Rise of Fire Page 5

  I lied to Luna, too. The contrary thought slipped inside my head. I wasn’t the most forthcoming person either, but I would never hurt her.

  These men . . . they were capable of anything. Luna had a bounty on her. They could decide to take her head at any moment.

  “We’re close now. Ainswind is just half a day’s ride.” No one answered my question.

  I stayed my tongue, wincing and holding my dying arm close to my chest. Half a day. Bleakness rose inside me. How was I getting us out of this in that span of time?

  The smaller man continued talking from behind Luna, his voice deceptively amiable. “It was good luck to find you and the boy here.” My shoulders practically slumped in relief. They didn’t know she was a girl. That was one less worry. For now.

  The Lagonian soldier was still talking, and I concentrated on his voice. “Imagine our surprise to find you with him. In your condition, no less.” At these words, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled. He made it sound like he was surprised to see me specifically. “We’ll see you mended. No fear, Your Highness. You’re in good hands.”

  His words hit me with a jolt. Cold dripped down my back and settled into my spine. He’d see me mended, but my arrival in Lagonia would be no secret. My father would know. He’d come for me eventually. I was his heir. As far as he was concerned, that meant I was his property.

  The man leaned around Luna, his gaze clashing with mine across the distance separating us, pinning me with the hard truth.

  He knew.

  Grinning, he nodded to a spot ahead. “Let’s rest the horses here.” He dug in his heels and hastened ahead of us. We fell into pace behind him and Luna. I stared after him, trying to remember where I had seen him before. He knew me, so I must have seen him somewhere, but I couldn’t place his shadowy face.

  It all clicked into place. I understood why he was even bothering to bring me back to Ainswind. I was a commodity—the prince of Relhok to be hand delivered to King Tebald. My hope for escape died a swift death. He wasn’t going to let me slip away. Not considering who I was. But perhaps Luna could. Luna was just a boy to him.

  We stopped near a grove of trees. I dismounted with little grace, my arm hugged to my chest. Even with it immobilized, every movement sent pain ricocheting through me.

  Luna was at my side, moving hastily. Her lack of sight was another thing they didn’t know about her. That was for the best, too. Better that they not see her as impaired in any way.

  “I’ve got you,” she murmured near my ear, and I grimaced as we hobbled toward the tree, needing her help more than I should. It wasn’t supposed to be that way. I was supposed to protect her. That’s what I’d promised to Sivo when we left the tower.

  “You shouldn’t be doing this,” I whispered, anger frothing, mingling with the pain bubbling in me.

  “Doing what?” she asked, turning her head slightly, listening to the three men behind us. Always careful, always vigilant.

  “Helping me,” I growled. “You need to look after yourself.”

  “Like you did when you saved my life, oh, at least a dozen times? I actually think we’re pretty good at saving each other.”

  I didn’t acknowledge that she might have a point. That would only encourage her. I kept a careful gaze on the three soldiers as they stood near the horses. “You have to get out of here, Luna. Before they find out you’re not a boy. I don’t trust them. They’re only taking me to Ainswind because they expect some reward for handing over Cullan’s son. They’re out for themselves. You’d be a prize they couldn’t pass up either. We’re not so far from Relhok. They still could take your head and turn it in for a bounty.”

  She sighed as she wrapped an arm around my waist and helped lower me to the ground. “You worry too much.” Once on the ground, she crouched near me and pressed a palm to my forehead. “You’re still warm. Too warm.”

  I snatched hold of her wrist. “I’m not going to make it—”

  “Don’t say that. They said they have medicine that can cure you.”

  “They’ll say anything. As long as they get me to Ainswind, dead or alive, they’ll be rewarded in some manner.”

