Page 54 of Swords of Soul and Shadow (Gate Chronicles #3)

Eravin looked little different than he had a few days prior. He still had that haunted look in his eyes, but Kase didn’t know if that was because of the last few days or the last few years. Both had been horrific, and in both cases, Kase had abandoned him.

It hadn’t been all his fault. He’d been so caught up in his own grief that when Eravin slammed the door physically and metaphorically in his face, he couldn’t find it in himself to try.

Now Kase knew why. It was Kase’s fault Eravin no longer had a mother, the only parent who had cared about him.

But could he trust Eravin now? The answer was probably no. Eravin had pointed a pistol at his head a few days ago.

But if his old friend was up for helping him escape this stupid tent, he should take advantage of the time outside. He might be able to do something about Jove, or at least go check on Stowe.

It was a gamble for sure, but it might be the best one he could make.

His decision made, he threw the cloak around his shoulders and tied the stays at his neck. It sat oddly atop the collar of his pilot’s jacket underneath.

“Take off that blasted jacket.”

“Not a chance.”

Eravin sighed, and it was the first time Kase glimpsed his old friend hidden underneath the layer of metaphorical grime. Eravin jabbed his thumb at the front of the tent. “That jacket is like a beacon to the entire galaxy that you’re the only pilot we have left.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t go, then.”

Eravin stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Well, well, didn’t realize you’d become quite the straight-lacer.

” Eravin half turned and looked back at Kase with a dash of his old mischief in his eyes, but only for a moment.

“Fine. Stay locked up. I’ll just have to blow my winnings on that sweetshop all by my lonesome. ”

Kase stared at him hard. At fancy dinners, they used to play cards with the other unfortunate children forced to attend with their parents.

After the dinner was over and the adults headed to the parlor for drinks, the children would lock themselves away in the front drawing room.

They never played with real money, but the joke was that if they were playing with real tenners, they’d use it to buy the sweetshop on the corner.

The real fun was when Kase, Ana, and Eravin found ways to hustle the others—Ana being a superb actress even at age eight.

He grumbled under his breath, but he loosened the cloak and shed his leather jacket. Eravin grinned as Kase put the cloak back on and pulled up the hood. “What if someone recognizes me out there?”

Eravin chuckled. “I mean, what else could they possibly do to you?”

Kase couldn’t help the snort that escaped. “I think that’s exactly what they’re trying to figure out.”

If the Cerls hadn’t invaded, he’d have been handed down a punishment harsher than house arrest, that was for sure.

Funny that the Cerl attack might be the thing that saved Kase from corporal punishment.

Not that he expected to survive the invasion.

It was only a matter of time before the Cerls discovered their hiding place.

In the stories of old, the royal family was the first to be executed, and while Kase didn’t have the title of prince, he was the son of the only surviving Jaydian leader and the supreme military commander.

It was why he’d known using himself as a trade for Hallie would result in an invitation to Fort Achilles when Hallie had been kidnapped.

Eravin stepped out of the tent. “Hurry now.”

His guards were nowhere to be seen. A few other people milled about, but none paid too much attention. Kase raised a brow. “Not a bullet to the head this time, or have you already moved the bodies?”

He tried to appear confident and nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the slight tremor in his voice on the last word.

All he could think about was the Cerl from the Jayde Center.

If the Cerl had truly destroyed the city as Eravin had said, he deserved the consequences for his choice, but a trial would’ve been more appropriate.

Eravin chuckled as he led Kase away from the tent prison.

He didn’t acknowledge Kase’s anxiety, for which he was grateful, but he wasn’t sure if it was purposeful or if it would come back to haunt him later.

Kase barely heard his answer over the swell as they entered the tunnel proper.

“Resorting to violence gets a little tiresome if it’s my only recourse. ”

“One World not paying you enough? Or are you having to assassinate people on the side?”

“Why? You in the market for an assassin?”

“No.”

Eravin sighed. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. Your little nanny guards were simply persuaded that they wanted a drink at one of the pop-up taverns someone’s got going.

They’ll probably get their comeuppance once the Stradat Lord Kapitan finds they’ve shirked their responsibilities for alcohol. ”

“So you paid them off?”

“I cannot reveal all my secrets, Shackley.”

