Page 9 of Deliverance


  I wish I had Jeremiah’s map with me so I could figure out where we are in relation to Hodenswald, the next closest city-state, but the map, along with my bag of spare tech supplies, my extra clothes, and my weapons, is in my room at the hospital in Lankenshire.

  The Commander will know how to get to Hodenswald from here. I just have to hope that once we recover the device, he still agrees that I’m necessary to his efforts to take down Rowansmark.

  Actually, hope has nothing to do with it.

  My horse’s hoof slides through a damp patch of dirt, and I take a second to lean down and brush the print away with the leafy bough I’m carrying as I ride at the back of our small group. My left hand aches in dull throbs, and I handle the branch carefully to avoid bumping it against the stump of my missing finger. It isn’t easy to carry the bough and keep my seat on my borrowed horse while my hands are wrapped in chains, but I’m not about to complain. I might need these chains for a weapon.

  I fully expect the Commander to try to kill me as soon as we recover the device. Part of me wants to let him try. Let him take up his sword against me and learn a permanent lesson about what happens when a leader abuses his power and pushes his people to the breaking point. If I couldn’t defend myself against him with my chains like I did inside his dungeon, Willow could simply shoot him with an arrow.

  A shrill whistle interrupts my thoughts, and I look up to see Willow swing out of her saddle and leap into the cradle of a huge oak. Knots in the wood have created holes the size of my fist across the trunk. She looks from me to the hole closest to her and then back again.

  We’ve found it.

  The Commander and his men ease to a stop and dismount.

  “Where is it? In that tree?” he asks. “Bring it down.”

  Willow pauses, looking to me for direction. I understand her hesitation. Once we give him the device, our bargaining chip is gone. We’ll have to hope he understands that he needs me if he wants to disarm the tech in the northern city-states and strengthen this device enough to have a prayer against Rowansmark’s armies.

  “If you’re considering breaking the terms of our deal, think again.” The Commander’s voice cuts through the morning air. “I saw what you did with the arrows in the dungeon, girl, and I came prepared.”

  A knot forms in my stomach as two of the new guards whip arrows into their bows and aim them at Willow. She’s stuck, her feet on a branch, her body wrapped around the trunk while she reaches for the hole that hides the device.

  She’ll never get out of the way in time.

  The cold rasp of a sword leaving its scabbard stings the air and the Commander grabs my cloak, pulls me from my horse, and shoves me against the nearest tree, his blade already at my neck. I don’t raise my hands to block him. I can’t. If I make a single wrong move, both Willow and I are dead. The Commander already knows where the device is. Our leverage is gone. All I have left is the faint hope that his need to destroy James Rowan outweighs his need to destroy me.

  “Perhaps we could discuss this matter with civility, rather than with weapons,” Connor says as he spurs his horse forward so that he can grab the reins of the riderless mounts who stand quietly like the battle-trained horses that they are.

  “Perhaps you should hold your tongue before I cut it out of your head,” the Commander snaps.

  “I told you it was a mistake to bring the old man out here,” Willow says, her eyes on the two arrows aimed at her body. “I told you he’d stick a knife in our backs because he’s too stupid to see the value of keeping alive the people who can actually stop this piece of tech from malfunctioning and who can disarm the tech in the other city-states.”

  “Better shut that little girl up, or I’ll let my men teach her the same lesson I’m about to teach you.” The edge of his sword catches against the skin on my neck.

  “They’d better kill me on their first try,” Willow says, her voice low and furious. “Because if they don’t, I’ll rip them apart limb from limb.”

  The Commander’s smile is vicious, though he doesn’t break eye contact with me. “Oh, they won’t miss. The consequences for failing me are too painful for them to consider.” His sword presses closer, and I struggle to hold still as blood seeps down my neck and into my tunic. His dark eyes bore into mine. “I don’t allow those who disobey me to live. Your mother learned that the hard way. Now, so will you.”

