Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
KATELL
They hurried down the corridor after Nik. He’d just regained the Achaeans’ respect, yet he was risking it all to help her escape. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
The palace lay in tense silence, every shadow watching. They slipped out through a small wooden door into the outer gardens. A rush of cold air struck her, sharp against her bare skin, and she rubbed her arms. She should’ve asked Alena for a cloak.
Above them, the moon was gone from the starless sky. Nik’s torch blazed like a beacon for any patrols, but without it, they’d be blind in the maze of hedges and overgrown paths.
Katell cast him a sidelong glance. He moved with urgency, no hesitation in his stride. He hadn’t faltered for her. That kind of loyalty—it shouldn’t have meant anything. Yet it did. Far more than she wanted to admit.
They pressed on until they reached a stone alcove carved into the garden wall, half-hidden by tangled vines and drooping branches. Nik stopped, gesturing to a heavy wooden door. Its surface was weathered, the hinges rusted, and two faint torches flanked it.
“There,” he said, voice low. “That door leads outside the palace into a maze of back alleys. Keep north and you’ll reach the city walls before dawn. I’ll help cover your escape.”
He passed the torch to Alena, who caught his arm, aghast. “No, you can’t go. You’ve worked too hard to win back their trust.” She added more softly, “Don’t give the Tirynthians another excuse to turn on you.”
Nik looked ready to argue, but Katell stepped between them. “There’s no need. I’ll figure out the rest on my own. A weapon would be nice, though.”
She had wasted too much time in Tiryns. Her thoughts were already racing—to Tarchun, to the Twelfth, to the senseless killing she had to stop. And beyond that, to Dodona. To Leywani.
Alena and Nik exchanged a glance, silent understanding passing between them.
Then Nik untied the scabbard from his belt. “Take my sword.” He handed it to her with a crooked smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Try not to stab anyone on your way out.”
Katell unsheathed the weapon in one smooth motion. The weight settled into her hand as if it belonged there. She spun it once, quick and sure. The balance was still perfect despite the months since she’d last wielded an Achaean blade.
When she looked up, Alena had moved a few paces away, her attention outwards. Nik lingered closer, raw emotion she couldn’t quite place etched across his features.
Irritation flared through her. Just because he’d confessed his feelings didn’t mean he had a claim on her. He had no right to care. She was returning to the legions. If they met again, it would be as enemies on the battlefield. He needed to worry about himself, not her.
She opened her mouth to tell him so, but he stepped closer, and the words dissolved. The garden, the torchlight, even Alena nearby—all of it faded until there was only him. Shadows clung to the curve of his jaw, torchlight casting him in sharp relief, outlining the tension in his brow.
In a voice low and full of promise, he murmured, “If you ever need help, Kat, send word, and I’ll come. No matter what.”
Katell stood motionless, the sword in her hand, breath caught between protest and surrender. She should’ve snapped at him, reminded him of the opposite sides they stood on.
Instead, her heart ached under the weight of his words. The emotion in his gaze held her captive. She didn’t want to feel the pull of something deeper—but it was there, undeniable.
He stepped back, shadows swallowing him until the torchlight slipped from his shoulders.
Katell stared after him, pulse racing.
A sound broke her trance.
Alena turned sharply, eyes wide. “Go!” she hissed. “One of the patrols has found your room unguarded. They’ll be after you soon.”
Katell belted the sword at her waist. She’d need all her strength to break through the bolted door ahead. The noise would draw soldiers, but there was no other way. She’d have to be fast, lose them in the winding alleys, and reach the Maiden’s barrier before they caught up.
How she’d cross it without Pinaria and Arnza’s help, she didn’t know. That was a problem for later. First, she had to get out of the city.
Shouts erupted deeper in the palace, jolting her into motion. She’d barely taken two strides when Alena’s whisper drifted after her, almost lost in the night air. “Goodbye, Kat.”
The words struck like an arrow to her heart. Her steps faltered, stopped cold by the quiet finality in her sister’s voice.
Torchlight flickered along the palace walls, dancing closer. The guards would be on her any second. But her feet refused to move.
In the next breath, she pivoted on her heel, boots crunching the gravel, and strode back to Alena. Without a word, she pulled her into a fierce, desperate embrace.
Alena froze, startled—but only for a heartbeat. Then her trembling arms closed around Katell, as though she, too, had been holding something back.
They clung to each other in the dark, silence thick with all the words they couldn’t say. Katell breathed in her sister’s familiar scent, the warmth grounding her in a way she hadn’t felt in months.
