Ever the Brave (A Clash of Kingdoms Novel)(57)

We are almost to the yard when shouting echoes off the arcading above us. We must be thinking alike because we slip into a curtained alcove. As footsteps bang the floor, moving past us, I realize Finn is in the guards’ quarters.

Finn. “You have to go without me.”

Aodren spins around to face me. The darkness hides his expression. The hall is quiet again.

“Finn, Cohen’s brother, is in the castle,” I explain. “I cannot leave him.”

He steps closer; though I cannot see him, it feels as if his shadow is moving over me. He leans down, whispering, “We’ll go together.”

Since he cannot see me, I reach out and grasp his arm, squeezing so he understands the urgency in my words. “You have to get out while you can. It would be foolish for us both to stay behind.”

“We’re safer together,” he argues, echoing a lesson Papa taught me long ago. Two people often survive where one cannot.

But he’s king of Malam. His life is worth much more than mine. The longer we’re in the castle, the greater the risk because it gives time for our enemies to flush us out. It’s strange how I feel like I’ve been in this situation before. When Cohen was faced with leaving me and Enat in order to save his brother, I urged him to go. I knew then he would never be able to live with the knowledge that he’d let his brother be sent to his death. Now, if I let Finn die, Cohen will never be able to forgive me.

“Please,” I beg him. “Ride out. I’ll meet you in the Evers.”

He doesn’t need to ask how I’ll find him.

“I promised Cohen I’d look out for Finn. But you, you need to leave and find Captain Omar. It’s your duty to help the people caught here, before . . .”

An argument tightens his features, but it’s softened by acceptance. His dislike of leaving me behind is obvious, but it doesn’t matter because he knows I’m right. “Be safe,” he urges, and before I can respond, his lips are on mine.

His. Lips.

I gasp the second he shifts back. Surprisingly, he blinks at me like he’s just as shocked. His mouth opens and closes and opens. He mutters for me to be safe once more, and then he rushes out of the alcove and down the hallway.

It takes me a beat to shake off his kiss. I don’t have time to even wonder what just happened. Instead, I rush toward the guards’ quarters, hoping Finn is all right. That he’s not heard the commotion and he’s remained safe in his room. Keeping close to the wall, I scurry down the stairs that lead to the training yard.

At the bottom of the staircase, the grass is stained the deepest, darkest maroon despite the moonlight stealing the rest of the world’s color. Slain guards scatter the field.

Shock has me frozen on the bottom step. Nothing makes sense. I stare and stare at the blades protruding from stomachs, hands flopped to the side. Halos of blood pool under lifeless bodies. I blink, needing the scene to be gone. How could all this have happened?

The magnitude of the many deaths boulders into me. Vomit rushes up my throat. My ears ring. I hold my hand to my mouth, keeping myself together as best I can, and stumble away, rushing into the quarters.

Doors fly open, banging walls. I call for Finn. I search every room, look under cots, shift through every wardrobe.

He’s not here.

Where is he?

Air rushes in and out of my lungs too fast for me to catch my breath. Fear they’ve already caught or killed him turns me frantic. I rush out of the yard, leaving obsidian footprints on the stairs.

When I reach the main level of the castle, a face that’s haunted my dreams stares back at me.

Lord Jamis stands under the arcading.

I skid to a stop. He’s lost weight, and he looks more vulturine than ever. It’s impossible to stop the shiver that racks through me.

His lips hitch open, displaying large teeth. “Hello, Britta. Have you lost something?”

I pant for a stubborn breath as I try to see a way to escape.

Even though I’m outnumbered, I lift the stolen bow and my last arrow, arms shaking. Hatred courses through my limbs. “Where is he?”

Phelia comes out of the shadows, flanked by traitor guards. Different than when I saw her in the woods, she has a brittle coldness about her. I shudder with revulsion. My mind seems to overcome the shock, replaced by the wry understanding that Cohen was right about Jamis and Phelia working together.

The guards force a frightened figure to his knees in front of her. The boy buckles, his knees folding and hitting the granite floor with a thud. Finn.

No!

My arrow is slicing through the air in a heartbeat, aimed at Lord Jamis’s chest. Wind gusts around Jamis and Phelia, whipping at my dress. The arrow spins out of its trajectory, flying into the wall and clattering to the ground.

I stare, confused. What just happened?

Phelia’s chin jerks. My gaze hones in on the movement and the girls to her rear right. Four girls, different heights, body sizes, and skin color, with one trait in common: blue eyes. Channelers. A guard thrusts one toward Phelia.

She takes the girl and presses their wrists together. The girl cries out and, to my horror, crumbles to the ground.

Momentarily unarmed, I toss the useless bow to the ground and slide out Papa’s dagger. I hold it up, trying to figure out how I’ll take on the entire group.

Phelia’s palms lift to face me. The wind picks up again. It knocks me to the floor. I struggle to crawl forward, but the wind is a cyclone that pins me down.