The Trahiad Page 12

  Elisa felt Wyatt grab her around the waist and hoist her into the air. “We did it!” he exclaimed.

  She couldn’t even respond or say anything. Emotions flooded into her, and they overcame her. Tears of joy erupted, and she laughed as Wyatt swirled her in the air. Thoughts of what this meant flashed before her eyes. Freedom. A place to sleep. A consistent line of work. We did it. She hugged Wyatt fiercely, seeing that he shared the same emotions.

  They hugged long enough for everyone to depart, and she noticed that the other ten had already left, and the rest of the Trahiad had dispersed to finish their day.

  The only person who remained was Racin Poe. He stood close to where he was when he announced their acceptance into the Trahiad, and he still looked the same. A look of wonder in his eyes as he fingered the ring and looked at it, front to back, and then back to front.

  “Elisa and Wyatt,” he finally said, looking up at them. Elisa noticed that he had tear streaks on his face. “This is something I value above all else. I’m touched that you could infer this through our brief interactions.”

  Elisa nodded and Wyatt added, “That’s my sis for you, the most brilliant person I know!”

  Elisa glared at Wyatt but relaxed when Racin laughed. “That she is,” he said as he turned his gaze toward her. “You earned your place in the Trahiad, and I foresee a strong and successful career here amongst our people. But this?” he held out the ring and walked toward her. He motioned for her to extend her hand and so she did. Then he placed the ring in her hand, closed her fingers around it, and kept his own hands cupped around hers to prevent her from giving it back.

  “This is from a past I turned from, a past that holds no future,” Racin said. There was no mistaking the sadness in his voice. “So I give it back to you. Do with it what you will, but I’d advise you to keep it. For some reason I think it may come in handy one day.” And with that he turned about and walked away.

  They watched him leave. Finally, they were alone, and they took in the beauty of the Trahiad. She couldn’t believe. They did it.

  After some time, Wyatt cleared his throat.

  Elisa looked at him, slightly annoyed he had interrupted her triumphal thoughts. It surprised her when she saw a look of confusion on his face.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Wyatt shrugged his shoulders. “I mean, I’m glad we’re in the Trahiad now and all. But do you have any idea what we are supposed to do now? I mean—where are we supposed to go?”

  Elisa laughed as she put her arm through Wyatt’s arm and turned him in the direction Racin had gone. “I’m sure it’s this way. Let’s go,” she said.

  Then she led him away from the amphitheater and toward their new home. As she did, she put the ring in her pocket and patted it safely. The ring had value to her now too, and she vowed she would protect it.

  As they walked through the streets of the Trahiad she tried to take it all in, but the only thought she had was the ring in her pocket. It made her think of Darthyn and Elizabeth Scot. They seemed so happy. They seemed so full of life.

  I need to find a way to talk with them again.

  Epilogue

  The Weight of Guilt

  One of the strongest motivators in this world is one that comes from within. One that is sourced by a decision you made in the past. And one that you feel you must rectify. That motivator is guilt. Sometimes we do the rashest things when we try to ease ourselves of guilt.

  One year later…

  Elisa touched the ring around her neck, and once again shook her head as she acknowledged the emotions it stirred within her. Part of her was upset that she cared, but the other part made her think that caring about this is what kept her alive.

  She tried to keep her feelings from her face, but she saw Wyatt raise an eyebrow at her. She ignored him as best she could.

  “So you got it after all?” Racin asked as he pulled out a fine blue jacket. He whistled. “Did you steal this off the back of Senator Trast? Or was it not the right day for him to wear his lucky coat?”

  Wyatt snickered. “He sent it off to be cleaned, so we intercepted it there. Why he doesn’t have his own servants clean his coat is beyond me. Though, Mistress Hapkins is known for being the best seamstress and cleaner in Alderidon,” he added.

  Elisa wanted to slap him, and as she leveled her glare at her brother, he realized what he said and blushed a bright red.

