Page 111 of Heir of Illusion

The moment she gave me that note, I knew it was fake. Della’s paranoia may be annoying, but it also means she’s predictable. She’d never stray from our established methods and entrust someone she’d just met to deliver an incriminating letter to me. The only way for Alice to even know about the letters is if she’s been watching me.

Anger burns under my skin. I bet she was even listening outside the office door tonight. Since I’d surprised Della earlier, she didn’t have time to light the candle that usually keeps our voices from being overheard. I silently curse myself for the stupid mistake. I wasn’t behaving rationally.

Like right now?

I brush off the unhelpful thought, choosing instead to latch onto my anger. I tried to help Alice… I was sorry for her circumstances, for what was done to her. But it doesn’t matter. Without her betrayal, I wouldn’t have any chance of finding the sword tonight, so I suppose she did me a favor. Perhaps it’s irresponsible to knowingly walk into a trap, but I’m past the point of caring.

Alice clearly hasn’t mastered the art of moving silently. I’ve heard her shuffling steps trailing me since we left MASQ. Although, technically, I’m not the one she’s following. Myeidolon…Rose…walks ahead of my invisible form. The name rankles, feeling awkward and uncomfortable, but Thorne was right. It does make me feel more connected to her. The problem is I’m not sure I want that.

I tuck my hair behind my ear for the tenth time tonight, scowling at the wind for constantly blowing the copper strands into my face. If I hadn’t been in such a hurry to sneak out of the palace earlier, I might have remembered to bring a ribbon to secure my braid. Instead, the thick waves hang freely down my back, eager to dance with the wind at a moment’s notice.

I constantly tell Alva and Morwen that I’m going to chop it all off, but I know I’ll never go through with it. Secretly, my hair is one of the few things I love about myself. When I was a child, Bellamy always told me it looked just like our mother’s.

A flash of red catches my eye, drawing my focus to a figure leaning against the wall of a building up ahead. As if they’ve noticed my attention, they dart into an alleyway, their blood-colored cloak billowing behind them. Wanting to get a closer peek, I hasten ahead of Rose and scurry after the mysterious figure.

My shoulder hugs the wall as I turn into the alley and scan the area for threats. The cloaked person has their back to me, pausing where the path extends behind the building. Warning senses tingle along my spine. No doubt there are more people around the corner, waiting to ambush me. I note the closed doors along the brick walls. I’d guess that once Rose reaches the curve in the alley, enemies will rush out of those doors. They’ll block the exit, leaving her trapped on both sides with her back against the wall.

I have to admit, it’s a good plan. Too bad I won’t be the one they have trapped.

Rose enters behind me and the cloaked figure turns their head at the sound of her footsteps, giving me a glimpse at the sharp chin that peeks out from the edges of the scarlet hood.

A second later, the figure disappears around the bend. Knowing it’s risky, I dart forward and tuck myself into the corner, so I have a view of both sides of the alley. Over a dozen mortals are crowded into the cramped space. Most of them hold crude weapons—rocks and bits of rusted pipe. Only a few carry actual blades, and from the looks of them, I doubt they know how to use them.

Like the old woman from the empty house, most of these people have seen better days. Pity sparks in the back of my mind as I scan their haggard faces, but it dries up immediately when I land on the man in the red cloak. The only familiar face in the bunch.

His name comes to me quickly. Taron. The one who sat with Lynal that night at the pub and encouraged him to threaten Calum. My lips curl in a sickening smile. I’m going to make his death hurt.

Rose reaches the curve, setting the rest of their plan into motion. Just as I predicted, more people rush out behind her, roughly doubling their numbers. Alice is among the newcomers and the crowd parts for her, telling me she’s in charge of this little group.

Interesting.

As she glances in Rose’s direction, something ugly and ancient flashes in her eyes. Something that wasn’t there when I visited her home. Alice Darby is a killer now. Brutal and unfeeling. Every trace of that sweet, overwhelmed young woman I met before has disappeared. An ugly thought occurs to me, sparking a trace of fear in my gut.

Will I have to end her life?

I’m assaulted by images of the frightened little girl who stood on the staircase that morning. Will I be the reason her mother never comes home? I’ve killed parents before, but this time it wouldn’t be the collar forcing my hand. It would be my choice. Sweat dampens my palms, making my blades slippery. I grip them tighter, forcing myself to focus.

“All these people just to capture little old me?” Rose says, following my command. I need to gain control of this situation before I let my emotions ruin everything. “I must admit I’m flattered.”

“Perhaps we overestimated your skill,” Alice replies in a patronizing tone. “You did fall for a rather obvious trap.”

Rose shrugs. “I guess I trusted the wrong person. Kind of like you.”

I position myself slightly behind Rose, using her as a shield in case any of these idiots decide to take matters into their own hands and toss one of their rocks at me. Though they’d be trying to hit Rose, I don’t trust their aim.

Alice laughs. “You still think you know me?” She shakes her head, giving Rose a pitying glance. “You think you understand me,pet, but you don’t. Onlyheunderstands. Onlyheknows what’s truly in our hearts.”

“Are you talking about your husband? Cause last I heard, he was a deadbeat.”

I need to keep her talking. If I give in too easily, they’ll be suspicious. Rose has to stall until they attack. Then I’ll follow behind as they lead her away, hopefully to wherever the sword is hidden. The plan has plenty of risks, but as long as I find the sword I don’t care what else happens.

She laughs again. “You really don’t know anything, do you? Just like the otherrats.”

My mind zeros in on the word, the same one the old woman used. I rack my brain, trying to remember anything else she said that day.

“Now, now,” a new voice cuts in. “No need for name calling.”

A soft breeze tickles my cheek as a body drops from the rooftop and lands right next to me. Griffen appears perfectly comfortable as he steps forward, positioning himself shoulder to shoulder with Rose.

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