The Traitor's Game

  And the way she was looking at me now. Drawing me in, a willing moth to the flame.

  This was the girl who'd nearly gotten me killed six years ago. The girl who surely had been making plans to try again since the first second of her capture. She could not be trusted. I knew that.

  Just as I knew I should not be leaning in to her.

  Kissing her was the last thing on my mind.

  But there it was ... on my mind.

  Something in the bedroom made a sudden crashing sound. We startled apart, the moment severed between us.

  "I know you, girl," the Halderian in the room said. "Don't I?"

  Trina murmured something inaudible and laughed nervously, but Kestra caught my unguarded reaction. There shouldn't be any reason for a Halderian to recognize Trina.

  A new man entered the room, reporting, "She's not here. Maybe she did leave."

  "Is Kestra hiding somewhere?" This was the first man speaking again, more sharply now. "This is your last chance to answer."

  It wasn't clear whether that question was addressed to the innkeeper or to Trina, but the innkeeper made a high-pitched gasp. "I serve the Dallisor family as they serve the Lord of the Dominion." His denial was followed by a sharp cry.

  Just as before, Kestra tried to push forward, but I held her back. She shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. She pushed at me again, but I cupped my hand around the back of her neck and drew her to me. Her head turned sideways against my chest, and the desperate clutch of her hand on my arm soothed some of the anger within me. I held her tighter as her body trembled with sorrow, but she remained quiet.

  "Don't kill me." The innkeeper's pained voice pled for mercy. "If you have any message for Lady Kestra, tell it to me. I will be sure she hears it."

  "The Halderians are organizing, and we're coming for her again," a man said. "To anyone who stands between us, that is the message."

  Trina cried out as the innkeeper grunted and a body fell to the floor. Had they killed him?

  Kestra pulled away from me, her expression one of horror. As much as she wanted to get out of this hiding place, surely those men had made it clear how deadly serious they were about finding her.

  She had the same seriousness about her as well. She raised a knife--my knife, in fact, stolen from the sheath at my waist. I scowled, knowing I'd been tricked. We'd deal with that issue later, because I guaranteed there'd be a fight about this. But for now, I grabbed her arm and pressed it against the back wall, which instantly cracked. The brittle wood was older than I'd thought.

  Kestra's eyes sparked. She wouldn't dare.

  "No," I quietly warned.

  But she did. She raised a leg and kicked it backward against the same panel. The wood didn't break entirely, but it splintered enough to let a wisp of air through.

  "What was that?" the first man asked. "You all, stay here and find out where that sound came from. I'll go outside!" He must've been talking to the other Halderians in the room.

  I grabbed Kestra's shoulders, hoping to stop her from breaking through to the outside wall, but her expression was fully defiant. When she kicked backward again, a small hole opened. Behind it, the trunk of the oak tree could be seen.

  The Halderians began pounding on the right side of the wall, trying to break in. They'd eventually find the door.

  Kestra kicked yet again, widening the hole.

  "There'll be more of them outside," I hissed. "You'll fall right into their arms!"

  "Come out!" a new man ordered, addressing me. "I have your girl!"

  Trina gasped, so I knew the threat was real. "I can't open the panel!" she shrieked. "I don't know how it's done!"

  Furious at Kestra, who was still bent on widening the hole she'd made, I shoved open the secret door, drew the sword that had been at my side, and charged into the room.

  The man closest to me was wiry in build, carrying a horseman's axe that most Halderians favored. He raised his weapon, still coated in the innkeeper's blood. So far, Trina appeared to be safe. I took the aggressor's stance and locked blades with him.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Trina lunge toward the secret cupboard, but Kestra was already climbing through the hole, which was barely wide enough to squeeze through.

  I didn't know if Kestra could make the jump between the hole and the tree, but it was clear she intended to try. While I finished this fight, Trina would have to follow Kestra.

  "You're insane!" Trina scowled.

  "I'll survive." Kestra's words were clearly a taunt. "Not sure if you will."

  "Kestra?" Getting his first good look at her, my opponent seemed to forget about everyone else in the room. "You must come with us!"

