Chapter 8
Messer’s gaze locks on mine as soon as I step onto the dining hall’s platform, and we each make a beeline for the other. My eyes shift when I spot the deep purple bruise shading his jaw, the mottled skin continuing
beneath the collar of his shirt.
“Messer,” I utter, taking him in.
He shakes his head, eyes going to guards nearby before pulling me into the food line. We carry our plates to the furthest part of the platform, overlooking the ocean and giving us a perfect view of the Kenta ship still moored on the horizon.
We’ve been on a temporary lockdown since the ship’s arrival and this is the first time I’ve seen him in three days.
I wait until a guard walks past before pinning Messer with my eyes.
“What happened?”
“He caught me sneaking out, but I’m fine.” He stabs the eggs on his plate. “Have you spoken to Kai?” he asks, stepping over the conversation about his father.
I’m surprised he admitted as much. Training has been put on hold for the time being, so there’s nothing else to blame for the injuries, like he usually does. I can’t say there’s anyone I harbor more hatred for than I do for Messer’s father.
Messer’s eyes all but beg for me to let it go, so I do, forcing myself to take a bite of food and swallow before answering.
“No. Have you?”
He surveys the crowded platform, lips thinning in worry as he shakes his head. “I haven’t seen Aurora either.”
“You haven’t … heard anything from your father?” His father is third in command, next in rank to Dupre. He’s definitely in the know as to what’s going on.
He shakes his head. “He’s not exactly happy with me right now.”
“There are what, thirty? Forty men on that ship?”
He eyes the blurry silhouette on the horizon. “If that.”
“They’d be cut down before ever stepping foot in the grove.”
“I don’t think they’re here for retribution,” he says.
“They’ve been sending out birds every day. Do you think Wren was being honest about the terms Kenta gave us?”
“I don’t know what to think,” he says, glancing up at me. “But I know they’re keeping a tight perimeter around the north tower, so they still have that Kenta soldier in custody.”
Another guard makes his round, passing by our table.
“You know how I used that soldier’s blade?” I don’t need to elaborate.
Messer loads his fork and shoves it into his mouth, nodding without looking at me.
I keep my eyes on the food as I speak under my breath. “I may still have it.”
There’s a definitive pause from his side of the table before he’s able to regain his composure. He takes a swallow from his waterskin, then addresses my confession.
“Get rid of it,” he says, voice absolute, no room for negotiation.
I know any of the excuses I’d give him for not having done so already would be feeble. I’ve spent every waking moment since the Kenta soldier’s arrival worried sick about Alaha guards storming my shiel and finding evidence of my thievery, but I haven’t been able to make myself do it.
It doesn’t matter that I admire the black blade and the craftsmanship that went into it. It’s not a keepsake nor mine to begin with, so I dip my head in acquiescence.
We eat as slowly as we can while waiting to see if Kai will appear for breakfast, but time runs out and we have to report for training. Although the
grove is attempting to return to some sense of normality, people congregate in clusters, their whispers floating through the leaves of the trees on the wind. The Main is open. Shop doors are propped open, but no one is shopping today. The clerks linger in the doorways as people pass by.
There’s a game of piranha happening. Kids giggle and scatter from the two chosen as the attack fish. They’ll tag others in a bid to grow their school of hunters, but as we descend upon the group the lack of enthusiasm is evident, their voices quieter, laughter less joyful. Messer leaps into the fray, throwing his arms around a few of them at once, causing a ruckus of screams to break out. He helps them to chase down the remainder of the free fish until there are none left.
Shirlane, the primary school teacher, comes to admonish Messer and the children, her coiffed hair and steely eyes as scary as they were when we were children. Bowing his head, Messer dips out, but not without a smile hanging from his lips.
His deviation causes us to have to rush the remainder of the way to the paddocks. The bell of the clock tower chimes nine times, indicating the changing of shifts and the end of breakfast.
Gramble is already barking orders when we reach the top step. “Give me a hundred for being late,” he says, pointing to the dirty arena floor.
Due to the temporary lockdown on the grove, no one has scrubbed the arena in days, but there’s no time to contemplate the dung and urine coating the ground as we fall straight into conditioning. I give Messer a less-than- pleased glare, muck sliding through my fingers with every down movement. He at least looks repentant.
I’m thirty-seven push-ups into my set when Gramble calls my name.
Sitting back on my knees, I look up to find him and Dupre standing at the entrance.
The scary-looking commander gestures for me to come with a wave of his hand.
Messer lifts a questioning brow at me, and I shake my head in response.
I concentrate on picking up my pack and placing one foot in front of the other. Dupre doesn’t speak a word as he turns and leads me down the stairs of the paddock. I grab a water skin and rinse my hands on the way down.
Captain Wren awaits at the bottom. “Brynn,” he greets me. There’s a polite smile on his face, but there’s a note of seriousness underlying it. “I apologize for having to pull you from training, but I’m in need of you.”
“Of course,” I say, hoping I seem amenable despite the desire to flee
coursing through my veins.
“This way.”
I’m ushered to walk in front as we take the path toward the north tower.
Kai comes into view outside the brig, and his scowl doesn’t do anything to ease my quivering nerves. The captain stops me with a hand on my shoulder, and I fight the urge to step out of his reach. He turns me toward him while we’re still out of hearing range of the cell.
He senses my hesitation. “No one is in trouble.” He smiles, giving me reassurance. “I’ve brought you here because I need you to speak to the
soldier.”
I’m taken aback. “Me?”
