Page 130 of Andreas

The walls shook beneath her palms, sending vibrations up her forearms and rattling in her mind. What was happening up there? Verdugo’s goons had raced into the basement just before she could leave, frantic and panicked. Areanel had not waited; she had bolted from the room the minute she had heard one of them utter the word “rebels.”

They were here, in the city—and her envoys had split up.

Where was Rymedur? Was he up there waiting for her, or had the rebels gotten to him, too?

Areanel pushed her legs faster, sprinting up the rickety staircase.

Just as she reached the last few unsteady steps, the stairwell shook. Dust scattered, falling from the earthen walls leading up from the basement of The Zenith. Peering over her shoulder, she found no one following her—Verdugo and his minions must have already left. She could have remained ignorant, but Areanel had chosen to make a deal with Verdugo.

Now she knew—there was no going back. She’d made a deal with a demon, and now she must pay the price.

Could she trust Verdugo? What would he have to gain from lying?

Her thoughts tripped over one another. She knew she shouldn’t believe a word that came from that serpent’s forked tongue. But there had been clues—evidence—things she had seen. The whispered words, the piling secrets. Once she had pieced it all together, she couldn’t forget it.

Stumbling on the stairs, Areanel reached out to steady herself, her hands scraping the damp, dirty walls of the tunnel. Areanel thanked the gods that Ryyen had mapped out every entrance and exit before they continued with her plan.

Still, the betrayal had her legs shaking. The signs had all been there. She just hadn’t wanted to believe it. Verdugo’s final words—an olive branch between them—ate at her like maggots on a dead corpse. It forced her to push her limbs faster. If the rebels were here, the traitor would use this as a distraction to reach them. Andrean forces would keep her brothers, Elmrynn and Nymlaris, safe—but what about the others?

Grunting, Areanel did not allow her thought to finish as she dug her fingernails into the earthen walls at her side, using them to propel her up until she reached the final step. She needed to reach him before it was too late. She had to stop this! Pain bloomed in her shoulder as it made contact with the wood.

‘Rymedur!’ The yell was out of her mouth before the door had fully opened.

Crash!

The door slammed into brick, splintering the wood. Hair whipped into her face as the wind howled, and she swivelled, turning in place. Looking from one side to the other, she scanned the alley, searching for any sign of her companions—but no one was there.

‘Rea!’ A gasped, gruff voice called from within the darkness cloaking the alley. Was that Rymedur? Areanel took a single step forward before she saw a large silhouette stumble towards her on the dirt path.

Even though her muscles strained, Areanel raced forward the second the light illuminated his bloodied face.

‘Brutus!’ Relief, then worry, hit her at once. ‘What happened? Where are the others?’ Her voice became a panicked mess. ‘Where’s my husband, Brutus? Where were you?’

‘I don’t know.’ Brutus shook his head, eyes glassy and glazed over. ‘I was watching from my position on the rooftops.’ He pointed a hand over his shoulder to the adjacent roof. ‘I saw Caius and Rymedur leaving the building, following a larger male, but the next thing I knew, something bashed into my skull, and I was blacking out. By the time I came around, all three were gone.’

Areanel’s gaze narrowed. Where could they have gone? Nothing was making sense. Too much had happened at once, and Areanel was at her wits’ end trying to figure out how they had gotten into this situation.

Turning her head, she looked around the alley and saw it: something glinted in the light, peeking out from behind a crate of miscellaneous rubbish. Areanel’s heart stopped beating, and her legs moved on instinct. Suddenly, she was rushing forward.

Crouching, Areanel gingerly stretched out a hand, pulling the object free from the crate.

Everything halted. Time, Brutus—her own damned breath.

Areanel felt the pulse of familiarity as she stared at the delicate yet deadly curve of the weapon. One she knew better than her own.

Rymedur’s scythe lay discarded, blood dripping from the handle and onto the ground, staining the once-pristine snow.

Panic surged through her like a tidal wave.

Gaze flicking around the tight space, she heard Brutus shuffle closer, leaning a hand on the wall for support as he blinked slowly and sluggishly, scanning the area. Areanel looked for anything that could tell her what had happened here, and after a few moments of searching, she noticed footprints—two, to be exact. One set was smaller, but the other was definitely wearing boots. Based on the deep indentations, they were a heavyset individual—but that wasn’t what had Areanel’s blood freezing in her veins. No, it was the piece of red fabric, torn and frayed at the edges, but remarkably similar to the others.

Lifting the fabric from the ground, rolling the coarse material between her forefinger and thumb, her heart sank deep into her stomach like a boulder crashing into a still lake.

No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening! Where was he?

She had been so careful. Everything had been planned to perfection. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Areanel had thought she could pull this off. Deception had always been her strength. So, where had it gone wrong? Making a deal with Verdugo? Trusting the wrong person? Or when she had disobeyed her father’s direct order to prioritise the treaty negotiations?