Page 66 of A Thief to Die For

‘Stop!’ I yell. My hand goes for my sword, except it isn’t there. For once, my weapons are missing; I forgot them in my room. The remaining torture tools on the wall – an axe, a shovel, a few chipped blades and a pair of rusty shears – are my only options. But to get to them, I’d have to get through Soren first. ‘Listen to me, okay? Let’s talk this through.’

‘No, you listen to me. You humiliated me last night with the Dresden, then tried to do it again in front of the Commander. But thanks to your father, I know that nothing hurts you more than people’s suffering. So I’m going to take another page from his playbook. You’re going to watch them get whipped, knowing it’s your fault.’

Lucky squirms, fighting against the rope.

‘And then,’ Soren continues, ‘you’re going to undo all the damage you’ve done. You’ll talk me up to the Commander. Get me a promotion. And if that happens in a timely fashion, I’ll keep your secret to myself, and they won’t be exiled.’

My chest heaves with panic. No matter how I play this – fight Soren or run for help – the result is the same. Soren goes to Atlas and blows everything apart.

‘How do I know you’ll keep your word? We’ve been here before, remember? You turned in Agatha and Felix.’

‘I didn’t turn them in,’ he snaps. ‘I was questioned, and I told the truth.’

‘Right. And the promotion was just a coincidence.’

He sneers. ‘You know it didn’t have to be this way – you hating me. Well, I can hate you too.’ He raises his whip.

‘Stop!’ I shout again.

I can’t watch this. A restless fury bubbles up in my throat at the thought, and it’s suddenly so much harder to breathe.

This is why I raid alone.

‘All right!’ I bite my lip hard. ‘You want to be first lieutenant. Fine. I’ll make that happen.’ It shouldn’t be too hard. Atlas was already willing to listen to Soren over me.

‘Good,’ he says, then raises the whip again to strike.

‘What are you doing?’ I shout.

He pauses. ‘Like I said, you humiliated me. A lesson needs to be taught.’

I glance at the two men, my friends. ‘They’re innocent. I worked alone.’ My eyes squeeze shut. God’s breath, I wish all of this were already over.

There’s only one way to make that happen.

I need to play by his rules.

‘Don’t whip them. Whip me. I’ll take their place.’

Igroan into the straw mattress of Brother Thomas’s bed, then try to heave myself up into a sitting position and somewhat succeed. My boots skim the grass floor mat.

‘Lie back down. You’re bleeding through your shirt.’ Clara dabs a cold cloth to my back. ‘You might need stitches.’

Uneasiness settles over me that Brother Thomas called her here. Clara’s exactly everything I thought she would be – lovely and kind. Nurturing. But she can’t be dragged into this. Nobody else can get hurt.

‘I’ll be fine,’ I whisper. It’s probably true. Dezzy will fix me up. I consider standing, but a throbbing pain scrapes down my vertebrae. It comes with the dizzying urge to vomit. ‘I just need another minute, and then I’ll leave.’

‘No, you will not,’ Clara says, grabbing my wrist like I might actually run. ‘Just rest.’

I breathe in, trying to do that, and my mind returns to the jail. To Brother Thomas and Lucky calling for help. To the sound of Soren breathless as he took out his rage, before stopping, face filled with something that looked like regret.

I’m the biggest fool alive.

Because I didn’t just let him hurt me.

I asked for it.

I clench my eyes shut. I should have fought Soren with my bare hands. Fought to whatever end. All I did was delay the inevitable. He’s now in control, and eventually, when I’ve stopped being useful to him, he’s going to turn us all i–