  Luna frowned and directed a look back at the soldiers as if she could see them. It was always eerie the way she did that. To these men it made her look normal, fully sighted, but I knew Luna was anything but normal. Even over the pain buzzing along every nerve, pain that ran so deep and intense it made my teeth ache, my gut tightened thinking about her and just how not normal she was. She was special. An anomaly. She shouldn’t even be alive, but she was. She lived, and I wanted to pull her inside me, absorb her and keep her until I knew her as well as the shape and protrusion of my own bones. Until the taste of her was as clear to me as my own.

  But none of that would happen. It couldn’t.

  “I’m not leaving you here,” she vowed.

  Still holding her wrist, I pulled her close until her face was almost nose-to-nose with mine. She winced at the pressure of my hand on her arm, but I didn’t relax my grip. I had to make her understand. “Don’t let them take you into the city, Luna.”

  “You need to rest, Fowler.” She peeled my fingers off her arm. “Don’t think about it. I can handle this.”

  I knotted one fist and beat it dully against the ground. “What’s it going to take for you to do what I say just this once?”

  She opened her mouth, but whatever she was going to say died abruptly. Rising to her feet, she whirled around suddenly.

  I gripped the end of her tunic and gave a tug. “What is—”

  She cut a hand through the air, silencing me. “Hear that?” she said, her voice so low it was practically inaudible.

  I held still, listening, trying to decipher what it was she heard, but my ears weren’t as good as hers. No one’s were. Well, except perhaps for dwellers themselves. She shared that with them.

  Several moments passed, but there was no telltale shriek that signaled the approach of a dweller. Exhaling, she crouched back down at my side. She’d cleaned her face. The freckles stood out starkly against her milk-pale features as she closed a hand around my good arm. “Horses are coming this way. Half a dozen at least.”

  I squeezed her wrist with hard fingers and studied her with an urgency I hope she felt. “This is your chance. Go. Slip away.”

  She shook her head at me, her voice a fierce hiss. “You wouldn’t leave me. I’m not leaving you.”

  “Is that what this is? Some stubbornness contest? Well, enough of it, Luna. You win. When you get an opportunity, you go. Don’t look back. You run.”

  She made a sound of frustration. “No . . . “

  The distant sound of hooves stopped all conversation then. Blades sang out on the air as the soldiers with us took position, drawing their weapons and standing in front of us. I tugged on her arm, signaling that this was the moment she should go. They weren’t even looking at either one of us, too focused on the impending arrivals. She could slip away. They probably wouldn’t bother to give chase. After all, I was the prize.

  I struggled to rise, huffing out a pained breath, pushing the flat of my good hand down on the ground. My head spun with a surge of dizziness, but I managed not to topple over. Luna was there, of course, ignoring my command, wrapping an arm around my waist for support. Half the time I didn’t think she needed me. That she did now, when I couldn’t be all that I should be, all I had to be, for us to survive . . . it killed a part of me.

  “You should stay resting,” she reprimanded.

  I shook my head once, ignoring her as she ignored me. I wasn’t going to be on my back, defenseless against whatever was headed our way.

  Sweat beaded my brow and my limbs trembled but I stayed on my feet. The horses materialized from the darkness, at first smudges of gray shapes against the moonlit night.

  They moved with practiced stealth. As with all trained horses, they had been taught covertness. They even kept their heads relatively still so that there was no jingle from their ha
rnesses. As they drew close, their hooves beat a muffled cadence on the soil. The shapes of the men atop the animals grew more distinct. They were armed to the teeth and with superior weaponry, too.

  Luna’s hand slid down my arm, stopping at my wrist. Her slim fingers circled my thicker bones, clinging to me as though she needed me right then and not the other way around. It made my chest tighten and swell a little. Even as sick as I was, as helpless, it made me feel useful.

  From the very beginning, from the moment Sivo had foisted her on me, I knew I would probably fail her. No one lived long on the Outside. No one lived long with me especially. History had taught me that. I knew this. I’d accepted it.

  It didn’t, however, stop my will to fight.

  SEVEN

  Luna

  THEY NUMBERED CLOSER to ten. I didn’t hear them until they were almost upon us, which was a testament to how good, how quiet, these riders were at maneuvering around in the Outside. They had adapted to this world. As one did. Adapt or die.

