The Warrior's Curse (The Traitor's Game 3) - Page 36

By then we had reached her room. I kissed her cheek, but when I began to back away, she took my hand.

“We do need to talk, Simon.”

I understood, but my gut was too twisted for conversation. I mumbled a terse “Not now,” the most I could utter in that awful moment.

She stared at me for what seemed like a very long time. “Yes, of course.”

I dismissed myself, then went to my own room, where I shut the door, slid down the wall, and held my head in my hands. Maybe I had done the only thing I could, but I had never felt more miserable in my life.

If Kestra still trusted me at all, I had betrayed it.

I had just doomed her.

Joth and I had returned to our upper-floor shelter in Highwyn. As the morning streets began to fill with merchants and their customers, I sat near a broken window to hear the passersby bargaining for goods and trading in gossip, namely the fate of the Ironhearts we had killed only a couple of nights earlier.

“Who could have done such a thing?” they’d ask each other.

Not one of them knew the answer. Not one of them guessed that within easy distance of where they stood was the girl responsible for their deaths, the same girl who had one more death ahead of her—Lord Endrick’s.

The countdown to Antora’s freedom was now numbered in hours.

The central advantage of our location was the clear view of Endrick’s palace. Through careful observation, it was obvious that he knew something was coming. The entire palace was surrounded by more Ironhearts. Oropods with well-armed riders patrolled the streets throughout the city, looking for any sign of trouble. Carnoxen were held behind thick iron fences, ready for release in the event of an attack. The giant condors flew overhead, and I had no doubt that whatever they saw, Endrick also saw.

But he would not see me until it was too late.

After a couple of days of careful planning, Joth and I felt ready to launch the attack on Lord Endrick. Every detail had to be accounted for: Where in the palace would he be? How could we maintain the element of surprise? Once the attack began, would the Ironhearts defend him, or abandon him?

If only we had answers to any of our questions. Even the simplest questions had serious consequences. Was it possible to further curse the half-lives into nonexistence? If so, would Endrick do it? And most troublesome of all: What if Simon and the others with him tried to interfere with our plans?

“We must go tonight,” Joth said. “Every day that we delay increases the chances of the others joining us.”

That’s what he always called them: the others. Simon and Harlyn and their Halderian army, which was surely on its way. The Coracks, who were beginning to gather from all parts of Antora. The Brill and, we suspected, even what remained of the armies of Reddengrad had already arrived.

Whispers rising from the street said they called themselves the Alliance, and that they were led by a young Halderian king no one had ever heard of.

A young Halderian king I tried very hard not to think of. If I was going to survive this, he had to be only one of the others, one of many who would soon bow to me when I took the Scarlet Throne for myself.

And it would happen tonight.

“I agree,” I said to Joth. “It’s time to act.”

With little else to do, I continued polishing the Olden Blade, and now I could clearly see my face in it. I didn’t know why I had put so much effort into the blade—a shine made no difference in how sharp my stab would be. But still, I continued to polish.

Joth placed his hands over mine. “Are you worried?”

“Yes.”

He leaned in closer to me, but I refused to acknowledge him.

“You’re still angry with me?” he asked. “Because of the Ironhearts?”

“What if Simon’s sister was one of our victims?”

“If she was, then it’s because the Ironhearts pose a threat to our reign. We cannot leave any of them alive, unsure of their loyalties. But when we rule from the Scarlet Throne—”

I looked up. “I will take the Scarlet Throne. I am its heir. And I will rule alone.”

He stood, his body stiff with sudden anger. “Alone? You have not gotten this far alone, nor will you complete your task alone.”

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen The Traitor's Game Fantasy
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