Treason: Book Two of the Grimoire Saga (a Young Adult Fantasy series) (25 page)

She couldn’t let this go any further. She didn’t want Braeden to end up like Helen, or to be used as leverage again. But before she could muster the courage to speak, Braeden continued.

“I can’t deny this anymore, Kara. I would do anything to keep you safe, and even just admitting that out loud terrifies me.”

“Braeden”—her voice was so much quieter than she’d intended—“I know what you want, and I can never give it to you.”

He held her gaze, but his expression hardened into something unreadable.

She plowed on. “Vagabonds can’t love anything more than our purpose. The first Vagabond made that clear enough. And when I wouldn’t listen, when I thought—”

When I thought I was going to lose you,
she wanted to finish, but her voice broke as she remembered that agonizing fear. Her gut twisted at the thought of his pain in the dungeon and the way he’d hung his head, too weak to fight and resigned to fate. That fear still made her heart race. The first Vagabond had used that against her.

She took a deep breath. “He manipulated me. He made me swear to make more vagabonds in exchange for saving your life. You were leverage, Braeden, and he’ll do it again and again to prove his point. Gavin, Ithone, Frine—all the others will do the same.”

“Is that what you meant when you said you’d do anything for me?”

Kara nodded.

He pulled her into a hug. She let him hold her, but she couldn’t hug him back. She just wasn’t strong enough. If she even reached for him, she would cave. He cradled her head in his palm, and she leaned into his neck. The world melted away when he touched her. He was her one safe place.

“I’m not exactly helpless,” he said in her ear.

She caught his eye and paused before she spoke, but she had to make him understand. “You were helpless in that throne room, and that helplessness is the reason I compromised what I believed in to save you.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.

“You’re incredible, Braeden, on so many levels. You’re strong, powerful, clever, smart. But some people will do anything and kill anyone to control the Grimoire. Carden can likewise control you if you have a weakness. We can’t be each other’s weakness.”

“Caring about someone doesn’t make you weak.”

“The Vagabond threatened to let you die to get what he wanted. I
was
weak.”

Braeden let her go. Cold seeped into her skin now that he’d left. He pushed himself to his feet and leaned against the window without looking at her. For a long while, neither of them spoke.

Kara wanted to say something, but she needed a new topic. They might as well talk about the rescue.

“How did you get the Heirs out of the Stele?” she finally asked.

“I killed my own subjects.”

Kara sighed and leaned against the wall. He was angry now. She kept quiet.

He looked down at the floor. “Killing is the one thing I’m good at doing. The way Aurora looked at me, you’d think it was the only thing I knew. I should have seen that coming. I just didn’t think she would do that to someone who had just saved her life. Not only that, but Gavin would have had me killed. Richard never came to speak to me when I was in the dungeons of Ayavel, and will probably never speak to me again. Aurora I can understand, I suppose, but not them. A family isn’t supposed to care about what you are, just what you’ve done. I can’t care about what they think of me anymore.”

“Don’t give up, Braeden. That will make Gavin right. It makes all of the Bloods right. It makes Carden right. You can’t want that.”

“Giving up doesn’t mean I’m going to kill everyone or succumb to Carden. It means I stop lying. I get to do whatever I want—and I know exactly what I want.”

“What’s that?”

“You safe, and Carden dead.”

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Braeden—”

“We don’t ever have to be together, Kara, if that’s not what you want. It doesn’t have to be that way. But I will always make certain you are safe.”

She rubbed her eyes, and the bubbling frustration with the Vagabond and his stupid meddling manifested in a statement she would forever regret.

“Braeden, people already know about us! If you want to keep me safe, you should give me space!”

Wind howled past the window, rattling the glass. He didn’t respond, and a chill crept through the room. Kara shivered as goose bumps raced up her arms. Braeden leaned closer at the motion, like he wanted to hold her, but he looked away when she caught his eye.

Way to go, idiot,
she thought. And she was an idiot. Guilt churned in her gut. But if getting him angry would push him away and keep him alive, then so be it.

“Should we leave?” she finally asked.

He shook his head. “Not at night. Besides, I don’t know where I want to go yet.”

Kara wanted to bridge the gap, to reach out to him before the trip back, but she had very little to go on. Braeden lay down beneath the window and stared at the ceiling, but it wasn’t long before he closed his eyes. Kara resigned herself to a cold, chilly night and curled up against the far wall.

“Gavin changed when he became Blood,” Braeden said, his voice steady.

Kara looked back over to him, but his eyes didn’t open. She got the feeling she wasn’t supposed to answer, so she let him continue.

“I don’t even recognize him anymore. If you don’t make me a vagabond—if you don’t free me from this—there’s no telling what I’ll do with my people when they’re mine.”

“I can’t make you a vagabond. It would kill millions.”

“But you would trust me to be Blood?”

“Of course I trust you, Braeden.”

“No, you don’t. If you did, you’d let me in. You wouldn’t push me away in an attempt to protect me. Me, of all people! Caring about someone isn’t a weakness. If you truly believe it is, then you aren’t as strong as I thought.”

Kara turned back to the wall, unable to answer from the ball stuck in her throat. If he had to hate her,
fine.
She wouldn’t let the Vagabond’s prediction come true.

The night dragged on, but Kara couldn’t sleep. She waited until Braeden’s breathing evened out and turned over to look at him.

He kept his Hillsidian form even as he slept. Amazing. He had more control over his power than she’d thought if he could keep his form in his sleep.

But he was giving up. Focusing on the darkness within him—the love of pain, as he’d called it—would destroy him. She just knew it. It would make the Bloods fear him. They’d get rid of him.

Kara rubbed her face and sighed. This was such a mess.

