History has little good to say about Ser Hobert Hightower, but no man can question the manner of his death. Rather than betray his fellow Caltrops, he let the squire fill his cup, drank deep, and asked for more. Once he saw Hightower drink, Ulf the Sot lived up to his name, putting down three cups before he began to yawn. The poison in the wine was a gentle one. When Lord Ulf went to sleep, never to awaken, Ser Hobert lurched to his feet and tried to make himself retch, but too late.
Pendragons
“And I’m Tarquin,” the guy to my right interjects. He has a long, bony
nose and nostrils that seem to stay flared. “Tarquin Pendragon?”
He looks at me expectantly. He has smooth auburn hair, combed neatly
sideways, and thin lips pressed into a tight smile.
“Very nice to meet you,” I offer.
He clears his throat. “You know of Arthur Pendragon, I presume. King
Arthur of the Round Table?” He points at the towering portraits. “That’s
him and Queen Guinevere. I’m the spit of him, they say. The absolute spit
of him.”
He looks nothing like the chisel-jawed, tan man in the portrait.
Tarquin’s skin is the color of milk. “Quite.”
He grins uncertainly. “Yes. Arthur founded this place and built most of
Camelot. His blood runs in my veins.”
“I see. You’re a descendant of Arthur?” I can see he wants recognition
for this. “Very impressive.”
His grin fades. “Yes. Well, I’m descended from his sister, Morgause.”
His expression brightens. “But some say the Pendragons in those days had
incestuous relationships, so really I could be…” He clears his throat.
“Anyway, since you’re new here, I can show you around. As a Pendragon, I
feel it’s my duty to look after lost young women who are new to our
academy. Of course, I can show you around the rest of Camelot, too.
Outside the Tower. I’ve lived in the city my whole life.”
There’s something false about his smile that sets my teeth on edge, but I
murmur, “Thank you.”
So he’s one of those Pendragons that Viviane referenced, someone who
might cut me down just weeks into training.
But he doesn’t seem to hate me so far.
My stomach rumbles, and I turn to a platter of food. It looks like
something from a fairytale—fresh bread pudding, jams, fruit, cakes
decorated with dandelions, entire baked salmon and potatoes, all resting on
a bed of wildflowers.
Reklam
What just happened
Gasping, I realize not everyone in the crowd is running away. Not all of them are afraid, or even confused by the outburst of violence. They move differently, with purpose, motive, a mission. Black pistols gleam, flashing as they dig into a guard’s back or stomach. Knives glint in the growing dark. The screams of fear become screams of pain. Bodies fall, slumping against the tile of the square.
I remember the riots in Summerton. Reds hunted down and tortured. A mob turning on the weakest among them. It was disorganized, chaotic, without any order. This is the opposite. What looks like wild panic is the careful work of a few dozen assassins in a crowd of hundreds. With a grin, I realize they all have something in common. As the hysteria grows, each one dons a red scarf.
The Scarlet Guard is here.
Cal, Kilorn, Farley, Cameron, Bree, Tramy, the Colonel.
They’re here.
With everything I have, I butt my head back and crack my skull against Clover’s nose. She howls, and silver blood spurts down her face. In an instant her grip on me breaks, leaving only Kitten. I drive an elbow into her gut, hoping to throw her off. She lets go of my shoulder, only to wrap her arm around my neck and squeeze.
I twist, trying to get enough room to bend my neck and bite. No chance. She increases the pressure, threatening to crush my windpipe. My vision spots, and I feel myself being pulled backward. Away from the Treasury, Maven, his Sentinels. Through the lethal crowd. I trip backward as we reach the steps. I kick weakly, trying to catch on to anything. The Security officers dodge my poor efforts. Some drop to their knees, guns raised, covering the retreat. Clover looms over me, the bottom half of her face painted with mirrored blood.
