The Ophelia Prophecy (26 page)

“She’s putting all of you at risk,” Asha broke in at the end of Cleo’s explanation. “With everything you’ve accomplished—with your growing support—why shed blood now?”

“You know the amir,” Micah said to the priestess, “and I trust that you know how to get to him. But murdering his son … framing this woman for it…” He shook his head. “Are we really that desperate at this stage, my lady?”

“This is personal,” said Asha before the priestess could reply. “She’s using her office to settle an old score.”

“How dare you!” snapped Cleo, livid.

“I mean no disrespect to you, my lady,” began Micah in a reasonable tone, “but it wouldn’t be surprising if your history with this family had influenced you in choosing this course. I don’t know what happened between you and Paxton, but I understand his behavior toward you has been insulting.”

Pax let out a bark of laughter and shot Cleo a look of disgust.

“She tried to use him against his father,” said Asha. “But even without the personal history, it seems like Rebelión Sagrada would be better served by separating religious and political interests.”

It was the only way she could think of to cut at Cleo’s authority, but she cringed as the priestess’s gaze burned through her. Clearly she had redirected her murderous urges.

“What makes you say so?” asked Micah.

She hesitated, intimidated by the silence that gathered in the wake of his question. She took a deep breath, opening herself to the flow of knowledge she’d accumulated over the last six years—all her work with the Manti, as well as all she’d learned from her father.

You can do this
.

“I understand about your beliefs,” she began carefully. “But giving a spiritual leader absolute authority over Rebelión’s strategy for challenging the amir—does that make sense?”

“She’s right,” said her father. “You’ll accomplish more with leadership that puts your philosophical beliefs and political objectives first.”

“Without letting passions or personal grudges get in the way,” added Asha.

“That’s enough,” Cleo replied tersely. “I won’t listen to more of this. These people know nothing of us.” She’d backed off the sharp tone, becoming more passive in her attempt to shift Micah back to her side.

“We’re not bound to act in any way based on what they say,” replied Micah. “Where is the danger in hearing them out? They are our allies.”

Asha could tell from Cleo’s expression that she saw all sorts of danger he did not, but she held her tongue.

Micah returned his attention to her father. “What sort of leadership would you propose?”

The disciples stood tense and confused, not understanding why or how the ground was shifting. One wrong word could lead to disaster.

Before her father could answer Asha said, “It should be you.”

Micah raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Together with my father, as an ally and representative from Al Campo. Look at what the two of you have already accomplished.”

The men she’d named exchanged glances.

She knew her proposal failed to address the more immediate problem, and Micah was quick to point it out.

“Unfortunately the question of leadership becomes a moot point if we’re exposed. As much as I’m disturbed by the idea of killing a man in cold blood, releasing the amir’s son will risk us all.”

At the end of this assessment his gaze shifted to Cleo, and Asha thought she read mild accusation in his eyes. For the first time since she’d met the priestess, she saw Cleo hesitating.

“If you do what Asha and her father have proposed,” said Pax, “I won’t expose you. I’ll help you.”

Silence followed the prince’s interruption, silence so choked with tension and calculation it was hard to breathe.

“Let him go,” Micah ordered the disciples holding Pax. “He’s not going to run out of here after risking so much to find this woman.”

“He’s lying,” protested Cleo. “He’ll go directly to his father.”

“No,” Asha countered. “Not if he said he won’t.”

Cleo gave an incredulous laugh. “You’ve been his plaything for what, two days? You have no place in this conversation.”

Anger shot heat into Asha’s cheeks. Before she could reply, Micah said, “Please, my lady.”

The disciples had released Pax, and he straightened to his full height, his gaze locked with Micah’s.

“I washed my hands of dealings with your priestess long ago,” he said. “But there is common ground between us. And I have no desire to see you all killed. It would destabilize everything my father’s built. But of course I don’t expect you to trust me.”

“Then we have a stalemate,” observed Micah.

