CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
All the air expelled from Kiva’s lungs as she watched the blade slash toward Jaren.
“NO!” she screamed, but only those nearest to her heard, the music too loud, the crowd too thick. She was too far away to do anything other than stare in horror at what was about to happen.
Zuleeka was fast, her sword streaming through the air.
But Jaren was faster.
Kiva didn’t even see him draw his weapon, but instead of Zuleeka slicing open his torso, there was a shriek of steel as their blades met, the sound loud enough to gather significantly more attention than Kiva’s shout.
Hazy-eyed patrons turned to watch as the rest of the rebels leapt to their feet, all of them unsheathing swords and rushing at Jaren.
He was vastly outnumbered — And then he wasn’t.
Because suddenly Naari was there, her hood flying back to reveal her ferocious expression as she appeared out of the shadows, her two swords blurring through the air.
The Viper — Zuleeka — immediately switched her focus to Naari, as if seeing the Golden Shield as the greater threat. The two of them spun violently around each other while Jaren fought the other rebels, defending not only himself but also the nearest civilians who had begun to realize the danger and were scrambling away. Screams met Kiva’s ears as they panicked, tripping over each other in their haste to get to safety — and those screams only grew when the front door crashed open and a contingent of silver-armored Royal Guards burst into the Red House, led by Captain Veris.
Even the most drug-addled of patrons sobered at the sight, those who were scantily clad reaching for their clothes, and those who were still disguised lowering their hoods further — Kiva included.
She needed to leave, right now.
But before she could blend into the flow of bodies, she saw her sister
notice the guards streaming her way. Zuleeka gave a quick signal to someone out of sight, and in the space of a blink, all the lights went out.
The screams of the patrons became earsplitting, elbows and shoulders smacking into Kiva as they blindly rushed by her. It was only seconds before the luminium was reignited, the room returned to its crimson shade, but Kiva
already knew what she would see.
Zuleeka and the rebels were gone.
Kiva used the pandemonium inside the Red House to her advantage, hurrying out with the panicked patrons and dissolving into the darkness of the alley before anyone could recognize her. She cringed at the thought of how much trouble Jaren must be in, certain Naari had to be apoplectic.
Tonight had been close — too close. If Naari hadn’t appeared when she had, Jaren would have been left to face the entire rebel group, including Zuleeka, on his own. And if the Royal Guard hadn’t stormed in, then the rebels might not have fled. Someone could have been hurt. Someone could have been killed.
And it would have been Kiva’s fault — because she’d been played.
Walking slowly back along the river, Kiva realized Zuleeka had never intended to warn the rebels that their meeting place had been compromised.
She’d instead used them to set up a trap.
It was clever, Kiva had to give her that. And if it had worked — She didn’t finish her train of thought, unable to stomach where it led.
The entire journey back to the palace, Kiva couldn’t figure out who she was angrier with: Zuleeka, Jaren, or herself. Zuleeka had taken a risk by coming to the city tonight, and she’d taken a greater risk by orchestrating an attack on the crown prince. But Jaren had fallen right into her hands by acting impulsively, following a dangerous lead without any backup.
As for herself, Kiva was more frustrated than ever by her dual mentality, unsure who she’d been fearing for most during the fight: Zuleeka or Jaren. If her sister had been hurt — or caught — then Kiva didn’t know what she would have done. But the same was also true for Jaren, who had been in just as much peril, perhaps more.
She couldn’t continue on like this, feeling as if she were constantly being split in two. It was exhausting — and it was driving her insane.
Kiva was rubbing her temples by the time she reached the iron grate and lowered herself into the tunnels. Tired and cold, all she wanted was to get to
her suite and fall into bed.
But when she finally made it back to her room in the eastern palace, she realized her night wasn’t over yet.
Because Naari was sitting on her bed in the dark, her voice low and lethal
as she uttered just two words: “Nice walk?”
Kiva froze just inside the doorway, her mind blanking at the sight of the guard’s glittering amber eyes.
“You’re lucky the storm cleared,” Naari said, her tone now deceptively courteous. “That would have been an unpleasant journey in the rain.”
“I wasn’t —” Kiva started, deciding to play dumb, but she was interrupted.
“I would think very carefully about your next words if I were you,” Naari warned, rising in one fluid motion, her leather-clad body rippling with fury.
Kiva bit her cheek and stepped further into the room. The moon streamed in from the balcony, the sight peaceful — but not enough to fill her with any sense of calm.
