Page 81 of To Tempt a Rebel (The Scarlet Chronicle 4)

Nineteen

This was her thirdtry, and if she didn’t reach the receptacle this time, it wouldn’t matter if she did so later. She’d wasted far too much time and all but broken her neck on the last fall. She had to hurry.

Alexandra found the now-familiar handholds again and levered herself up. This was the point at which she’d lost her footing the previous time, so she was careful to find a wide brick. She’d rubbed her hands with dirt to keep them dry. Now as she moved upward, she let out a slow breath of relief that she held on. Just another couple of feet and she would grab the receptacle. She could rest a moment and then begin the climb up the drainpipe.

She was hungry, thirsty, and exhausted, but she put it all out of her mind. She could rest later, eat and drink later. The king was all that mattered.

She inched up, grasping at a small handhold and searching for another just as quickly. Her hand slipped, but fortunately, she caught a jutting brick and held on. Heart pounding, she reached for the receptacle. Her feet dangled for just a moment and then she had it and climbed on top.

Alex caught her breath and shook her arms to ease the burn. She wrapped both hands around the drainpipe and pulled on it, testing its strength. It was solid and did not pull away from the stone.

“Here we go.”

She began to inch up the pipe as one might a rope, arms pulling with all her strength, followed by knees. This action was familiar to her, and she felt more comfortable. Of course, the Temple was much higher than any tree she’d climbed. She had to pause halfway to the top of the Temple and rest, though it was not much of a rest when she was using every muscle she could to hold on to the drain pipe.

Tears sprang to her eyes as she fought the pain and exhaustion. She could not give up. If she failed, the mission failed. She would not have the king’s death on her conscience. Alex began to climb again, gritting her teeth and closing her eyes against the sting of tears and sweat burning her eyes.

Pull. Slide. Pull. Slide.

She concentrated on the rhythm, ignoring everything else.

Pull. Slide. Pu—

Her hand slid back down the drainpipe, and she fought to prevent her body from sliding down as well. She clenched the pipe tightly with her knees, then pulled her hand back to wipe away the slick wetness on her coat. The scent of blood was tangy in her nostrils. The skin of her palms had split and the blood mixed with the dirt she’d used to keep her flesh dry. She replaced the bloody palm and began to climb again. But this time the other slipped and she lost her grip, arching back into the cool air of the night.

Alex made the mistake of looking down. It was a long, long fall.

***

“VERY WELL,” TRISTANsaid, turning away from the captain of the guard. The man had made his decision, and Tristan could not force his way in. There were a dozen guards around him. He would lose.

But one thing was clear. The captain of the guard had not yet been told that Tristan was a traitor. Perhaps Robespierre wasn’t yet certain of that. But if the guard had been told of the republic’s suspicions, he would have tried to keep Tristan there rather than send him away.

“I shall fetch Robespierre and return as soon as possible,” Tristan said as he walked away, speaking loudly enough for his voice to carry back to the captain. “He will not be pleased to be taken away from his dinner, but when I explain his written orders are no longer good enough—”

Tristan could hear the murmur of voices behind him. The men clearly did not relish a meeting with Robespierre. Tristan could hardly fault them. When Robespierre was present, heads tended to roll.

“Citoyen,” the captain called.

Tristan stopped.

“I did not say Citoyen Robespierre’s orders were not sufficient. I merely said that Citoyen Simon does not allow the boy visitors without his presence.”

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