The Offering (9 page)

“I—I just need more time. To figure things out,” I stammered.

“What
things
? There's nothing to think about. Queen Elena has made her intentions clear. We saw what she did to Xander, and you said it yourself—she has no interest in negotiating.” She cocked her head. “Unless there's something else, something you're not telling me.”

“I'm still your queen!” I shouted the words, drawing the guard's attention and Brook's as well.

Her eyes went wide as her gaze moved nervously to the guard, who took a hesitant step toward us.

I shook my head at him, my heart tripping over itself inside my chest. He fell back, and I turned to Brook, taking a breath and softening my tone, finding
my own
voice again. “I'm sorry,” I said, hating how many times I'd had to say that recently, all because of Sabara. “But what more could there be?”

Brook exhaled as she considered my words, and my apology. She pursed her lips, trying to decide whether or not to believe me. My heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest, and my mouth went dry. After several long moments she finally nodded. “Don't take too long. I don't imagine Queen Elena will waver, and it would be better for the war to start on Astonian soil than on ours.”

I tried to imagine how either was acceptable, but simply dipped my head in return. Brook took the gesture as my promise to get back to her about whether I would consent to starting a war with Astonia.

She spun on her heel, and I watched longingly as she paced away from me, and I wished we could start this whole conversation over. Wished we could go back to talking about her father so I could tell her, again, how sorry I was. Wished I could tell her everything about the message from Elena, and how I felt myself getting lost in Sabara. But I was unwilling to let Brook get caught up in my plan to save myself.

I pressed my hand to the wood, feeling for something, although I wasn't sure what that something was. The guard in the hallway ignored me; they were accustomed to my nighttime escapades. I was a restless sleeper, with Sabara waking me, and keeping me up, far too often. I'd become an unofficial member of the night watch.

Straining, I tried to sense Max somewhere on the other side of the door, to hear him maybe. But I was certain he was already sleeping, as was most everyone at this hour. I leaned my cheek
against the cool barrier that separated us, wishing I could say a proper good-bye—the way I had with Angelina.

But Max was different. Max would try to stop me.

A part of me wanted him to; stopping was the logical course of action, because what I was doing—me and Eden—it was crazy. Even I knew as much. But that other part of me, the part that could no longer bear sharing myself with Sabara . . .

It was worth the risk.

But this was huge, the chance I was taking. It wasn't just my life, or Eden's or Sabara's lives on the line here. I was about to abandon my throne. I was leaving my country at a time when everything was topsy-turvy. That's how it would seem at least, to those who didn't understand that I was doing this not just for me but for them as well. Those who didn't understand that my actions might be able to save everyone.

If I stayed, I feared I'd become so enmeshed with Sabara that soon there'd be no distinction as to where one of us started and the other ended.

Still, if I didn't trust those I was leaving behind, I might never take the risk. But I did trust them. Max could handle things here, as could Brooklynn, and Zafir and Claude and my parents. Even Aron, when he returned, had learned a lot, and could manage the engineers and the communications' installations on his own.

I could count on them to make the right choices for Ludania.

I only hoped Max would forgive me when I returned. Or, more to the point,
if
I returned. And if I didn't, I prayed that Max would be okay, and that he wouldn't seek retribution
against the other queen, the one who'd summoned me with promises I hoped she could keep.

Things might have been different if I could have changed the past. If I could have gone back in time and commanded Xander to stay in Ludania in the first place, rather than travel with Niko to Astonia to try to forge peace with Elena. I should've known not to trust her, and now here I was, leaving Max all alone.

My fingers curled into a fist, and I ran it over the door, exercising all my restraint to keep from going inside and climbing into his bed and staying there until morning. Eden and the whole plan be damned.

But I wouldn't do that, because of the message Elena had delivered.

The message that implied there was a way out of my predicament.

v

I jumped when my door opened, and even though I'd been expecting her, seeing her standing there left me speechless.

Sensing her mood was even more amazing.

Eden was electric.

It was like I was standing in the middle of a lightning field, and the best I could hope was that I wouldn't be struck by a stray bolt coming off her.

She no longer looked like the same Eden I'd gone to see just one night ago, the same woman who before that had been shivering and screaming and dripping with sweat when I'd watched my little sister creep into her cramped, utilitarian room to calm her.

She'd shorn her hair, and now half of it, on one side of her head, was cut all the way to her scalp, nearly shaved off. It was only somewhat longer, and spikier, around the top, the way it had been when I'd first encountered her, and then it fell to her chin on the other side. It was a lopsided style, but it was severe and made her look fierce. Like a soldier. Like the old Eden.

And it was purple now too.

Not exactly what I'd call inconspicuous
, I couldn't help thinking. But I trusted Eden, so I didn't give voice to those doubts. She knew what she was doing. It was why I'd gone to her in the first place.

“It's time,” she thundered, not bothering to ask if I was ready or if we were still doing this, simply stating that we were leaving.

“What about the guard? The one outside the door?” I whispered, my voice shades lower than her own had been.

“Already taken care of.”

I wasn't sure what that meant, “Taken care of.” But again I put my faith in her. I grabbed the small bag I'd packed, a worn knapsack I'd brought with me when I'd first come to the palace, one that had belonged to me long before I'd been queen, when I'd been just another student in the Vendor's school. I'd packed only a few items, clothing meant to keep me warm, things I could travel in. I reached for the cloak Eden had insisted I wear, to cover my incessant glow.