Sighing with resignation, she said, “If you’re going to yell at me, just yell at me.”
Naari’s eyes narrowed. “And why would I yell at you, Kiva? What part of
tonight would I be angry about?”
Wisdom told Kiva to hold her tongue.
“Do you have any idea how badly things could have gone?” the guard demanded. “If I hadn’t seen you and Jaren sneaking out of the palace —”
Kiva winced, realizing that was how she’d been discovered, right from the very beginning.
“— and if I hadn’t raised the alarm with Veris and told him where I assumed you were heading —” Naari paused her tirade to snap, “Don’t look at me like that, do you really think the person who gave Jaren that lead didn’t know he’d act on it, and therefore made sure I had the details, too? Please.”
Kiva swore quietly, realizing that of course Eidran would have told Naari.
The two guards had planned the Zalindov mission with Jaren — they were as close as anyone could be.
“I honestly don’t know if I’m more furious at Jaren for being a reckless, obstinate fool, or at you for following him instead of stopping him,” Naari stated, scowling fiercely. “Why in the name of the gods did you sneak after
him, Kiva? That’s the part I can’t figure out.”
Kiva rubbed her arms in an attempt to stall, her mind scrambling for a
believable excuse.
“Well?” Naari demanded.
“If you saw the crown prince slinking around like he wanted to avoid notice, wouldn’t you be curious?” Kiva asked, turning the question around on her.
“I wouldn’t follow him halfway across the city.”
Kiva decided not to point out that Naari had done exactly that. Instead, she drew emotion into her voice and said, “He hasn’t been sleeping well, ever since Zalindov. I was worried about him.”
“Which one is it?” Naari asked, evidently not buying it. “You were worried, or you were curious?”
“Both,” Kiva said, cursing her slow, tired mind. “I followed him because I wanted to be there for him, if he needed me. I had no idea what we’d be walking into.”
“And when you figured it out — you know, when there were swords and screaming,” Naari said with clear sarcasm, “you didn’t think to reveal yourself and return to the palace with us?”
Kiva forced a contrite expression onto her face. “I didn’t want Jaren knowing I’d followed him. How would I explain that?”
“How, indeed.”
At that point, Kiva asked, with genuine trepidation, “Did you tell him?”
Naari stared at Kiva for a long moment, as if trying to gauge whether or not she was truly innocent. Finally, she exhaled loudly and said, “No. After he and I had strong words about his actions, I returned him to his quarters and came straight here to wait for you. He has no idea you were at the Red House or that you saw what happened.”
“What did I see?” Kiva asked, adopting a guileless look. “Who were those people that attacked him?”
Naari moved back to Kiva’s bed, patting the blanket beside her. Warily, Kiva perched on the edge, trying to hide how much tension she still felt.
“The lead Jaren was given suggested that the rebels have a secret meeting place in the city,” Naari said. “That’s who he went looking for tonight.”
Kiva adopted a stunned look. “Those were rebels? But — wait. If Jaren knew, why did he risk going on his own?”
She should get a medal for her acting.
“Why does Jaren do anything?” Naari said, running an aggravated gloved hand through her cropped hair. “He’s trying to protect his people. The rebels have been quiet lately — he wanted to know why, and if they plan to stay that way. He didn’t think he’d get answers by storming in with reinforcements.”
“By the looks of it, he didn’t get answers anyway,” Kiva noted, still playing along.
“It was almost like they knew to expect him,” Naari murmured, frowning.
“The Viper is never in the city — she shouldn’t have been here at all, and yet, she didn’t seem surprised to see Jaren. She jumped him before he’d uttered a single word.”
Kiva had to be careful now. “The Viper?” she asked, trying to make her voice sound normal. “Was that the one in the mask?”
Naari nodded, her face darkening. “She’s a rebel leader — perhaps the leader, now that their queen is gone.” The guard looked down at her hand, flexing her fingers. “She and I go way back.”
A horrible feeling suddenly twisted within Kiva as she watched Naari
staring at her hand.
At her prosthetic hand.
“Is she — Did she —” Kiva couldn’t even get the question out.
“It happened three years ago, around when the rebels started to become a real problem,” Naari said, still looking down at her fingers, unaware of the dread now filling Kiva. “I was eighteen and had only recently arrived in Evalon after sneaking onto Veris’s ship. By that time, he believed in me — more than anyone — but I had a lot to prove, mostly to myself. I wasn’t Jaren’s personal guard then, but I was part of a group who traveled with him to visit some of the inland villages hit the hardest by the rebels. He wanted to see for himself, to check on his people and assist with the rebuilding.”
