36. A City of Spies
A City of Spies
Aradia
Aradia stood with Rhydar and Jasper below, waiting for the rest of the group to gather and hating herself for how easily she had given in to Kaiden’s comfort.
“Did ya not sleep well, lass?” Rhydar looked her way over his horse.
“I slept ...” Aradia fumbled with her saddle.
Kaiden stepped from outside the inn followed by a solemn Fintan and red-faced Cahira. His gaze found hers and she flushed.
“Fine,” she mumbled under her breath, thankful for the cover of smoke, although her eyes watered constantly.
She didn’t miss Jasper’s smirk as he slung his leg over his horse, mounting with silence.
“Well, it seems like we all slept just grandy.” Rhydar’s laugh was cut short at Cahira’s glare.
Kaiden stepped toward her, placing a hand at the small of her back.
She instantly leaned into him, feeling a part of the team for once.
“We need to find out what is going on in the citadel. Randale’s streets might be run by the spies and mercenaries but within those walls” — Kaiden pointed toward the high towers visible from a distance — “the council rules.”
Excitement rushed through her, making her feel light on her feet and eager to act. Would he ask her to join them on breaking into the citadel or would he leave her behind?
A sharp whistle sounded. A brown hawk screeched from above, diving toward her head.
“Depths,” Cahira hissed. “The Silver Paradox.”
“Who?” Aradia asked.
She didn’t hear the answer as an arrow whizzed by her shoulder, piercing the floorboards of the inn. Strong hands gripped her arm, spinning her into Kaiden’s chest.
“Look out!” Fintan shouted.
A figure draped in black emerged from the smoke. In his right hand he swung metal-spiked flails in deadly circles. His left gloved finger pointed to her.
“Hand her to me,” he said.
“Not a chance in Ukoron’s depths.” Rhydar stepped in front of her, drawing his axe from across his back.
Aradia’s surroundings blurred as the inner circle moved as deadly as vipers around her.
Cahira fired arrow after arrow into the smoke.
Jasper was all but a wisp of daggers and death. He disappeared and emerged silently throughout. Where he appeared, men dropped.
Fintan, Rhydar, and Kaiden fought side by side. Their swords clashing against the weapons of the men clothed in black.
Never before had she felt so helpless. One man broke the boundary they had made around her. She reached for the dagger kept in her tall boot.
He charged and she ducked to the left, bringing her dagger up like Cahira had shown her.
The dagger swished against the open air.
The assailant dodged her blade easily.
She was too slow. She gritted her teeth in frustration and tried to find the right footing for a strong stance. His leg swooped beneath her knees and she fell to the ground. She landed on her back and swore to the gods she felt her very spine snap.
She gasped for air, crawling backward and coughing.
The scared neighs of horses tied to the post sounded muffled as her heart thumped, drowning out all other noises. Tears welled in her eyes as she looked around for any help.
She grabbed a rock the size of her palm and chucked it at the man.
It bounced off his metal arm brace with a hard tink. She jumped to her feet and tried to run toward where she hoped Kaiden would be.
A gloved hand gripped her around the back of her neck, jerking her head backward.
Aradia let out a cry. She distantly heard her name being called. A curved dagger with wrapped spiked edges angled at her throat, freezing her in place.
A mercenary climbed onto a merchant cart. “Enough!”
As if the voice held the power to move the air, the smoke began to clear. Aradia could glimpse the inner circle’s forms. Men littered the ground surrounding the group. She glanced around, but Kaiden was nowhere to be found. Her heart sank.
“We’re here for the girl,” the leader said. “No more blood needs to be spilled.”
Aradia tried to squirm against the man who held her steadfast. The blade around her throat tightened, breaking her skin, and drawing blood.
A whimper escaped her lips.
“Stop squirming,” the man rasped in her ear, giving her chills. His hand gripped the nape of her neck, entangling her hair and forcing her to lean closer to him.
Aradia looked at the inner circle expecting to see the fear she knew was etched in her own face. Instead, she saw defiance and pure rage. Right, this wasn’t everyone's first time. She shook in her boots. Sweat formed on her upper lip and dampened her armpits.
Flashbacks of the assassin from Gail tore through her mind. A tear rolled down her face at the memory of her knife sinking into his neck and eyes full of so much hatred.
“What do you want with her?” Fintan asked.
“That,” the leader said from underneath his hood, “is none of your concern.” Aradia imagined he was smiling wickedly. The hood turned in her direction and Aradia took a shallow breath, careful not to move the blade at her throat. “Priestess Damali. Come with us.”
The man behind her tugged at her elbow.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Cahira’s voice was low. Her eyes were like glaciers, frigid and deadly, as she pinned the man behind Aradia with a wicked glare.
His slight hesitation was all it took before she heard the unsheathing of a sword and blood sprayed against her cloak. Her scream choked in her throat.
His head rolled from his shoulders. The look of utter shock still etched in his face.
Kaiden stood with his sword pointed at the spies.
The promise of death sharpened the angles on his face.
The softness from last night was replaced with a fierceness that made her weak in the knees.
This was the Kaiden Valencia only whispered in the cover of night.
The name which was feared and hated throughout Peraynia. The Prince of Arkan.
“Touch her again,” he growled. “And you’ll not make it back to your master.”