  I used the distraction to thrust my blade into the man's gut, feeling his pain for myself, as I always did. He fell, but other footsteps pounded up the stairs. More Halderians. My only option was the hole Kestra had made. She must've made a successful jump, because Trina immediately followed. Through the hole in the wall, I heard Trina say, "I hate you, Kestra. I really do."

  By the time I got to the hole, Kestra had already shinnied to the ground and was wrangling one of the Halderian's horses. Trina was shouting at her to hurry, that more Halderians were coming.

  There was no time to think, or even to beg the heavens' forgiveness before I jumped. The first tree branch I grabbed quaked beneath my weight, then broke almost immediately. I fell past three or four other branches, failing to slow myself down, then landed on a thicker branch below it and from there, simply dropped to the ground. The bruising in my feet tomorrow would be brutal.

  To get into the saddle, Kestra had used my knife to lengthen an existing tear in her skirt halfway up her leg. The fact that she knew how to ride astride was surprising. Girls of her status all rode sidesaddle, if they rode at all. But Kestra knew exactly what she was doing.

  Another problem I'd have to deal with after we escaped. If we escaped.

  Meanwhile, Trina had taken the reins of another horse into her hands and shooed the rest of the horses away. She was making it impossible for the men to follow.

  Which they would try to do. I already heard yelling that we were outside.

  I scrambled to my feet, and although Kestra tried to maneuver her horse away from me, I got hold of one rein and yanked the horse toward me. I swung into the saddle behind her and rapped the horse's side with my heels.

  "I can handle this horse just fine!" she scowled. "Why don't you get your own?"

  "Because I know you can handle this horse just fine. Were you escaping with us, or from us?" I sped up the horse enough to discourage her from attempting to slide off, then called to Trina. "Let's get off the road!"

  Trina checked the skies. "The moon will go behind the clouds soon. We'll have the darkness on our side."

  We left the road and headed into a patch of weeds, which would openly expose us, but if we weren't spotted, we'd soon be in the trees, where it would be much easier to hide. Trina was keeping up behind us, though she was hissing at Kestra the whole time.

  "You never should've kicked through that wall! You gave away your hiding place!"

  "I had to, based on the stellar way you were handling things!" Kestra snapped.

  We angled back toward the inn. Trina cursed my decision until she understood my intention: The building would mask us. The men would likely split up to search the area, but I doubted they'd think to look behind the inn itself.

  It would have been better to enter All Spirits Forest, on the opposite side of the road. Magic was said to exist there, both for good and for evil. For that reason, the Halderians wouldn't be stupid enough to follow us in. But I wasn't stupid either.

  As soon as we were deep enough into the woods behind the inn, I growled at Kestra. "Kicking out that panel could've gotten us all killed, including you!"

  "Well, maybe you should've threatened someone else!" she replied with equal force. "I'm sorry this kidnapping isn't going the way you wanted! Did you also want to thank me for saving your l
ives back there, or are you angry about that too?"

  "I'm definitely angry," I said, and I meant it. Despite that, I smiled. "But maybe one day, I'll return the favor and save your life."

  She frowned back. "Coming from someone who's currently threatening my life, you'll forgive me for doubting you."

  For a moment, I'd forgotten that we were on opposite sides of this rebellion, and yes, that if anything went wrong with the plan, I had my orders from Tenger. But the first night with Kestra wasn't over, and I'd already begun to wonder if I could fulfill those orders.

  Simon led us over a small hill where the brush became too thick to continue. We moved slower now, which helped to soothe everyone's ragged nerves. By the time Simon stopped, both he and Trina seemed as tired as I felt, too weary to argue anymore.

  "They won't find us here," Simon said. "I think we're safe to rest and wait out the night." Hopefully he was right.

  I ignored Trina's complaints about how she hadn't slept for even an hour back at the inn. Did she think I'd have sympathy, or that I'd care? Thanks to her, I'd barely slept at all. The exhaustion was making me dizzy.

