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“They must have followed us to the laboratory,” Numair mutters between gasps, yet to answer the question. “They waited until it was only Inara and I.”
Realizing she’s not with him, I turn around, expecting for the door to burst open and for Inara to walk in. As time stretches in a deep silence, I realize she won’t.
“Where is she?” I ask and hate to hear a tremble in my voice.
Numair offers us the tiniest shake of his head and presses the towel to his brow. Just like that, I have the answer to my question. Yet, he utters the words anyway. “The soldiers have arrived just as you left. Wraiths were not far behind.”
I will for him to stop. I won’t be able to take another blow. Yet he keeps on going. “They’ve burned the greenhouse. Dug up the lemon tree with its roots and took it away. And to be sure no one ever returns, they’ve rigged the whole place with explosives.”
When he says the last bit, I’m ready to crumble. “They’ve taken Inara.”
Valdus finally awakens from the stupor that possessed him. He marches across the kitchen, grabbing Numair by the lapels of his shirt.
“Did you…” he stops, the rest of the words unwilling to break from his lips.
Numair glances at me, but Valdus presses him even harder into the wall.
“They caught us as we were climbing into the caravan,” Numair says. “I think I killed one. Maybe two. Injured another three at least.” He shakes his head. “Rev has brought an army. I took off as soon as I managed to break free.”
“Answer me,” Valdus roars, shaking Numair so hard, his head hits the wall behind him.
“Valdus,” I shout, crossing the kitchen in a few strides.
He pays no attention to me, anger pulsing through his metal arms.
“You’re blaming the messenger,” Numair says through clenched teeth. Hands of stone grow around him, reaching for Valdus, but he holds his ground.
“Is this the truth?” Valdus asks.
The room thrums with energy.
Wills of stone and metal battling? Or just anger bursting free?
“As soon as they take Inara to the dungeons, they’ll be coming here. They’ll search the house all the way to the cracks in the walls.”
As if to prove his point, the soft rumble of several caravans reaches our ears. What anger there was has fades away. Valdus lets go of Numair, and when he looks at me, I can see cold detachment taking over his brown eyes. The man before me is not the one who has lost his mother, but a leader of the rebellion. The King of Rebels is ready to make any sacrifice if it’ll lead us to the next dawn.
“If you can slip through, go warn the others,” Valdus orders without a second of hesitation. “No one is to go back there.”
Clacking his heels, Numair nods to Valdus and is out of the house.
Valdus darts to me, picks up my hands and tugs me toward the stairs just as the first bangs echo through the kitchen.
“In my room, there is a small cabinet with documents and maps. Take them all. The guns too, as many as you can carry— “
“What about you?” I interrupt him.
He lifts my chin and looks into my eyes, and everything else fades.
“I’ll be fine. Nothing will happen to me,” he whispers.
His kiss is hurried, but I can still taste the lies on his lips.
“Everything depends on those papers. I need you to do this. For the rebellion. For me.” The urgency of his words echoes with each rapid beat of my heart, and his orders keep coming. “The panel at the back of my closet is loose. Numair has used his binding to carve a hole big enough so a person can hide inside. Stay there and don’t move until you’re sure there is no one left in the house.”
The clanging of armor rings through the backyard as soldiers surround the house.
“Go,” Valdus says, pushing me the last step toward the staircase. “Now.”
