Gathering Darkness
Page 27“Perhaps that wasn’t the only reason.” She twirled a long lock of her pale golden hair around her fingers. “You have a connection with the prince now. You need to find out if Prince Ashur and Princess Amara could possibly be our allies, as you suspect. I can’t afford to turn my back on any possibility at this point.”
His heart thudded loudly in his ears. “I don’t know.”
“Nic, please. You have to be brave. For me. For Mira. For everyone we’ve lost. I empathize with your misgivings, but this is more important than a kiss. You need to go to Prince Ashur and find out if he can help us.”
Damn. He couldn’t refuse Cleo this request, not if it might mean all the difference in the world in getting her throne back.
“I don’t know when I can get away from the palace to pay a visit to the Cortas’s villa,” Nic said. “My leash is nearly as tight as the king’s hounds’. And, to be honest, Cleo, I’m not totally convinced we would be wise to align with them so soon.”
“You’ll have to be subtle.” Cleo’s expression was haunted with worry. “But Ashur approached you personally. He won’t consider it strange if you speak with him in private again. Our futures are on the line, Nic. The future of Auranos and all of its citizens is at stake.”
“That’s a lot of responsibility.”
“Yes, it is.” She looked up at him, her eyes filling with hope. “So will you do this for me? For us?”
A thousand thoughts surged through his mind, half rooting for and half ruling against this request. But in the end, only one thought remained.
“Of course I will, Cleo.”
JONAS
AURANOS
It was only last night that Jonas received the news from Nerissa, a former seamstress and currently an invaluable rebel aid. She had managed to coax the names of the imprisoned rebels from the lips of a palace guard, and, had written them down on a note she’d left for him at a tavern in a nearby town, their established meeting place.
When Jonas read the names, he’d nearly shouted for joy
Cato, Fabius, Tarus . . . and Lysandra. All confirmed as prisoners in the palace dungeon.
But he’d sobered quickly.
To be alive and held prisoner at the whim of the vicious Limerian guards and the bloodthirsty king could be a fate worse than death.
He would do anything—anything—it took to free Lysandra and the others. And he hoped tonight’s journey to the city would be another step toward that goal.
“Far be it for me to question you,” Felix said, “but in the event that this plan doesn’t work, do you happen to have another one?”
“I’m still surprised your key rebel is a girl.”
“My key rebel is a girl, but she’s not Nerissa. Still, I don’t know what I’d have done without her.”
Felix shrugged. “To me, girls are meant to be pretty companions, not rebel comrades. They’re good for washing our clothes and preparing meals after a long day.” He flashed Jonas a grin. “And, of course, they’re excellent for warming beds.”
Jonas eyed him with an edge of amusement. “You might want to keep that opinion to yourself when you meet Lysandra.”
“She’s not pretty?”
“Oh, she is. Extremely pretty, in fact. But she’ll hand your arse to you on a rusty platter if you ever ask her to cook your meals or wash your clothes. And especially if you invite her to warm your bed.”
“If she’s as pretty as you say I might try to change her mind.”
Jonas’s grin widened. “Good luck with that. I’ll be sure to bring flowers to your grave.”
Felix laughed. “So, do you think your contact will show?” he asked as they entered the City of Gold. After going on a couple of scouting missions and further confirmation from Nerissa, they learned that security had been ramped up to the highest level ever. Sneaking into the palace would be impossible.
“We’ll soon find out,” Jonas replied. To be cautious, they both wore long, hooded cloaks, but, despite the heavy presence of guards—at the gates, stationed in the towers around the city walls, patrolling the streets by foot or on horseback—no one paid much attention to them.
Finally, they reached their destination, and Felix swept his gaze over to the well-traveled cobblestone road. “I’ll patrol out here. If anything feels wrong, I’ll signal you.”
“How are you going to signal me?”
“Trust me, you’ll know.”
Trust me.
So much about Felix reminded Jonas of Brion that trusting him was a gut instinct. It was so easy to pour his soul out over their campfires each night, telling Felix about what had gone wrong, and how Jonas wished he could fix it so everything would turn out the way it was supposed to. Right back to that fateful day when he and his brother, Tomas, had returned to their father’s wine stall to find a lord and a princess from a neighboring kingdom making a purchase.
Life had been hard but wonderfully simple before that day. It wasn’t as if Jonas was fighting to turn back time. No, he didn’t want that. What Paelsians needed the most was truth and freedom. With those two prizes they might be able to find a way to rule themselves. No throne required.
“Hey.” Felix clasped Jonas’s shoulder. “Don’t fret. It’ll be fine.”