Page 108 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

“If it were all of us, we might not need to run,” Brishon answered.

No, if we had all the captains on our side, we wouldn’t even need the rebels.

Brishon looked toward the door we’d entered through. “Speaking of…Orson?”

“Out of commission.” Perhaps I should have killed him, saved him from suffering instead of letting him die the slow death he deserved.

Brishon paused before finally responding, “Nasty business, but it had to be done.”

He turned without another word and headed toward the back exit. They’d been close friends once. We all had.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Ilya insisted.

I settled her on a bale of hay. “No patience at all?” I teased.

She frowned.

“I wish I knew what you planned in that head of yours, but if you were hoping to aid the rebels, you’ve won.”

Her eyes widened. I’d hit the truth, or at least, close to it.

“Though this could have gone a lot smoother if you’d given me time,” I confided. “When the emperor handed me that letter you’d stolen—” Gods, it nearly ripped me apart. The sting of her betrayal was worse than the pain of Brishon’s poisoned touch.

She opened her mouth, but I halted her words with a finger to her lips.

“It gutted me, Ilya. Not only that I’d lost you, and I thought we’d lost our chance, but for a time I believed I never had you at all.” Believing that her passion had been an act was many times worse than her theft. “That is, until the arena.”

The tears streaking down her face almost choked me. Everything I’d planned to say vanished.

“I should have told you the truth. I tried to that last night, but if I’d gambled wrong…”

“I know.” I crouched in front of her, drawing close. “Or I’m starting to.”

Soon. Soon I could get the last of her truth, and clarity on the pieces I assumed but could not fully resolve.

Ajax coughed, drawing my attention as he held out a stoppered stone vial. I took it with thanks.

“You’ll need to drink this.” I passed it to Ilya. “Two swallows at least, or you won’t be fit to ride.” With any luck, the tonic would knock her out completely. Grime and dried mud covered her clothes and matted her hair. Bruises bloomed on her skin, and undoubtedly there were numerous wounds I couldn’t see. She’d been brave, holding in her pain as we slowly traversed the halls. Even now, she didn’t seem to spare a care for her own well-being.

She frowned at the concoction but did not object. “Why flee? Why not just kill him in his sleep? End this?”

He’d raised us, trained us, given us a home—perhaps after taking our first one away. Yet we’d still discussed that. “The emperor has his own means of magical protection. Blindly attempting to break into his quarters wouldn’t go over well,” I said. “Still, we…when I heard about what Orson planned to do to you…” I shook my head.

“I messed things up again.” She looked away.

I took her delicate face in my hands until she finally looked at me. Even with all she’d been through, her beauty shone through. Not outer beauty, but that inner strength that drew me in long before I realized it. “We’ll find a way. Join with the—”

The doors flew open again. Noise and commotion rose as bodies filed into the stables, agitating the horses.

Zurina stalked across the enclosed space, nearly tripping over a guard who bolted out of her way. “We need to move.”

Her clipped words drew my attention. I skimmed the assembled, looking for signs of trouble and counting the faces present. Warren. The hostages. Guards we trusted. “What’s happened?”

She fisted her hand on her hip. “One of ourhonored guests, Lord Derrin, asked too many questions. I couldn’t trust him, so I knocked him out and left him. Plus, we had to tell too many lies to get here. It’s only a matter of time before someone reports to one of the other captains, or worse, the emperor himself. If that happens before we get out, we’re done for.” She shook her head.

Fuck. No need to explain to the threats I knew all too well. Derrin wasn’t a loss. He liked living in Zhine from what I’d seen. The emperor would likely spare him.

Elin crouched near Ilya. She checked over her wounds, making exclamations of concern.

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