Pax shook his head. “Cleo is right—there was no attack on your temple, nor any plan for one. You can safely return there. I’ll go with you. Even if I were to go back on my word and tell my father, my presence there would shield you from retaliation.”

“You’re volunteering to be a hostage?” asked Asha’s father. His eyes settled on her, and she knew he was remembering what he’d said about the chess match. He thought this was all for her. But she knew better.

“Because he sees an opportunity to address these differences without violence,” she said, more to Micah than her father. It was clear enough that the power that had melted from Cleo during the exchange had been absorbed by him.

“It’s true,” agreed Pax. “I do want that, and I’ve never been able to make my father listen to me. This could change that.”

“He’s trying to save his own skin,” Cleo said tightly.

Pax laughed. “Of course I am. What would any of you do in my place? I also don’t want to see this woman hurt, or her father. But that doesn’t make anything else I’ve told you less true.”

Asha burned inside—with gratitude for what he was doing, with a strange pride in the part he was playing, and with shame that she had ever thought of betraying him.

“If you’re requiring us to dismiss the priestess—”

“I’m not,” said Pax. “I won’t work on political strategy with a woman who tried to assassinate me, but how you worship has nothing to do with our agreement.”

“This is unacceptable,” said Cleo. She fixed her eyes on Micah, and the fact that she did confirmed that she and everyone else now knew who was in control of this negotiation. “I’ll not be relegated to a ceremonial role.”

Asha knew that Cleo would not allow herself to be diminished in
any
way had she not found herself in such a sticky trap. Pax could expose them if they let him go. If she insisted on his murder, Micah might abandon or even expose them himself. Killing them both was a possible solution, but then she’d also have to kill Asha and her father at the least, and the changing temperature in the room suggested she might not have the level of commitment she needed for such a high body count.

After a few moments’ consideration, Micah said to Pax, “Many of our followers are deeply spiritual. Their views and wishes should be represented. The priestess must have a voice.”

Now Pax considered, and it was all she could do not to shout, “Take it!” But he was right to make them wait. Every second of silence solidified his shift to a position of power among his former enemies.

“As long as there’s no more aggression against me or my family,” he said finally.

“Agreed,” said Micah. “For the duration of this arrangement.”

Asha held her breath, exchanging a tense glance with her father, as the two Manti shook hands.

“I think we should return to the temple immediately,” said Pax. “Waiting until tomorrow night risks discovery. And if I don’t check in with my father soon the temple is the first place he’s going to look.”

Smart, Pax
. It was good to remind them regularly that it was in their best interests to protect him.

“We can’t move everyone before dawn,” said Micah. “But yes, the priestess and her attendants need to return.” He glanced at Asha. “I assume you’ll want to remain here with your father?”

She was being given a choice?

“I think it’s best,” Pax said in a low voice, fixing his eyes on her. “It’s a long walk back.”

She realized he was alluding to her injuries, but trying to spare either her privacy or her father. Maybe both. And not only that, he was letting her
go
. Or … dismissing her. His expression was neutral and it was hard to be sure.

“Ash,” began her father, moving closer. “I hate saying this, but I think you should go back with him.” He glanced at Paxton. “She hasn’t been processed. The lab doesn’t know she’s here. I’d like it to stay that way.”

“You’ve somehow protected this area from the flies, though, isn’t that right?” asked Pax.

Asha couldn’t help smiling at her father’s sudden guilty look.

“Yes, that’s true. But there are more of these new arrivals.” He nodded toward Beck’s broken body. “If she’s living here unprocessed and outside surveillance there’s nothing to stop someone else threatening her.”

While Pax was chewing on this, she made her decision. “I’ll go back to the temple. For now.” She had to talk to Pax. Explain to him what she’d done, and tell him the truth about what she was. The truth was all he’d ever asked of her, and he had more than earned that.

She also wanted to avoid her father seeing what had been done to her—she knew he would blame himself. She could come back when she had healed.