“Be safe, little star,” Katell whispered, swallowing past the lump in her throat. She pressed a soft kiss to Alena’s hair, holding the moment a heartbeat longer before pulling away.
Alena nodded, her breath catching as she fought to hold herself together. Tears shimmered in the moonlight, tracing bright trails down her cheeks. When she finally spoke, her voice cracked with emotion. “Go. Please… just go before they catch you.”
Katell cast one last glance at her before dashing towards the gate. With a swift motion, she lifted the wooden beam blocking it. Footsteps pounded closer, echoing through the garden. The soldiers had arrived.
Nik seized Alena’s arm, pulling her into the shadows, their gazes locked on Katell.
“Go! Go!” Alena mouthed urgently, her green eyes pleading for Katell to hurry.
Without hesitation, Katell rammed her shoulder against the door. The metal bolts strained, but the oak held firm.
“There she is! Stop her!” a voice shouted behind her.
She shoved again, muscles burning, then once more until the bolts snapped free. With a final, determined push, the door crashed open, and Katell slipped into the city streets beyond.
“She’s getting away!”
Katell glanced back at the doorway. She couldn’t let the soldiers follow her—if they reached the streets, they’d chase her all the way to the Maiden’s barrier. She had to stop them.
Clicking her tongue, she unsheathed her sword, ready for a fight she had hoped to avoid.
As the soldiers neared, their faces lit by flickering torchlight, a sudden brilliance sliced through the dark.
Blinding blue light cut the air like a blade.
Frost raced up the walls, freezing everything it touched.
The icy tendrils wove together across the doorway, sealing it with a thick, crystalline barrier.
The soldiers halted, trapped on the other side.
Leukos.
A small smile tugged at Katell’s lips before she turned and dashed north through the streets.
The Twelfth’s camp lay in an unusual stillness, early morning mist wrapping the tents and barricades in a soft grey haze.
Only the faint crackle of embers from dying campfires and the distant clink of armour broke the silence.
Katell strode through the gates, startling the guards, but she didn’t slow, her focus set.
If anyone gave her trouble, she’d knock them out—just as she had the Tirynthian guards at the city walls. Slipping out of the city had been easy enough, but what surprised her most was the Maiden’s barrier. It had let her pass without so much as a scratch.
She hadn’t had time to process what that meant. She needed to find Arnza and Pinaria, gather what she could, and leave for Dodona before the legate caught wind of her return.
Dorias and the Black Helmets would have to wait. She needed to see the Freefolk and Leywani with her own eyes. Which meant the quarry would be her first stop.
Her breath frosted as she approached the tent she had shared with Pinaria and Arnza. Outside, Arnza crouched by the fire, stirring a pot. The familiar scent of simmering broth and herbs made her stomach rumble.
Arnza looked up, eyes widening. “Laran’s shield, Kat! You’re back!”
He spoke too loudly. Without hesitation, she gripped his elbow. “Not here,” she whispered, dragging him into the tent. The thin fabric flapped shut behind them, muting the outside world.
Pinaria, still bundled on her cot, startled awake. She blinked. “Kat, is that you?” Her voice cracked with sleep, but her eyes were sharp, searching Katell’s face.
“It’s me,” Katell murmured. A flood of relief surged through her, tangled with the tension of the past few days. She was home, surrounded by her people, yet a strange emptiness gnawed at her—as if she’d left pieces of herself behind in Tiryns.
Arnza blinked, looking confused. “How did you—?”
“I escaped,” she cut in, unwilling to dwell on how Alena had let her go. “I need to leave before the legate hears I’ve returned. I need a map, supplies, weapons, and a horse.”
Pinaria was already pulling on her armour over her tunic. Outside, the fire crackled low, its glow barely reaching through the seams. “What? Why? Where are you going?”
“Some place called Dodona.”
“Dodona. Isn’t that a stone quarry?” Arnza helped fasten her chain mail. “We heard there was a slave rebellion. The First was sent to put it down.”
“The First Legion?” Katell’s heart stalled. “The one led by Legate Tarxi?” She remembered him clearly from the celebration in the Western Lands—the legate who could control minds. The one Dorias had called a snake.
Arnza exchanged an uneasy glance with Pinaria. “Yes. Word is he’s handling the rebellion personally.”
Katell’s blood ran cold. The tent suddenly felt too small, too hot. “I have to go. Now.”