Page 143 of When Sisters Collide
Nik’s jaw tightened. “What do you need me to do?”
“The guard with the key to her manacles is patrolling the gardens, on the far side of the orchard.” Alena’s eyes gleamed, sharp and deliberate. “He’s alone.”
Nik narrowed his gaze. “How do you know that?”
“The wolves tracked him,” she replied without missing a beat. “Take his keys, but make sure no one sees you.”
Nik ran his tongue over his teeth, weighing her words, then gave a sharp nod. “All right. What about the two guards posted outside?”
Alena hesitated, and Katell chimed in. “Knock them out on your way back, and we’ll hide them in here. The guard change isn’t until morning—no one will notice.”
He nodded once more and slipped out, leaving the sisters in taut silence.
By now, night had fully settled, shadows stretching long across the walls. The palace’s usual bustle had quieted, broken only by the faint chirping of insects outside, amplifying the tension in the room.
Alena lowered herself onto the stool, and Katell studied her, noting the subtle changes. The last time they’d met at the hillfort, Alena had dressed like a warrior, sword in hand and magic at her command—yet she’d still looked afraid. Now that fragility was gone, replaced by a hardened resolve Katell had never seen before.
Her gaze lingered on the golden Mark glowing faintly on the back of Alena’s left hand, a Koine letter shimmering in the candlelight. Had it been there last summer? She couldn’t remember.
“What’s that?” she asked, unable to keep the curiosity from her voice.
Alena glanced at her hand, then held it out for Katell to see. “The Mark of the Omega.”
“Omega?” Katell echoed. The name meant nothing to her.
“If we had more time, I would explain,” Alena said, a trace of sorrow in her tone. “I would have told you everything.”
Katell frowned, the weight of those words sinking in. She had changed since last summer—hardened by her time with the Sixth—but it was clear Alena had undergone her owntransformation. The sister she had once protected wasn’t the same anymore. The realisation left a hollow ache in its wake.
“Why are you doing this?” Katell asked at last, cutting through the heavy silence. “You’re letting me go, knowing I could run straight back to the legions and report what I’ve seen. I could help the Rasennans infiltrate the city?—”
Alena stepped forward, her boots scuffing the worn floor. “No, you won’t,” she said flatly. “You’re going to Dodona to save our people. You’re their only hope.” Her hands curled into fists. “Once the queen discovers I helped you escape, she won’t hear my petition. So I’ll stay here and protect the villages from the Twelfth.”
Katell’s heart clenched as she wrestled with her emotions. “If what you say is true, then I’ll go. For Leywani.” She drew a shallow breath, her attention shifting to the darkening sky. “But the others… they’re not my problem. They exiled us, Alena. You heard Scylas—what he called me?—”
“You put them there!” Alena shot back.
Katell bristled. “That’s still to be verified.” Dorias wouldn’t betray her. He couldn’t. There had to be another explanation—therehadto be.
“Fine,” Alena said coldly. “Then go to Dodona and see for yourself. But if you don’t help them—if you don’t free them from the horrors they’re enduring—then you’re not the sister I thought you were.”
Her words cut deeper than Katell expected. No one in the Sixth had dared speak to her like that in a long time. The defiance in her sister’s voice struck a nerve.
“You’re right,” Katell murmured, her tone dropping to a threat. “We don’t know each other anymore. And you’re being awfully trusting, Alena.” She stepped forward, the chain on her manacles clinking against her wrist. “I could knock you out and leave without your help.”
A sudden gust rushed through the narrow window, scattering dust in the torchlight and whipping at Alena’s cloak.
Alena squared her shoulders. “I’d like to see you try.”
The air thickened with magic, heavy and oppressive like the breathless stillness before a storm. Katell’s muscles tensed, but not from fear. She frowned, trying to understand.
Alena’s Gift was her bond with the wolves—yet now she was wielding wind as well? More than one Gift was rare; only Dorias possessed such power. Her gaze flicked to the Omega symbol on Alena’s hand, and she couldn’t shake the feeling it was the source.
Unease pressed against her ribs, mingling with an unexpected swell of pride. “Fine, that’s enough,” she muttered, the fight draining from her. “Help me with my armour.”
For a beat, neither sister moved, the tension lingering. Then Katell grabbed the black leather cuirass, and Alena stepped forward, the winds calming as she did.
Once the shoulder straps were secured, Alena’s fingers lingered on the worn leather. “Do you realise your armour is laced with heavy magic?” she said quietly. “I can feel it just standing near it.”