  “She wasn’t my mother.” The words are poison running through every warm childhood memory I have. The scaly oak trunk behind me digs into my back as I do my best to shrink away from the Commander’s sword.

  The Commander’s scar twitches. “I see you’ve learned a thing or two since we last spoke.”

  I swallow, wincing as my throat scrapes his blade. Choosing my words with care, I say, “I know I’m your investment. Your insurance against James Rowan’s plan to subjugate all of the city-states. I know my father finished the invention, but that it isn’t the only one. It isn’t even the strongest one. My brother had a controller with more power the day we called the Cursed One outside of Baalboden.”

  “You mean the day you tried to kill me.”

  “The day we tried to kill each other.” I keep my voice calm even though I want to drive my fist into his face. Beat him until he falls to the ground and bleeds the way my Baalboden mother bled. Watch him tremble in fear the way Rachel trembled after she saw him murder Oliver in front of her. “My brother was tracking the package that was given to Jared. He followed us to Baalboden, and he sent the beast into your city. He destroyed everything you’d built. And while he was doing that, other Rowansmark trackers were approaching the rest of the city-states, offering them a deal.”

  “I know about the deal.” His voice is angry, but he eases up a fraction on the sword.

  “According to Clarissa Vaughn, all of the city-states took the deal. They paid the protection fee and allowed Rowansmark to install beacons throughout their towns.”

  “Not my allies.” He sounds proud.

  “Yes, your allies. Thorenburg and Schoensville committed troops to Rowansmark. Their armies are waiting for us at Rowansmark And the city of Carrington is gone. Destroyed when they remained loyal to you.” I meet his gaze while he glares at me, looking for a lie that isn’t there. “We learned it hours ago from Clarissa Vaughn, leader of Lankenshire’s triumvirate.”

  “He’s right,” Connor says. His eyes dart between me, trapped by the Commander’s blade, and Willow, surrounded by guards ready to fill her full of arrows. “We received the news just before I brought the terms of Logan’s deal to you.”

  The Commander’s eyes flicker toward Connor, and I quietly wrap my hands around the length of chain that dangles below my wrists, tensing my legs in case I need to fight my way out of this.

  Not that I can fight my way out of this. Not with a sword already slicing into my throat.

  “If you kill us, how will you make sure this device doesn’t malfunction when you arrive at Rowansmark?” I ask, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. If he thinks I’m challenging him, he’ll drive his blade into my neck. “How will you convince the northern city-states to violate their protection agreements unless you can disable the beacons and promise them safety from the tanniyn?”

  His lips curve into a sneer. “And I suppose you just want to help me out of the goodness of your heart. There isn’t a single part of you that hopes to catch me off guard, steal the tech for yourself, and leave my body in the Wasteland.”

  “Not while the Rowansmark threat remains.” I meet his gaze. “My brother destroyed my city and then murdered my friends as we traveled to Lankenshire. Now he’s taken Rachel hostage, and he won’t release her unless I show up at Rowansmark with the device.”

  “That girl isn’t worth half the trouble she’s caused.”

  My pulse pounds against my ears. “She hasn’t caused trouble. Rowansmark has. The tech, the murders, the destruction . . . it all goes back to them. You knew this would happen when you heard rumors o
f my father’s invention nineteen years ago. You know James Rowan can’t be trusted with this much power.” Neither can the Commander, but he won’t live long enough to try it. Not if Rachel and I have anything to say about it.

  His angry expression turns thoughtful, though his sword remains steady. “You really do want to take down James Rowan.” He says the words like he’s trying them on for size.

  “I do.”

  “With me.”

  “Yes. There are three armies waiting for us. At least one controller that is stronger than ours. And we’d be fighting on the terrain Rowansmark uses as a training ground. We need your credibility with the northern city-states to convince them to give us troops. We need your military expertise to win the war. And we need my ability to disarm the beacons, strengthen our device, and if I have time, replicate it.”

  He leans closer, the blade sliding painfully against the scarred brand he gave me the first time I was his prisoner. “How do I know you won’t betray me the second I take off your chains and treat you like an ally?”

