Chapter Twenty
THE SPY
Iawakened from anxiety-riddled sleep. Glancing around the room, I noticed training leathers, my boots, and—oddly, but thankfully—the cherry candies I’d had stashed in my pockets and satchel when I’d gone to the fields with Korin.
Guilt coiled in my stomach at the thought of the young girl. I had to make recompense for putting her in such a dangerous situation.
The urgent desire to move had me getting out of bed. My neck remained stiff where the parasite once lived, but overt pain had dissipated leaving a wary, dull ache. I leaned my head back, my fingers gently grazing my neck wound. The worst of my recovery was now behind me.
I secured my braids—three behind my right ear and two behind my left—then tied back the rest, hoping that whatever awaited at the sparring fields would be painful enough to numb the effects of my choices.
As prepared as I could be, I followed a silent guard through the rebellion’s domain.
We weaved through houses made of varying types of stone.
The healing area consisted primarily of sun-bleached limestone; scrolling copper details suffused the facade, creating ornate window borders as well as practical beams that gleamed in the twinkling pre-dawn.
Other areas housed tall stone buildings, some with chimneys where curling black smoke spilled into the sky. An area further off included a great hall and other larger facilities. We eventually came upon an open area of sectioned-off fields.
I took off in a sprint, running along the perimeter of the sparring area.
My feet pounded against the ground, dew spraying off short blades of grass in twinkling explosions I felt rather than saw.
A few tears streaked down my face. No one, save for my watchful guard, stood by to distract me with their auras, so I let them flow.
A gaping hollow spread within me. How could I have grown up in Haluma and believed in the lies so thoroughly?
How did I miss the truth staring me in the face?
I had trusted the king, the one who knew the worst about me, and everything he did and said had been a lie.
There were Primes still alive. And he hunted them all to harvest them for their magic.
I wanted to puke. I could hardly trust myself.
I pushed my body well beyond what I should have exerted in my current state.
The site of the Surveille extraction had slightly reopened, and a small trickle of blood dampened my collar.
I slashed the back of my hand across my eyes smearing my tears.
Whatever pain I experienced, was pain I deserved. For my blind trust. For my stupidity.
An old ache scraped against my ribs. One that whispered my lack, imprinting my isolation on my skin for all to observe.
I had again lost everything, and I only had myself to blame.
Just like with my parents. My breaths heaved and I slowed to a stop, dizzy, leaning over my knees to draw air into my lungs.
Again.
I resumed my frenetic pace, blood and sweat mingling with hatred—at both myself and the king. I followed my worn trail along the outskirts of the sparring fields over and over, welcoming the sharp burn of my muscles, the sting in my lungs.
The scent of leather and amber broke my concentration. When my path led me away from the base of the mountains, I caught the general watching me with keen and curious eyes. I slowed, breaths jagged in the cool air.
The morning had opened its indolent eyes revealing hues of cerulean and coral, clouds growing brighter with the reflection of the sun’s rays. I forced my anxious thoughts to dissipate, imagining the space left behind being filled with a golden strength. Like Judd’s eyes, damn him.
I proceeded over to where weapons lounged against a gray stone wall. I grabbed a simple, dull broadsword. This thing couldn’t cut through a soft piece of fruit, but it would make do for simple drills.
The general met me at the collection of swords and battle axes. He seemed as large and solid as the stone wall I had gathered my sword from. He blatantly assessed me, his face yielding nothing. “You started early. Let’s see how you fight, Ruin of the Scourge. But no magic.”
I assumed my fighting stance. “It’s Rue,” I corrected him.
He merely shrugged, removing his own sword from its sheath and took up his position opposite me.
He lunged, our dance beginning. He displayed the clever, graceful movements of a man well-trained.
His footwork and feinting, his strength and power calculated and deliberately impressive, even to me, an elite soldier.
But I was eager to prove I would not be a liability, but rather a formidable fighting ally in whatever he required of me.
We parried and twisted, ducked and lunged.
I settled easily into combat, armoring myself and embracing the lethality of my body.
I twisted away from his blade, my own narrowly missing his chest as he tactfully avoided contact.
