Page 44 of The Rebel and the Rose
‘Once we find them, the Daggers will kill them.’ Of this, Sera was unerringly sure.
What did Ransom Hale and his ilk care for saints, when they already enjoyed the protection of the king and the enduring power of Shade?
This prince posed a threat to the Dagger too. If he survived, he might change everything. And who knew what kind of secret power bloomed on the misted Isle of Alisa?
Her heart sank. ‘We might not even get the chance to speak to Andreas before they strike.’
And saints, shewantedto. Desperately. Whatever magic Prince Andreas had gained in that storm seemed to be working just fine for him. He had managed to whip up a fervour never before seen in the capital and amass a band of devoted followers to his cause. The prison break had clearly helped, gifting him an army of disgruntled mercenaries who had their own scores to settle against the King of Valterre.
Yes, Prince Andreas had grabbed onto his new-found power with both hands. And now the King of Valterre was sweating about what he was going to do with those hands. Or indeed who he was going to extend them to.
‘I doubt he’ll go down easy,’ mused Theo, and Sera realized that might be true too. Her hopes brightened. ‘The Daggers are going to try and kill him whether we come along or not. At least this way we’ll have a chance to speak to him. Perhaps even help him.’
Or join him.
Sera’s heart raced at the thought. To work with a traitor to the Crown was tantamount to signing her own death sentence.But it was clear to her now that being a saint already afforded her one. If the king ever found out about her true power, she’d be hanged. Or maybe this time, Ransom really would kill her.
He was different than he was before. Still irritatingly handsome, but sharper somehow. Shade-bitten. Hardened by the last few months, the shadow-marks on him had created a new and devastating tapestry. A reaper made flesh.
In any case, the more salient truth of the matter was this: if they tracked down Prince Andreas, perhapshecould helpher.
She would have to consider her allegiance carefully. After all, Andreas could end up being more powerful than any ruler that had come before him. A revolutionaryanda saint. Maybe even a king one day.
Who was he? What would he do with that kind of power?
Questions swirled inside her head, anxiety and anticipation making her thoughts heavy. Her lids too. Sighing deeply, she laid her forehead against the bars.
They had been fed, at least. A crusted bread roll stuffed with stringy gammon and hard cheese. Nothing like the platter the king had feasted on during their late-night meeting. Still, she had devoured the stale bread in six bites, washing it down with a canteen of cold water.
‘Of course we have to keep Bibi in mind,’ Theo said, quietly.
Sera frowned. It was an impossible dilemma. Whatever their feelings about Prince Andreas and the rogue Alisan, they had no choice but to play along with the king’s plan for now. To defer to Ransom and his Daggers. Until they could figure out a better way forward. A way to save themselves and their friend.
At least Val had got away. Sera was sure if they’d managedto capture her, too, the king would be dangling her fate over them just as keenly as he was dangling Bibi.
A small mercy.
‘Try and sleep,’ said Theo, through a sprawling yawn. ‘Dawn will be here before we know it.’
Sera eyed the narrow bedroll in the corner of her cell. The servants had brought those too. She shuffled over to it now, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie down. She hugged her knees against her chest and sat with her back against the damp wall, willing sleep to come.
Sooner than expected, she nodded off. Her head lolled, jolting her from nightmare to nightmare, where she found herself falling – always falling – down, down, down…
Then choking, the dirt so thick in her mouth, she couldn’t scream.
Get me out! Get me out! Get me out!
She woke at the sound of approaching footsteps.
It was still dark outside, the only light flickering from the oil lamp beyond her cell. She couldn’t tell how long she’d been asleep for, only that she felt groggy and sore.
The footsteps drew closer, and then stopped abruptly. A shadow loomed outside her cell. She stared blearily at it, thinking it was some kind of apparition. A leftover remnant of her nightmares.
‘Seraphine.’ Ransom’s voice trickled through her like warm water. A pair of large shadow-marked hands curled around the bars of her cell. ‘Are you awake?’
She lurched forward without meaning to, leaving her bedroll and crawling towards him like he was a life raft bobbing in aviolent sea. Dimly, she knew she out of her senses. There wasn’t supposed to be anything comforting about seasoned assassin Ransom Hale, Head of the Order of Daggers and sworn enemy of the Order of Flames. Of her.
Except for the way he uttered her name like a prayer in the dark. It stirred something deep inside her, like a coin tossed into the pool of her soul.
