The Pledge (21 page)

Then all around us, people began to fall to their knees, and I wondered what was being said that made them suddenly too feeble to stand.

The other giant of a man, Zafir, smirked.
“How long did you think you could remain hidden?”
he asked Max, his voice nearly as thunderous as Claude’s.

Max looked down at me, his expression serious now. He reached out a hand and I took it, letting him help me to my feet. “Long enough,” he answered, this time in Englaise.

I frowned at Max, wondering why they were all acting so strangely. Why he wasn’t being arrested. Why they were standing there, chatting, while everyone around us was suddenly unable to remain on their feet.

And then, from right beside me, the man and his family knelt down, and I heard the man utter as he dropped to the ground, bowing low, “Your Highness.”

It took far too long for those two simple words to register. And even when they did, I couldn’t imagine who he could possibly be speaking to.

But as soon as they were out there, Max turned to watch me, scrutinizing me. Awaiting my response.

And it came. Far too slowly, but it came nonetheless.

The secret language. The fact that Max seemed to come
and go as he pleased despite being a member of the military. The mention of the queen.

Everyone in the tunnel being ordered to their knees, forced to bow low out of respect.

Not to Claude or Zafir, or to any of the men in uniform.

But to Max.

They were bowing down to Prince Maxmillian, grandson to Queen Sabara.

His Royal Highness.

I turned around in a circle, gravel crunching beneath my feet as I stared at the people on the ground. Angelina stood beside me, watching me, watching everything.

Silence filled the underground caverns; hush echoed off the walls. Not even the soldiers made a sound.

My tongue felt thick in my mouth, as if it might choke me should I attempt to swallow. Or speak. The air in my lungs felt too warm and arid as I stole shallow breaths to sustain myself.

Time seemed to stand still.

I blinked once, my eyes feeling gritty. I frowned at Max, pleading at him with that stare to tell me that I was wrong, that they were all wrong, that he was no one . . . just a young man who’d deserted his post.

I’m sorry,
he mouthed, no sound escaping his lips . . . lips that had just touched my own. Lips that had lied and betrayed me.

Max was royalty. That was who he was. That was why I’d never heard his language before. It was the language of the Royals . . . a language very few would ever have the occasion to hear.

Especially a simple merchant girl.

I reached for my sister’s hand and pulled her down with me as we, too, dropped to our knees. We couldn’t afford to draw any more attention to ourselves than we already had. We couldn’t afford to appear disloyal.

I wondered how I hadn’t seen it before, how I hadn’t recognized him for who he was. But how would I have? He was a prince—a male. There were no monuments constructed in his honor, no flags or monies depicting his likeness. And I had no particular interest in the royal lineage. There was no reason for me to recognize his face.

In a rush, the sounds around me were back, as if they had never been absent in the first place.

Claude reached for my arm, gripping it too tightly as he hauled me up to my feet once more and began dragging me toward the entrance.

I jerked away from him, suddenly furious. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m staying right here.”

He didn’t touch me again, but he towered over me, glaring, intimidating. When he spoke, he didn’t address me, but rather turned to Max.
“We need to find out what she knows.”

Angelina clutched my hand, and I wondered if she’d somehow understood the meaning of his actions, if she’d sensed the tension in his voice.

I wondered what he meant exactly by
“what she knows”
? Was it possible that Max had confided his suspicions in Claude?

I lifted my chin, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how hard my heart beat or how cold my blood ran.

Fortunately, at least in that single moment, Max’s was the
only answer that mattered, and he shook his head.
“She stays here with her sister,”
he stated in a voice that was unyielding—and regal. And I couldn’t believe I hadn’t picked up on that before.

I narrowed my eyes, refusing to look at any of them as they departed, Max leading the way and never looking back.

I simply remained quiet, ignoring the conflicting emotions that warred within me, refusing to entertain the thousand questions that swirled in my head. I concentrated instead on keeping Angelina tucked safely at my side.

PART II

xii

I don’t know how long I stood there, or how long the people around me planned to remain on their knees, but for far too much time none of us moved. This time when I heard the sound of footsteps, they came from an entirely different direction and carried with them none of the thunder that Max’s army had.

All I knew for certain was that when I looked up to see who approached, I saw the last person I’d expected staring back at me.

Xander. And he stood before a motley group of men and women who remained behind him, hidden within the darkness the underground passageways provided.

Whatever I’d felt about Xander before was now overshadowed by Max’s deceit. I wasn’t sure I felt anything at all for the moment, save a dull glimmer of relief.

We were no longer alone, my sister and I.