  They wore the same chain mail as the other men accompanying us. I could hear the faint grind of metal beneath their tunics as they shifted their weight atop their mounts. A well-rested energy hummed about them. Their bodies were mostly clean. A hint of mint and sandalwood soap clung to them. They didn’t smell ripe of the Outside as we did. As everyone else I had ever encountered did. There was none of the loam and bitter metal that always seemed to find its way onto my tongue. They lived nearby. Someplace warm and dry and dweller free. Someplace safe.

  My breath came a little faster as they stopped before our group. Fowler gave my arm a tug and turned to me, whispering, “Slip behind me.”

  Anger slicked through me. He still sought to protect me when he was the one mortally wounded? “Stop it,” I hissed at him. The least he could do was trust me. After everything, he could give me that.

  For three days I had traveled with these soldiers, caring for Fowler, not giving away the fact that I was a girl. Did that not count for something? Could he not have more faith in me?

  I’d managed well enough while he slept, blissfully unaware of our situation. They would get Fowler to safety—get him the care he needed. It was his only chance. Once he was healed, I could slip away and continue on to Relhok as I needed to do. That hadn’t changed, but I had to see that Fowler survived. I didn’t allow myself to consider that I was putting Fowler ahead of the rest of the world . . . ahead of all the girls who fell even now, prey to Cullan’s kill order. I didn’t permit myself to question the rightnesss of that. There was no choice.

  I could not allow Fowler to die. Later, I would let him go, but I wouldn’t let him die.

  The soldiers who had found us relaxed. Tension ebbed from them as they lowered their weapons and greeted the new arrivals with warm familiarity. Evidently they were fellow Lagonians.

  “Your Highness, out on a hunt?” Breslen asked, his tone and manner that of total deference.

  My heart struck a hard beat and held there for a moment before receding again into a normal rhythm. Your Highness? As in the king of Lagonia? He dared to leave the safety of the palace to travel the Outside?

  There was a slight shift in the air and then dull vibrations on the ground as the three men escorting us dismounted and lowered to one knee.

  I listened raptly, fascinated at the prospect of meeting the man who ruled Lagonia. He’d known my parents. Sivo and Perla were the only people I knew who had known my parents.

  “Breslen, good to see you returned safely. We were beginning to worry.” The leather of his saddle creaked as he shifted his weight. “Although there were two more of you that originally set out, were there not?”

  I frowned slightly at the sound of his voice. He did not sound like a man of advanced years. Deep as his voice was, he sounded young, his voice smooth polished stone. Even without Breslen addressing him so formally I would know he was important. His words flowed with authority.

  “Sad to report they were lost, Your Highness.”

  “Well, perhaps next time I shall go with you and lend you my sword arm.”

  Another voice from atop a horse spoke, this one older, guttural and raspy. “As much as they would benefit from your sword, I do not think your father would permit that, Prince Chasan. He dislikes the risk you take on these hunting forays as it is. He’ll not let you cross into Relhok.”

  So he was not the king. He could not have known my parents. My chest deflated a bit then, even as my thoughts raced with the realization that he was a prince, heir to a kingdom. Like me. Or, depending how one viewed it, like Fowler. No one recognized me as a royal. The world thought I was dead.

  The prince chuckled. “Don’t underestimate my skills of persuasion.” There was something underlying his voice, a silky quality that indicated that this prince in fact knew how to talk. Confidence radiated from him. Arrogance, too. He was accustomed to getting what he wanted—an anomaly in a world where nothing went right for anyone.

  He addressed Breslen again. “It appears, however, you’ve gained two additions to your group. Who is that behind you?”

  Fowler’s hand slipped from my arm as all attention swung to us.

  “We happened upon them returning home, Your Highness. A surprise for your father.”

  “Why should my father be surprised over these two haggard-looking individuals? The bigger one there looks ready to collapse.”

  “He’s the surprise, Your Highness.”

