Page 95 of A Simple Truth

You haven’t met many generals, have you?

The oil in the lamps had long burnt out and the stack of papers, with my neat handwriting alongside her absolutely chaotic scrawl, were scattered across the plush couch. Each page was filled with stories. I had told her of my least and most favorite generals in Destroyer history and their dumb, yet brilliant decisions. I had told her of my uncle. She’d told me of her maid.

Line upon line, we talked well into the night, the Moon Goddess lighting up the room with her silvery glow. We wrote about anything and everything. How she gambled for chores with her maid or how she had hallucinated once from accidentally eating poisonous mushrooms. I’d told her of growing up in the barracks, of my uncle and my friends that were gone. Of the hidden half-charcoaled piano buried in the basement of Blackstone Castle that nobody knew about. Of the midnight runs into the fields to tip cows in the villages, and the time I was banned from the War Games.

The stories flowed like a stream, constantly changing, and always so refreshing. We talked about the wildest gossip she had overheard in Svitar’s libraries, and about the time I burned allmy teachers and their books so I could get out of our lessons early. The black ink connecting our minds like threads, creating something of beauty.

Until tomorrow then?Finnleah had asked.

“Until tomorrow, my little wildfire...” I whispered into the dark.

59

OREST

Irested against the wall with my knife out, picking my nails, waiting. This hall was a perfect spot; hidden by the shadows, away from any of the servants’ eyes, and close enough to the dungeons, that no screams would be heard. And most importantly, it was a place another spy would have to cross if they planned to head to Gideon’s room.

Now, in the middle of the night, the gray, empty corridors of the fortress seemed especially haunting. I enjoyed the certain thrill of it. There were only shadows and demons lurking within—a fitting place for me to be.

I had long decided what I was going to do, now I was just patiently waiting for the prey to walk straight into my trap. The eighth soldier caught my eye the moment we walked into that dungeon earlier this morning. He was so skilled and accurate with his casting and his precision. I respected it. Applauded it.

And yet, somehow, he was still not careful enough.

He was older than me, and I wondered if I had seen him before, forcing my mind to remember, but those memories were all jumbled into one—just blank pages covered in blood.

Rushing steps echoed through the stone walls. I held onto my dagger silently, readying. I never needed to descend into the Numb for this, a part of me unreasonably excited... A part that I had hated about myself with every cell in my body, but a part that I had long accepted.

“Hello there, Truth Teller,” I whispered. With one swift motion, I pulled the stunned soldier into the alcove submerged in darkness. When his initial shock wore off, I removed my cold hand from his mouth and took a step away from him. “That’s better,” I cooed as I watched him stare back at me. “It’s been a long time since I’ve encountered someone like you,” I casually mentioned. He stood there, frozen, yet his eyes didn’t lie.

“I could say the same thing to you,” he replied, there were no fear in his eyes. I smiled at that.

I gave him a curious look, my eyes running up and down his body. He had daggers, and his hand was on his sword, but all of his weapons were pointless. No, his fate was already sealed.

“How long since your first jump?” I asked.

“Thirteen years and three months,” he obediently answered.

“Impressive,” I noted. “Why are you here?”

“Hosam’s orders, but you knew that,” he said, and I nodded.

“You never left your master, did you?” The realization hit me harder than I expected. Perhaps I needed to do more breathing exercises, because the burning rage came back faster than I had hoped.

“No. Never,” he retorted with conviction.

They always said that.

Ihad said that once.

“Do you remember your life before?” My voice was calm, but sorrow mixed with fury swirled within me.

“Only what master has allowed me to remember.”

“Your master was more kind than mine.” I let out a heavy breath.

“Are you going to kill me?” he asked. There was no panic or worry in his tone, just acceptance and peace.

“No, you are going to kill yourself,” I said as I made the jump, carefully sifting his raw memories, his thoughts, until I had collected everything that I possibly could.

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