“Zara.” Devlan awakens me from my daze. “It’s time.”
Fallon rises from her chair, and I notice for the first time that she’s about the same height as me, maybe an inch or two taller. “Devlan gave you a communicator?” I nod, and she holds out her gloved hand. “Let me program my frequency.”
I scrunch my face. “But isn’t that dangerous? What if someone taps into it?”
“Our transmission is secure, and we have the best hacker masking our signal.” As I pull the device from my bodice to hand it to her, she raises her eyebrows. “Exactly where I keep mine.” She winks.
After we say our goodbyes to Silas and Fallon, we hurry through the camp. It’s early morning, and in a couple of hours the castle servants will be rising to start their work. Madity won’t come for me until the sun is up, but we need to be inside the castle before there’s movement.
My limbs are weak, and I stagger a little as I attempt to mount Fireblood. Devlan catches me around the waist. “Here.” He gets atop Fireblood before reaching down. He grasps me under my arms and pulls me up, placing me in front of him. I’m too tired to argue that I am strong enough to ride from behind, and I lay my head on his chest.
My eyes close as he takes the reins in one hand and his horse lurches into motion. His other arm holds me to him. The crickets, the rocking of the horse, and the warmth enveloping me from Devlan’s body nearly lull me to sleep, but the plans made in the Rebels’ tent continually circle my mind. They flap like angry bats and bare fangs, biting, keeping me awake.
The Rebels believe Sebastian will take me to meet the king. They don’t know where King Hart’s secret chamber is located, but they speculate it’s far away from the castle and well-guarded. I’m to learn how to fight with my hands as well as weapons, small lethal ones I can sneak in under my clothes.
I’m to become an assassin.
I’ll take out the guards while Sebastian is under the influence of a poison—a sleeping potion—that I’ll give him before we enter Hart’s chamber. I’ll steal the antidote to the Virus. I’ll discover the location of the control room that houses the mainframe he calls Excalibur. Afterward, I’ll convince Sebastian that a citizen killed his father—a ghost of a man whom we’ll invent—who can be falsely accused without the threat of Sebastian seeking revenge. Over his grieving period, I’ll sway him to join the Rebels, take down the barrier, and save the Taken.
As Fallon, Devlan, and Silas plotted this absurd plan, I nearly bolted from the tent.
I am not an assassin. I have no idea how I’m to do all these things asked of me.
And if I should fail to convince Sebastian in the end? If I discover he’s in on his father’s operation, he becomes factored into the plot. Fallon stressed that we must try to save Sebastian first. I don’t want to think of what measures must be taken if Sebastian is aware of Hart’s project. I can’t. I’ll take it one step at a time, and discern the truth for myself.
The only thing that keeps me from going mad is my father’s face on that monitor—the lost look in his once-loving eyes, the pallid gray of his skin. And I can see no other holding a blade to Hart’s throat.
I can’t fail.
We stop, and I open my eyes and glance around. Even in the dead of night the meadow is beautiful. I didn’t take the time to notice before, as I was running for my life, but the stars’ reflection shimmers in the river, and a wisp of fog diffuses the moonlight, illuminating everything in an unearthly glow.
I want to look at everything more closely now. Never miss a moment.
I don’t know how long I’ll survive this mission.
“We need to walk the horse through the opening,” Devlan says softly.
I nod against his chest, and he slowly lowers me to the ground. My brain is so tired and my body so completely drained, I feel as if I’m in a dream. Nothing feels real. My legs are numb, and I sway as I walk the bank. Despite everything—all that I now know, all the fear that envelopes me—a peace settles in my core.
My father is alive.
“Zara.” Devlan walks up behind me. “I need my tunic. It’ll be difficult enough to explain why we’re out at this hour. No reason to have the servants gossiping as to why you’re wearing my shirt.”
“Oh, right,” I say over my shoulder. “A scandal would botch things pretty good.” I lift my arms, heavy with exhaustion, and only get his shirt past my waistline when Devlan’s hands cover mine. A slight flutter prickles my stomach as he slowly guides the tunic up, and then over my head. He stands there a moment longer. His body heat presses against my back, the sliver of air between us a taut current.
I cease breathing until he steps away, and then I inhale the earthy woods. My mind is too tired, and I’m allowing sleep deprivation to have its way with paranoia. Not all men allow their hormones to lead. Especially Devlan. He wanted his tunic. It’s that simple. He wants me to become an assassin and help take down the barrier. He’s trained long and hard for his mission. I shake my head. I need sleep.
When I turn around, he’s dressed and taking Fireblood by the reins. I shield myself from the cold, wrapping my arms around myself, and carefully step along the boulders of the brook.
Once we’re both through, he turns to me. “Ride with me. I can lead Hawken behind us.”
His offer is the most tempting thing I’ve ever heard. My whole body wants to drop, but I have to stay strong. I need to get stronger. “I can ride.”
His brows pull together as he stares down at me, but something in my voice must convince him. He nods once, then helps me atop Hawken. After he mounts his horse, we ride hard toward the castle. My arms, legs, and feet become numb as I grip the reins and hold on with my knees, the freezing morning air biting into them. But I hold on. Just a little longer till I can fall into my bed.
We reach the stable, and Devlan slides off his horse and unlatches the gate. He walks Fireblood toward the glass door, and I hunker lower to Hawken’s back as I follow, feeling exposed. I have to trust that Xander, the knight watching my chamber, would alert us if anyone suspected I was missing.
Devlan enters his code and the beam scans his image. “Devlan,” I whisper. His head snaps to me. “It scanned me before. Won’t I—”
“It’s been taken care of. I sent Larkin to the monitoring room to delete the log. He’s the only member of our unit among the Force Round Table.” My chest relaxes, and relief settles over me. He takes out his communicator as we enter the stable. “We’re back,” he says into the device, then puts it away. “He’ll now erase that one as well. Now, we don’t talk about this from here on out.”
He helps me down from the horse and I lean against the stall. Everything is in sequential order, one thing happening and then the next. I move and act as if programmed.
Devlan leads me to the back of the stable, lifts up a trap door, and we climb down. I’m too drained to question as he leads me through a dark tunnel. My brain connects where we are once we enter a low-lit room. Where this night started out. The secret chamber in the castle.
“This is only used by us,” he says. “And only in emergencies. The risk of being seen by anyone in the stable or the Eyes is too great. So only, only in emergencies.” He stresses these last words.
Once I’ve slept and have time to process everything, I’ll think to ask more questions, but right now all I desire is my soft bed and the warmth of my covers. We slip down the corridor, Devlan continuously scanning, and reach my chamber. I’m so thankful I nearly fall into my door.
“Princess Zara,” he says, and I only slightly acknowledge he’s taken on the guise of the first knight again. “Feign ill tomorrow. There will be too many questions from your maid and Sebastian as to why you’re so tired.”