Chapter XI
XI.
My vision spins, and pressure builds in my chest.
How did Father learn what I did so fast? It’s over before I even made it out of Dominus.
I’ll never be welcomed back into my home. Even if Father lets me live, I’ll be branded a traitor. Not even Atty will want anything to do with me.
“Are you okay?” Nathan Reynolds whispers. “You’re not gonna pass out, are you?”
His voice breaks me out of my reverie. I blink until he comes into focus and the ache disappears from my chest. He watches me, his eyes lined with concern. I open my mouth to insist I’m fine, but the words die in my throat. The way he looks at me is foreign. Like he actually cares if I’m okay.
But he barely knows me.
He probably only cares that I promised to get him out of here.
I nod, removing my hand from his mouth. “Just need a minute.”
Pressing against the wall, I inch forward. I can’t see around the corner but, based on their voices, there are at least three souldiers.
My companion’s wounds may be healing, but he’s still weak. And he’s human—which makes him useless.
Three on one. Perfect.
“Wait here,” I whisper. “And for the love of all things, stay quiet.”
Slipping my sword from its sheath, I grip the handle with a sweaty palm. I’m a decent fighter in class, but most souldiers have centuries of training on me. The metal in my hand sprays the cave with dancing stars as it trembles in the firelight.
I suck in a breath and peer around the corner. The souldiers have their backs to me. They’re standing close to the edge of a cliff, their postures relaxed.
At least I have the element of surprise.
Using both hands to steady my weapon, I leap out of the cave and attack the first souldier. My blade misses her by inches, but she’s so startled that she backs up and plunges over the side of the cliff without so much as a scream.
My eyes widen.
Oops.
The fall won’t kill her. If anything, she’ll get a couple days of paid vacation. Maybe she’ll thank me.
A second souldier cries out. I blow my bangs out of my face and spin around.
Raising my sword, I circle him, my hood shadowing my face. He darts to the left, and I mirror his movement. His baton shakes in his hand, and the badge on his shoulder comes into focus—the same badge Attero has. A souldier-in-training.
That should make it easy. I’ve had more combat lessons than this one. I almost feel sorry for him.
I’m pulling back to swing at him when something connects with my skull, sending pain shooting through the back of my head into my eyes.
I’d forgotten about the third souldier.
The ground rushes toward me, and I hit it with a grunt, wind smashed from my lungs and stones digging into my palms. My sword clatters and settles at the edge of the cliff. I stare at it in horror.
“Who are you?” The souldier drags me up by the elbow and shoves the hood off my face. His shoulders stiffen. “Your Highness?”
He lowers my arm, and my body sags when his name tag comes into focus. “Diripo.”
He’s one of Father’s oldest foot souldiers, and he watched over me many times when I was young.
And he’s always had a bit of a soft spot for me.
I puff out my lower lip like I used to when I wanted something from him as a child. “Please let me go. There’s been a mistake.”
His grip doesn’t loosen. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but we’ve received orders to bring you back to your chambers. There’s a rumor you’ve released a shadeling.”
The back of my head throbs, and I rub the bump with a whimper.
“All I’m doing is taking a tour of the place that’s going to be mine soon.
As you can see, I’m alone.” I peer up at him from under my eyelashes.
“The last thing I’d do is free a shadeling.
They’re evil.” Jutting out my lip farther, I widen my eyes like the shadelings who plead their innocence with me weekly.
I can’t make out his eyes beneath the visor, but he relaxes his hold on my arm. He clears his throat and tilts his head. “I suppose we could—”
A screech pierces the air, and Nathan Reynolds flies from the cave, his left leg extended. The blood drains from my face. I call out for him to stop, but it’s too late.
His foot connects with the temple of the souldier-in-training beside me, who has the misfortune of having removed his helmet to shine the visor with his sleeve. His head hits the stone wall with a crack, and he collapses onto the ground, unconscious.
There’s no time to think. Diripo’s already released my arm and turned toward the disturbance. I dive for my sword and somersault onto my back. He rushes at me, and I brandish the weapon. He halts as the sharp edge meets the hem of his vest.
“Don’t make me do it.” My voice quivers. “I know this won’t kill you, but it’ll hurt a ton, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Your Highness.” Diripo removes his helmet, exposing his human-form face—hard cheekbones and soft eyes, a long scar running between them.
It’s the same face that comforted me as a child when I had nightmares and Father was nowhere to be found.
My grip on the sword loosens. I can’t hurt someone who cared for me when no one else would.
“Think about what you’re doing,” he says.
“You’re risking everything for a shadeling.
And a murderer at that. Let me take you back to your father, explain this sinner took you captive and I helped you escape.
