The Warrior's Curse (The Traitor's Game 3)

After escaping the Corack ambush, Joth and I found shelter in the upper room of an abandoned building in Highwyn. Based on its appearance, no one had entered this place since before the war, and for good reason. The wood beams that still held the structure together were half-rotted, the plaster had fallen off the walls and ceiling in large chunks, with many more threatening to crumble upon us as we slept, and some areas of the floor had already begun to collapse, making every step we took a risk.

Yet this was still better than spending another minute with the Coracks.

In the daytime, our little room loomed over one of the busiest roads in Highwyn, including a shop where Joth had somehow managed to get me a clean dress and a garter to hold the Olden Blade against my thigh, when necessary. Now that evening had fallen, the road was quiet, and from a small window in the corner, we could see Endrick’s palace. At another angle, I saw smoke rising from the grand chimney of Woodcourt and suddenly missed the evenings I had spent as a child curled up in front of the fireplace with a book from Sir Henry’s library.

All those years ago, Simon had tended to those fires. Sometimes, if no one else was around, I would read aloud from the book while he worked, so that he could listen.

The memory was softening me, I realized, and I shook it off. I would not be able to return to Woodcourt until this was over. And not only after Endrick was dead, but after the Coracks and every other threat to me had been removed.

Simon.

What was I supposed to do about Simon?

I shouldn’t have been thinking about him, remembering.

Joth had prepared us a small meal from food he had obtained at Woodcourt while I was busy with Basil. He carried a plate over now, and while it smelled delicious, I only set it aside.

He handed it to me again. “Food was surprisingly difficult to come by in All Spirits Forest. Of course, given that it was a dead forest, maybe it is not such a surprise. I learned to make the best of what I got.”

“You were never trapped there,” I said. “Loelle left.”

“I could not abandon my half-lives.” He smiled. “I stayed strong for them, as you must stay strong too. Please eat.”

“Strength is not my problem,” I said, taking my first bites. “What I need is access to Endrick. I fear he’s left the palace. We’ve seen no sign of him.”

“He’s in there,” Joth assured me. “He’s recalled his armies away from All Spirits Forest. They’re coming to Highwyn, which can only be for one purpose.”

I had suspected that would be Endrick’s next move. Once Basil had been freed from captivity, Endrick would know it was only a matter of time before I discovered the location of the Olden Blade. He would guess that I had it by now, and I did.

Since recovering the blade, I had worn it or held it in my hands, and it felt like the return of an old friend. Today I had been polishing it for so long that I could see myself in the reflection of the metal. I wanted the blade to catch the light just before I stabbed Endrick, giving him a final flash of knowing that he had lost the throne to me.

“After Endrick is dead,” I said, “I want the Scarlet Throne moved to Woodcourt, and Endrick’s palace burned. There should be nothing of him left in all of Antora.”

“You intend to rule in his place?” Joth asked.

“Of course. That throne is mine by inheritance, and if I am the one to kill Endrick, then I have earned my place on that throne more than anyone.” I turned to him. “I will heal your people, Joth. Restore life to all of them.”

“We will restore them, when the time is right,” Joth said. “I share in your powers now.”

“And I in yours.” Looking around me, I said, “I can feel the presence of your people, like never before.”

“They will listen to your commands, as they would mine.” Joth stood and found a gap in our walls with an easy view of the street. “But for now, they have orders to guard us, and to circulate throughout the city to find out what information they can. When we get word that the time is right, we will attack.”

“How long, do you think?”

“Perhaps as soon as tonight. If you’ve eaten enough, then you ought to get some sleep.”

Joth had prepared a bed for me against one wall while he would sleep nearer the broken window. I was immune to the cold, but he had begun complaining of the heat in this room, and he wanted all the winter air he could get.

I lay down and closed my eyes but could not sleep. My shoulder ached, despite having been healed. My heart felt worse, the wound widening with every thought of my last fight with Simon. I had come to him in hopes of repairing our friendship. He had come to lure me into a trap.

As I finally began to close my eyes, I heard marching sounds outside. I looked over at Joth, who was already sitting up and peeking out from the gap in the wooden walls.

“Ironhearts?” I asked, though I didn’t need his nod to confirm it. The soldiers were making no effort to hide their presence, so they must have wanted the people to know they had returned. Maybe they wanted me to know it too. If so, they would regret it.

I leapt to my feet, the room around me thick with half-lives eager for their first real battle. I had not yet issued any orders to them, but this was my chance. “Block them from behind,” I said. “This will begin here, and end here.”

I glanced over at Joth, whose breaths were more shallow than usual. He was nervous, and understandably so. He’d spent nearly his entire life in All Spirits Forest and never tested himself as a warrior. Everything he knew about the coming battle was pure theory.