  Simon dismounted, and this time I did accept his steadying hands at my waist. That was better than falling onto the ground, which I might've done. But rather than releasing me, his grip tightened. "Give me that knife."

  I didn't want to. "A knife is the most basic of weapons," Darrow once taught me. "Learn it first and learn it well."

  I pulled my hand free from Simon's and backed away. "What if they come again?"

  Neither of them had an answer for that. "No one knows we're here," Trina finally said. "They came to the inn because your servant told them you'd be there. Darrow betrayed you."

  "He wouldn't. There must be another explanation."

  "He betrayed you, Princess." Simon had begun tying up the horses and barely looked at me as he spoke. "Get used to that. There's nobody you can trust."

  "Including you two?"

  Trina snorted. "If you ever try a trick like that again, trust me to make your kidnapping seem like a birthday party."

  Simon walked up to me, the curl of his lip a clear signal of how little patience he had left. I raised the knife to defend myself, but he grabbed my forearm, pinching until he forced the weapon's release. "Get some sleep, Princess."

  "Stop calling me that--you know I'm nothing of the sort." I sat down against a tree and stifled a yawn. "The Lord of the Dominion rules alone."

  "As long as you act like a spoiled princess, that's what I'll call you," he said.

  I swallowed every retort that would have started yet another fight, then turned away from them both, hoping when I woke up, all of this would have been a dream. Burying myself into the folds of my cloak, I realized this was nothing so simple as dreaming. My life had become a nightmare.

  Simon shook me awake before dawn. Instinctively, I flung out a fist, catching his shoulder hard enough to knock him backward. He chuckled as he rolled back to his feet. "Not a morning person, I see."

  I reclined again, eager for even a minute or two more of sleep. "Go away."

  "It's a five-hour ride to Highwyn. Stand up, or I'll pull you to your feet."

  "I've got to figure out an excuse for the slit in my gown and wounds on my wrists. If my father sees me this way, I'll be in serious trouble. Come back in an hour."

  He grabbed my hand and pulled me to a sitting position. I opened my eyes, more irritated than awake. At least he looked as tired as I felt. Trina came into focus behind him, in a yellow dress trimmed with a beaded blue sash. My dress, my sash, both of which had been left behind at the inn. That got my attention, and I stood, pointing at her. "Where did you get that?"

  She pointed to a clump of bushes nearby. A blue dress with a patterned skirt and cropped vest had been laid over it, kept off the damp morning ground.

  "You went back for these?" I asked.

  "Simon did during the night. This blue dress has very long sleeves. We think they'll cover your wrists."

  Simon reached into a pocket of his trousers and pulled out a handful of gold coins. "I also found these in your trunk. My payment for having to deal with you."

  "The sack that Thorne--one of the Banished--brought to the inn, did you get that too?"

  His gaze remained steady. "There was nothing in it of value. Only a lure to draw you out from your hiding place."

  "What was it?"

  He shook his head. "I already told you. Nothing of value. Get dressed. I'll go water the horses."

  After he'd left, Trina tossed the blue dress at me. I thrust it back at her. "You're my lady-in-waiting. You dress me."

  She threw it at me again. "I'm not your maid. Dress yourself."

  "If you want anyone to believe you're a maid, you'd better know how to do it."

  "Maybe you're the one who doesn't know!" Trina's smile became smug. "That's the truth, isn't it? You don't know how to dress yourself."

  I knew how to do it, obviously. I'd just never had to do it. But it was irrelevant. I didn't see how the ability to dress oneself mattered. If Trina was my superior, then how had she failed to notice the leaves in the back of her hair from where she'd slept?

  I tossed the dress onto another bush and started walking away. "When we arrive at Woodcourt, I'm going to blame you for my appearance. I assume you know what happens to lazy servants of the Dallisors."

  Trina muttered a string of curse words, all of them aimed at me, and then grabbed the blue dress. This one was more complicated to put on than most, with crossed ribbons on the front that needed to be laced at the back. A row of buttons also ran up the spine, tiny enough to frustrate even the most patient servant. I wouldn't be surprised if Trina quit before she finished dressing me. Celia had threatened to do just that the last time I'd chosen to wear this dress.

