The Traitor's Kiss (Traitor's Trilogy #1)

He needed to escape, but the only way down was through the fire. Catching sight of the wet flag, he hopped down and pulled it off the steaming deck. Much of the moisture had baked away, and it was hot to the touch, but it would have to do. He wrapped it around his body as heat seeped through the soles of his boots, and he remembered something his father had told him weeks ago. When you’ve chosen your course of action, seize it with all your might.

Charlie pulled the corner of the flag over his head and launched himself into the breech, pushing and rolling away from any surface he touched. Smoke and cinders blinded and choked him as he bounced his way to the stone floor until he came face-to-face with the burning skull of a man. The body tipped back as he bumped against it, making the jaw open farther, shrieking silently at him. With a terrified sob, Charlie crawled away on his belly, using the direction the smoke was being drawn upward and out as an opposite compass.

Once he was safely away from the furnace above, he rested against the wall and tried to decide if he should stay there. Then the remainder of the ceiling collapsed with a thunderous roar, and he ran down, stumbling over the body of the first guard Alex had killed.





82

THE NEXT LEVEL up, Alex found a family room with several offshoots to bedrooms. Like the rooms below, they were all deserted. The smell of smoke was stronger and included burning flesh, and the building shook with a tremendous crash from above. Understanding came to him: the top of the keep was on fire. A new fear realized, Alex dashed out of the room and up as he heard a high-pitched yell he recognized instantly.

Charlie.

He flew around the corner and around another bend to the duke’s level. At the top of the steps stood Captain Geddes, holding Charlie against his body. The boy was singed and covered with soot but otherwise looked unharmed. Alex would’ve sobbed in relief if the feeling wasn’t so immediately displaced by rage.

With his head twisted to the side and pinned against the guard’s stomach, Charlie could meet Alex’s eyes with only one of his own. Alex tried to give his brother a reassuring smile before shifting his gaze to the leering face of the man above him.

“You have quite a habit of losing things, Captain,” the guard said, sliding a large, menacing knife from his belt. He gestured with it. “Drop your sword.”

Alex lowered his blade but did not release it from his grip. “Let the boy go.”

“Out of curiosity, Captain, if you had to pick one to save, which would you choose?” He cocked his head to the side. “This one, I guess.” He sneered. “But now we have someone who actually matters to you. So drop it.”

“I’ll drop my weapon when you drop yours,” Alex replied calmly.

Charlie took the hint and let his knees buckle, forcing Geddes to suddenly support all his weight with the arm slung across his small body. For a moment, the man struggled to keep from losing his balance on the edge of the landing. In the long-practiced move, Alex released his sword and drew his own dagger, flinging it up and into the guard’s face in a single motion. The dead man froze for a second before crumpling over the boy now crouched at his feet.

Alex crawled up the steps to pull the body down, allowing Charlie to slither out from under it. He was about to ask if his brother had seen the duke when D’Amiran himself stepped out of the doorway, seized Charlie by his dark hair, and heaved him back up to the landing.

Alex lunged for Charlie’s feet, but D’Amiran dragged the boy backward and into his room. By the time Alex reached the door, it was barred shut. He kicked and pounded on it, trying not to scream in panic.

A noise on the stairs made Alex turn away from the duke’s chambers and reach for his sword, which he belatedly realized was still on the steps where he’d dropped it. He had only one dagger left, and he clutched the hilt as Gramwell came flying around the corner.

The lieutenant stopped when he saw Alex and glanced around. “What—”

“Charlie,” Alex gasped, pointing to the door. “He’s got Charlie in there, but I think it’s just him left, no guards.”

And Sage. She was probably in there, too. It was the only place left.

Gramwell nodded and scooped up Alex’s sword and ran up the last few steps to hand it to him. Corporal Denny and Private Skinner came around the corner behind him, wheezing from their sprint up the keep. Alex gestured to the door. “Get it open.”

Alex sheathed his sword and pulled Gramwell aside as the men hacked at the door with battle-axes, barely denting the solid oak. “We need to get in another way. We can’t wait.”

“There are two windows on the east side,” Gramwell said. “We can climb down from the top of the keep. I’ll go find some rope.” He turned to run back down.

Alex grabbed his arm and pointed up the stairs. “There’s already some up there.”

Together they ran to the next level, Alex praying the fire hadn’t burned away the rope the Kimisar hung from.

The stone floor was warm under their boots, but the fire had nearly succumbed to the rain that poured in once the ceiling collapsed. Alex picked up a sodden flag at the top of the stairs and began swinging it at the remaining flames to clear a path. He could see the rope around a crenellation above and thanked the Spirit it was only singed. As he tried to climb up to it, the half-burned wood beneath him gave way, and he fell back down to the floor.

Gramwell grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet, slapping the cinders that threatened to burn through Alex’s clothes, but he barely felt their heat. “I need a boost,” Alex said.

His friend dropped to his knee and laced his fingers together. Alex stepped into the joined hands, and Gramwell heaved him up. He reached the wall and pulled himself higher until he could throw a leg over the edge.

“You good?” Gramwell called. Alex nodded and leaned over to pull up the body hanging from the rope. Gram picked up the wet flag and kicked the blackened remains of the ceiling aside. He wrapped the cloth around his hands and grasped a burning chunk. “I’m going to take some of this fire down to the door.”

Alex nodded again and pulled out his knife. His stomach clenched as his fingers wrapped around the blood-crusted black hilt with its gold letters, and he began sawing the Kimisar soldier free from his noose. A minute later the body tumbled down the side of the keep, and Alex lifted the loop from around the stone block in front of him. He stood and climbed atop the wide crenellation. With the rope over his shoulder he ran around the wall, bounding from rise to rise, until he got to the opposite side.

There were two windows below: one into the bedchamber and one into the sitting room. Which one? The bedchamber could undoubtedly be barred from the inside. From the sitting room, he could again be on the wrong side of a locked door. But he could let Gramwell in, and the bedchamber door probably wasn’t as strong as the outer one.

Sage was likely in the bedchamber, the implications of which made him sick. But if he entered through that window, the duke might panic and kill her if he felt he had nowhere left to hide. As long as she and Charlie were alive, D’Amiran had bargaining chips. Geddes’s words came back to him: Which would you choose?

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