Page 196 of The Stolen Throne
He practically shouts the words, and I wave him quieter. “Just help me.” I make sure he can read my lips.
Cain nods. In minutes, we have it positioned on the other side, dropping down into the courtyard.
Basement window.
Pella told me she blocked a basement window in our building. Maybe whoever found her other blocked gates missed that one.
Fear beats inside my chest like a caged lion, but I throw a leg over the wall before I can talk myself out of it.
“What are you doing?” With a hand on my arm, Cain tries to stop me.
“Tabra.” Pause, then… “Vos.”
I guess he reads my lips, because his lips press into a thin line. “Go.”
I’m up and over and climbing down, Cain right behind me. Achlys and Tziah behind him. A handful of Wanderers follow the son of their zariph. I hit solid ground and crouch there for a second before I start sneaking along the foundation of our building, checking every window at ground level. The others catch up with me, and we make it around two of the three sides with no luck.
I edge around the corner just as a voice calls out, “Stop in the name of the king!”
Soldiers run around the corner we just came from. At least twenty of them. We’re outnumbered. As far as I can tell, not a glassy eye is to be seen among them. That’s something, at least.
I barely register that thought before they point their weapons directly at us. What? I know we’re in here after the gates have been shut, but I’d rather break the rules and be with people who aren’t possessed by bloodthirsty urges.
“We are the king’s guests,” I announce in my best royal voice. “I am Queen Tabra of Aryd. Lower your weapons immediately.”
“We have orders,” one of them, I guess he’s leader, says.
That doesn’t sound good. “What orders?”
He draws his lips back in a sneer. “Outsiders aren’t allowed to witness Rites…on pain of death.”
Cain and I exchange a grim glance.
They allowed us in for a reason. Why so long, though? Why not kill us the first night?
Unless…
Cain says what I’m thinking. “Our welcome here has been a trap all along.”
84
Betrayal
A trap. They wanted us to feel safe enough here to stick around. But for what? To be killed by their rabid healed? No, that would be too simple. Plus, they’d have no way of knowing if the queen of Aryd was ill or that she wouldn’t be healed. Even if that’s exactly the situation with Tabra.
Which means something worse is coming.
“I hope you brought more men than this,” I tell the man in charge sweetly and watch the tension crawl up the shoulders of the soldiers behind him.
“We have more than enough men to handle you,” he replies.
If the situation wasn’t so dire, I’d laugh. Clearly the Tropikans think the Wanderers were stupid enough to give up all their weapons. They’ve seriously underestimated us. Even outnumbered, I’d put my money on the Wanderers every time. “You picked the wrong day to follow orders.”
I look at Cain, who gives a piercing whistle, then jerks me out of the way.
“Scourge!” his people yell.
The clash is immediate and violent and chaotic. Cain corrals me and Tziah and Achlys against the wall of the building, letting his brethren charge around us. Sure enough, the Wanderers produce a plethora of weaponry—telescoping bows, staffs, spears, and urumi belts that they use as part whip, part razor-sharp blade. They fight like the possessed Flesh Reapers.
