Page 55 of A Storm Rises

“Yes, Manny Vela. He is Mateo’s father by choice. He raised Mateo with all the love of a real father. His friendship for your grandfather knew no bounds. He practically raised your mother as well. He has been a faithful servant of the Strong family for a century’s mid-moon.”

Mateo’s face at the finish line sprang to her mind. It took three days by carriage from Summit Range to the Sublands, and Mateo had three days until he was executed. Did that mean he was… Avalynn gulped, and a burning pain pierced her heart. “I must know what became of Mateo.”

“He is safe for now.” Lady Sonia’s eyes softened. “Pending a formal inquiry regarding the hunt’s events and your disappearance, his execution has been stayed.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. Mateo was still alive. But for how long? His execution had still been ordered and would still happen. And it was her fault. But then another dawning recognition hit her…Mateo was home. He was a Stromm. A member of the family he despised. And no one knew.

With a reach and a pull on the sleeve, Avalynn asked. “Does this family know the truth that I have just now learned?”

“They do, but only because I told them when you arrived. It was done this way for your protection and Mateo’s, and at Gabriela’s insistence.”

Manny knocked again, but this time harder. “I need answers. Now.”

Avalynn clutched the cross. Would it give her protection like it did Mateo? Mateo adored and cherished these people, this family. She was certain they felt the same way about him, even if he was sired by highborns. How could they not? He was born and raised here. She slipped the cross necklace on.

Lady Sonia eyed the precious heirloom with a smile, then placed her hand on Avalynn’s shoulder. “There is still much for us to discuss. But we must include Manny and the family. Are you ready?”

Was she ready? She gulped. Her nerves were a chaotic whirlwind. She would never be ready but needed to face the man they called Manny. “I will need this man of loyalty to my mother and father and grand sires. Most of all, I need the man who raised Mateo Vela.”

If she was the Only One, then her lowborn story had just begun in the Sublands. And she needed Manny.

Could he be executed already? The dim dungeon wrapped him like a fog, the blood and guts from the rabbit stuck to him like a second skin, and the bucket of his excrement in the corner steamed with stink. Being put out of his misery would be better than this. A scrap of bread here, a drop of water there… His final moments could not come fast enough.

He stopped caring about Avalynn’s betrayal two days ago. His shock and anguish transformed until it evolved into a resilient shield that guarded the remnants of his heart. She was nothing more than a phantom now, lost in the shadow of his memories. A rotten piece of fruit left to wither on the vine of his past. A Stromm. He never wanted to see her again, though he was sure she’d be at his execution. Front row for his death by beheading. He would not give her the satisfaction of knowing how deeply she cut him. He would not glance her way. Or maybe he would… Maybe he would level her with a stare until the bitter end. He shook his head. As if she would even care.

With his hands clasped in front of him, his family and friends sprang to mind. He hoped they were okay and that the news of his fate hadn’t troubled them too much. They all knew the risk of the hunt. But still…

A clunking sound pulled him to his feet, followed by pounding boots. It was day three. Time to put an end to all things. A trio of guards opened his cage. Two pointed their spears at him; the other held out a stack of clothes. Simple brown garments.

“Your High King and Queen would like me to change my clothing for my big send-off? I am not opposed to it, of course.” He stepped out of his cell. “Perhaps I could have a final meal as well? I’m not sure how these things are carried out since this is all new to me, but a spread would be nice.”

“Silence,” the tallest one warned.

With the spears pressed to his back, he made his way down the corridor. Outside, the bright sun blinded him, the warmth welcome against his cold and grimy skin. They walked down a crushed granite path that hugged the outer gardens and winded to a small brick building Mateo hadn’t noticed before. “Will I be changing here? Or do you have something else planned for me, like some sort of pre-execution torture?”

The guards nudged him inside, and he found himself in a small bathhouse. Tan brick lined the walls, and white marble covered the floor. In the middle sat a large tub filled with steamy hot water. Mateo’s shoulders dropped as a sigh escaped his lips. “Please tell me that is for me.”

The guard set the clean clothes on a stool. “It is.”

He didn’t care why he was getting a bath or who stayed to watch. He was already stripping down and climbing in. With a soft groan, he submerged himself in the water and stayed there as long as he could hold his breath. His hands moved across his chest over the raised and bumpy cuts and scrapes inflicted by the Shadowblood Fox. Their scuffle in the cave seemed so long ago, that time with Avalynn like a dream. Though now more like a nightmare.

Mateo broke the ripples with an exhale and took the cloth draped over the edge of the tub. He began scrubbing, and the towel sudsed with notes of lavender and sage. He undid his braids and ran his fingers through his dark strands. The crystal-clear water soon turned murky as the dark and chunky remains of the hunt floated atop. He thought of that foul creature Eiric and how Selene, Avalynn, and Finnian did their best to clean him before his departure. He was grateful to have the same opportunity.

A spear knocked on the edge of the tub. “Out.”

With a final rinse, Mateo got out, dried himself, and put on clean clothes. He snatched his cross from the pocket of his dirty pants and placed it in his clean one. Feeling almost like himself, he followed the guards out of the bathhouse. Instead of heading to the back of the garden, where he’d thought his execution would take place, the guards prodded him to the palace.

“Why are we going to the palace?” He eyed the guards. “A final meal? Perhaps some meat and fresh bread?”

They kept their silence as they entered the rear door and escorted Mateo to the receiving room. The thick, heavy doors were closed, and outside waited Master Kragar. Mateo nearly tripped over his feet at the sight of the mad dwarf. What did he want?

His scowl dug deep into his face, his red hair greased down and woven into several small braids. He waved his axe in Mateo’s face. “You listen up, lowborn. You have been summoned to a meeting of the Royal Council to answer questions about what happened to the missing hunters. You will be truthful or?—”

“—I will be executed? Oops, too late.”

Kragar’s blade came within a hair’s breadth of his nose. “You will be truthful, or you will be tortured slowly for over an eon until all of your blood is emptied drop by drop. You understand?”

Mateo flared his nostrils, feigning indifference while his gut clenched. “Whatever you say, Master Dwarf.”

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