The Traitor's Game

  "Take us upstairs," I ordered the dungeon guard. "Now."

  "Yes, my lady."

  He escorted us up the stairs to unlock the door that would take us into Woodcourt, placing us back in the servants' area, which appeared to be empty. Even here, the contrast from the dungeons was so sudden, it almost took my breath away. How could such horror exist directly below the plush carpets and fine wooden floors that I had once trod upon so casually?

  Before leaving us, the guard offered me a slithery smile. "No offense, my lady, but you're the prettiest prisoner we've had in the cells since I've been here."

  Trina made a gagging noise and shut the door in his face. Then she shoved me against the wall with her forearm pressing at my throat. "Did you tell your father to arrest those people?"

  I pushed her back. "If you want to fight, then I will win, and I'll make you fix my hair when it's over." Trina wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, her chest heaving in anger. "I didn't know about this, I swear it. Do you think I'd let them arrest Rosalie, after what I've already done to that girl's life?"

  "Maybe you don't care," Trina said. "Just when I thought you were different from the Dallisors, this happens!"

  "How many of those prisoners were Coracks?" I wasn't sure why that question mattered to me, but it did.

  Trina shrugged. "There were what, twenty people brought in? Maybe more? I'd guess less than five were Coracks. What are you going to do?"

  Did she think I could fix a problem on this scale? "You know what Lord Endrick has planned for me tomorrow--what power do I have to change this?" I leaned against the wall, fighting the urge to run until this nightmare faded into memory. Rosalie had stared directly at me, and if there had been any expression in her eyes beyond blame and disgust for ever having met me, I didn't see it. And then there was Tenger.

  Trina's voice became venomous. "Listen carefully. If those prisoners don't go free before the end of this night, I will leave Woodcourt and order Darrow's death. The Coracks will blame you for these arrests. All our future attacks will be targeted on Woodcourt, and on you specifically."

  "Nothing I say could possibly help them!"

  "Then do something! I swear to you, Kestra, I will follow through on my threats. If Tenger is dead by morning, then so is Darrow."

  "I'll take care of it," I said, pushing past her and walking toward the library.

  "How?" She was following so close behind me that she practically stepped on my heels.

  I didn't answer. Mostly because I had no idea how to fix this. But I would. Whatever the line was between loyalty and treason, I was surely about to cross it.

  Gerald met me on the way to the library, his brow creased with concern. Was that because of his fear for my safety, or for whether the diary had been returned to its hiding place? Other than Darrow, my greatest worries were focused on the diary. I didn't know whether I'd get the chance to move it from the library shelves and put it back under the desk again, especially now.

  After a quick assessment of my appearance, Gerald offered me a polite bow. "My lady, I am relieved. You look none the worse after that visit to the dungeons."

  "I'm no better either." My anger at Gerald wasn't fair, but I felt it anyway. "Did you know what was in the diary when you gave it to me?"

  He shook his head. "The day Lady Dallisor died, I snuck that key away from here and sent it to my people. The key was not supposed to return to Woodcourt until it came in your hands. No one but Lady Dallisor has read that diary, not even her husband."

  I wished I could discuss its contents with Gerald, though it probably didn't matter now, and this open hallway was no place for such a dangerous conversation. Two nearby maids surely heard me whisper to him the only thing I dared say: "I don't want to know the things I now know."

  "Life doesn't give us what we want. It gives us what we need and asks what we will do with it."

  "Don't speak in philosophies, Gerald. You should have warned me."

  He gave a quick bow. "Yes, my lady. I assume you are here to see the master? That's why you were allowed to leave the dungeons?"

  A sudden weight pressed on my shoulders, but through it, I asked, "Where is he? In his library?"

  "Of course. I'll take you there."

  I had half-expected to see Simon near the library. He would've come here to gain permission for my release, and should've known I wouldn't be far behind. Maybe he'd been sent on other errands. It would have helped to see him.

  Gerald knocked on the door and we were allowed to enter. "Sir Henry," he said, with his customary bow, "your daughter is here." I said nothing, and certainly did not curtsy.

