The Rebel (3 page)

When she finally emerged, groggy and hungry, she had barely turned a corner before she ran into Paulin. She started to back up, registering the fury in his eyes and judging it best to get out of his way, but she hadn't gone two steps before he hit her hard enough to send her flying.

She struck the stone wall with her shoulder, but it was her jaw that screamed in protest from the force of his blow. She ducked his second attempt to strike her, only to have him kick her shoulder. So she sprawled backward on the ground, lifting her hands helplessly to protect her face.

“Do you know what I have spent the last
six hours
doing?” he snarled.

Looking for me, I suspect,
she thought, but had the sense not to say.
I'm so glad you're here to keep me safe!

“I'm sorry,” she said.

He had always been surly, and her idle, snippy comments had occasionally elicited a shove, but this was extreme. Every instinct said to run, but she was worried if she tried to stand he would push her back down. Instead, she tried to crab-crawl backward, making herself small.

“We had a criminal sneak into the palace,” he informed her. “A potential assassin, judging by his known associations. And do you know what we needed to do? We needed to send guards looking for
you,
to make sure
you
were safe.”

She said nothing. He was pacing above her, ranting, but at least not kicking her. Maybe, once he had finished shouting, he would calm down enough to realize he looked stupid abusing a twelve-year-old.

“I don't know why Julian tolerates you here,” he snarled. “It's obvious that you think you're better than us. You practically spit on everything the royal family gives you. And I swear to Fate and all my gods, if Hara gets hurt one day when I'm wasting my time with you, I will personally execute you as a traitor; I don't care what the king says. Do you hear me?”

Kadee gave a slight nod, because he was looking at her now, and she was worried he would hit her again if she didn't answer.

He stared at her a minute longer, as if deciding whether or not his wrath had been spent, but then he grumbled, “You missed dinner, but there should be food left in the kitchen. Get out of my sight.”

She obeyed the order gratefully, flying to her feet and stumbling toward the kitchen. She wasn't sure she would be able to eat, no matter how hungry she had been a few minutes earlier, but it was the first place she could think to go.

In the kitchen, she found Hara next to the hearth, chatting with the cook's assistant, who was about her age and seemed to be glowing from the princess's attention. Kadee was about to disappear again when Hara looked up and drew her brows together in a concerned frown.

“Are you all right?” she asked, standing and abandoning her friend.

“F-fine,” Kadee stammered out.

“Who did this?” Hara reached out to touch her cheek. Was it already bruising?

Kadee had never been good at lying, so she had to swallow hard before she answered. If she told Hara the truth, the serpiente princess would react one of two ways: she would brush off the incident as a product of the heat and serpiente tempers, or even worse, she would confront Paulin about it. Kadee could only imagine the guard's reaction if she got him in trouble with his princess.

“No one,” she said eventually. “I wasn't looking where I was going. I fell.”

Hara didn't look convinced, but now she looked more amused than worried. She obviously assumed Kadee had done something stupid—pro
bably either picked a fight with someone she shouldn't have or lost a fight to someone embarrassing.

“Well…watch out for yourself better in the future,” Hara said. She gave a shrug and a conspiratorial smile that, though it was probably meant to be kind and understanding, mostly came across as mocking.

“I'm just going to get something to eat in my room,” Kadee mumbled.

Hara nodded, then returned to her friend without another glance in Kadee's direction.

Kadee gathered a package of meat pies and bread and a jug of mint tea. It was more than she needed, but that meant she wouldn't have to leave her room again for a while.

She was nearly there when a boy came flying around the corner. He was looking over his shoulder, and she had just enough time to brace herself as he ran full speed into her.

His eyes, which were the pale green of spring mist, widened as he dodged back. His lip curled under, and he caught it between his teeth as he anxiously looked up and down the hall, as if debating what threat Kadee posed.

From where the boy had come, Kadee heard Paulin shouting to someone—pr
obably another guard. She heard Hara's low, throaty laugh from the kitchen as she and her friend started coming in their direction.

“This way,” Kadee whispered to the boy, grabbing his arm and leading him down one of the side passages. He resisted for a moment, but then Paulin shouted again and the boy moved, swift on his feet.

He didn't pause. Didn't ask questions. And Kadee didn't stop to wonder who he was or why he was running. When she showed him the narrow gap between the wall paneling and the stone and changed into her serpent form in order to fit through, he followed obligingly.

As a serpent, he was white as snow, with a glistening pale gold pattern that emphasized the triangle head that Kadee associated with poisonous snakes. She had lived among the serpiente for four years, but she had never seen a white viper before.

