Page 52 of Veiled Fate
“Idiot,” I muttered, taking great pleasure in seeing the dissatisfied color of Lycaonus’ face at the tepid response. “What did you expect?”
For centuries the Alphas had brutally suppressed any mention of the rebellion. “Disappearing” anyone and everyone who even so much as whispered about it. Now, he expected his subjects to cheer and go wild about the extermination of something they had learned about five minutes earlier?
“But wait, there’s more,” Lycaonus continued.
“Of course there is,” I muttered.
“In the wake of the brutal and unwarranted assassination of Arcadus—”
“Didn’t he just say they were targeting the children?” someone said from next to me.
“—and so,” Lycaonus was still saying, “it gives me great pleasure to tell you that we have located some of the masterminds of that deadly attack.”
My head came up sharply, and I locked eyes with Kiel, both of us preparing to run. Could this entire thing have been a setup to draw us out into the open?
“Here they are, the criminals responsible!” Lycaonus crowed, pointing as a movement in the front of the square pushed the crowd back.
A platform was brought in and swiftly assembled in front of the monument. It was a simple thing with stairs on both sides, designed to elevate anyone who stood on it above the crowd. The only unusual thing about it was the twelve sets of stocks built into it. The arm and head holes all seemed to be carved from one long piece of wood.
“Unbelievable,” Kiel growled. “He’s just going to trot out twelve randoms and blame it all on them?”
“Sure seems that way,” I said, my tension only slightly easing.
The twelve shifters were marched up onto the platform, plain brown hoods hiding their faces. For a moment, I thought that Lycaonus would order them put in the stocks without showing their faces.
“Look upon those who would seek to destroy the world you live in,” the Alpha said to the crowd, gesturing for his men to remove the hoods.
The first shifter was unmasked. A male with tanned skin, his hair disheveled, and his beard unkempt.
“Do you recognize him?” I asked Kiel from the corner of my mouth.
“No.”
“Same.”
It went on down the line. A bunch of randoms.
When the sixth hood came off, however, Kiel stiffened beside me. I frowned, staring at the man, a tall fellow with black hair and a ragged beard, much the same as his fellows.
“What is it?” I asked.
Kiel leaned over to me, speaking so low I had to concentrate on hearing over the dull mutterings of the crowd.
“I know him,” he said. “That man was a crewmember of the ship. The one we escaped from Helisson on.”
I drew in a sharp breath. “Praksis’ friend?”
Kiel nodded slowly. I wanted to doubt him, but two more shifters down the line, I realized I recognized one of the crew.
“Survivors,” I whispered. “But how? The ship burned.”
“One of the other warships must have been close enough to help.” Kiel shrugged.
“None of them were with us before, though,” I said. “They don’t know the way to the cave complex. They couldn’t. So, how—”
The last shifter was unmasked, his reveal stealing my words and filling me with a horrible sinking sensation. That was how Lycaonus knew. It wasn’t a lie, after all.
“We have to get word to the caves,” Kiel said, his voice taut. “Before the soldiers arrive.”
