The Deceiver's Heart (The Traitor's Game 2)
I stared at her a moment, taken aback by her candor. But when she opened her mouth to speak again, I quickly said, “Agreed, except Basil and I are switching positions,” and felt surprised that Basil didn’t object.
Instead, he asked, “How do we know we can trust you?”
“Well, you don’t, obviously.” Harlyn sighed, withdrew her sword and handed it over to him, then turned to me with an oddly timed smile. “Games of suspicion are tiresome. Don’t you agree?”
While Basil waited with Harlyn, I descended back into the tunnels. My first stop was in Tenger’s office, where I retrieved my sword. From there, I went to the room where Trina was supposed to be guarding Kestra.
I opened the door. “Kes—”
But neither she nor Trina was there. Back in the corridor, I grabbed Gabe’s arm as he rushed past me. “Where’s Kestra?”
Gabe pointed to the right. “Trina was taking her to the launch room.”
The launch room was adjacent to our underground stables and was the place from which we rode to the surface. Trina had no reason to be there with Kestra. Then realization crashed into me. How stupid I’d been!
“Trina wants to be the Infidante,” I told Gabe, though it was more than that. Trina believed she deserved to be the Infidante and that Kestra had stolen her place. Maybe Trina thought she still could fill that role if there was no more Kestra. And if that was true, then Trina could be the reason the Halderians knew to come here. And now she would deliver Kestra to them. What if this had been her plan all along?
“I’ll find Kestra,” I said, already hurrying toward the launch room, “but you must make sure the Halderians are stopped here!”
My conversation with Basil hadn’t gone as well as I’d hoped, and the deflated expression on his face was punctuated by the sudden explosion above ground. Someone out in the corridors shouted that it was the Halderians. My heart began to race with a fear I’d never known before. Nothing in my past could prepare me for something like this.
Nothing in the past I remembered. Their physician, Loelle, seemed to think something was wrong with my memories. Yes, perhaps I was missing a few moments here and there, but surely nothing that would tell me what to do now.
Basil wiped at his eyes, the last time he would likely think about me. “The Halderians are supposed to be allies with the Coracks. Why would they attack?”
“It’s me.” My jaw clenched. “It’s because I’m a Dallisor.”
Basil’s shoulders fell. “No, Kestra, you’re—”
The door burst open and Trina rushed through it. “Basil, you’re wanted at the surface. Tenger needs your help now.”
Basil nodded, reached for my hand, and gave it a kiss, saying, “I’ll make things right between us, I promise.” Then he hurried from the room without another word.
Trina’s eyes were wide with alarm. “They’re here for you.”
Again. They were here for me again. As soon as Trina spoke, that was the word that had followed in my mind. I couldn’t explain why.
Trina tilted her head. “Do you remember it, Kestra?”
I drew back, realizing I’d covered my mouth with my hand. “Remember what?”
Now she simply pointed to a satchel hanging from a hook embedded in the cave wall. “Pack a bag. It’s going to be a cold day.”
“What should I take?”
“I already packed most of what we’ll need, but take this.” Trina tossed me a winter cloak that I quickly buttoned around my neck, then grabbed a blanket off a nearby bunk, a fire starter, and a cup, which she tossed to me to fill the satchel. She looked around the room but there wasn’t much else here. “This will have to do. Let’s go.”
I followed her out of the room and was half-trampled by Corack fighters who were scrambling in every direction while Trina merely breezed around them. “How do you do it?” I asked. “I can’t imagine being someone who’s always thinking of fighting.”
“Can’t you?” She smiled back at me as if we were sharing a joke. I only frowned in response. I’d meant what I’d said.
By then, we’d reached the underground stables, where a horse was already laden with riding bags. She dumped the items she had collected into one bag, then attached my rolled blanket to the saddle.
On the outside of one saddlebag was a binding cord, an invention of Lord Endrick’s. One end of the cord could be snapped onto the wrist of a prisoner and would not release without its master’s order. I didn’t know why she had one and didn’t like that she was bringing it along.
“I’ll wait here.” I stepped back, overwhelmed with alarm. “Tenger wanted me to stay in camp.”
“Stay in camp and the Halderians will find you. Can you get into a saddle on your own?”