  Racin put the coat down and looked at them seriously. “Trast doesn’t know that the Trahiad stole this? That was the whole point of this operation!” Racin said calmly. Though despite his calm demeanor, Elisa could tell he was upset. He had been explicitly clear that Milow Trast was supposed to know that the Trahiad stole his lucky coat.

  “Well,” Wyatt stammered.

  “Racin,” Elisa said nonchalantly. She glared at her brother again. After all, she had taken care to follow through exactly as instructed, but Wyatt didn’t need to tell Racin how they had done it. “Do you think we wouldn’t follow instructions? He will know, trust me.”

  Racin regarded her curiously. Elisa felt a trickle of suspicion flow through her. Recently, Racin had given her this look more often than was comfortable. She had been in the Trahiad for over a year now and had gained much trust of Racin, but he still regarded her as if she was some kind of unusual specimen.

  “Do tell,” Racin said, intrigued.

  “You told us to steal his lucky coat, which we did,” Elisa began.

  “And to make sure he knew we stole it. That two faced Senator needs to be put in his place after what he did to Jestor—handing him over to Mavin with proof that he’s connected to the Trahiad—after we performed a job for him!” Racin ranted.

  Elisa took a deep breath and waited for Racin to finish. She had heard this rant before and understood the frustration. It wasn’t often that the Trahiad did jobs for others, but especially not for Senators. But Racin had made an exception for Milow Trast. And honestly, Elisa couldn’t figure out why. There was no mistaking the disdain Racin had for Senator Trast, but regardless, Milow Trast held some sway over him.

  Something I must figure out on another day.

  “Please tell me how you made sure he knows we stole his coat. Please,” Racin pled intrigued.

  Elisa smiled. “Trust us, we handled it.”

  Racin’s smile extended. “Just tell me!”

  “We cut a brief message into the pants that match this coat,” Wyatt added.

  Racin’s glee looked like it was about to explode. “What did it say?” he asked, eagerly.

  “Betraying the Trahiad ends with a slit throat for most. This time you’re lucky so raise a triumphant toast! But be warned and be wary and don’t let this go to your head. For if betrayal happens again, you’ll surely be dead,” Elisa quoted proudly.

  Racin Poe whistled. “Threatening a Senator, huh?”

  Elisa stiffened. “He betrayed us! We should take him out—and don’t go all values on me, Racin Poe. He betrayed us! And we lost Jestor, one of our most trusted informants, and someone who helped Wyatt and I get here. If Trast was anyone else…”

  “I know, Elisa. But we can’t kill a Senator. It will start a war we’d be wise to avoid. But I like what you did. It will send him a message. I never have liked that man,” Racin said. Then he grabbed the coat and brought it to his chest. “I can’t wait until the next time I see him. He would wear this to every important occasion. He will be so nervous at the next event. And from the reports I’ve heard, Wayd Scot is returning from Draestl later this week. Ha!” Racin said with glee. “I will be at the reception so I can see Milow Trast’s reaction.”

  I really need to find out more about Racin and Milow Trast’s relationship.

  “Elisa, Wyatt—you’ve done it again. Especially you, Elisa. You were the brains behind this again, I imagine?”

  Elisa blushed.

  “She was,” Wyatt said proudly.

  “You’re something else,” Racin said. “There’s a reason I’
ve promoted you to Sword already. You’re the youngest ever—I’ve told you that before, haven’t I? You might even be my Pen one day. The strategist of the Trahiad! But don’t tell Trea I said that,” he finished with a laugh.

  She nodded. On several occasions…

  “Well, you are something else. So glad you joined us when you did,” Racin said. “Will you be joining us for dinner tonight?”

  Elisa shook her head no at the same time Wyatt nodded yes.

  Racin looked at them quizzically. “Well, which is it?”

  “Wyatt can join, I have some unfinished business I need to handle,” Elisa said. When they both looked at her questioningly, she smiled. “Paperwork,” she said.