“Yes. All inquiries we’ve sent to the Kenta ship have gone unreturned, and the soldier is adamant that the only person he’ll speak to is you.”
I look back at Kai, but he gives nothing away.
“All you need to do is go in there and listen to what he came here to say,” says the captain, drawing my attention again. “He might try to manipulate or bait you into getting emotional, but don’t let him.”
“To be clear,” I say, holding his gaze. “You want me to go in there and … listen?”
By the slight flicker in his expression, I can tell there’s more before he speaks again. “The Kenta have an armada of ships that we need the location
of.”
“You think they’re headed here?”
“I don’t know,” he says, eyes going to the lone ship on the horizon. “But we need to know if this soldier and the soldiers on that ship are rebels of their own making, or … or if we need to be prepared for something else.”
This is a lot of pressure. The thought of speaking to the soldier sends a fissure of equal parts excitement and unease down my spine. My chest is tight and my heart pounds, but I can’t possibly say no, not to the captain’s request or, for the sake of my people.
“Okay,” I tell him.
Captain Wren smiles. It’s so rare to see it directed towards me that it stuns me for a moment, but there’s no time to soak it in before I’m marching toward Kai.
He’s dressed in his commander’s uniform. “I’m going in with you.” I nod, relieved.
“If you want to leave at any moment, say so and we will.”
I can’t find any words, so I simply nod again, hiding the shake in my hands as I fist them at my sides.
Kai reaches for the iron door handle, but one of the guards stops him with a hand on his chest. “No weapons inside.”
Confused, Kai looks down at his sword, then at his father. Captain Wren gives him an affirming nod to obey, and Kai unbuckles the weapon from his waist and hands it over.
“Sorry, sir, but no weapons inside,” the guard orders again.
Kai goes still, as do I when I watch him lift the material of his shirt from his less dominant side and produce a dagger.
It’s a prohibited weapon.
Wren looks less than pleased by his son’s insubordination, but no one says a word as Kai holds the weapon by the blade for the guard to take.
Reaching for my hand, Kai laces his fingers with mine. “Ready?”
I let his steady presence center me, taking a deep breath before nodding to the guards. They open the door and Kai steps in first, body angled in front of mine as he leads me inside.
The smell hits me first, worse than the paddocks. The kind of stench that seeps into every pore of your lungs, a constant reminder of the human condition.
Nothing could have prepared me for the stark difference between the last time I saw him and now. One eye is nearly swollen shut, the other bloodshot around the pupil, with a deep cut slashing across the brow. His nose is scabbed over where his nose ring once was.
It hurts for me to lock eyes with him.
He smiles, teeth stark white against his bruised skin. “It’s nice to see you again.” Even though the words are directed toward Kai, we both know
he meant it for me.
Only me.
The familiar bang of the cell door closing sounds behind us. We’re locked in with the soldier.
I do my best to put on a brave face. “Wish I could say the same.”
His nostrils flare, eyes heating as he looks from me to Kai. “The Alaha work their young guards with the animals?”
There’s no mistaking the smell of cow shit clinging to me and I hate the humiliation threatening to make itself known through the burning in my cheeks.
“Be careful casting judgment.” Kai’s words are coated with ice. “We’re limited on space, so we’re forced to use the paddocks as a training arena.”
His stare lingers on Kai. “Can you explain why this cell was covered in her scent when I arrived here?”
Shock spikes through my system. He could smell—surely not. A guard had to have let it slip, or he overheard a conversation. I look to Kai, but his gaze remains on the soldier, glaring at him like he’s little more than scum on his boot.
“We’re not here to explain ourselves to you.”
“That’s right. We have a deal.” The soldier turns his dark eyes back on me. “I wanted to apologize.” His voice is level, without a trace of hidden meaning behind it. Or it’s hidden very well.
Either way, it’s unsettling.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you that day in the Market. I’ve never experienced that pain myself, but I’ve heard stories of it, and none of them are pleasant.”
I think about it all the time. How it felt like something living, like another entity invaded my body for the split second of connection I had to the earth. It’s strange—because it happened so fast it almost doesn’t seem real anymore, like maybe it never happened at all.
“It couldn’t be any worse than if you’d taken off my hand instead.” He lifts a brow. “Or worse than what has happened to you here.”
He severs the connection between us, eyes going to Kai, and my gaze follows, realization dawning.
“Kai?” I step forward so he’s forced to look at me. I grab his arm.
He stops me with a hand over mine where I grip his shirt. “He’s manipulating you, Brynn.”
The captain warned me he’d do this, try to get in my head and confuse me. Embarrassing, really, to let him do it so easily. I turn my attention back to the disheveled prisoner. He’s watching us both closely, eyes lingering on the way Kai’s hand covers mine.
I release my hold, suddenly eager to get out of this cell. “Where is the armada?”
The dark-eyed soldier settles back against the wall, head propped against the stacked stones. “The largest portion is moored in Oldtide Bay.
They keep a ship or two at the Market, a few remaining out at sea. They switch out from time to time, but it’s difficult to say when that’ll be.”
Well, that was easy. Too easy … But Kai seems satisfied, already leading me to the door by my elbow, knocking to signal the guards outside that we’re done. I dare a glance at the soldier before I’m ushered out. I’m either more gullible than I thought or there’s something like unfettered concern in his eyes as he watches us leave.
“Until next time, Brynn.”
The way he says my name, the last letter lingering on the tip of his tongue, sends a spike of fear through me.
He says it like he’s not finished with me.