  “And how is that?”

  “He’s King Cullan’s son. Prince Fowler.”

  Fowler had held silent during the exchange, but at this declaration he stiffened beside me. I suspected it had been a long time since he’d considered himself a prince—or Cullan’s son. Perhaps even longer since anyone addressed him as such.

  Prince Chasan swung off his mount swiftly. He strode to where we stood near the tree, his tread muffled by soft-soled boots. He stopped before us. I listened to his breath several inches higher than my head and knew he was tall. “So this is the prince of Relhok. He doesn’t look well,” the prince announced. “Is he diseased?”

  “He is right here,” Fowler growled. “I can speak for myself.”

  “Is that so?” Amusement curled the prince’s silky voice. “Are you unwell, then, Prince Fowler? As thrilled as my father will be to make your acquaintance, I don’t think it wise to take someone sick near him. My father is healthy and I would like to keep him that way.”

  I bristled at his arrogant tone and opened my mouth to inform him that he need not fear contamination.

  “Just a little dweller toxin in the arm,” Fowler replied in a caustic-thin voice that did nothing to disguise the pain he felt. I felt it radiating off him. Standing on two feet, enduring this conversation with any semblance of dignity, was costing him.

  “Oh. Toxin? That’s all? I thought it might be something serious.” The prince’s attendants laughed deeply at his sarcastic remarks, and I had a flash of him at court, surrounded by groveling courtiers. He was accustomed to being the center of attention, his every word applauded. My upper lip twitched. Already I did not like him.

  “They told us the king’s physician can help him. Cure him,” I bit out, tired of the conversation. We weren’t far from the palace, from help, and here we stood talking.

  The prince of Lagonia turned his full attention on me. I felt the prowl of his gaze over me. His scrutiny lasted several beats, intent and heavy. I resisted shrinking away.

  “And who are you?”

  I couldn’t find my voice at the simple question. I hadn’t picked a fake name. In the last three days, it hadn’t been necessary. No one asked me for my name. They didn’t seem to care about my existence. Only Fowler’s.

  Tension radiated from Fowler beside me and I knew he was willing me to say something, and quickly—convince everyone that I was just a boy and no one worth consideration.

  “They’re friends,” Breslen answered for me. “He was traveling with the prince when we found them.”

&
nbsp; “Indeed?” Prince Chasan murmured, his voice closer now because he had moved closer to me and I had not even heard him. What was wrong with me?

  My chin went up. He was so close. I felt his breath on my face, fanning over my cheek and nose and lips. I caught more of the mint I had smelled earlier. “Are you absolutely certain, Breslen, that you’ve found the prince of Relhok? Because I have my doubts.”

  Fowler’s breath hitched a little beside me. I don’t know if it was the question or because Prince Chasan lifted his hand right then and tugged my cap from my head, exposing my mud-caked hair to the chilled air.

  “Your Highness, I am certain,” Breslen insisted as I suffered the prince’s examination. My skin burned everywhere his gaze brushed—which was all over. “I remember him well from the two other times I visited Relhok City. He put on quite the memorable archery display at court. He’s an exceptional archer. I’m sure once he’s healed he can put on a demonstration for us. Also, I never forget a face. He’s a little older, his face more gaunt, but it’s him.”

  The prince stepped back, apparently done examining me. My shoulders slumped slightly in relief to be finished with his scrutiny. He gave a grunt that didn’t sound entirely convinced. “I can hardly see his face beneath the scruff. He needs a good razor. I’m sure he did not look like this at King Cullan’s court. Can you not be mistaken?”

  His arrogant tone pricked at me. I knew he was born to privilege and all the honors of his rank, and it stood to reason he should sound so haughty. It shouldn’t bother me. And yet it did.

  Being born to privilege didn’t mean you had to be full of such arrogance. Fowler didn’t sound or act that way.

  I couldn’t stop myself. I spoke up. “He is who he claims. We’re not lying.” Hot defiance draped my words.