Unveiled (Fireblood 2)

“Fallon,” she says my name like she always does, like she’s my parent. It makes me cringe. “He’s King Hart’s first son.”

The air leaves the room, and I gasp, trying to catch my breath. “No.” I shake my head. “You’re mistaken. Karm would be in an uproar if it were true.”

“It would,” she says. “If they knew.” She pushes off the post, taking a step toward her desk. “And no one will.” She pulls out a document from her desk drawer. “Before the virus took Xander’s mother a couple days ago, she left a confessional for her priest—one of my spies.” She hands the letter to me. I stare down at the shaking letters on the page as my hand trembles. Xander just lost his mother. It explains so much of his strangeness tonight.

As I study the page, I realize how big Micha’s web of secrets and agents has become. She has her hands in every facet of the kingdom.

The letter is addressed to Xander, and it explains how his mother didn’t want him to become a part of Hart’s vileness. It talks about a time when Hart had a vision to create a world safe from Outside, but how it turned into madness. How, after she became pregnant, she fled, hiding herself and Xander—Hart unaware of his existence. And of Hart marrying another to bear an heir to the throne. The words merge into blobs of ink on the paper before me.

“But,” I say, trying to gather my thoughts. “This could change everything. Xander could take over ruling the kingdom and change things from the inside. He could even take down the barrier—there’s so many . . .” I let my words hang, realizing the truth. “You don’t want change.”

“No. Our goal is to tear down Karm, destroy the dictatorship. Not simply change the order . . . or the ruler.” She picks up her dagger, twirling the hilt and digging the point into the desk. “And that plan is already in motion.”

I release the letter and it floats to the ground. “I understand. You want control.” My hands ball at my sides, gripping my once beautiful gown, now dirty and torn. “And once I killed for you, I’d have committed myself to the Rebels. To you.” I shake my head. “You’re just as evil as King Hart himself.”

“Fallon, it’s not easy to make these decisions.” She twirls her knife faster. “There are casualties in every war. We have to be willing to do what it takes.”

“No.” I take a determined step toward her. “We have to be willing to be above our enemies. We’ll never win this if we sink to their level, playing by their rules.” I get right up in her face. “In the end, we’ll be no different than them. And that’s not something to construct a new civilization after.”

Her eyes flick over my features. “I’m sorry to hear that. You were my favorite,” she says, then backhands me across my face.

I flop to the side, gripping my thigh for support. She grabs my hair, attempting to force me straight, her dagger raised, but I drop to the floor and I roll, losing a handful of hair. I kick her legs out from underneath her and she hits the ground on her back. I roll farther away as she grunts, getting to her feet at the same time I do.

I draw my dagger, and we circle each other. I hear the flaps rustle behind me, but I don’t take my eyes off her. Damn. I forgot about her guards.

“No,” she says to them. “I’ll handle her.” Then she lunges for me.

I block her blade with mine, and my arm strains as I force her dagger above her head. Then I spin and kick her in the stomach. She stumbles back, but then comes at me again. I duck as she swipes her dagger through the air. I bound up as she slashes again, her blade carving a deep gash across my chest.

A scream rips from my throat, and for a moment I don’t feel the wound, then it hits me like fire, searing. I fumble backward as she continues to attack, her dagger just grazing my stomach.

I back into the corner of the tent, my weapon held out in front of me, shaking. She trained me and knows all my moves. I know hers, as well, but she has years on me. And above everything, she’s like a parent to me. Even if I could best her, I don’t know if I could kill her.

“Did you ever love me?” I ask, hoping there’s another way to settle this.

She laughs. “There’s no room for love in this war, Fallon.” She slowly walks toward me, backing me father into the corner. “I thought you’d soon take my place. I raised you hard so you could lead after the virus finishes me.”

I squint. “You’re sick?”

She nods. “And I only have a few weeks left. I can’t believe I’ve invested all these years in you.” She spits. “I should have sent you on a mission years ago. If I’d known you’d turn into the sniveling child I see before me now, I’d have left you to wither in that damned farmhouse.”

The fire burning my skin sinks deeper, scorching my soul. Anger wells inside my chest, pumping adrenalin through my veins like blistering lava. “Don’t worry, Micha,” I say, the words like acid on my tongue. “You don’t have weeks. This ends now.”

I point my dagger out and wail, running toward her.

Our blades meet, and something takes over. I don’t feel the blows from our daggers, or the punches she throws. My body’s numb. My brain’s numb. I feel betrayed, abandoned. She tried to turn me into me into something evil, and all I can think is giving her what she wanted. A killer.

As I brace my blade against hers and we tangle our arms around one another, we stumble, each straining to get the upper hand. My arm gives, and I fall backward—her on top of me—through the tent flaps.

The cold dirt kicks up around us as we roll. I see the guards chasing after us, and I hear shouts of confusion as people rush from their tents and surround us. Finally, as Micha lifts to take a swing, I get leverage and bring my leg up, kicking her in the chest. She’s tossed back, and I get to my feet.

Taking a quick look around at the Rebels I grew up with, people I thought of as family, I see it in their eyes. No one comes to break up the fight. They know what I’m only just figuring out. Micha’s leadership is over. And they’re counting on the fearless girl, the one who hunts alone, to end it. But I don’t want her blood on my hands.

Then I see Xander at the edge of the forest. He’s making his way toward me, but I give my head a slight shake. If I fail, he’s in danger. His eyes meet mine. The deep, haunting eyes of a prince. And in this moment, I know I can’t allow Micha to continue her twisted plan.

She slowly picks herself off the ground, and I can tell she’s weaker. The virus is slowing her down, but she’s still a ruthless opponent.

She nods over to me. “Everyone knows the rules,” she says to the crowd. “You don’t finish your mission, you’re out.” She takes a step toward me. “Fallon has disobeyed direct orders. Take her to the holding tent. We’ll take care of it there.”