“Double back through Whitefire. We have to keep
Let's go Free them
She’s holding the pistol wrong. Even I know that. It’s too big for her, made of shimmering black metal, with a barrel nearly a foot long. Better suited to a trained soldier rather than a shivering, slight teenage girl. A soldier, I realize with cold clarity. A Silver. It’s the same kind of gun a Sentinel shot me with, so long ago in the cells deep beneath the Hall of the Sun. The bullet felt like a blow from a hammer and went straight through my spine. I would’ve died if not for Julian and a blood healer under his control. In spite of my ability, I raise my hands, palms open in surrender. I’m the lightning girl, but I’m not bulletproof. But she takes this as a threat instead of submission, and tenses, her finger itching too close to the trigger.
“Don’t move,” she hisses, daring to take another step toward me. Her skin, the dark, rich color of blackwood bark, offers her perfect camouflage in the forest. And yet, I see the red bloom beneath, and the tiny scarlet veins webbing the whites of each eye. I gasp to myself. She’s Red. “Don’t bleeding think about it.”
“I won’t,” I tell her, tipping my head. “But I can’t speak for him.”
Her brows furrow in confusion. She doesn’t have time to be afraid. Shade appears behind her, solidifying out of thin air, and wraps her up in an expert military hold. The gun falls from her grasp, and I snatch it before it can hit the rocky ground. She fights, snarling, but with Shade’s arms firmly locked behind her head, she can’t do much more than sink to her knees. He follows, keeping her firmly in hand, his mouth set in a grim line. A scrawny girl is no match for him.
The gun feels foreign in my hand. It’s not my chosen form of weapon—I’ve never even shot one before. I almost laugh at that. To come so far without even firing a gun.
“Get
Sayfa 291
A job to serve the king
When the door bangs open at dawn, I’m not frightened. Security searches are normal, though we usually only get one or two a year. This will be the third.
“C’mon, Gee,” I mutter, helping her out of her cot and down the ladder. She moves precariously, leaning on her good arm, and Mom waits for us on the floor. Her arms close around Gisa, but her eyes are on me. To my surprise, she doesn’t look angry or even disappointed with me. Instead, her gaze is soft.
Two officers wait by the door, their guns hanging by their sides. I recognize them from the village outpost, but there’s another figure, a young woman in red with a triple-colored crown badge over her heart. A royal servant, a Red who serves the king, I realize, and I begin to understand. This is not a usual search.
“We submit to search and seizure,” my father grumbles, speaking the words he must every time this happens. But instead of splitting off to paw through our house, the Security officers stand firm.
The young woman steps forward and, to my horror, addresses me. “Mare Barrow, you have been summoned to Summerton.”
Gisa’s good hand closes around mine, like she can hold me back. “W-What?” I manage to stammer.
“You have been summoned to Summerton,” she repeats, and gestures to the door. “We will escort you. Please proceed.”
A summons. For a Red. Never in my life have I heard of such a thing. So why me? What have I done to deserve this?
On second thought, I’m a criminal and probably considered a terrorist due to my association with Farley. My body prickles with nerves, every muscle taut and ready. I’ll have to run, even though the officers block the door. It’ll be a miracle if I make it to a window.
“Calm down, everything’s settled after yesterday.” She chuckles, mistaking my fear. “The Hall and the market are well
Sayfa 57
The Greatest Weapon
“But you needed Tsolin,” she said.
“This will be significantly harder without Tsolin,” he admitted. “He could
have tipped the balance. It’ll truly be a war now.”
She couldn’t help but ask, “Then are we going to lose?”
Vaisra regarded her in silence for a moment. Then he knelt down in front
of her, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked up at her with an
intensity that made Rin want to squirm.
“No,” he said softly. “We have you.”
“Vaisra—”
“You will be the spear that brings this empire down,” he said sternly.
“You will defeat Daji. You will set in motion this war, and then the southern
Warlords will have no choice.”
The intensity in his eyes made her desperately uncomfortable. “But what
if I can’t?”
“You will.”
“But—”
“You will, because I ordered you to.” His grip tightened on her shoulders.
“You are my greatest weapon. Do not disappoint.”
Reklam
Reklam