” He reaches one gloved hand out to me. “Please, Your Highness. I’ve been your father’s loyal servant for years. He’ll believe me.”
“Devica,” Nathan Reynolds says. “Don’t listen to him. It’s a trick.”
Diripo’s eyes indicate the opposite. They’re sincere. After all, I promised I wouldn’t harm him. He’s returning the favor.
I bite my cheek. Father will forgive me if Diripo talks to him. I can put all of this behind me. Nathan Reynolds will be forced back to his lot and most likely receive a worse punishment, but I’ll never have to see him again.
I lower my sword and allow Diripo to pull me to my feet.
“I’m so sorry,” I say.
“It’s okay, Your Highness.” Diripo smiles, the same smile that tucked me into bed all those years ago.
“Devica,” Nathan Reynolds pleads. I don’t look at him.
“I’m sorry,” I say again, the back of my throat aching. “Please forgive me.”
I ram the hilt of my sword down onto Diripo’s head. He drops at my feet, unconscious. I turn away from the bleeding cut on his skull.
That was the last thing I wanted to do.
Nathan Reynolds leans against the wall. He’s panting, bent over his knees with his eyes closed. “You really had me going there for a minute. I thought for sure you were about to turn me in.”
Rage flashes like lightning across my vision, and I stomp over to him and smack him across the chest. “Why did you do something so careless? I told you I had it. You risked both our lives coming out of hiding like that.”
“Well, excuse me.” He rubs the pink imprint I’ve left on his skin. “It sounded like you needed help.”
“I didn’t.” I shove my sword into its sheath and wipe my dirty palms on my dress. “Especially not from a shadeling.”
“I see that. Can’t believe you threw one of them off a cliff for me.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “For me, you mean. My father will kill me if he catches us. Besides, the souldier will be fine. A little banged up, but she’ll live. The only way to kill a demon is to toss them into the Ignis River. We’re nowhere near there yet.”
“Yet.” He swallows. “Can’t wait to see that place.”
Ignoring the pool of blood beside Diripo’s body, I drag him beside the rookie and compare their sizes to Nathan Reynolds.
It’s clear the rookie is too small, and I sigh and begin stripping the uniform off Diripo.
Grimacing, I undo the buttons and zippers while trying not to take in what’s underneath.
This demon’s been more of a father to me than my own dad.
Seeing him naked is not something I need stored in my memory banks for eternity.
“What in the here was that?” I pry a boot off Diripo’s foot and toss it on the ground beside Nathan Reynolds. “That screeching, leg-kick thing.”
He stares at the boot, brows creased. “That was kung fu.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“You don’t have kung fu movies here? This really is Hell.” He picks up the boot and shakes out a few stones. “Kung fu. You know, Bruce Lee? Jackie Chan? Jet Li?”
I look up at him with raised eyebrows. “Are those words supposed to mean something to me?”
Diripo’s second boot comes off with a thwup sound. Souldiers sweat all day in these boots, as evidenced by the odor wafting from his sock. I wrinkle my nose, glad it’s Nathan Reynolds sticking his foot in here and not me.
“They aren’t words,” he says. “They’re people. Legends, even. What are you doing?”
I toss the uniform and second boot at him and stand. My joints ache from the climb here, and I stretch my arms over my head and pull my body up tight. “You need proper clothes. You can’t walk around in half a jumpsuit. This will help you blend in.”
“Fine.” He reaches for the waistband of his mangled jumpsuit, then stops. “Um… A little privacy?”
My face warms, and I roll my eyes before turning my back to him. “Like I really want to watch you change.”
“No one could blame you if you did.”
The heat from my face creeps down my neck. He may be good-looking, but he’s also got an ego the size of my father. I sure know how to pick travel companions. “If you keep saying things like that, I’m going to march you back to your lot. You can flirt with the demons poking you with knives.”
“I’ll have you know they used swords,” he mutters.
His jumpsuit falls beside me, and I suck in a breath before meticulously making sure my sword is in its sheath and my dress is not torn.
He clears his throat, and I turn to find him fully dressed. I’m strangely both relieved and disappointed.
“We should get going,” he says as Diripo’s body twitches between us. “Dorito here is making me nervous.”
I nod, gathering the souldiers-in-training’s weapons and handcuffs from his belt and shoving them into my bag. “Follow me.”
I shoot one last glance at the unconscious souldiers before we turn the corner and the ache returns to my chest. So far, I’ve managed to betray Attero and Diripo, the only two demons down here who truly cared about me.
If finding my mom wasn’t enough of a reason to leave, I’ve just given myself a reason to never come back.