The Girl Who Dared to Think (The Girl Who Dared #1)

Something’s wrong with Scipio, my brother’s whispered message shouted in the back of my mind. Maybe this was what my brother had been talking about—that Scipio had convinced the council that killing ones was the only way to keep the Tower safe. They would’ve gone along with it, if he presented enough evidence to support it. But Scipio wasn’t supposed to do that; human life was supposed to be protected. That was his function.

I put the worrisome thoughts aside and focused on the task at hand. I could dwell on the problem with Scipio and the council later. Grey was the priority right now.

Gerome led the way to the door and finally came to a stop. “There’s something I need to warn you about.”

I looked up sharply. The last thing I needed today was a surprise.

He must have misinterpreted my discomfort, because he said, “Nothing to do with the one, I promise you. However, you will have a special guest.”

“A guest?” I echoed, puzzled. My parents weren’t coming, and the Knights wouldn’t want Zoe or anyone else to know what they were doing down here... There was no one else it could be, except for Alex.

That thought would’ve brought me to a complete and utter stop if we’d been moving. As it was, I was having a difficult time staying upright. The thought of my brother being there, watching... That would mean he knew about it, and—

I forced myself to stop. I was being paranoid. Alex didn’t know anything about this. I was sure of it.

“Yes,” Gerome said, a small frown gracing his features. “When his schedule allows, he likes to be present for a Squire’s first execution. He—”

“Likes to make sure that the right people end up where they belong,” a second voice finished smoothly from behind us.

I spun, and for a moment it was all I could do to stop my jaw from slamming to the floor. The figure before me was a man unbent by age. His silvering hair was tied back in a tight knot, his goatee clipped to a careful point. A hooked nose speared out from between bright, glittering, dual-colored eyes—one blue and one brown—which looked down on me with a hint of judgment. He wore a broach in the shape of a silver hand closing around an eye.

Champion Devon Alexander, head of our department. The Champion of Six Bells, and the Defender of the Gate, so named for the feats he had completed during the Tourney the Tower held to select new Champions.

“This is Squire Castell, Knight Commander Nobilis?”

Gerome nodded, seemingly unfazed by the man’s arrival. “Squire Liana Castell, Champion Devon. Daughter of Silas and Holly Castell, two of your highest-ranked Knight Commanders.”

I was doing everything I could not to start shaking. This was the guest? A council member and one of the most powerful men in the Tower? His bravery knew no ends, if the stories were to be believed.

The man reached out a gloved hand, and before I knew what was happening he had cupped my chin, turning my face this way and that like an apple he was inspecting for bruises. I let it happen without protest. Now, more than ever, I needed to be nine material. One misstep, and Devon would be onto me.

“I can see the resemblance,” he said, abruptly releasing my head. “She has Silas’s stoicism. She was a twin, was she not?”

“Yes, but third-born.”

“Really?” Devon’s voice was high, almost incredulous. “What happened there?”

“Scipio spared her.”

Devon’s eyes darted toward me, and for a moment I thought I saw a flash of apprehension, and wondered what it could possibly be. Scipio’s will was normally treated as a blessing, not something to fear. For him to react that way... It was really weird and off-putting.

“You must feel very blessed,” he said after a moment, and I nodded, keeping my features as expressionless as possible.

“Scipio granted me my life. It’s only proper that I use that life to serve him as well as I can.”

Devon smiled, a tight-lipped thing, and Gerome coughed softly into his fist. “Shall we?” he asked, activating the door.

It slid open, and I held back to allow both of them through. I moved in behind them and closed the door, sealing us in. My eyes darted to the walls, looking for the light switch and finding it on the other side of the room. All I had to do was go over to it, “accidentally” turn it on, and pray that Grey remembered the Callivax lessons we had been given when we were young.

I looked over to see Gerome and Devon going over a file together—likely Grey’s, which would probably need Devon’s seal of approval—and took the opportunity, striding quickly to the light switch and turning to lean my back against the wall. My eyes darted around the room to Gerome and Devon. Devon was placing his thumb on Gerome’s pad when I applied pressure to the switch and the room lit up.

Grey immediately rose to his feet, and I watched as his eyes slid over Gerome and Devon, finally landing on me.

“What the—”

I hurriedly began signing to Grey as the two other men looked up at the bulbs, still unaware of what had caused them to activate.

P-l-a-y a-l-o-n-g. I signed this using the Callivaxian alphabet, rather than any of the more complicated signs that the Divers were fluent in. All citizens of the Tower received rudimentary training in each department’s language, but it was when we were young, and many people forgot them from lack of use. I signed it once, then again, and kept signing it, meeting his gaze and then looking pointedly at my hand down by my thigh. Praying he would understand what I was trying to tell him. Praying that he’d get it before it was too late.

“Liana, you’re on the switch!” Gerome suddenly exclaimed.

I jerked with faux surprise and turned around, immediately flipping the switch and killing the lighting.

“I apologize,” I said, trying to work just a smidge of mortification into my voice. “I didn’t realize. Do you think... Do you think he saw me?”

I turned, keeping my face neutral, but with just a taste of apprehension.

Devon and Gerome both stared at me, and then Gerome gave me a friendly smile. “It won’t matter—he’ll be dead soon.”

“Yeah, about that.” I sucked down a deep breath and grounded myself, preparing to spin my fair share of lies. “Sir, I want to collect his body afterward.”

Gerome and Devon exchanged baffled looks, and I barreled on. “My father and I were talking about this last night, and he told me that one of his Squires asked him the same thing once. My father, understandably, was confused at the time, of course, because he wasn’t sure why. So he asked the Squire, and he said, ‘If I kill this man, then it is my responsibility to see that his remains are treated with the utmost respect, for this is the last service he will perform for the Tower, and that is important.’”

“Who was this?” Devon asked, blinking over at Gerome, and Gerome shrugged.

“Not entirely sure, but the story sounds familiar.”

I blinked and managed not to smile, but Gerome’s acknowledgement had unwittingly given me validation. Too bad the story was a complete lie.

“When my father told me about it, I realized that was how I could cope with what I had to do here today. I want to remember these people for the sacrifice they made.”