Chapter 33
CHAPTER
33
I was deep into my reading when I heard a knock on the door. I opened it to find Varro there, informing me that I needed to come with him immediately.
Idris had returned.
All of us gathered in the common room, surprised to see Idris for the first time since he drugged us and delivered us to the doors of Basdie. From my limited encounters, he was normally the picture of calm and collected. This time, though, close observation revealed a twinge of nerves. Something wasn’t right. I feared this visit of his would not bode well for us.
“I come with urgent news. King Baelin of Artume has been assassinated by his brother Silas. He has overthrown his rule and is installing his new regime as we speak.” Idris eyed Saryn and Theory intensely before continuing.
“Silas is a traitor. It is no secret there is a following of dissenters that have grown in numbers over the past few years. He does not wish to honor the peace treaty between Cambria and Artume that his brother has adhered to since the great war.”
I glanced around the room, watching the others take in the news with concerned looks flitting from one face to the next. Saryn shifted uncomfortably from side to side. He appeared the most bothered, which was unusual.
“He has made no further acts at this time, but King Aeon has preemptively deployed an increased number of Kingsguards along the Ledor River. We cannot be certain if they will strike, but are unwilling to take any risks.”
I felt my palms sweat in wary anticipation of more details. I had known this moment would always come for us. The day they’d need us to leave Basdie. When we’d find out the real mission and true purpose. When the king finally came calling. From the corner of my eye, I could see the blood-red tattoos along Trace’s arm as he ran a hand nervously through his tousled hair.
Idris continued, “There will be a change of power, meaning Baelin’s court will be overhauled to root out anyone who will not support the new regime and Silas as their king. Now is the time to embed our assets. Chaos is our doorway.”
Theory stepped forward. “They’re not ready, Idris.”
In a rare display of impatience, Idris spat back, “War does not wait! It was your job to make sure they were ready.”
Theory glared at him through silver eyes. “They don’t always operate like a team, and they haven’t even learned to use the portal stones yet.”
Idris stepped forward, practically nose to nose with her. “You have four days to teach them, and then I’m taking at least two south of the river to Nasallus. I will be back for the rest shortly thereafter.”
Saryn grunted in agreement with Theory, but Idris cocked his head and spoke before Saryn could add more, “I’m swearing them in tonight. I speak for the king.”
I knew I wasn’t the only one holding my breath, trying to accept the fact that we were running out of time.
We all sat in near-complete silence during dinner. Saryn, Theory, and Idris did not join us. My guess is they were discussing who was most prepared and would leave with Idris first. I’d never been to Artume, I doubted any of us had. Though, I’d heard the road south could be treacherous. I had studied it briefly on maps, but those who resided in Cambria under the rule of King Aeon did not travel across the border along the Riverlands. Travel to the other side was reserved for diplomatic and trade envoys.
The peace treaty was delicately maintained. Each had agreed to the established border and which lands were granted to which kingdoms. Rules of engagement were adhered to and, for the most part, peace was manageable. Both sides wanted to focus on restoring their lands and livelihoods, and so it was for many, many years. Until now.
I felt the weight of the moment shifting the flow of history back toward a time when tensions ran high, fighting was rampant, and years were marred by senseless bloodshed. Generations erased.
I was lucky to have not been born then, but I had read the texts and been taught everything there was to know at the academy. A chivalrous line on a map represented nothing more than the words of two kings and signatures on parchment. It could easily be washed away like sand under the tide.
The three of them arrived at the dinner hall dressed in full black regalia, their silver talismans hanging from their necks and reminding me of our invisible brands. They led us out to the terrace where the sun had almost finished setting, instructing us to stand shoulder to shoulder with one another in a straight line. To my left was Varro, and to my right, Trace shifted uncomfortably. Next to him was Gia, followed by Cairis and then Nori.
“Your families delivered you to the Offering. Your king delivered you to the Order. But only your peers can deliver you to the Imperi. Tonight, this ceremony represents embracing the blood of your true brethren beside you. They are your family; they will be with you until your last breath. Trust them with your life, for your people are trusting you with theirs.”
I inhaled deeply, attempting to steel my emotions against the gravity of Idris’ words.
Theory approached Varro with a small blade in hand as Idris continued. “The latest member sworn to the Imperi carries the burden of swearing in the next. A tradition that has been in place since our inception. One by one you will recite your oath... Theory, place your blade on Varro’s throat and repeat after me.”
Eyes wide, my nostrils flared in fear at his instructions. No one moved, not a single flinch, but the energy radiating between the entire group was palpable as I watched Theory lift the small blade to Varro’s throat and hold it against his golden skin.
“I am offered but give myself freely.
I am ordered but follow freely.
I am the Imperi.
This is the beginning to no end.
My loyalty is bound to you and our cause.
In words and in blood.”
Each phrase, Theory repeated the words aloud, staring into Varro’s eyes and keeping the blade pressed firmly against his neck. When the last word left her lips, she quickly swiped the blade across Varro’s neck.
I watched his body react in panic, and though I could not see his eyes, I knew there was terror in them. Before I could reach for him to offer aid, Theory quickly grabbed his bleeding throat with her other hand and held it firmly for only a second before pulling it away, revealing she had quickly healed his wound. Her ebony hand was still covered in his blood, but she showed no hint of concern or regret. I watched Varro’s hands tremble at his sides before he grabbed for his neck, checking to make sure the wound was not there.
