Page 20 of Broken Triad

The rest of the servant women will be safer with Krazak’s triad protecting them.

Me?

I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight, or if I’ll be able to fall asleep, because every moment I’ll be expecting the big, booted feet of Krazak’s triad to march down the hallway and barge into my bedroom.

8

LOLA

Isnuck down into the guards’ dormitory instead of following the other servants down to the quarters. The dank smell of old boots and stale sweat permeates the room, and I sit on the hard mattress, rocking back and forth.

The others may be sleeping, but I can’t.

I’m listening constantly for any sound of the Scorp’s clawed feet scraping down the hallway, or the booted feet of Aurelians marching towards me. Both would try the servants’ quarters first—the triad thinking I would sleep there, and Scorp attracted to life, and I’d hear them and have a chance to escape through the back of the estate. It’s been silent for hours, and I’m exhausted, but I cannot sleep. The sun will have set, and I keep thinking of Rachel, my mind tortured by what she is enduring because of me.

I lay down in the bed, pulling a thin blanket over myself, but my mind races. Before coming down to the guards’ quarters, I visited Brianna’s quarters. The door was splintered from an axe—probably Kat, busting in—and I snuck in, grabbing sweaters, pants, dresses, finely made clothes that reminded me of my childhood.

Back then, my father was a titan to me. He seemed invincible. I was so safe, and now, I wish there was something to give me certainty. I pray he’s still alive. I have to believe he is, hiding in the deepest cave of the mines. When I was in the garden watching the Scorp invasion, I saw Org-Ships were falling like flies in the northern mountains where he worked, and few Reavers have darted out that way. The sparsely populated northern villages weren’t valuable enough for the Royal City to protect, and I doubt they will mean more to the Aurelians.

I lick my lips. Could I somehow convince Krazak and his men to help find my father?

I keep expecting the triad to find me. To be drawn to me, instinctively, and barge through the door to take me. That, combined with the fear of Scorp, means sleep is impossible, as I toss and turn under the thin blanket. I took a cold shower in the guards’ quarters and changed into fresh clothing, a black dress too big for me, and I no longer look like a servant.

I swallow, hard. I’ve got to be brave. This planet is dangerous. We’re close enough to the Aurelian Empire that I knew eventually we would be saved—but I was expecting honorable troops, not Fanatics. If the Aurelian Empire couldn’t allow a planet to be overrun by Scorp a sector over from their territories, then they certainly can’t leave a planet filled with their sworn enemies, the Fanatics, so close to their borders.

War is coming. This planet is going to be a bloodbath. I need to find a way out, for me and my father…

And the only people who own ships now are the Aurelians.

As terrified as I am of them, I need to find a way to get close to them.

I slip out of the guards’ quarters, up the stairs, and into the courtyard. It’s eerily quiet. After the cacophony of anti-air batteries and alarms, now there is nothing but the breeze through the leaves of a maple trees, the smoky air nearly cleared.

I blink in surprise, looking out at the Royal City, where the spires are clearly visible towering over the walls. The highest spire of the castle was hit by something, shattered and barely standing. I didn’t even hear the gunfire from when it was hit—it must have gotten smashed by something during the Scorp invasion.

The moon glows, half full. Paulus’ tower is lit. The Aurelian triad is not sleeping, either, staying up to keep watch.

I sneak into the garden, just as I used to, only now I can walk over the shattered gate instead of climbing. I make myself small and quiet like a cat, casting furtive glances up at Paulus’ tower, waiting for an Aurelian to appear in the window and point at me, yelling for me to get back into the safety of the estate.

Or would they take my sneaking around as an excuse to punish me? Would Krazak growl, his lips curling back, hatred burning in his eyes as he threw me over his lap and brutalized my ass until I sobbed for mercy? A shiver runs up and down my spine, and a tendril of shameful heat twists between my legs. I hate what these three have done to me, the feelings I’m forced to confront.

The light in the tower is strangely reassuring. With Aurelians so close, I breathe easier, knowing they could stop any straggler Scorp who sneak into the walls.

It’s darker than I’m used to in the garden, with clouds and the last of the smoke shrouding the moon, and it takes me a moment to locate the plants I need. Luckily, none of them got trampled by the earlier events.

I try not to remember what happened on the bench, or how Rachel suffered in my place…

Or that what I’m about to do next could make her sacrifice worthless.

I force myself to move. I force myself not to think of what I’m doing, acting instead of paralyzing myself with stress.

I take my pouch, crouching down and gathering planets carefully, not getting the fine black dress dirty. First I use a kitchen cloth to pull petals of the blood-red burn-flower, the herb that stings like hell but kills bacteria and germs in cuts. It’s highly prized in the northern mines, where getting cut by rusty equipment can kill you slow.

The very first night I snuck into the garden, I was drawn to the beautiful blood-red flower and stroked its petals, not knowing what it was, and I had to put a branch between my teeth and clamp down to silence my whimpers of pain from the burning sensation on my hands that could have gotten me discovered by the guards.

I go from plant to plant, getting the right mixture of herbs, just like my mom taught me, and creep back to the kitchen. Once I get into the hallways of the estate, I relax a bit, because Aurelians won’t be able to see or hear me as easily. If they were going to discover me, it would have been when I was sneaking around the gardens—but the three Aurelians are on the lookout for Scorp, not for sneaky little servants.

I grind up different herbs into a paste, holding my breath when it’s time to crush the red flowers. My eyes water, but I’m careful not to touch them, or I’ll blind myself, and I wash my hands carefully, rhythmically, over and over, until I’m not sure if I’m being careful or just delaying the inevitable.

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