Her father’s emotions were written on his face—relief, sadness, guilt that she’d been drawn into all this. Pax was another story. He acknowledged her decision with a nod, and she ached for … for what, she wasn’t sure. Something more. A reaction of some kind, so she’d know what she was facing with him.

DAMAGE

As Asha crawled through the opening in the wall, the top of the cutting grazed her lower back. The pain was enough to force a groan through her lips.

Pax bent and reached for her hand, raising her to her feet. “Are you sure about this?” he murmured.

“Yes,” she breathed, wiping moisture from above her lip. She looked up at him. “I need to talk to you.”

He regarded her silently. “That can wait.”

Micah came through the opening behind them, and they made room for him. “Are you all right?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I am.”

Micah’s gaze sought Cleo, who had already started toward the opposite hill with her mate and attendants.

“Was it her?”

“No,” she assured him.
Not that I’d put it past her
.

Micah glanced at Pax, his eyes moving from the prince’s face down along his arm to the hand that held Asha’s. She realized that she had gripped his fingers so hard her hand shook, and she released them. A drop of perspiration slipped between her shoulder blades and down her back. She winced as it seeped into her wound.

“Can I do anything to help you?” asked Micah.

“Would you answer a question?”

“Of course.”

“We should get moving,” said Pax, stepping away from the fence. Away from
her
.

As she moved to follow, Micah offered his arm.

“Thank you. I’ll be okay.”

They drew their cloaks close around them and started back toward the city.

“What did you want to ask me?” said Micah.

“What brought you to Al Campo? I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“Yes, I know. But after we split up I started to wonder more about what Cleo was up to with Paxton, and how you might get drawn into it. When I got back to the lab I pinged your father, just to make sure you’d arrived there okay. He didn’t answer and I decided to check for myself.”

“I’m really glad you did.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. Can I ask what happened to you?”

She gave him a thin smile. “I seem to have a talent for making enemies of dangerous people. It’s a long story. But I’m grateful for your help with Cleo.”

“I don’t really think you needed my help. Do you have any idea what you just negotiated?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t me so much as Pax. Why would anyone here care what I think?”

Micah laughed. “That’s not the way I’d tell the story. He jumped on the cart right as you drove it over her.” Asha smiled, self-conscious, but he sobered quickly. “I’m not sure I’ve done the right thing. There’s going to be fallout with Cleo. I don’t know that I’m really qualified for this.”

“Less qualified than her?”

“She’s been dealing with the Paxtons for more than two decades. But murdering the prince would have propelled us into war. And pinning it on
you
 … I hope I never grow so hard that a maneuver like that seems justifiable.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine that you could.”

Asha watched Pax, who walked a couple meters ahead of them. She was sure he could hear their conversation, but she wondered if he was actually listening. More likely he was preoccupied with his decision, and all that had happened in Al Campo. Guilt continued to gnaw at her for the part she’d played, delivering him right into Cleo’s hands, whether or not it had been her intention.

“Do you mind if I ask you something else?” asked Micah.

“Go ahead.”

“There’s something about that man who was with Paxton—the man who stayed behind with your father. I don’t think he’s Manti. Do you know if he’s human?”

“Carrick. No, he’s transgenic.” She tried to think whether she was betraying anyone’s confidence by explaining about the priest. But Carrick was safe in Al Campo. The amir’s forces weren’t likely to look for him there, and though it was easy enough to sense there was something different about him, the humans in Al Campo wouldn’t guess the truth.

“Manti?” asked Micah.

“Wolf.”

His eyes widened. “Interesting. Are there more of him?”

“I don’t know. Not in the group Pax picked up.”

“And he’s a holy man?”

“I believe so, but I don’t know much of his story. I think he’s a good man. And very alone now.”

Pax glanced over his shoulder at this, but he said nothing. She wondered how he’d convinced Iris to part with Carrick.

As they reached the southern border of Al Campo, Pax stopped and waited for them. “We’ll cross open ground now. We need to keep close and quiet.” He looked at Asha.