Theory then handed the blade to Varro, nudging him to face me next. This was pure insanity. My pulse raced, my chest rising and falling with immense fear as I gazed up into those crystal blue eyes, knowing what was coming next. He didn’t have to say anything. I could see it in the way his jaw was clenched tightly; he could have cracked a tooth.
I gave him an almost imperceptible nod, knowing we would not escape this. With my small gesture of permission, he raised the blade to my throat, still wet with his blood. His hand was unsteady and I could feel it quivering against my skin. Idris repeated the words, but I could only hear Varro’s voice as he spoke the oath emptily.
Our gazes locked and I could see small tears forming in his eyes. All of a sudden, I felt a warmth spread over me like a blanket or a tight hug, immediately calming my nerves and diluting my fear completely. Then Varro grabbed the back of my head at my nape, tilting my face back ever so slightly before swiping the blade across my throat as gently as he could while still drawing blood.
He immediately dropped the blade, and before I could even react to the pain, his other hand was there over my throat, soothingly hot. There was no pain, only the warmth of his fingertips woven into my hair and pressed against my throat.
He held them there, and only when he removed both hands did the dreamlike state I had been in recede and everyone else came back into view. He turned his attention to the bloodied blade on the ground. He picked it up and placed it carefully in my hands, letting his fingers linger.
I gulped down my nerves as I turned to face Trace. Had I known we’d ever be doing something like this, I’d probably have practiced healing others much more diligently. Would I be able to pull this off quickly? How much pain would he feel if I wasn’t quick enough?
There I was staring into his hazel eyes, realizing how we’d come full circle. The first time my eyes had met his, he’d held a blade to a stranger’s neck. Since then, much had changed between us and about us. Part of me felt like he was a stranger now.
I held the blade against his throat and began to repeat each line of the oath, following Idris’ words. Time seemed to stand still as my thoughts waged war on my heart. There were so many feelings of betrayal between us; I’d never felt more distant from him than in this moment.
Two distinct feelings battled deep inside my heart. One being indescribable sadness, and the other being uncontrollable anger. Trace’s expression screamed Forgive me but there was no forgiveness in my heart. Not as I took an oath to protect him with my life, knowing he had already failed to protect mine.
I slid the knife across his throat, and he didn’t even flinch. It was as if he was accepting of this fate, of the pain that would ensue. His ambivalence welcomed it like an old friend. I let myself witness one drop of blood before I held my hand firmly against his throat and used all my focus and energy to heal him quickly and thoroughly.
When I removed my hand to reveal that the wound was no more, his expression was numb. My breath hitched as he grabbed the blade from my hand and turned his back on me to face Gia.
Each of us took the oath, culminating with Cairis swearing in Nori. We all turned to face Idris, our throats and hands smeared in each other’s blood forcing us to realize the fragility of our existence.
“Welcome to the Imperi, brothers and sisters. May the enemies of our king never see us coming.” Idris smiled wickedly.
The next morning, they began our crash course in utilizing the moonstones. Most of their focus was on ensuring Trace and Gia knew what they were doing, since it had been determined they’d be the first to leave with Idris. This meant the rest of us would have only slightly more time to hone our skills. I was not shocked that I was chosen to stay behind, since Saryn and I had barely made a dent in my training.
I had to admit, I did not like the idea of two of our members being sent off on their own. It seemed better for us to go together, but no one had asked for my opinion. The plan had been determined by Saryn, Theory, and Idris without room for argument.
Gia was going to be planted as a member of the new queen of Artume’s court; one of her ladies-in-waiting. Everyone knew the risks that came with this, and I was almost certain that was Idris’ intention. Ladies often ended up as some sort of concubine or consort for the king or his inner circle. Once again, she was being set up as bait. This was what she got for being the most beautiful and gifted in shapeshifting.
Trace, not shockingly, would be inserted as a member of the military, which would allow him to demonstrate loyalty, work his way up the ranks, and eventually be in charge of protecting the Royal family themselves. This would also keep him close enough to Gia to allow them to coordinate and exchange information.
Additionally, by embedding himself in the enemy’s military he’d have more exposure to any plans to march on or attack the border. Most importantly, he could gauge how many of them were truly loyal to the new king versus just trying to keep their heads attached to their shoulders.
Most of the time, we watched and listened as Trace and Gia practiced using the moonstones to portal from one space to the next within the confines of Basdie. The rest of us were anxious to give them a try but remained patient, knowing that their time with us was dwindling, and it was far more important that they felt comfortable and capable with the stones.
They needed to understand how to use them, how to hide them, and the associated risks on top of what little briefing they could receive from Idris about where they were headed and the plans to install them in the inner circle.
About a day ago, Trace started wearing a glamour full time. His tattoos were completely hidden now, and the scar on his brow missing. While the black cloaks did not operate in Artume, the kingdom had likely heard the rumors. He could not run the risk of being identified; he’d need to keep up a constant front not only of his physical appearance, but also his mental shields. Gia would be doing the same, keeping her mind locked down while determining when and how it made sense to shift in order to gain information and access.
We’d been so focused on their exit and ensuring they were prepared that I spent little to no time focused on dark wielding. But I knew as soon as they left, my training with Saryn would intensify ten-fold.
Idris would be back soon and likely expecting that the remainder of us were ready to go. We weren’t, but now was the time.
When I had been sent to serve the king, I had never thought we’d be crossing the border to infiltrate Artume. But I had also never thought the southern king’s brother would assassinate him.