Sebastian continues, “neither shall I.”

The screen pans the market, coming to a stop on the middle of the square, on the platform.

The air leaves my lungs.

A wooden scaffold towers over the platform. Five citizens are strung up. They balance on footstools, nooses tied around their necks. I grab Devlan’s hand and squeeze as the camera zooms closer, showing their faces.
No
.

Madity.

“Anyone found to be conspiring with the Rebels forfeits their life,” Sebastian says. Then he shouts, “Hang!”

Two knights in crimson move behind the citizens and then, one at a time, kick the footstools from beneath their feet. Madity is in the middle, and when the knight reaches her, I bury my head in Devlan’s chest, tears already forming.