Defy (12 page)

watch the final fight.

“He said his name was Eljin.”

“Is he a member of another palace guard? Does anyone know

anything about him?”

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Deron gave me a piercing look. “He’s supposedly in the army.

You beat him, so why all the questions?”

I didn’t know if I dared mention my suspicions — that he was

some sort of sorcerer. “I wondered why he wore the mask,” I

finally answered, deciding to keep my thoughts to myself. If I had

somehow imagined it and accused an innocent man of using sor-

cery, it would mean his death. “It was disconcerting and he

wouldn’t answer me.”

I looked over to where the final opponent stood in the ring,

waiting for me. Eljin had disappeared from sight.

“I’m not sure. He didn’t say.”

I shrugged and turned away, just as the clouds burst open

above us. Rain, so warm it felt like sweat, poured down on me,

coating my face, drenching my short hair.

“Alex, are you sure that’s all?” Deron called after me.

I glanced back and nodded, ignoring the obvious worry on

his face.

The last opponent shook my hand when I finally entered the

ring, introduced himself as Mateo before taking a few steps back

and lifting his sword to his face. Polite. He was good, too. Despite

the driving rain and the slippery mud beneath our feet, he was

quick and strong. It took me just under seven minutes to beat him,

by knocking his sword from his hand and leveling mine at his

chest. Instead of looking frustrated or tired, he smiled happily

through the rain pouring off his brown hair, after peering at Rylan

to confirm that he’d lasted the longest.

“It was an honor to fight you for this position. We’ve heard all

about how good you are,” he said as he came forward to shake my

hand again.

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“You’re very good as well. Welcome to the guard, Mateo.” I

shook his hand, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to smile back.

I was still cold from my encounter with Eljin. There were too many

unanswered questions piling up —

secret passageways, cryptic

messages from Tanoori, assassination attempts, the prince himself,

and now Eljin, who I was sure blocked my hit with sorcery. What

had been his goal — why did he even try if he didn’t want to win?

Why reveal his ability when he must know it could mean his death?

I didn’t like unanswered questions.

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 twelve 

T
he rest of the prince’s guard was in a boisterous mood;

those not on duty later were well on their way to getting f lat-

out drunk. Kai had two different women sitting on his lap, one on

each leg. Even Jerrod was smiling as he listened to Asher tell a

story. But I could barely make myself eat. Mateo fit into the guard

well, but his presence served only to remind me that he was here

because Marcel was dead.

And tomorrow, Tanoori would die as well.

It was all too much. My stomach roiled, threatening to heave

up what little I’d managed to choke down.

“Going seven minutes against Alex is pretty impressive.” Jude

pointed at Mateo. “Well, unless you’re my brother. He’s the only

one who can last longer than ten minutes.”

Marcel could, too
, I thought. But I remained silent.

“I’m still trying to learn everyone’s names,” Mateo admitted.

“Which one is your brother again?”

“Rylan, over there next to Alex.” Jude gestured with his fork,

splatting Jerrod with mashed sweet potatoes in the process. “He’s

a master swordsman.”

“Watch where you’re throwing that fork,” Jerrod muttered.

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Suddenly Prince Damian strode in, with Antonio right

behind him.

We all rose to our feet simultaneously. My stomach lurched

into my rib cage as he strode past me without even a glance in my

direction. I hadn’t seen the prince since the night before, and the

memory of everything that had passed between us made my neck

grow hot and my cheeks f lush. Hopefully, anyone who noticed

would blame it on the sweltering night.

“I hear I am to meet the newest member of my guard tonight.”

He circled around the table and took his chair at the head of the

table. Once he was seated, we all sat back down, except for Mateo.

“My prince, it is an honor to join your esteemed guard.”

Mateo bowed his head, his right fist pressed to his left shoulder.

“Yes, yes, you can sit down.” Prince Damian gestured at him

before grabbing a drumstick from the plate in front of him. “What

is your name?”

“Mateo, my liege,” he said as he took his seat once more.

“Well, then, Mateo, welcome. Now let’s enjoy this feast before

it grows any colder.”

And with that, everyone returned to eating. Conversations

rose again, building into a cacophony of noise, hammering through

my brain. My skull ached, the pain growing worse every time I

looked at Prince Damian. He didn’t meet my gaze once. Had he

really treated me any differently last night or had I imagined it? I

forced myself to take a bite of the macaw roasted in mint leaves,

but the freshly f lavored meat was greasy and cold in my mouth. I

could barely swallow it. I longed for the quiet and solitude of my

room — until I remembered I didn’t have my own room anymore.

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I didn’t know how much time passed, only that the pounding

in my head was nearly unbearable, when the prince suddenly

pushed his chair away from the table and stood up. We all jumped

out of our seats as well, standing at attention.

“I have business to attend to, so I must reluctantly leave the

celebration.”

“Ahem.” Nolen cleared his throat from the corner of the

room. He’d been so silent, I’d almost forgotten he was there.

“Don’t forget your father’s, ah, desires.”

Prince Damian’s face darkened, but he nodded curtly. “Of

course not. We wouldn’t wish to anger my father.” He looked

around the table before his gaze landed on me for the first time all

night. “Alex, you will accompany me. The rest of you may enjoy

the remainder of your meal. Welcome once more, Mateo. May you

serve me well.” The prince inclined his head at Mateo, who bowed

in return. Then Damian marched past the length of the table and

swept out of the room. I hurried to follow him, my scabbard hit-

ting my leg with each step as I tried to ignore the way my heart

suddenly began to pound.

