Fantasy of Fire (The Tainted Accords #3)(34)

“You’re a hero, Frost.” Her words make my insides freeze. I swing the door open.

Willow speaks behind me and I pause on the threshold. “You’re our hero. The one who rose from the Outer Rings, the one who showed the king that people here have worth. Now you’re here to change things for the better, once again,” she says. “I’d get used to the crowd parting for you.”

I dip my head slightly to the mistress and squeeze out of the brothel’s uneven doors between two slimy men. My uneasiness intensifies as I think over Willow’s words. As soon as I see the blurriness at the edges of my vision, I begin the process of breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. The feeling I’ve begun to recognize as panic is trying to batter its way out.

I’m not even from the Outer Rings. What happens when they find out? I’m about to show my face to an entire group of people who view me as one of their own—some kind of hero. I falter on a cobblestone, but stay straight and regain my measured gait. The scene before me tightens and stretches. I wonder if these people can tell I'm an inch away from screaming. A whispering noise overrides my senses. Are the crowds drawing closer? No. I force another breath out. It’s in my head!

I put my hand in my pocket and grab a pinch of material. I roll it between my fingers and focus on the texture. Soft … malleable. This is part of the plan. I want people to find out. I can’t control everyone else. I don’t want to—even if I could—because that would make me like my mother.

It will work out.

I release another breath, refusing to let it shake on its way out. The crowds move back … if they were ever really close in the first place.

*

I hoist my pack up as I stand at the last gate outside the barracks. It’s just past dawn, but everyone in the barracks is all gathered there with me.

“You didn’t have to get up. I’ll see you in two days,” I grumble half-heartedly. Avalanche sweeps me up in a crushing hug. My nervousness about what I’ll be doing when I next see them makes my stomach revolt. The force of the hug threatens to make me sick. Shard gives me a searching look.

Ice bends and taps my nose. “On with ya, girly. I’ll be following your followers to flush out the rat.” I exchange an evil snigger with him. He’d taken up this spying job with gusto. There’d been several young boys and girls darting in and out of the barracks yesterday—Ice’s network. And now Ice was going to follow me home to see who my tails worked for. It was odd thinking about them following me, and Ice following them. I hope no one followed Ice.

“You better leave if you want to get back to the castle before nightfall,” Alzona murmurs, half asleep. I wonder if she was up all night making plans after I told her the brothel was on board.

I heave a sigh and start down the alleyway, resisting the urge to check the rooftops for spies. They were just amateurs—according to Ice. My heart tugs in my chest as I leave the barracks. I look over my shoulder and see my friends watching me. Avalanche waves. I lift my hand in farewell.

It’s still there. The temptation. The urge to bury my head in the dirt and pretend nothing is wrong. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that things—or a certain person—have a way of finding you no matter how hard you try to hide. You can only delay the inevitable for so long.

I take careful note on my journey back to the castle. Maybe it’s because Shard put the thought in my mind, but there’s a tension through the pitted ruins of the Outer Rings I hadn’t noticed before. More screams pierce the air than I remember, and low whispers follow my retreat from the barracks. All is not well in the Outer Rings.

I see further evidence of this when I reach the Middle Ring by midday. The people here are furtive, darting glances around all the while as they keep the hoods of their cloaks raised, hurrying to get business done. I veer off my previous pathway out of curiosity, and discover several blocks of Middle Ring homes, destroyed by fire, just as Willow described. The windows of many other blocks are broken, the shelters emptied. I’d heard the advisor’s reports. But it was so much worse than that. Seeing the destruction and feeling the general dissent forces me to acknowledge this uprising is very real. And very dangerous. No wonder Jovan had been so resistant to me leaving alone.

I trek through the Inner Ring as the light is fading. The Inner Ring is the only place seemingly untouched by the revolt. Then again, the night is young, and I only pass two Bruma on the way. The rest are probably locked in their homes, knowing they’re next.

I take a tangling dance through the assembly lodgings, pausing at intervals to make sure I haven’t been followed. Ice told me he’d make sure the tags didn’t follow me past the Inner Ring, but I want to be safe, just in case. I replace my veil when in sight of the castle.

The king is waiting for me at the gate this time. I shriek when I’m a few meters from him, not expecting his presence just yet.

“Solis, Jovan. You scared me.” Usually I’m summoned. Is it just coincidence he’s here? Has he been waiting, or did one of his men alert him?

“Where have you been?” he says, jaw clenched. He leans down until we’re face-to-material. He has to bend a fair way to do so.

“I told you I’d be a few days,” I hedge.

“You said two.”

“Or three,” I correct. I slide the straps of my pack off my back. Jovan takes the bundle as I roll my shoulders.