  “Because I would do anything to save Rachel.” The words are heavy with conviction. With the one truth I have left. With Rachel.

  His smile makes me feel sick inside. “Women have always been your weakness. First your mother, now Jared’s daughter. You even defend the Tree Girl.” He eases back a fraction, and I take a careful breath, trying hard not to let more skin catch against his blade. “A word of advice: Showing your weaknesses makes you easy prey. We do this my way, on my terms.” He spits the words in my face. “I’m in charge. The very second you do something I don’t like, I will torture the Tree Girl. You know I have ways of breaking a woman and making her beg.”

  “How about if you beg first?” Smithson’s voice fills the air a millisecond before he bursts from the trees and slams into the Commander.

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  CHAPTER TWELVE

  LOGAN

  The Commander’s sword nicks my throat as he stumbles to the ground beneath Smithson’s weight. I raise my hands and press them against the wound. Blood flows over my fingers as Jodi runs toward Smithson while Frankie, Drake, Adam, and Nola charge the guards who surround Willow, their swords raised.

  One of the guards with a bow spins and lets an arrow loose. His arrow flies past Nola and buries itself in Drake’s leg. He falls to the ground.

  “No!” I yell.

  The other guard shoots his arrow at Willow, but he’s too late. She’s already skimming the branches, nothing but a blur in the trees as she moves. Frankie and Adam collide with soldiers. I bend down, yank Smithson and Jodi off the Commander, and yell, “Help me before anyone dies!”

  Smithson glares at me while the Commander snarls and struggles to his feet.

  “Logan—” Smithson says.

  “They aren’t our enemies right now, Smithson. I just made a deal with the Commander.”

  Smithson stares at me as if nothing I’m saying is making sense. The clang of swords meeting fills the air behind us while I pull on his arm. “No one needs to die. Help me.”

  My words finally seem to reach him, and he lunges toward the melee where Nola, her back to a tree, is dueling with a guard whose movements are slower than hers, but whose brute strength is starting to wear her down, and where Adam and Frankie are fighting for their lives while four guards circle them. A fifth guard is still wasting his time trying to shoot Willow, though she never stays on one branch long enough for his aim to be worth anything.

  “Subdue, but don’t kill,” I say as Smithson and I race into the fray, leaving Jodi to catch up to us. He raises the hilt of his sword and slams it into the head of the closest guard, and then kicks the guard’s sword clear as the man falls to the ground in a daze.

  I brace my legs as I swing the chain into the nearest guard. He jerks away from the metal lash, but doesn’t fall. Panic is clawing at me. I have to get closer. Hit harder. Stop him. Stop all of them before anyone else gets seriously hurt.

  “Stop!” I’m yelling, but no one is listening.

  Lowering my shoulder, I duck beneath the guard’s sword arm and crash into him, my shackled fists in front of me like a club. He coughs, gags, and slowly slides to the ground, the life leaving his eyes as he falls. I stare at him in shock. I didn’t hit him hard enough to kill him. I was just trying to get everyone to stop long enough to realize that we’re on the same side.

  Long enough to go help Nola before it’s too late.

  The guard lands on his stomach, and I see Willow’s arrow protruding from his back. Another arrows streaks through the forest and buries its tip in the back of the guard who shot Drake, and then a third arrow takes out the guard Smithson fought on his way to Nola.

  Frankie and Adam are trading blows with two of the remaining guards, their swords moving with the deft grace earned from hours of practice as we traveled across the Wasteland, while Smithson is doing his best to subdue Peter, the blond guard busy fighting Nola.

  Blood runs down Smithson’s face, and I stumble over the fallen guard in front of me as Orion and Frankie crash into me.

  “Stop!” I yell, shoving Orion away from Frankie. Orion turns on me, and it’s all I can do to dodge his weapon. The chain dangling from my wrists isn’t any help when I can’t move my hands along the length of it to gain any leverage. He raises his sword, and Adam lunges for him.