His stance faltered, and I swept my foot under him, ready to take him out.
He caught my movement with breathtaking speed, turning my attempt against me.
In a heartbeat, he was on top of me, his weight dispersed enough for me to choke on my dignity.
Muscular forearms held him up in an effort to avoid crushing me.
That maddening mouth twitched in a deviously taunting smirk, mere inches from my face.
“Your confidence far exceeds your demonstrated performance.” He jumped up, beckoning me with a cocky summon of his hand. “Again, Scourge.”
I cracked my neck, ready to wipe that smug grin off his face and make him eat the words he’d thrown back at me. My feet planted, balance restored, we went again.
After multiple draws, two wins, and mostly getting my ass handed to me, we finally took a break. I regarded the mountains, breathing in the piney air swooping down from their rugged peaks.
The thought of Haluma on the other side of those leering pinnacles was a slamming reminder of the enemies now hunting me.
A warning of the retribution sure to come.
The worst was that I deserved whatever came for me.
I closed my eyes when that familiar feeling of being caged breached my defenses. Deep breaths.
In.
Out.
Judd sighed. “I can’t imagine the difficulty of aligning with who you once believed was your enemy.”
I was still sorting through the maze of truths and distortions.
I chanced a look at the general. “I still don’t know that you’re not my enemy.
But you’re a lesser evil than the King.” I pulled a few long blades of grass, twisting them in my hands.
“I always thought you brought in Glint. Delah only recently revealed the connection between it and Nolan.” How many times had she tried to expose the lies, only for me to silence her?
“That’s the twisted story Nolan uses to further his own interests.
” He sat down beside me, his shoulder near my own.
“In the beginning of his reign, he started the Vestal Anchor program—a way to harvest magic. He has a refinery where he synthesizes Glint from Berine. It’s connected to the water treatment system so he can pump Glint into the water supply. ”
Hells. The fountains throughout the city. My breaths wavered.
Pity softened the hardness of his words.
“Berine absorbs magic, but refined, Glint siphons it. He incrementally drains his own people. The purpose of his light orbs is to absorb the siphoned magic. When they become saturated they sink lower and burn brighter. It’s why he sends workers to replace them.
They’re collected and the stolen magic creates the dreki. ”
I tore at the weeds and grass beneath my fingers. A tremble stole through my body and I couldn’t speak. I had to hear this though. I needed to. I did not sense a lie.
“Vestal Anchors were once all Primes. They were the ones with the strongest magic, the richest resource to siphon from. The King stood to gain the most from them. They were rounded up and drained. He wanted Primes of his own, so he created the dreki from them.”
My understanding of the world tilted on its axis. I thought of Delah next in line to become a Vestal Anchor, my stomach bottoming out. Judd kept speaking.
“The Liberation established itself as a haven for escaped Primes. Our numbers increased as more people filtered out of Haluma and wandered into Yarit. They sought safety, away from the thrall of Glint and the threat of Nolan. We built up and warded Aphellion, and the Liberation has worked subversively ever since to try and undermine the King and prevent more Berine from flooding into his realm, strengthening him. Xuri’s mother narrowly escaped that first recruitment.
” He paused, gathering himself, his eyes glassy.
He spoke of Xuri and her mother with such fondness. They clearly had a history.
I stared down at my fingers as he spoke, absently braiding long blades of grass. Xuri had offered me a glimpse of her dying mother, the pain of the memory sharp and bitter as if it had been my own.
“Primes almost never leave Aphellion. She insisted on entering Maripol again, to search for the girl in her visions. Unfortunately, her presence was swiftly discovered. We didn’t get to her in time and the withdrawal symptoms of Glint destroyed her mind and eventually her body.”
This information settled like land after an earthquake.
Everything had rearranged, the topography forming new shapes, though the ground itself remained the same.
Something itched, writhed beneath my skin.
Something I had compelled to stay inside all these years.
I had ignored my intuition. I had colluded with a deceiver.
I avoided the cracks in Haluma’s recorded history because they threatened to break the dam of King Nolan’s carefully constructed lies.