The cold pendant slid across her neck, and she debated whether or not the Grimoire could help. If a way for Braeden to control his darker side existed, she doubted even her book would know.

She summoned the old book anyway. Blue dust twisted from the pendant’s stone and illuminated the room with its inner light. It settled into her lap and congealed into the Grimoire’s old, leather cover. She slipped a finger under the cover and opened it to the sound of pages crinkling.

“How can I help Braeden?” she asked in a whisper.

The pages didn’t turn.

Kara bit her cheek. Did that mean the Grimoire didn’t have an answer? It had always answered her before.

She opened her mouth to reword the question, but her voice froze in her throat. The air died, and a slow realization crept along her neck. Nothing moved. The trees outside hung in the air, framed by clouds that didn’t move on what had once been a vicious wind. Even Braeden didn’t breathe.

The blue moonlight faded from her world, taking with it the colors in her shirt until only tints of gray remained. Eventually, all light faded from the room.

Her breathing slowed. The darkness pulled against her chest and lifted her to her feet. She floated in the void.

A fire sparked to life in her peripheral vision. Someone walked toward it in a familiar cloak, his hood down. The flames lit the depths of a small fireplace and reflected light onto the figure. He leaned on the hearth, staring into the fire. His shoulders hunched as if he didn’t have the strength to arch his back anymore.

The first Vagabond.

Kara wanted to throw something at him. Did he have to be so theatrical all the time? If he wanted to pull her into the Grimoire, just do it. It didn’t have to be a show.

He turned around, the same young Vagabond who had shown her his memory from the night he died. The same Vagabond who would not let her try to love anyone because he himself had lost.

The people Kara loved always died, but she had been willing to try again. To feel alive again, to feel love—was that worth the risk of Braeden dying? It was just so much easier to blame the Vagabond.

Anger, rage, and an unknown fury flared to life in her stomach. She tried to name the emotion, but she couldn’t at first—she wasn’t just upset, or frustrated, or cornered. The negativity burned within as she tried to figure out this new feeling.

It dawned on her, finally—hatred.

“Vagabond, Braeden needs help. He’s giving up and—”

“That’s enough.”

Kara paused. “What?”

“You promised to make more vagabonds, and I intend to hold you to it.”

“Well, yeah, but first—”

“I will not help you, nor will the Grimoire answer you, until you create your army.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“I warned you. You can’t escape a promise made to me.”

“But Braeden needs help!” She stifled the urge to add,
and I don’t want to lose him!

“You can’t hide your thoughts from me, Kara,” the Vagabond reminded her.

A knot caught in her throat, and she fought back the tears that wanted so badly to be freed. This wasn’t leverage. This was about the Vagabond having absolute control.

“I’m starting to hate you, Vagabond.”

“I sensed that. Hate is quite a strong emotion.”

She bit her lip and glared at the floor. She couldn’t even look at him.

The Vagabond’s voice lacked emotion. “It’s all right for you to hate me, at least for the moment. You must learn these lessons somehow.”

“No, it’s not! You’re supposed to teach me what to do, not police my every thought!”

“I am doing all I can, Kara, but
you
need to remain focused! You are here to end a war, not to be courted!”

“I didn’t sign up to end anything! I never even got a choice!”

“You opened—”

“I opened a
book
, Vagabond. How was I supposed to know what that would mean? I was dragged down a dirt hole by roots and stumbled into a locked library with no way out! There were no hints, no signs to the effect of ‘hey, opening this book is going to screw you over.’ Nothing!

“And I’ve gone along with it. Despite this crazy, gorgeous, backward world, I’ve learned. I’ve listened. Hell, maybe it’s only because I have nothing to go back to. Dad’s soul was stolen because I dragged Ourea back into my old life with me. But every time I try to enjoy my life here or find some beauty in it, you take it away!”

The first Vagabond paused, as if waiting for something. “Are you done?”

Kara’s fist tightened. Any second now, she would lose it and attack him. She just knew it.

He crossed his arms. “Losing Helen taught me the meaning of true sacrifice. It’s a lesson you should have learned by now!”

His voice boomed so loudly that Kara’s heart skipped a beat. Her voice died in her throat.

He continued. “Love destroyed everything I ever accomplished. I thought Helen was my savior. She taught me happiness, but that happiness made me soft. Vulnerable. And just as Braeden was leveraged against you, she was leveraged against me. No leader should have to choose between his lover and his followers. I couldn’t choose, and you will never have to face that choice if you listen to me.”

Kara tightened her fist. “But you did choose! You stayed behind as a ghost when she said she would wait for you in the next life. You chose duty. All I want is to be happy.”

“You’re a hero, Kara. You don’t get to be happy.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Your idea of happiness is to love and be loved. That’s your peace. You’d hold the lives of your family and your lover as more important than those of the masses. Their needs and desires would mean more to you than the greater good. That love is a distraction from your purpose. It becomes leverage, which means it is weakness. If you let yourself love only a few, you will fail.”

“How can you be so calculating? This is life and purpose and love!”

His shoulders slouched. “With all the death and betrayal you’ve already seen, how can you not?”

“Because I’ve seen the other side of it, Vagabond, a side I thought you’d already seen with Helen. Love is a blessing. It’s what makes life beautiful and gives us purpose. You were hurt. I’m sorry about what happened to Helen, but you can’t be afraid of life because it screwed you over in the past.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do! You sacrificed everything for your cause, but come on. That wasn’t purely out of selflessness. Somewhere in there was love, love for the greater good maybe, but part of what gives us purpose is what we love. Who we love. Without it, without them, there is no reason for trudging through. I refuse to be afraid to love someone because you are.”