  Racin laughed and nodded. Paperwork was how they referred to making sure there were no loose ends after a job. “Ah. It’s always important to take care of the paperwork after a job. Well, our loss. Have a great evening, Elisa. Wyatt, I’ll see you in about an hour?” Racin asked.

  Wyatt nodded.

  Racin bid them farewell and then left, clutching the jacket in hand and laughing to himself as walked away.

  Elisa watched Racin leave and felt the concerned look from Wyatt as her brother’s attention shifted from Racin to her. She tried to ignore the look and what it implied by ignoring her brother completely, but she could feel the look intensifying.

  “What?” she finally exclaimed.

  “Paperwork?” Wyatt answered flatly.

  She finally looked at him and felt guilty with the way she was acting when she saw the concern on his face. “Yeah, paperwork,” she said, softer this time.

  “We already cleaned up after our last job. After our last two jobs for that matter! What is it, Elisa? I can tell something is bothering you.”

  Elisa hated how well her brother knew her. “It’s my business,” she finally said, softly.

  “Your business?” Wyatt asked, incredulously. “Your business? Elisa—you’ve been unhappy for some time now. Why? Why aren’t you happy with what we have?”

  “I am happy,” Elisa said defensively. “The Trahiad is more than I could have ever imagined!”

  “Then why aren’t you happy?” Wyatt repeated. “You’ve gone up the ranks faster than anyone. I mean, you should still be a Soldier like me—for another three to five years! But you—you’re basically Racin’s favorite person, and he’s rewarding you because of it. And it’s incredibly well deserved! Why can’t you be happy with that? What is wrong?”

  Elisa unconsciously fingered the ring tied on a chain around her neck. As soon as she realized what she was doing, she pulled her hand away quickly and hoped that Wyatt hadn’t noticed.

  “It’s that bloody ring, isn’t it?” Wyatt said. “You still feel guilty about it?”

  “I don’t want you to worry, Wyatt,” she answered instead. She didn’t want him to worry. He was happy. She didn’t want him stressed.

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Wyatt said, frustrated. “You feel guilty about that? Elisa, we’ve stolen hundreds of items, and you choose that one to feel bad about?”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” Elisa answered. “They were kind to me, even when they caught me red-handed. They let me free. Darthyn made sure I was free—and this isn’t the first time he let me off the hook either, if you recall. He is taking care of me, and Elizabeth is the perfect mother we never had. Wyatt, it’s just—”

  “Elisa, you need to get over this,” Wyatt said, cutting her off.

  The intensity in her brother’s voice surprised her. He rarely got mad at her.

  “I’m serious. It’s starting to mess with your mind and distract you,” Wyatt said, concerned. “I saw you at Mistress Hapkins—you thought you had lost it and nearly went into hysteria. And just before we delivered Trast’s coat, I saw you fingering it again. You don’t even realize when you are doing it anymore—and in our line of work, awareness is vital to success, and vital to us staying alive! You are distracted. You need to get rid of that thing!”

  Elisa started to get upset with Wyatt—what gives him the right to tell me what I can or can’t do—but as she listened to his points, she suddenly felt an immense amount of weight lift off her shoulders. She knew exactly why she kept thinking about the ring. Just last week she had run into the Scots again, and instead of them treating her like the criminal she was, they had greeted her as if she was a best friend they hadn’t seen in sometime.

  But she had seen them often, though they had never seen her until last week. She had seen them almost weekly, for a year. She knew it wasn’t healthy. Knew she shouldn’t be doing it. But she couldn’t help herself. Almost every week after she visited the library, she found herself near Elizabeth and Darthyn Scot’s palace. She’d watch them and wish for a better life that included them.

  And when she had accidentally run into them last week, they had both embraced her and welcomed her warmly. They had even invited her to dinner. They are like the parents I’ve never had. And ever since, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the Scots, and how guilty she felt about what she had done.

  She remembered what Wyatt had suggested. I should get rid of this ring.

