Page 153 of Sands of Atonement

He mouthed to me, Kill me.

My heart thudded once more.

It was as if he were begging me to.

I saw red. I grabbed the butter-knife in front of me on the table and lunged for him as Norrah brushed past him. But an Atrovian nearby snaked his arm around my waist, and I screamed for her, for my friend. “Norrah! Don’t go! Norrah!”

The back of Norrah’s head disappeared into the darkness of the tunnels. I kicked the man behind me, but I was so weak I couldn’t even manage to hurt him. I couldn’t think clearly, but I couldn’t stop trying. I had to do something.

Gabriel tilted his head toward Targon. “I’d rather not waste my time pretending I like to do business with you, Targon.” Gabriel turned and followed Norrah down the dark hallway.

I took a deep, shaky, watery breath. “I’ll fucking kill you, Gabriel.”

I trembled against the Atrovian’s arms. I fought and fought, but it was fruitless. The door slammed shut, vibrating the candles and the table in the room.

The Atrovian dropped my body, and I scrambled to my feet. I whipped toward Targon with red, wet vision. “I will never forgive you for this.”

“This is politics, my darling. Have I not taught you anything? I’m surprised, to say the least. I thought I raised you better than this. This shows me you’re not ready for anything. Nothing that I had in store for you.” He shook his head in disappointment. “What a shame.”

I refrained from blurting out what I knew. The only weapon I had now.

I knew with all my heart that he was an animal.

I would have my revenge. For my family, for Ezra, for Casimir, and for Norrah.

“I expected more from you, Eshe. Don’t disappoint me like this next time.”

Targon waved a hand in my direction before diving into his full plate of food. Suddenly, I was being pulled back to my prison chamber, but I couldn’t stop the aching dread that pressed against my chest.

Chapter 38

Ezra

I was breaking and entering into my own home.

A home that had been mine for the last four years. It was no longer Targon’s. He lost that privilege when he deserted his own men. I felt my skin crawl with murder on my mind.

One black boot stepped in front of the other again. I crept through my own dark-lit hallway. The familiar musky scent of wet limestone stuck to the walls as I brushed my fingers along the side. Over my shoulder, Casimir followed closely behind. None of our servants survived the attack. Casimir hadn’t been his usual self since then. I didn’t expect anything less after losing his lover, no matter how short-lived it was.

We’d been traveling since the night of the ambush, back to the Atrove. I explained everything to Casimir: my leadership, the Atrove, what I knew of Targon. He wasn’t surprised and told me he had suspected something like it.

I hadn’t stopped thinking about Eshe and Norrah. I could only hope that they had made it to somewhere safe, perhaps back to Urnaz. But knowing Eshe, I wouldn’t be surprised if she made her way toward Crahst and her brother. That scared me the most.

Not knowing which direction she had chosen.

Twenty more feet down this tunnel and we’d be there.

I followed the path to the only man I trusted to take care of the Atrove when I was not here. Pulling the white hood further over my face, I noticed Casimir had done the same. If anyone walked through, they wouldn’t recognize either of us.

Ten more feet.

We turned a curved corner, and my ears perked for any sounds other than Casimir’s heavy footsteps behind me.

My heart pounded.

As soon as we approached, I pulled the linen tapestry to the side and walked through, my brother right after me.

The sliding of the chair made a large man stand up, whirling toward me.