Naari’s gaze turned inward as she continued her story. “At one of those villages, Jaren heard about a family living just up the road whose young son had been injured in a rebel skirmish, and he wanted to see how the boy was faring. There had been no rebel activity in the area for a long time — Jaren should have been safe to walk the short distance on his own, but I erred on the side of caution and accompanied him.”
There was a long pause, as if Naari was living out her memory all over again.
“I’ve thought about that day too many times to count in the last three years,” she said in a quiet, musing voice. “I don’t think they knew we were
there — that Jaren was there. I think it was just a matter of bad timing.”
Kiva was barely breathing. “What happened?”
Naari clenched her prosthetic fingers into a fist. “There were only two of them — the Rebel Queen and the Viper. They stumbled out of the forest onto the road right in front of us, mid-conversation. My guess is they were heading to the village for supplies, but the moment they realized it was Jaren standing before them, the masked Viper drew her sword and lunged straight at him.”
Kiva could see it play out in her mind: Zuleeka’s shock at Jaren’s appearance, the opportunity to take him down too great to resist.
“I — I froze.”
Naari’s stuttered admission came from somewhere deep within her, a dark place full of regret.
“Years of fighting in Jiirvan arenas, and I’d never frozen before, not once,” she whispered. “I still don’t know what happened. Darkness swirled in my vision, and my limbs just wouldn’t obey me. Classic signs of a panic attack, I know. It was —” She shook her head. “I’ve never felt anything like it before. It was terrible, not being able to control myself. Not being able to do anything.”
She drew in a shuddering breath. “It felt like everything happened in slow motion. I saw the Viper lunging at Jaren, and I saw him reaching for his own blade just in time to meet hers, much like tonight. Tilda screamed out ‘No!’ and raised her hand as if to stop me, but I was no threat — I was so frozen I could barely breathe. But then it was like my adrenaline finally kicked in and suddenly the darkness vanished in a blaze of light, just as Jaren stumbled backwards and the Viper bore down on him.” Naari’s throat bobbed. “I jumped in her path as she slashed out with her sword, but I didn’t have time to draw my own weapon, so I stretched my arm out to protect him and —”
Naari didn’t finish. She didn’t need to finish.
Kiva already knew what had happened.
She was going to be sick. Right there on her lush carpet. What her sister had done — Naari cleared her throat and unfisted her hand. “Everything after that is a bit hazy. Veris and the other guards had realized something was wrong and were running toward us. Tilda dragged the Viper away and disappeared into the forest. Jaren made sure the best healers worked on me while he hunted down the most advanced prosthetic available. He then made me his Golden Shield, an honor no other Royal Guard has received in over fifty years.”
Naari offered a self-deprecating shrug. “I guess I haven’t done too badly.”
Kiva battled back all she was feeling to croak out, “Was — Was tonight the first time you’ve seen the Viper since then?”
“I’ve crossed blades with her a few times in the last three years,” Naari answered. “But like tonight, she always manages to get away, usually just as I’ve got her cornered. She should have been named the Rat or the Weasel, but I suppose she’s slippery like a snake.”
And venomous like a viper, Kiva thought.
“But anyway,” Naari said, tugging at the hem of her leather gloves. “You can see how she and I have unfinished business. One day we’ll finish what we started, and believe me, that day can’t come soon enough.”
It took everything in Kiva to keep from flinching at Naari’s hard declaration. The idea of the two of them facing each other again, of what might happen to either of them . . .
Gods, Kiva needed to figure out the mess in her head.
It’s him or us. Them or us. You can’t have it both ways.
She closed her eyes against Zuleeka’s words, exhaustion overwhelming her.
“It’s been a long day,” Naari said, rising to her feet. “I won’t tell Jaren you followed him tonight, but if it happens again — if either of you try to sneak out again —”
“I won’t,” Kiva said quickly. “I promise.”
She was careful not to think about her return to Murkwood Cottage in three days, lest Naari read the lie on her face.
“Get some sleep, Kiva,” Naari said, her voice gentling. “And don’t worry about the Viper and the rebels. I spent most of my life in a kingdom oppressed by corrupt rulers and full of desolate and hateful citizens. I escaped that for good reason, and I’ll never allow it to happen here. The rebels won’t win — ever. You’re safe with us. You always will be.”
With those words, the guard offered a small smile before leaving the room, oblivious to the devastation she left in her wake.