They’d come not from the entrance, but from the rear of the tunnels, from the deserted channels that had once been
traveled by trains that ran beneath the city. Xander strode forward with quiet confidence to where we waited, his own army small in contrast to the one that had just vacated the tunnels. Angelina huddled against me, squeezing my leg.

“What are you doing here? How did you find us?” I asked when Xander was almost upon us.

But he just lifted his finger to his lips, silencing my questions. “Just come with me.” There was no other explanation. He held out a hand, and I had to make a decision. It wasn’t a difficult one, though. I didn’t want to stay where we were, surrounded by all those people who’d just witnessed what had happened with Max. I couldn’t bear to see the questions in their eyes.

When I stepped forward to take his hand, I felt Sydney at my back and realized she had no intention of being left behind, and we followed Xander as he drew us into the passageways that cut a path through the blackness.

I had no idea
where
we were, but it was magnificent. Breathtaking.

It was more like an underground city than a tunnel by the time we’d finally reached our destination. People—Outcasts, I assumed—moved freely around us, their lanterns creating near-daylight conditions even in the middle of the night.

Like the clubs, color filled nearly every space, but here the colors came in the form of carpets, mismatched clothing, and blankets that were strung everywhere, creating barriers that were used in place of more permanent walls and doors, a
means of privacy amid the confusion. I smelled rich spices and tobacco, and smoke and food, as well as the moist earth that surrounded us. The acoustical sounds of stringed instruments melded together with shouts of laughter and crying babies.

A small boy scooted past us, squeezing between Sydney and me as he ran from an older child—girl or boy, I couldn’t be certain, the chin-length curls could have gone either way. I watched as mothers rocked their babies while toddlers played at their feet, and as men gathered to play games of chance. There was the familiar bustle of commerce and steady chatter. It was a little like standing in the middle of the crowded marketplace, save the absence of a blue sky overhead.

The activity was ceaseless. And the only language I heard spoken was Englaise.

I felt instantly at peace.

“What is this place?” I breathed, setting Angelina on the ground to walk beside me as I marveled at the chaos all around.

We stopped to see an older girl drawing lines in the dirt, while a group of children dressed in what I could only describe as patchwork clothing began dividing into teams, readying for a game. The girl’s fingers were coated with layers of grime, and her cheeks were pink with exertion as she concentrated on creating the large, perfectly shaped squares.

Xander smiled. “This is my home.”

A woman marched up to meet us—or rather, to greet Xander—and I realized that I’d seen her before; she was the bartender from Prey. Her blue hair was evident even in the unnatural glow of the gas lamps.

“Charlie, this is Eden.” Xander introduced the two of us, and
I nodded at her, trying to recall if I’d ever before seen eyes so black. I was sure there were no others like them in all the world.

I had the strangest feeling that the bartender—
Eden
—didn’t smile often. Her teeth were bared just a little too much as she attempted to appear hospitable.

Yet another reason the Outcasts didn’t live within the rules of normal society, I thought as I tried to smile back at her.

Angelina stayed close, as always, and Sydney was practically on top of me.

Xander pulled us along, with Eden following right behind. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here.” Then he smiled kindly at Sydney when he said, “We’ll take you back home once the sirens have ceased.”

I stopped walking, my heart stock-still within my chest. “How do you know it’s not an attack on the city? How do you know that the sirens will just . . . stop?”

Xander’s grin had the same predatory quality I’d seen at the club. “Because we were responsible for the attack on the city. We made them go off.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. It didn’t make any sense. Almost less sense than a subterranean city. “Why? Why would you do that?”

He sighed. “Come with me, Charlaina. We need to talk.”

It wasn’t hard to convince Angelina to stay with Sydney in the room that had been prepared for us. From what I could tell, there were very few individual accommodations, so I was grateful that one had been set aside for us. It was dank and
smelled of cellar dirt, but at least there were suitable sleeping pallets.

I was still worried about Sydney’s injuries. She looked more and more like she might need medical attention, and I could only hope that some rest might do her good.

Before I left them alone, I pressed a gentle kiss against Angelina’s cheek. It was a chance to speak to her with no one overhearing. “Don’t do anything to help her, Angelina. I need you to keep your hands to yourself.” But when I pulled back, I could see worry in her eyes, and I knew she didn’t want me to go. “I’ll hurry back as fast as I can. I won’t be long,” I promised.

Angelina knew I spoke the truth. I could never lie to her, and she quieted down at last, silently agreeing to remain with the girl.

As I passed, I studied the armed woman who stood guard outside the small chamber’s entrance. She was more intimidating than any soldier I’d ever seen. Yet another extravagance afforded us by our host.