They continued through the corridors and byways, past moss-choked crevices crawling up the walls like reaching hands and dozens of huddled groups, the oil lamps leaving a lingering metallic taste on the air.

Gas lanterns became more and more sporadic as the camps grew more and more desolate. Instead, small campfires began to take root, cloaking the smaller crypt-like caverns in a smell of thick smoke.

Not wise. But when Eravin led him around a crumbling hole in the floor, he looked up to see the night sky slipping through another crack in the ceiling above. It only made him feel moderately better about the situation.

A haunting song drifted from a tent they passed, a woman singing an old melody Kase remembered from his own childhood.

We come from the stars

Those who came here before

And we left all that is ours

In the wand’ring days of yore…

His mother used to sing it to him and Ana after the nanny had failed to put them to bed. Ana’s fear of the dark always brought her to Kase’s chamber sooner or later, and Kase’s mother would sing them both to sleep.

Eravin led Kase to an alcove where two men sat, a lantern set on a small ledge above them. The light cast soft shadows upon their faces—too familiar, if haggard, and in desperate need of sleep.

The first was Neville Thatcher. In school, the girls had swooned over his chiseled jaw and warm brown eyes.

They were no longer warm. The other was Waylan Peters, his light brown skin wan in the weak gaslamp light.

He smiled at Kase first. “When Eravin said you were back in town, I didn’t believe it, but I’d heard the rumors, of course.

” He stood and held out a hand for Kase to shake.

“Neville here just lost a bet that you wouldn’t show your face down here if you knew what was good for you. ”

Neville didn’t say anything.

Kase took Waylan’s outstretched hand and shook, but he felt a little awkward.

Other than the few dinners or other inane social engagements Kase had been forced to attend over the years, he hadn’t interacted with his old friends much.

He hadn’t tried, and they hadn’t reached out.

It had been a mutual thing, if unspoken.

Kase gave him a forced, small smile. “Good to see you again.”

Neville shuffled cards and dealt them out.

Eravin and Waylan took seats on the ground, Kase following suit.

He surveyed the tunnel alcove they’d found themselves in.

It reminded him a little of the dungeon he and Hallie had been imprisoned in at Achilles, but Hallie wasn’t there for him to kiss this time.

He looked down at the cards. “I don’t have any money to bet with. ”

He doubted they did either, judging by their states.

Waylan grinned again and tossed out weary and crinkled parchment scraps.

“We’ve been playing with these—and with secrets.

Loser has to spill.” He laughed a little.

“The poor bloke who challenged us not ten minutes before you showed up hightailed it out of here when he lost his round. My guess is he knew his wife would find out what he had to hide.”

Waylan distributed the parchment pieces, each torn in rough square shapes. One of Kase’s five looked more like a grotesque diamond. Tiny, printed words marred both sides. He caught the name Mondego . Another had Marseilles .

He barely stopped himself from wincing. They’d ripped up The Count of Monte Cristo for their game.

Eravin scooped his up. “Whether because of the game or he’s been spending too much time at the Houses, we’ll never know, but he had that look about him.”

Visiting the Houses was what lower-class men did when they realized that they would always be lower class no matter how many hours they put in at the forge, quarry, or shops.

It was a way to forget your life for a bit and spend the life savings that wouldn’t get you anywhere.

The last few years of school, it’d been a big thing to sneak down to one of them.

Kase had only gone once, just to see, but he hadn’t partaken in the… festivities.

Regardless, Jove had been the one to light into him about it, and Kase had felt guilty enough to never go again. As much as Jove drove him crazy, he did look up to his brother, and he’d felt properly ashamed after. It was a miracle that neither Harlan nor his mother ever found out.

He needed to find Jove.

Kase thumbed his nose and inspected the game. One game, then he’d figure out how to make his exit. He just needed to give Eravin the slip. Waylan took a swig of his flask and offered it to him. Kase shook his head. Waylan twisted the cap back on and set it beside him.

With the two cards dealt to each person, he guessed they were playing Hanged Man’s Nebula. He hadn’t played in years; he hadn’t had the time or money to lose. He tugged the hood up more, casting his face further into shadow, and checked his hand.

Decent. A star and an empress.