  They go down hard in a tangle of limbs and metal. I kick Orion’s weapon away, but Gregory, the thin guard who walked the tunnels with the Commander, leaps for Adam while he’s down. I lower my shoulder and drive it into him, knocking him off course before he can impale Adam on his sword.

  “Don’t kill them!” I say, but still no one listens to me. Adam is parrying Gregory’s sword, blow for blow; Frankie is shoving Orion against the nearest tree, his sword to the guard’s throat; Nola and Smithson have their hands full fighting Peter; and Willow is somewhere up in the trees, waiting for her chance to drop the next guard who steps away from us. “We’re on the same side.”

  The Commander’s voice punctures the air. “Stop fighting or she dies!”

  The guards stop fighting, but keep their weapons up. My people and I spin around to see the Commander standing near the tree where just moments ago he’d come to a grudging agreement to work with me to bring down James Rowan. In one hand he holds Jodi, anchoring her by his side with a fist in her hair. In the other, he holds his sword to her heart. Blood gleams against his silver blade, and I quickly examine Jodi for injuries, but she isn’t bleeding. Instead, I see Connor leaning against the tree behind the Commander, his hand pressed to a wound in his shoulder.

  “Connor?” I take a step forward, and Jodi whimpers as the Commander presses the point of his sword against her chest.

  “It’s merely a flesh wound,” Connor says, his voice tight with pain.

  I glare at the Commander. “You stabbed the Lankenshire ambassador assigned to vouch for us at Hodenswald?”

  The Commander’s mouth twists with derision. “Foolish boy tried to rescue the girl who attacked me.” He gives Jodi a rough shake. “I don’t care where he’s from. If you think you’re man enough to draw your sword against me, then you’re man enough to take what’s coming to you.”

  I tear my gaze away from the blood dripping down Connor’s arm, and look into Jodi’s wide, terrified eyes. “Jodi, it’s going to be okay. Don’t move. Everything will be okay.”

  “You’re a liar,” the Commander says, malice dripping from every word. “A liar and a thief. These are my people. Look at their cloaks. Their boots. Baalboden made. They’re my people, and you had them attack me.”

  “We aren’t your people anymore,” Frankie says.

  I reach over and squeeze his shoulder, both in appreciation for his loyalty and in warning that now isn’t the time to antagonize the Commander further. Jodi squeaks as the Commander yanks her
hair back and raises his sword.

  We can’t stop him. He holds Jodi in front of him, an effective shield against Willow’s arrows. The three guards surrounding us still have their weapons up. If we move, they’ll attack. We’d never get to the Commander in time to save Jodi.

  I scramble madly for a plan, but only one scenario presents itself. Slowly, I let go of Frankie’s shoulder and raise my wrists.

  “I’m not attacking you,” I say as I take a small step forward. “I wasn’t attacking your guards, either. I was trying to stop everyone. I was trying to tell them that we were all on the same side.”

  “We are not on the same side,” Adam snarls from my left. “He had his sword to your throat.”

  “Logan’s right,” Connor says. “He was negotiating an alliance with the Commander to work together to assure Rowansmark’s destruction.”

  Adam’s shoulders drop, and he looks at Jodi with desperation on his face. I know the feeling. “You didn’t know,” I say quietly. “You were protecting me. All of you. It’s not your fault.”

  “No, this is your fault,” the Commander says. “Did you really think you could distract me with talk about Rowansmark and then have these traitors attack me so you could steal the device for yourself?”

  I take another step toward him.

  “I didn’t know they were coming. I’ve been inside the Lankenshire dungeon since right after you arrived at the gate. None of them were allowed to visit me—”

  “You expect me to believe this wasn’t planned?” He bites his words off.

  “Logan didn’t tell us where to find him. Willow did,” Adam says. “She sat beside me during Logan’s trial, and she told me they were going to escape the dungeon and meet at the tree where she’d hidden the device.”