  “Here’s what we do,” Wyatt said as he ran his fingers through his hair. “You give me that ring, and I’ll take it on my next trip out of Alderidon. I’ll find some peddler who trades in… well… questionable jewels, and I’m sure we can get a pretty penny for it.”

  Elisa considered his proposal, but immediately disregarded it. I’d still feel guilty—probably even more guilt—if we go that route.

  No, she knew exactly what she needed to do. “Wyatt, I will not give it you, but I promise I’ll get rid of it tonight. That’s the paperwork I need to handle.”

  Wyatt raised a questionable eyebrow. “Is this something I need to worry about?”

  “Not at all,” Elisa answered with her most disarming smile.

  But Wyatt wouldn’t give in. “What are you planning on doing?”

  Elisa shook her head. “I’m doing this alone. I need to, Wyatt, so don’t get all noble on me and try to follow me. Promise?”

  Wyatt looked like he was about to argue, but a moment later his features softened and he nodded. “Very well, Elisa. But promise me you’ll be safe?”

  She about stuck her tongue out at him, but resisted, and nodded.

  Wyatt nodded in return, and then together they turned and headed toward their home in the Trahiad.

  As they walked in silence, Elisa formulated her plan.

  Damon Slith sat down on the edge of his bed, unbuckled his sword belt, and began removing his draestl armor. As he lifted his arms over his head, he caught a whiff of himself and nearly gagged.

  Wearing all this bloody armor day in and day out is such a chore.

  As the draestl armor came over his head, he felt the pressure of it release. He set it down softly and then stretched his arms above his head and let out a pleasurable yawn. It was late—almost midnight, and they had had a long and laborious day. Darthyn had seemed to have never-ending appointments, and he had insisted that Damon be at his side.

  Not that I’d be anywhere else.

  But now it was time for rest. He hadn’t been sleeping well recently, and though Templar Wine could keep him going for far longer than he should be, he knew that the best thing to mend and keep his health was steady rest. Which he needed.

  He thought about bathing, but figured by the time he finished it would add another thirty minutes to his routine, so he decided against it. Just like last night, and the night before. I’m surprised Elizabeth hasn’t said anything…

  Instead, he lay back on his bed, kicked off his boots, and closed his eyes.

  His eyes snapped open a moment later.

  He had felt it.

  He sat up, one hand instinctively grabbing the hilt of his draestl sword. He closed his eyes and focused.

  There.

  He knew he wasn’t mistaken now.

  The upstairs guard was missing.

&n
bsp; He closed his eyes and began searching. There was always a minimum of twelve guards within the Scot palace. He searched the courtyard, and then throughout the palace floors, trying to locate all twelve of them.

  There was no mistaking it now. The guard on the second floor, right outside of Darthyn and Elizabeth’s room, was missing. Bartholomew.

  He tried searching for him, to find any sign of the guard, but there was no sign.

  Damon closed his eyes again and reached out further. If one is missing, there should be signs of a cause. But he felt nothing, which made his fear increase. If something is concealed from me, that can only mean… dragonshadow.

  Taking a deep breath, he stood up, wrapped his sword around his waist, and slipped out of the room, running quickly and quietly down the hall to discover what had happened.

  He feared the worst.

  Elisa tiptoed into the room, her heart pounding and her anxiety building. Even after all this time, she still felt a rushing thrill as she embarked on a job. At first she had wondered if it was a sign of inexperience or weakness, but she accepted the fact that it was what made her human—and made her so good at stealing.

  My fear of getting caught is what drives my effectiveness.

  The room was dark and peaceful, the only disturbance coming from a slight breeze passing through a cracked window. The window was like the one in the hallway—the one she had crawled through.

  She looked at the sleeping figures, but could barely make out their silhouettes in the darkness. The entire palace was dark, and the only light came from some street torchlights right outside their palace. It offered only a glimmer of light, but it was enough for her trained eye to survey the room.

  And she knew exactly who the figures were.

  Darthyn and Elizabeth Scot. She felt drawn to them and imagined that they were the parents that she never had. She had to shake her head to focus.