Gathering Darkness (Falling Kingdoms 3)

Reluctantly, the blond released Jonas.

Felix shoved the bald man but didn’t sheath his knife just yet. “Do we still have a problem here?”

“No problem.”

“Good. Now be off with you.”

Without another word, they scurried away.

Jonas knew he was having an off night when it came to watching his guard. On a normal day, he could have handled the two of them on his own without intervention.

It was embarrassing, really.

“Do me a favor?” Felix said, finally putting his weapon away.

“Sure.”

“Keep that hood up over that famous face of yours. It’ll make things much simpler for us if you don’t get recognized again. Got it?”

Jonas nodded with a jerk of his head. “Got it.”

• • •

The Silver Toad was owned by a rebel sympathizer who had readily agreed to let Jonas to use the tavern and inn when needed. Tonight the tavern was packed wall to wall with people celebrating the Day of Flames, spending all they had on wine, their coins glittering beneath the lanterns hanging from the rafters. Before he’d entered the tavern, Jonas had caught another glimpse of Petros nearby.

The boy continued to celebrate the goddess with his dangerous fire displays outside, causing patrons to jump up with surprise at the occasional explosions.

Jonas tried to ignore the distractions and focus on the task at hand as he waited for the Auranian rebels to show.

“How long are we going to wait?” Felix asked.

“As long as it takes.”

“They’re not coming. This is their answer, Jonas. They’re not going to help.”

“They promised they’d be here.”

“You sent a message requesting them to risk their necks to save a few of your friends—”

“I didn’t put it like that.”

There was strength in numbers, and Jonas knew there were others who shared his goals to end King Gaius’s reign and to help to free the Paelsians that had been enslaved to work on the Blood Road.

Despite his distaste for those who called this kingdom home, these were his allies. Auranians or Paelsians, they were united in their hatred of the king.

“They have their own plans,” Felix said. “They won’t help us with ours.”

Jonas blinked hard, knowing Felix spoke the truth. Nobody was coming. He was a joke—the rebel leader who led his people to their deaths time and again. “Why are you still here if I’m so damn pathetic? Why haven’t you taken off yet? Stick with me and you’ll end up dead.”

“Promises, promises.” Felix regarded him patiently, his arms crossed over his chest. Then he went to the bar, returning quickly to Jonas’s table with two large tankards of dark ale that splashed onto the wooden surface as he set them down.

“Drink up,” Felix said.

Jonas stared at the liquid offering. To their left, a band had started to play a song about the goddess’s beauty. People were singing and stomping their feet on the floor in a drunken dance.

“Ale won’t solve my problems,” Jonas said.

“But I doubt it’ll make them any worse.”