  My father was standing near the library's window, gazing out on his land, the colors of his fields cooling along with the weather. "Wait in here, my blue friend." That was undoubtedly meant as an insult, reminding Gerald of his place.

  "Yes, Sir Henry." Gerald offered me a weak smile before bowing his way over to the back wall. He made an excellent spy, one who was perfectly willing to humble himself before a man he surely hated, all to remain trusted. Lacking Gerald's humility--lacking any humility whatsoever, actually--I could never be so successful.

  Now my father turned, furrowing his brow as he looked me over. Normally, I would have returned his stare, pretending to feel as indifferent as he always was, but this time, I found it hard to look at him at all.

  He began, "How are you feeling, Kestra? Your neck?"

  "Did it bother you to watch him do that to me?"

  "Of course it did. Though it wouldn't have happened if you had been wiser."

  "Well, I am much wiser now." In ways he could not anticipate.

  My father had been walking a circle around me, surveying my appearance. But now he stopped in front of me. "It could have been worse. The Lord of the Dominion has always been powerful, but by the end of the war, he had the power of all Endreans. You know that he placed all that magic within the Olden Blade, made of a metal that could neither rust nor rot, and left him immortal. What most don't know is that this act weakened his remaining abilities, requiring constant replenishment in the Blue Caves. What power he does have left, he uses to its full effects, even on a Dallisor, if necessary."

  The question I had in mind was risky, but it might be my only chance to ask him. "So there is an Olden Blade? It's not a myth?"

  "Of course there is a Blade, though it's been lost for so long, I doubt it'll ever be found." He retreated to his desk. "All of Woodcourt has been searched for it, beyond even the places Risha Halderian had access to."

  "What about her servant? The Endrean?"

  "Whatever magic she might have had was depleted by the time she was arrested. When I executed her, it was a life that ended in a flash of nothingness, just as Risha's did." His nostrils flared. "I hope you understand that if you disobey Lord Endrick, he will order your death too."

  My answer came before I could think better of it. "If I wanted to die, I could just get married. Isn't that right?"

  He looked up, eyes widened, but he quickly pasted over any expression of guilt with the same sternness I used to see when he ordered me to finish my supper or to stop digging in the gardens. How could he feel so little for me? This was worse than indifference. This was ...

  The answer came to me like a stab wound in the heart. It was exactly what Trina had said. This was evil.

  When he spoke, there was no emotion whatsoever. "You will agree to the marriage for tomorrow night, I trust?"

  I swallowed the swell of pain within me, and said, "I will, on one condition."

  The relief in his eyes was immediately replaced with disgust. "The Lord of the Dominion does not make bargains. He's ordered you to marry this boy and you will."

  "I will, if you agree to my terms. Otherwise, I will stand up with that boy beneath the marriage arch and when I'm asked if I accept him, I will publicly denounce Lord Endrick, and you."

  "You would betray us?"

  "I would tell everyone the real reason for my marriage. If
that's a betrayal, then so be it!"

  "Hateful child!" he spat at me. "What your mother ever saw in you is a mystery. What are your terms?"

  "Several prisoners were brought into the dungeons just now."

  "A proper response to those who attacked you at the inn the other night."

  "Not one of them is responsible for that. They are innocent." At least, of that particular crime. I couldn't claim anything more for Tenger's innocence.

  "They are enemies of the Dallisors. That is enough. They will be executed at midnight."

  I stepped forward. "Release them, as a wedding gift to me. It's the only thing I will ask of you before I'm married."

  "I will not free them, Kestra, nor will it be the only thing you ask of me today."

  Something in his tone worried me, but I held my voice steady. "Oh? What else do you think I'll ask?"

  "Forgiveness." He reached into a drawer of his desk and withdrew my mother's diary, letting it drop on the desk with a harsh thud. "Because if I don't forgive you, then I must execute my own daughter. How dare you break into my library and steal this?"