  Celia. I wondered what was happening to her right now. Her screams still haunted me.

  "Before we leave, we should talk about your first task once you're home," Trina said. "Somewhere inside your father's home is a diary that I need to read."

  "Whose diary?"

  "I can only say what it looks like."

  I rolled my eyes. "By chance will it look like a book?" If this was a sample of what it would be like to work with Trina, I would soon die from prolonged exposure to idiocy.

  Trina's impatience took the form of an extra-hard pull on the ribbons of my dress. "It will be covered in pink satin with flowers hand-sewn into the fabric."

  "A woman's diary, then," I mused. "Risha Halderian's?"

  "Perhaps. Or Anaya's, her servant, who went into the dungeons with her. Anaya was Endrean, just like Endrick. Maybe her magic allowed her to hide the diary."

  "Her magic could save a diary, but not her mistress's life?" I chuckled, communicating how ridiculous I thought this entire notion was. "If you're right and Risha brought a diary into the Woodcourt dungeons, what do you suppose happened to it? Do you think she was given an ink and quill, and perhaps a comfortable sofa where she could recline as she wrote out her plan to kill Lord Endrick?"

  She said, "Just find that book. It will lead us to the Olden Blade."

  Trina tugged at another ribbon, cursing me for owning such a complicated gown, as if I'd care that she was irritated. If anything, I was disappointed in myself for not having been awful enough to make her abandon this plan, just to get away from me. It wasn't for lack of trying.

  She added, "The diary might have belonged to someone else too. All I can tell you is that it's vital to our plan. We find it, and we find the Olden Blade."

  I sighed again, louder this time. "Let's pretend you're right--because there has to be a first time for everything--and there's some special diary at Woodcourt containing the secret to all the mysteries of life. If it's just there to be read, then it's been studied a thousand times, searched for any clues about the location of the Olden Blade. But you, who probably can't read your own name, think you will find something new in those pages?"

  "I will." Trina was a
ll business, just as she was all heart. By then, Trina was working on my hair, pulling at it so roughly that I fully expected to be bald before she finished. When she had formed it into a clumsy sort of plait, she said, "Beauty hides your ugly heart."

  I swerved on her. "Is this about those forty people my father executed? Because if so--"

  "If I listed all the reasons I hate you, we'd be here until sundown. Let's go find Simon."

  At least that meant we were leaving. I'd choose a torture rack over spending another minute alone with Trina.

  Simon was saddling the horses as we arrived. I assumed our travel would take place as it had last night, with Trina on one horse, and Simon and I on the other. That way he could keep control of me. Or believe that he was.

  "I have questions," I began. "Are the Banished still in the area? Do they know you're after the Blade?"

  "It's more important to focus on what happens when we get to Highwyn." He barely looked at me as he spoke. "Your story will be that thieves attempted a robbery of the inn. Darrow was killed but I rescued you and your handmaiden here. Don't say anything more specific than that."

  I huffed. "I was being entirely honest before, Simon. This plan, to get the dagger, will fail. We can't just walk into the dungeons and ask to search them, and even if we do, we won't find it because it's not there. Please go back to Tenger and release my servants. It might be the only chance any of us has to survive."

  "Get on the horse or we'll drag you behind it," Simon said. "We're not giving up."

  He didn't know it yet, but those words were about to become his biggest problem. Because I wasn't giving up either. Not even close.

  Kestra rode sidesaddle in front of me, with Trina on the mount behind us. I held my arms away from her as I managed the reins, a necessary inconvenience. Foolishly, I'd lowered my guard with her last night, which could've gotten us killed. I wasn't about to let that happen again.

  We rode in silence, with thick woods on one side and a vast stretch of farmland on the other, probably owned by loyalists who were granted use of the land in exchange for the donation of soldiers to the Dominion. Lower-class Antorans could farm, but before they pulled their first crop from the ground, half of the land's yield would go to the Dominion. Some of it would end up on Kestra's supper table without her asking once where it had come from.