He changed back to his human form when she did, though he did it more gracefully. Between the heat and her pounding heart, Kadee's shift back was rough; the room spun as her feet formed on the floor, and she would have fallen if the white-haired boy hadn't caught her arm to steady her.

She expected him to ask a question, but he didn't. He just waited for her to recover, then followed her as she led them soundlessly to one of her secret hideaways. The side of Kadee's face was still throbbing from Paulin's blow, and her muscles tingled with the pins-and-needles feeling that inevitably accompanied a return to human form. As they reached the blanketed nest, Kadee finally had the sense to think,
What on God's green earth am I doing?

With trembling hands, she found her flint and cache of tinder and lit a candle.

“We're safe here,” she said to the boy, around gasping breaths. “Guards don't know this exists.”

In the flickering candle flame, she could see that his hair was as pale as his serpent form, and long. It had been braided but still hung halfway down his back. His clothes were similar to the guards'—tr
ousers, shirt, leather vest, bracers, boots—but had a soft, homemade look to them. The leather was brown, tanned unevenly, so there were lighter and darker splotches.

“Are you helping me?” he asked.

“Apparently,” she answered. “No one will find us here. We can leave once they stop looking.” Realizing that she was still clutching the package of food from the kitchen, she set it between them and asked, “Are you hungry?”

His eyes locked on the food as it was revealed, and he nodded. The look on his face was overwhelmingly grateful.

“My name is Shkei,” he said as he reached for one of the pies.

“I'm Kadee.” Before she took her first bite, she asked, “Are you an assassin?”

“No!” He shook his head, making his white braid bounce. “I've never hurt anyone.” He bit his lip again, then said, “I am a thief, and technically, I'm guilty of treason.” He looked at the small meat pie in his hand, and asked, absurdly, “Are you still willing to share your food?”

She thought it over, knowing what Paulin would say if he knew what she had done. “I guess I'm technically guilty of treason now, too.”

Shkei nodded. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Wait—
Kadee.
You're Julian's ward. The part-human one.” Kadee flinched and was about to come up with a sharp retort, when he said, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it. Obviously you're not…like that.”

“Like a human?” she snapped, bristling.

Shkei laughed out loud, before saying, “Like a
royal.
What's a human supposed to be like?”

The open question caught her completely off guard. “What?”

“My parents both died before I was born,” Shkei said. “Did you get to know yours at all?”

“How did your mother die before you were born?” Kadee asked, not sure she wanted to share her story.

“She was a slave,” Shkei answered. “The people of Midnight killed her. She was still alive, physically, until I was about two years old, but they took her soul so she was dead inside.” He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them.

“What about your father?” Kadee asked, horrified. She had heard people talk about Midnight, but had never known anyone who had actually been there.

“I shouldn't ever have been conceived,” Shkei answered. “Farrell says a slave can't say no, which means she can't really say yes either, but he wasn't watching closely enough, and my dad took advantage of my mom and…so I'm here. Were your parents better than that?”

“Yes,” Kadee squeaked out, moved and shocked by the frank description Shkei gave of his own background. “My parents were wonderful.”

In halting phrases, she began to describe everything she could remember of her life with her human parents, gauging Shkei's reaction along the way. The last thing Kadee wanted to do was gloat about her family life when Shkei thought his life was a mistake. But he seemed to love every minute of it. She hadn't ever met the serpent who was supposedly her blood-father; he was gone before she was born, before her mother had met the man Kadee actually called Father. So she talked about everything else, anything that came to mind, and Shkei listened raptly.

Over the next few months, she saw Shkei often. She showed him the places where he could sneak in from the forest, which meant he could get in and out of the market without guards noticing. Perhaps she should have objected to his thievery, but he swiped things like grain, salt, and occasionally a bolt of cheap fabric—nothing a wealthy man would have bothered to sniff at. He explained that his family was considered outlaws, so there was no other way for them to get things they needed.

He told her about the Obsidian guild without hesitation, shame, or any attempt to conceal their hated status among the rest of the serpiente. Kadee had heard the name, usually in the same sentence as curses, from the guards as well as from Julian. Supposedly, the Obsidian guild was one of the reasons she needed a guard in the first place, since she could be captured by the outlaw band and used against the royal house.

The way Shkei described them was completely different.

“Misha dances the most beautiful
intre'marl,
” Shkei said. “She does it with real daggers now. It's incredible.”

“What is it about serpents and
dancing
?” Kadee sighed.

Shkei paused, tilting his head as he considered and staring into her eyes. “We dance because we're alive. Because the fact that we're able to stand, and our bodies are our own, is something to celebrate.” He shrugged. “If you don't want to dance, then don't. No one's forcing you.” He must have seen something in her face, because he added very seriously, “Well, no one
should
force you. What's the point of dancing if you don't love it?”