  My heart crashed against my chest, all pretenses of indifference gone. No doubt, behind me, Gerald had stopped breathing too.

  "When I was in here this morning, it had fallen to the floor." He'd know I was lying, but this was the best I had. "I assumed it had fallen from the shelves, so I replaced it. The book is locked anyway."

  "It's locked for me, perhaps. Do you know what's inside this book?"

  "Do you?"

  He pounded a fist on the desk and stomped toward me, angry enough that I immediately backed up. My knife was within reach, if necessary, but I knew I wouldn't use it. Nothing in me was capable of that.

  "Have you read this diary?" he yelled.

  "Sir Henry, the fault is mine," Gerald said, inching forward. "I was cleaning in here last night and accidentally found the book. I thought I replaced it, but I must not have done so."

  "No, it wasn't like that." I couldn't let Gerald take the blame.

  "It was like that." He stepped forward, placing himself ahead of me. "Your daughter probably didn't realize whose book this was, so of course she wouldn't have thought anything of putting it back on the shelves. I'm sorry I didn't report it to you, Sir Henry."

  "You've disappointed me, Gerald."

  Tears filled my eyes. I'd heard him say those words before. For Dallisors, the other end of disappointment was death. "Please don't harm Gerald," I said. "This is all my fault. Punish me if you will. Not him."

  "It's all right, my lady." Gerald's voice was so calm it unnerved me further. "We each have our roles to fill. I know mine, and you know yours."

  "Her role is to become the wife of Sir Basil of Reddengrad. Until that happens, Kestra, you will remain confined to your room. Gerald, you will report to the dungeons to pay for removing this book from my desk."

  "That is no crime!" I yelled. "The book is sealed shut. Even if he found it, he could not have opened it. And I am the one who put it on the shelves, not him!"

  "A Dallisor would never take the blame when it can be assigned to an inferior!" he shouted back. "Nor do we defy the orders of our superiors, as you take such pleasure in doing. You are no Dallisor!"

  "And you are no father of mine!" I shot back, with greater fierceness. "I will always love my mother, because she loved me. But from this moment forward, you are only Henry Dallisor to me. I will never call you Father again."

  "I never wanted you to call me Father to begin with." His whole body was shaking with rage. "Report to your room. If you are found anywhere else until your marriage, I will have you killed where you stand."

  "No, you won't. You would never disappoint Lord Endrick that way. I know his plans for me, your plans for me. And I will do everything in my power to stop them!"

  Before Henry could reply, I swerved on my heel and marched from the room, slamming the door shut behind me. It took every bit of strength I had to stifle a scream for the hurt within me. Henry Dallisor had severed the final thread in our rags of a relationship, yet I was the one who felt the cut. But I couldn't let any of it show. Not here, and not now. Gerald was seconds behind me, on his way to the dungeons. I couldn't face him, not after failing at the one thing he had asked when he gave me that diary. I had promised to replace the book where it belonged. He would pay for my failure.

  "My lady?" he called. "Please wait."

  I stopped, but didn't turn around. Could not turn around.

  "What more can I do for you?" he asked.

  "Gerald, no. It's my fault--"

  "A guard will be sent to your room soon to verify you are there. I have a few minutes before I must report below."

  I licked my lips, wishing I had any choice but to ask more from this good man. "How much would you risk to help me?"

  His answer came quickly. "Everything."

  I hoped he was sincere, because that was exactly how much I needed. "Wait for me in the tower. I have something to give you, and a request I wish I didn't have to make."

  "Yes, my lady." After a quick bow, he left, and only then did I realize my guilt with a harsh gasp that crushed whatever was left of my heart. Gerald had agreed to my request too quickly, without knowing the risk he was about to undertake. He had offered his life to me, and might yet lose it because of me, and for all that, there was one thing I dared not ask for: his forgiveness.

  And that would torture me in a way that Lord Endrick never could.

  I hadn't intended to come back to Lily Dallisor's room, but the diary had required it of me.