He strode down the hallway without looking back, or acknowl-

edging any of the servants or guests he passed. I practically had to

jog to keep up with his longer stride. He walked by the ballroom,

then the stairs to his wing, but kept going without even pausing.

The palace was a massive conglomerate of hundreds of years of

additions, constructed by kings and queens each trying to outdo

the previous monarchs. The newer wings were more open, more

opulent. But for some reason, Prince Damian marched right on

through them all, on and on, twisting and turning through the

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palace until we were in the southwest wing, where the oldest mon-

archs lived long ago. I wasn’t very familiar with this wing. It was

almost always empty, practically abandoned. As we walked through

the much darker hallways, I couldn’t quite suppress a shudder.

He finally stopped before a nondescript door. “Stay here, Alex.

I’ll only be a moment.”

“My lord, not to question you, but the king’s orders were to —”

“Are you working for the king or for me, Alex?” Prince

Damian’s expression was cold, almost frightening in the dimness

of the barren hallway.

“You, my prince, of course.”

“Then stay here.”

He reached out, opened the door, and slipped into the room

before I could make out anything beyond an empty bed.

For once, it wasn’t sweltering in the palace as I stood waiting

for Prince Damian. In fact, a light breeze wafted down the hall-

way, gently lifting the hair on the back of my neck. Despite the

cooler temperature, sweat still beaded on my skin, making my

hands damp. What was he doing in there? If something happened

to him, I would be as good as dead. What was I supposed to say to

King Hector if Prince Damian got himself killed?
He wouldn’t let

me come in the room with him
probably would not be enough to save my skin.

Blasted prince and his blasted secrets. I began to pace, stomp-

ing harder with every turn past the door, which remained firmly

shut. What little light had been shining through the one stained-

glass window in the hallway had long since disappeared, leaving

the wing in almost total darkness.

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I wasn’t fond of the dark. In fact, according to Marcel, it was

my biggest fear. Well, that and snakes. I tried to control my fear,

but as I continued my vigil in front of the door, I suddenly had the

feeling I was being watched. I forced myself to continue walking

back and forth a couple of more times, but I slowed my pace, made

less noise. I glanced left and right, straining against the shadows to try and make out who might be hiding in the gloom. A friend

or foe?

For some reason, I thought back to my fight against Eljin ear-

lier that day. I was suddenly afraid it had been the wrong decision

not to report my suspicions immediately. I let my hand drop down

to rest on the hilt of my sword, making it a casual gesture, even

though my whole body hummed with tension. I needed to rectify

my mistake as soon as possible and let Deron know. Unless Eljin

was the one at the other end of this hallway, preparing to attack. I

could beat anyone — any
natural
man or woman. But I was no match for magic. No one was.

Not even Papa had been, and he was the best fighter I’d ever

seen. Swords were useless against the fire that sorcerers wielded.

My blood pulsed hot through my body, and I tensed, waiting

for the strike that I sensed was coming.

When the door f lung open beside me, I nearly jumped out of

my skin. Prince Damian emerged, holding a lit torch. Light spilled

into the hallway, scattering the shadows nearest us into oblivion. I

spun to face the unknown assailant, my grip tight on the hilt of my

sword, but the hallway was empty.

“Let’s go,” Prince Damian said, brushing past me. The door

to the room was already shut. In my attempt to see if someone had

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really been hiding in the corridor, I’d missed the chance to try to

look into the room he’d been in for so long.

Frustrated and still on edge, I followed him. There was no

sign of anyone else anywhere in the southwest wing. But I trusted

my instincts. We hadn’t been alone.

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 thirteen 

D
espite how exhausted I was, I couldn’t sleep as I lay on

the cot outside Prince Damian’s room. Now that Mateo had

officially joined the guard and taken Marcel’s empty bed, I was

grateful for my assignment guarding Prince Damian’s door. I lay

under the blanket, still wearing the same binding and tunic, hav-

ing only dared do a quick wash with a wet cloth again.

The skylight above me glowed with the white light of the

nearly full moon as I stared up at the ceiling. Though I kept my

body still, my mind spun around and around mercilessly. When

Damian and I returned, it had been so late, Deron was already

in his room for the night. I hadn’t been able to warn him about

Eljin.

What was Eljin’s goal — why was he here? Why had he fought

me and purposely lost? And what was the prince involved in? Why

was he including me now?

I needed Marcel. As he’d said only a couple of nights ago, I

was the better fighter, but he’d been smarter. He would have been

able to tell me what to do. He would have been able to figure out

what was going on. My eyes burned and I shut them, pressing the

heels of my hands against them to push the emotion away. I tried

to force myself not to think about Marcel’s death, not to long for

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him, because there was nothing I could do to change what had

happened. I couldn’t bring him back. Death was final. I knew it all

too well.

And now Tanoori, who had once been a weaver’s innocent

daughter, would die as well.

My stomach twisted and I had to jump out of bed and rush

over to the corner of the room. I barely made it in time to heave

the contents of my stomach into the dark belly of the chamber pot.

Over and over, I wretched, until there was nothing left but bile,

burning as it came up. Finally, tears running down my cheeks and

my stomach aching, I was done. I shakily put the lid on the cham-

ber pot to smother the smell until I could gather enough strength

to do something with it.

I heard the door behind me slip open right before the prince

asked, “Alex? What in the name of Antion are you doing on the

f loor?”

I jumped up, stepping in front of the chamber pot, pressing

my fist to my chest. “My prince, why are you up? Do you need

something?”

We locked gazes across the room, the pale moonlight washing

over him, transforming him into a specter come to haunt me.