Rebel Spring
He took five steps down the hall before she called out to him. “Prince Magnus, please!”
He turned. At that moment, there was nothing in Cleo’s expression except the need for him to help her in some small way. She believed he could do that much.
“Apologies, princess,” he said, holding her gaze, “but while you were gone my father took the life of your friend Mira for overhearing a private conversation. I do regret that he made that decision, but I can assure you her death was quick and painless.”
Horror crossed her face. “What?”
“She was taken away, her body burned, the bones buried in the servants’ graveyard. Again, I am sorry for your loss. There’s nothing to be done to fix this.”
The sound of Cleo’s grief-filled wail followed him all the way back to his chambers.
Chapter 18
JONAS
THE WILDLANDS
That same hawk was back again, perched in the trees. She kept Jonas in sight for most hours of the day. Perhaps he was being paranoid, especially since he didn’t believe in legends. . . . But, still.
If she was a Watcher, then Jonas hoped she would approve of the plan he’d just laid out before his rebels, explaining how they would assassinate King Gaius and Prince Magnus at the princess’s wedding.
“Let me get this straight,” Lysandra was the first to speak up when he was finished. “You won’t attack the Blood Road like I want, but you think you can march into the royal wedding at the Temple of Cleiona and kill both the king and the prince where they stand.”
“That is what I said, isn’t it?”
“I thought maybe I’d heard you wrong.”
“Do you have a problem with my plan?”
“Several problems, actually.” The girl looked stunned, as if he’d managed to take her by surprise. She stood next to Brion, who regarded him with bemusement. “Anyone else with problems?” Jonas turned in a circle to survey the rest of the group. The rebels spoke quietly to each other, eyeing him with varying expressions—from interest to awe to wariness. “Or is Lysandra the only one who always wants to oppose me on every decision I make?”
“We were all nearly slaughtered by the king once already. You want him to have another chance at it?” a boy named Ivan said. Originally, Jonas had thought him someone with leadership qualities, but Ivan rarely took an order without debate and complaint. Everything was a fight with him. And the bravery he showed by his size and muscles didn’t seem to go much further than the surface.
Ivan had a point, but it wasn’t a very good one. Not one rebel had fallen beneath the Limerian guards’ blades the night they’d invaded the camp, which was both a miracle and a relief. The plan to scatter and regroup at their secondary location had been a sound one. Jonas took this as a sign that they were meant to fight another day.
Yes. Cleo’s wedding day. “This will work,” Jonas said, his voice loud enough for all fifty of his rebels gathered around to hear. “King Gaius will fall.”
“Show him,” Lysandra said.
Jonas frowned. “Show me what?”
Brion stepped forward. He had a piece of parchment in his hand, which he unrolled and held up for Jonas to see.
On it was a sketch of a dark-haired boy and a proclamation.
Jonas Agallon
Wanted for Kidnapping and Murder Leader of the Paelsian Rebels Who Oppose the Great and Noble King Gaius’s Rightful Reign over All of Mytica 10,000 Centimos Reward
Dead or Alive
His mouth went dry. He handed it back casually. “Doesn’t look anything like me.”
Lysandra made a disgusted grunting sound. “You see what we’re dealing with here? You’re famous.”
“This means nothing. It stops nothing. Besides, I might be guilty of kidnapping, but I haven’t murdered anyone.” Not yet, anyway. Give him time.
“Do you think lies will stop the king? He means to end you and he’s offered the greedy Auranians a reward to help pinpoint your location.”
“For ten thousand centimos, I’m tempted to turn you in myself,” Brion said.
Jonas snorted uneasily. “For ten thousand centimos, I’m tempted to turn myself in.”
“This isn’t funny.” Lysandra gave both of them a dirty look.
He had to agree, it wasn’t. But he wasn’t surprised that the king would do something like this. In fact, it was a good sign that the king had begun to consider the rebels a serious threat. If Jonas had to be the face—albeit a poorly sketched one—of the rebel resistance, then he would take on that mantle with pride.
“I thought you wanted me to make a move like this, Lys,” Jonas said, trying to ease the anger he saw rising in her expression. “You’ve wanted us to attack the road camps ever since you joined us.”
“And I saw for myself how unprepared for an attack of that magnitude we are. I know now that we can’t go in as a random assault, not with so few of us. We would be slaughtered if we don’t go in with a plan. So I’m working on just such a plan. I’m figuring out what point of the road is the weakest, where we could make the most difference.”
“You can’t say that it’s a bad move to take the king out, can you? If he’s dead, his road will cease construction. Agreed?”
She glared at him. “I can agree on that much.”
“Then there’s no problem.”
“Wrong. There is. He needs to die, I agree. But this is to be your first act of true rebellion, beyond destroying frescos of his face? Suddenly, you’ve become a stealthy assassin, able to sneak into a heavily guarded temple and get close enough to sink a blade into both the king and the prince without anyone stopping you. Even with the offer of a reward for your capture plastered all across Auranos?”