  How strange it was to enter her apartments again, more carefully this time, ensuring that no one had seen me. This was of utmost importance. Not only was I supposed to be confined to my own room, but now, I was here for the most dangerous of reasons. It wasn't to renew my memories of being held in my mother's arms, or dancing around the gardens with her, or our sneaking pastries together from the kitchen late at night. It was nothing so pleasant this time, though I suspected this memory would outlast any other of my lifetime.

  In skirts, it was harder to slide under the bed than it had been in the trousers. Last night, I'd wanted to find a hidden blanket under here, and failed. I hoped that I wouldn't fail now. I couldn't fail.

  The boards propping up the mattress had shifted last night. They shouldn't have. The weight of the mattress would hold the boards in place ... unless there was a gap between the mattress and the boards. A false bottom perhaps?

  I squirmed into place beneath the center of the bed and took a deep breath before raising my arms. To be sure, the consequences of failing here were grim.

  But the consequences of success terrified me.

  I pushed on the first board, which easily slid aside. Dustball tufts came down with the shift, falling on my face and no doubt dirtying my dress, but I brushed it all aside and pushed on the second board.

  When this one separated, something fell on the floor behind me, landing with a heavy thud. Still on my back, I froze, certain all of Woodcourt must have heard it too. I had warmed a clearstone in the room, but beneath the bed there were only shadows. I did observe the fallen object was wrapped in a burlap sack and was about the length of my arm from elbow to fingertip.

  The Olden Blade.

  I already knew it was, but the absolute simplicity of having found it so easily astounded me. For seventeen years, the Dominion had been seeking this dagger, searching endlessly for any clues as to its whereabouts. They would have interviewed every person who came into the remotest contact with Risha and Anaya. They would have bored holes into the floors of the dungeons, carved into the rock walls, and sent servants to search every crevice on pain of death if they didn't come back with the Blade in their hands.

  I'd merely crawled under my mother's bed and shifted around a few boards. It had taken me less than three minutes. Of course, I'd had an advantage: the diary. If the situation were not so serious, I would have laughed at the absurdity of it all.

  I
f Trina were here, she'd probably faint with joy, wrap me in a hug, and pledge eternal friendship to me. Simon ... I didn't know how he'd react. Nor would I ever find out, I supposed. Not if I stuck to my plans.

  I lay there for longer than I should have, listening to the pounding of my heart and the sound of blood rushing past my ears. The consequences of any decision I made now would change everything. What was the right answer? What choice might keep me alive? Or free Darrow? What would save Antora?

  I genuinely didn't know.

  A cock crowed outside, warning me that time was passing too quickly, and that it couldn't be much longer before a guard would come to ensure I was in my room. If I was found here, everything would be lost. Starting with my life.

  I dragged the burlap bundle out from beneath the bed and then sat up, leaving it on the floor directly in front of me. After a few deep breaths to find my courage, I carefully untied the twine that held it together, unfolding each layer of burlap until the Olden Blade revealed itself.

  It wasn't nearly as exotic as I would have expected and, in fact, didn't look much different from the knife I'd left behind in the music room last night or any of a dozen others one could buy in the finer shops of Highwyn. It was longer than a regular knife, though now that it was unwrapped of all its layers, the Olden Blade was smaller than it had seemed to be before. The Blade was made of Dirilium, a metal often mistaken for steel but with the strength of diamonds. The handle was highly polished and caught the light from every angle at which I studied it, and it was dotted with violet amethysts that seemed to glow with the magic inside them.

  This had been Lord Endrick's prime weapon, and remained the source of his immortality. Risha once threatened that immortality, but she was gone. Antora needed a new Infidante, someone to challenge Endrick. Risha Halderian's heir.

  I didn't know who that would be, but the list of who I didn't want was long and growing.

  None of the Halderians who had tried to kill me three years ago. That was unacceptable.

  Nor any of the Halderians who had let it happen. They'd been cowards.

  Not Tenger, if he belonged to their clan. A streak of cruelty ran through him that bothered me.

  Not me.