Page 148 of Revealing Fate

The twist of hinges announced someone’s arrival. Felíne scrambled to her feet, ignoring the way her cramped muscles screamed in protest. A moment later, Rask’s golden visage appeared over the edge of her hollow. He’d returned to first form, Felíne noticed as she squinted up at him.

“Good morning, beauty,” he crooned, saccharine tone doing nothing to hide the malicious intent of his words. “I trust you slept well.”

Felíne clamped her lips into a thin line as she glared up at him. He chuckled. Then her grate was hauled back. Despite her desperation to escape the miserable hole she’d spent the night in, Felíne didn’t make one move toward the ladder. She would rather spend a week in this hollow knowing Kal and Adder were close by than go anywhere alone with Rask Harless.

Rask studied her. He shrugged. “Persuasion then.” He disappeared from view.

A few moments later, Felíne heard the other two grates being removed. Neither Kal nor Adder made any sound, and the absence of their voices gnawed at her insides with worried teeth.

Kal’s furious, caged features were thrust over the edge of her hollow. Felíne nearly cried at the sight of him. He was exhausted. The deep bruise-like rings beneath his eyes told her he’d gotten less rest than she had. But more prominent than his fatigue was the glacial rage that froze his expression into an impenetrable mask. He was a snow-covered peak, lofty and poised. All it would take was the slightest disturbance to provoke an avalanche.

“Kitty,” Kal said, voice quiet and even. “Climb out. It’s time to go.”

The three prisoners were led out of The Hollows and marched through the silent streets of Meress. It was early. Birds were waking from their roosts, twittering softly to one another in the boughs. Dew still coated the ferns, sprinkling their droplets on the passersby.

Rask hadn’t retrieved them alone. Two shurii males in second form, with identical stony expressions, escorted Kal and Adder. They were led into the city center, a large square expanse of packed earth. The space was often used as a market, where vendors would gather to trade goods, crops, and wares. Sometimes, it became a place for collective celebration: young men reaching adulthood, marriages between families, rejoicing in new life, and honoring those who had passed.

Other days, like today, the square was used for public trials.

A low platform had been erected in the center of the square. Three iron posts as thick as Felíne’s forearm rose from its middle in a triangular pattern. Benches had been arranged in a wide arc around the stage. Meressian citizens had already begun to fill them. Their low conversations hushed as the prisoners were dragged to the dais, curious looks following.

Suddenly, Felíne was back in the arena at the Stillwater Watch Post, forced into the pit with a bloodthirsty grimalkin. She glanced wildly about. Her gaze snagged on Kal’s, and his black eyes anchored her. Felíne took a deep breath. This wasn’t the pit. She wasn’t alone.

She, Kal, and Adder were each shackled to a post and forced to wait. Rask and his two companions took up watch at the base of the platform as more and more shurii arrived to witness the spectacle. Felíne spotted Lucien Cross standing near one of the benches, a severe expression on his unremarkable face. It looked forced. The wicked gleam in his eyes belied the falseness of his features. The bastard. Whatever he had planned excited him. Which meant it filled Felíne with dread.

Another half-hour or so passed before Felíne recognized faces in the gathering crowd. The benches were nearly full, and she couldn’t see through the throng of people surrounding the square. The sun had risen higher into the sky and sent rays of warmth onto the platform where they stood, dissipating the morning chill. Directly across from Kal, Felíne recognized Beulah Porter, Penn, and what must have been her daughters. The children sat at a word from their mother and looked upon the prisoners with varying expressions of concern. Kal’s friend, Santhe, stood stiffly behind the children, her fretful gaze bouncing between Kal and Adder.

Beulah threaded her bulk through the crowd to where Lucien stood. He ignored her and approached Rask near the base of the dais. Beulah watched him with shrewd eyes before reluctantly settling herself on a bench between two men. Felíne recognized them. They’d both been present at her physical trial—the other members of Meress’s Conclave.

But where was Saul?

Trepidation stalked the corners of her mind like a silent predator seeking to eradicate her remaining hope. She prayed it wasn’t too late.

“Meressians!” Lucien boomed, and the crowd instantly fell silent. “Thank you for joining on such short notice. As you well know, a grave injustice has been committed within our lawful borders.” He paused, arms raised in welcome, meeting the eyes of onlookers with his serious gaze. Lucien swept a hand in Felíne’s direction. “A traitor was detained in our gentle wood and faced an inquiry for her crimes, as is our law. She chose a physical trial.” A pause. “That trial was illegally impeded.”

Hushed murmurs. Cross fixed his attention on Kal, who stood impassive and proud as a pillar of marble. “One who has lived among us, claimed to be one of us, aided in this traitor’s escape. He is known to many of you as an honorable man, yet he deliberately and knowingly interfered in this traitor’s inquiry.”

Lucien let the words settle. Let the crowd whisper and confer.

“Furthermore! Not only did this man intentionally disregard the laws that bind us, protect our community, and guide our way of life, but when faced with his own lawless actions, he tortured and killed two of our own!”

Tortured?

Lucien spun and strode to where a length of canvas had been laid out on the ground in her periphery. Felíne hadn’t originally noticed it, but now, as Lucien ripped it away, she couldn’t keep from staring. Several citizens gasped as the bodies of Robb and Skott Carrow were revealed.

Felíne’s mouth fell open. Those were the bodies of the men who’d attacked them? Beside her, Kal went dangerously still.

The brothers’ bodies had been mutilated. Their clothing had been removed, their naked forms on gruesome display. Deep, cruel wounds had been carved into their flesh with a careless blade. Thick flaps of tissue hung open like gaping red and yellow maws. Burn marks blistered the skin of their arms, torsos, and groins. Fingers had been hacked off, leaving blunted, jagged stumps. Robb’s mouth had been forced open, teeth and tongue missing. Skott’s feet were blackened to the shins. One of his knees had been shattered, the lower leg jutting at an awkward angle.

Bile climbed Felíne’s throat.

That was not the condition the bodies had been in when they’d arrived at the Conclave’s hall the day before. Kal’s kills had been clean. She’d seen them. He and Adder had wrapped their bodies in linen. Felíne’s gut twisted in disgust. Someone did this to them. A monster. Rask noticed her horror and sneered.

“You see the deeds of this creature in whom you’ve placed your faith? Trusted with your children? Asked to train your fellow Meressians?” Lucien’s tone took on a dangerous edge. “You see the way he repays your acceptance?”

A woman broke from the crowd, wailing loudly. She threw herself to her knees between the bodies, reaching for them. “Justice!” she cried. Tears, snot, and spittle mixed, spilling from her face to darken the packed earthen floor. “I demand justice for my boys!”

Lucien placed a gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder as she hunched over the bodies, keening. He looked directly at Kal. “Justice, indeed.”