Treason: Book Two of the Grimoire Saga (a Young Adult Fantasy series) (15 page)

“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 survivors 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 remark. 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.”