It wasn't until we were leaving my room, and I practically fell over a man's prone legs, that I understood what Eden had meant about the guard.

I stared at the poor man, my eyes wide. “What? Is this what you meant?” I searched Eden. Her expression was stern and impassive, as she seemed to be oblivious to the man lying, unconscious, at our feet. She frowned as she waited for me to gather my wits and put together a complete sentence. “What did you do to him?” I finally managed.

She made a face at me, not one that said she was concerned
for the guard's well-being or remorseful for what she'd done, but one that made it clear that she took umbrage at my daring to question her methods. “What did you think? That I'd tell him our plans and he'd just step aside and let us get away scot-free? Surely you knew there'd be casualties in this little operation of yours, Your Majesty.”

“I—of course I knew there'd be casualties,” I sputtered, not really sure I'd considered the implications at all, but now that I was saying it, I knew she was right. “I just didn't expect it to happen so soon.”

“He's fine. He'll have a headache,” she told me, doing a poor job of concealing her eye roll about my distaste for her tactics. “But he'll be fine.” I tried to remember the last time someone had dared to roll their eyes at me, and I realized the gesture didn't offend me as much as it probably should have. It was refreshing, in a way, to be back on even ground with someone again.

Well, not on even ground
, I thought as I stared down at the guard Eden had managed to level, and wondered what else she was capable of doing. I realized that once we left the palace and I abandoned my position as queen, I'd be infinitely more dependent on Eden than she would ever be on me.

“We can't just leave him here,” I insisted. “Come on. Help me drag him inside.” I opened the door to my room, making enough space to pull him through.

Eden didn't wait for my help. She just hoisted his entire dead weight by herself and tossed him through the doorway like he was nothing more substantial than a sack of feathers. He landed on the floor without even stirring, and I worried about just how much damage she'd done to him.

I felt sick leaving him behind like that, but we had no alternative. We couldn't afford to waste any more time. I tried to be more like Eden—tough, and heartless even, and I followed her lead, staying as close to her as I could manage without actually touching her.

Eden seemed to have mapped out our route in advance and knew exactly where we could navigate within the labyrinth of hallways without being discovered. The cloak did its job, and I gave off almost no light at all from beneath the heavy fabric. We became invisible, blending into the very walls themselves. Like shadows.

When we reached the final stretch, the corridor that would lead us to the exit we'd use to make our escape, Eden raised her finger to her lips.

As if she had to warn me to be quiet. I was like a mute already, too afraid to speak. Nearly afraid to breathe for fear the sound of my too-shallow breaths might give us away.

And then I realized it wasn't me she was worried about.

I could tell by the stiffening of her spine and the odd cock of her head that she'd sensed we were no longer alone. She held up her hand in a signal, warning me to stay put. I did as I was told, fear that we'd be discovered making me incapable of being anything but obedient.

I told you that you'd be discovered, Charlaina. I knew your plans would be short-lived
. Sabara's virulent words tried to infiltrate what little composure I had left, and I had to remind myself that she was impotent now. She couldn't harm me.

I watched as Eden faded farther into the shadows until she'd been swallowed up by them completely. Whatever calm
Sabara hadn't managed to crack vanished the moment Eden was out of my sight and I was standing all alone in the darkness with only the insipid flickers coming off my own skin. To call it a glow was laughable. It was feeble at best.

My chest constricted until my breath, which had already been thin and hard to catch, felt like the sheerest of wheezes as it finally found its way to my lips. It grew more labored the longer I stood there, as if the darkness itself were suffocating me.

Just as I was about to strip out of my cloak, to try to at least create more light for myself, I saw Eden emerging once more.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I gasped, lunging toward her inelegantly. But there was something in her expression that stopped me cold in my tracks. “What is it? What's the matter, Eden?”

And then I saw what had her face contorted, why she looked like an animal snared in a trap.

Brooklynn was behind her, matching her stride step for step. There was nothing casual in their pace. From where I stood, I could see the grip Brook had on Eden's wrist, and the way Eden's arm was wrenched low behind her back.

As they came closer, however, everything snapped into place. Eden's elbow was straight, but her arm was twisted at her shoulder, so that if Eden so much as dared to resist Brook's hold, if she tried to break away from Brook, Brook had only to elevate the arm, to torque it the slightest bit. It would send Eden into immediate and extreme agony.

I recognized the move from my own training with Zafir.

I wondered what exactly had transpired in those few
moments when Eden had been out of my sight. I wondered not just why Brook was gripping Eden in that manner, but how she'd managed to get the drop on Eden—who was taller and more muscular—in the first place.

I was reminded again of Zafir's tutoring. Size isn't always the most important thing in battle. Skill—and sometimes surprise—will carry you further than sheer bulk.

“Going somewhere?” Brook questioned, her eyes drilling into me. “Something you forgot to tell me? Some
plan
”—she paused over the word—“you forgot to mention?”

Eden tried to straighten, but Brook rewarded her with a sharp jerk of her arm. Eden's face distorted in a mixture of fury and agony that made every muscle in my body tense in reply. Nausea rolled through me as I waited to see what Eden might do next. I imagined she wanted to rip Brook limb from limb. Instead Eden said, from between gritted teeth, “You weren't invited.”

Brook leaned closer, standing on her tiptoes so she could reach Eden's ear, her own face a study in unwavering resolve. “Well, here's your chance. Invite me now. Because you two aren't leaving these walls without me.”