Seeing his hesitation, Ilain stepped forward. “Trust me,” she said passionately. “Between my power and your Bond with Evylin, wecando this. We will have all eight Relics. No one can stand in our way.”
Deckard met Evylin’s gaze then, questioning her with a look. Could they do this? Were they strong enough?
“We have little choice,” Evylin replied to his unspoken plea. “Either we fight Blount here—now—or we let him take thekingdom and wait for a better opportunity that may never come. He has four Relics. He can hole up in the city for as long as he likes, and we can do nothing to stop that.”
“He knows we’re coming for him,” Isla agreed. “After years of working with Blount, I can tell you, he’s not going to give us an easy path. We either take him today, or we hand him the reign of both countries for untold years.”
“We don’t know all our options,” Deckard argued. “What if we rush into this battle and lose when we could have waited a day or two and come out the victors?”
“Blount is weakest now,” Brea said. “He can’t have finalized his takeover yet. While his men work to subdue the city, his force is divided. Once he establishes himself—likely within days due to the Mages working alongside him—it will be nearly impossible to unseat him.”
“Acting now gives us the best odds,” Thom said with a slow nod. “The city is in turmoil, forced to submit to a false leader. They’ll not only be gratified to see Blount defeated, but once they learn it was the Alliance who did it, they’ll welcome the new rule of Allund.”
Deckard lifted his chin. It was true. If the people learned the Alliance was their savior, they’d flock to them. It was the best opportunity to win the people’s goodwill at the outset of the new nation’s establishment.
And he hesitated to afford them such a chance.
“I don’t trust the Alliance,” Deckard admitted, finally putting words to the fears he’d harbored silently for so long.
Ilain, Isla, Vayden, and Brea looked at him uneasily. Their frustration, confusion, and hurt were plain. With that declaration, it was as though he’d rejected each of them individually. By stating his distrust of the organization, he was veritably announcing his distrust of them.
Deckard shook his head. “You’re so sure they’re good and noble? All of you?”
“Do you think we’d be part of something that wasn’t?” Ilain asked.
“I think,” he said with gentleness, “perhaps they’ve duped you. Just as they did us.”
Brea pulled herself to her full height—though nearly an entire foot shorter than Deckard—beside him. Her dark eyes met his steadily. “Your cynicism is puzzling,” she said. “You live your life determined to be good and noble. You act as the ideal Allorian gentleman. Yet, you question the validity of an organization that believes the same values as you. Why? When you’ve lived with the Calders for three months—when you’ve traveled with Vayden, Isla, and me for three weeks—how can you question our sincerity? How can you not trust us?”
Deckard took a deep breath and shrugged. “Everyone has something they want,” he said. “You each have specific goals, and the Alliance will help you achieve them.”
“You think we’re selfish? We have risked our lives for you.” Her gaze darkened, and she dropped her voice so that only he and Evylin beside him could hear. “I riskedmylife for your brother’s. How can you doubtmewhen you’ve seen through what few secrets I hold?”
Deckard blinked, hearing the unsaid. He’d recognized her affection for Thom from the start. It wasn’t hard, but Brea was cunning enough to cover her fondness as friendship. But she’d never fooled Deckard.
Wetting his lips, Deckard forced himself to acknowledge the truth. The fact was, he did trust Brea. He trusted Ilain, Vayden, and Isla too. Their intentions were honorable. And if they genuinely believed in the Alliance’s aims....
“They use duplicitous means to accomplish their purposes,” Deckard said, still contending for his point.
Brea smirked. “Not so differently from you. I believe Thom told you that I listen to conversations as a matter of course,” she said. “I listened to your discussion with your father-in-law as well.”
Deckard’s brow rose in shock.
“And you lied through your bloody teeth the entire time.”
Feeling wholly exposed by her accusation, Deckard drew back. Thom snorted, and Evylin set a hand over her mouth, a wave of humor washing out of her despite the tension in the group.
Deckard gave them both a perturbed look. But he couldn’t deny that Brea was right. He had lied to Lawton Glaas the entire conversation. He’d assured him that Evylin wasn’t a soldier; the king had simply granted her an honorary title. He’d created false personae for Brea and the Calders. He even told the magistrate that Hewitt’s death was at the hands of a bear in his letters. At every turn, Deckard lied to make the truth palatable. And he’d done that his entire life.
The Alliance’s duplicity seemed tame by comparison.
Scratching the back of his neck, Deckard didn’t care to admit his crimes in front of his men. “I will concede that the Alliance may not deserve my full criticism,” he said. “However, it does not solve the problem we face. Whether or not they’re worth serving is a matter for another day. For now, we must find a way into the palace.”
“Would you like us to dig a hole, Highlord?” Rafferty asked snidely.
Deckard sent him a sharp look, but Evylin set a hand on his arm. “I have a suggestion,” she said. They turned to her, waiting. “In our party, we have a spy, a hunter, and a thief—”
“I’m an entrepreneur,” Rafferty corrected.
