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Maybe this will help stabilize some of the balance that’s been upset and has me lashing out and blacking out too often right now. Frankly, I’ll try anything to regain even an ounce of control.
It alleviates some of the guilt I feel as I walk down into the dark chambers. My eyes lan
d on the familiar face that tugs at those absent guilt strings. It’s not just my people I feel as though I’m betraying.
It’s also Slade…though I have no loyalties to him, so I’m not sure why this feels so wrong.
Alton is not a prisoner, but he doesn’t seem to want to leave either. I wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing, and I showed up at the Battle of the Portal too late. Morgana—er, Hannah—was escaping, but I grabbed Alton before she could run off with him too.
I had no plans of keeping him safe. Had no plans of an accidental alliance. I was going to hand him over to Slade.
Then he spoke. He became a person instead of a rumored ghost. He sounded like a wounded victim instead of a fabled villain. And he also became valuable.
“Why are you helping me?” he asks, suspicion lacing his tone as I hand him the basket of food and packs of blood.
“Mostly because you have a lot of information I need. You helped me close the portal. You know things Slade doesn’t.”
“Because I hide in the shadows and watch like a coward,” he says, regarding me, watching for my reaction.
“Everyone has a reason for what they do. I trust you’ll share your reasons with me in time.”
He picks up the sketchbook from the floor, placing it in his lap, but his eyes remain on me.
“My brother will kill you for this. If he finds out you’ve been helping me hide, he won’t show mercy.”
I swallow down the knot in my throat. “I’m aware.”
“Yet you’ll risk it?”
“My life is not as important as my family’s. If you can give me information to help save them from Hannah, I’ll do all I can to protect you from Slade. That’s a promise.”
“He can’t kill me, but he can kill you,” he reminds me.
“He can do something far worse than death to you. Trust me. I’ve seen his plans.”
A pained expression crosses his face. “It’s never a good idea to assume you know Slade’s plans. They’re usually far more intricate than we’ll ever understand,” he says quietly.
“This one is pretty straightforward,” I argue with a little compassion.
I want to feel sorry for him, but that nagging guilt remains, stripping me of any possible sympathy. He reads it in my eyes too.
“You wonder how any brother could ever decide it was better to let his brother suffer in agony? You’re wondering how any brother could ever betray the other?” he asks, reading my mind.
Unsure what to say, I answer, “As I said, I’m sure you’ll explain your reasons in time.”
His lips purse. “If you’re planning to risk your life, then you should know I only live to spare his life. I only stay hidden to spare his soul… To spare him the cost of damning his brother—because a decision like that, no matter how warranted or desperate, will destroy everything inside him. I would know.”
I’m not sure what to say to that.
He passes me the sketchbook, and I stare down in confusion at the picture he has drawn with such careful attention to detail.
“Who is this?” I ask him.
“The reason I betrayed my brother,” he says on a pained breath. “If you want to know everything, then prepare to have a piece of your soul stained for all eternity.”
A shaky breath leaves me as I lower myself to a chair and nod.
The underground tunnel is marked with all sorts of protective signs and symbols. Alton knew of its existence, and he added a number of symbols I’ve never seen before. They look ancient in design, and I have no idea what language he chanted when creating them.
