Page 123 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
Kit tossed the keys down the hall, and Father caught them in one hand. He unlocked the cell, threw the door open, and pulled me into a hug. I squeezed him back, clinging onto this moment, knowing it might be the last time.
When I finally let him go, I pulled Dad into a hug next. He laughed happily and ran his hands through my hair, over my shoulders, checking me for injuries. “We’re glad you’re safe,” he whispered.
Kit, not to be outdone, grabbed me next and lifted me off my feet in their enthusiasm. Several vertebrae in my back popped and my arms went numb at my sides. As soon as they set me down, they demanded, “Where’s Delilah?”
“With the others. Or, maybe they split up, I don’t really know.”
“Let’s find her.”
This was probably the last calm moment we’d have together. The best time for me to explain who I was, everything I’d done, all my reasons. “I—”Maybe they’ll never find out. Maybe the others will succeed, and the Kingdom Defense Spell won’t fall. Maybe I can keep being their son.It took every ounce of my will to force past the maybes and finish the sentence. “I have something to say.”
“Is now really the time—oof!” Kit glared at Dad’s elbow jabbed into their ribs.
“Go ahead, son,” Father said, his voice soft and encouraging. “Tell us whatever you need to.”
Hearing ‘son’ from his mouth almost broke me. “I’m not your son,” my voice cracked on the word ‘son.’ “I never was. It was a lie from the beginning.”
Brendon Banes stared at me without saying a word. Kit’s eyes widened and they opened their both to speak, but Dad—Rick—dug his elbow in further.
“Ouch! Stop doing that!” Kit hissed, batting at his hand.
The weight of Brendon’s stare squeezed the words out of me. “When I was nine years old, my father—the Lord of Grimnight, though he didn’t get the title until later—discovered that I could enter the Desolated Lands. He knew a little bit about the kingdoms, enough to know about the Prince of Bane’s reputation, and that he had red hair.” I tugged a lock of hair, the same shade as his, hard enough to make my scalp sting. “He needed someone on the inside, someone who could help him destroy the Desolated Lands’ defenses so he could invade.”
I waited. For condemnation. For hate. For any fucking reaction at all. I got none of it, so I plunged on ahead. “I wanted to tell you sooner, but he’d bound me with a geas, and every time I tried, I spilled other secrets.”
“Oh, isthatwhy you—” It was Kit’s turn to elbow Rick, but that might have been as much about revenge as him breaking the silence.
“I’m not working with him, I promise. I’m just … I don’t know what to do.” The tears I’d been holding back slipped past my defenses in a cold trail down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry I lied to you. I hope you don’t hate me—”
Brendon pulled me into another hug, the embrace so tight it paused the breath in my lungs. “You don’t have to be blood to be my son,” he whispered in my ear.
Tears streamed from my eyes, but I couldn’t help clutching him back, hiding my face against his chest. “I lied to you. You should be angry with me.”
“I am,” he said, squeezing me tighter until I could barely breathe. “I amso angrythat you’ve been put in this position. You were onlyninewhen you came to us. I don’t know what kind of life you had before, but that alone tells me you needed a better one.I hope we provided that for you.”
“You did.” A woefully inadequate response for how strong of an impression he’d had on my life. Snot and tears gathered on my face, soaking his shirt. “And I love you, for that and everything else.” I pulled away from him. For a moment, he tried to hold on, then he let me go. “I will explain everything, I promise. But first we need to—”
“What’s going on here?”
One of the lacertian’s stood at the end of the hall, gaping at the scene. The sleeping orcs at our feet stirred from the interruption, mumbling sleepy noises. Kit vaulted over them, hands outstretched toward the minion.
The lacertian yelped and scrambled backwards. “The prisoners have escaped!”
If they barred the door, we’d still be trapped in the dungeon even if we weren’t locked in a cell.
Our heart-to-heart cut short, I raced after Kit and the minion. The orcs tossed and turned in their magically induced sleep, creating a small space I could squeeze between.
Kit had caught the lacertian and put them in a headlock. The lacertian reached behind them to fight Kit off, their claws scraping against the metal helmet. Beneath the visor, Kit’s eyes narrowed in a smug grin.
Behind me, I could hear the orcs waking, calling out in confused voices. When I turned to look, I saw their huge bodies blocking the path. My fathers hadn’t made it past them yet and were caught in another fight.
“Go!” Father called, waving me on. “We’ll distract the guards.”
“Focus on breaking the curse!” Dad yelled. He held a long, pronged rod at his side that sparked a dangerous red. He jabbed it toward one of the orc guards, who yelped and leapt away.
They were fighting so hard to give me this chance, and I didn’t even care about the stupid curse. But I did care about Delilah and the others, fighting their way through an evil lair. I cared about Wilde, trying to defend his master and his livelihood. I cared about keepingallof them safe.
I left my family to distract the minions and ran up the stairs. Vines tangled in my feet and around my ankles, trying to slow me down. I yanked my foot away and ripped the vines apart with each step.
