in the busy camp. Like Halla said, it’s near the center, but a good distance away from the obvious tent of Lord Aron.
Getting there? It’s doable.
I lower the spyglass and turn to the queen and Kerren. “That’s got to be it.” Markos enters the room with a tray of food just as I speak, and I wave him over. “We need to act.”
“Shall we share the news with Lord Aron, my lady Faith?” Kerren asks, a hint of a frown on his face.
“Or send an assassin?” Markos adds, coming to my side.
I shake my head, because I know what has to happen.
They won’t check your pockets, you know.
“It’s the encampment for Aron of the Cleaver,” I say to them, “But it’s also the encampment for Hedonism Aron. There’s a lot of women there. Whores. I can go. I’ll wear something slutty and I don’t know, flash my tits if anyone asks questions.”
“Everyone’s risking themselves,” I say, gesturing at the battle. “Except I can stop all of this. If we can get to that tent, get to his anchor before he gets to me, we can win. No more pointless killing. No more scratching and scraping to gain a foot on the battlefield at the cost of a hundred lives a day. The right Aron will win and this will all be over.” The more I talk, the more right this feels. “The wizards have Godsfire, right? I can take a vial with me, hide it in a pocket, and pretend I’m there for some booty action. I get in, I use the Godsfire, boom. Problem solved.”
“How will you get there?” the queen asks.
“They haven’t finished bricking the wall over the secret passage that leads to the crypts,” I point out. “I can go that way and then enter their camp after it’s dark.”
Halla arches a brow. “And how do you plan on leaving the camp once you have done this?”
“Does it matter at that point?” I ask. “I’ll figure something out. If we cut off the head of the snake, the rest will follow.”
“Aron won’t allow this,” Markos says with a shake of his head. “He’s far too protective of you.”
“Which is why we have to do this now,” I say. “Before he returns tonight and finds out that Solat’s dead.” My voice wobbles a little, but I put my spyglass away and head for the door. I’ll be sad about Solat later, when all this is over. “We have to do this now because if the other Aron finds out that we know where his anchor is, he’ll move him. Her. Whoever. And we can’t keep hiding everything from Aron. He’s going to find out about the assassin they sent, and Solat’s death, and then all hell will break loose.”
“But to go in alone?” Halla frets.
“Not alone,” Markos says, and Kerren nods.
“No, guys,” I begin. I don’t want anyone else dying because of me.
Markos shakes his head. “You go with us or not at all.”
I look at their determined faces. “If we’re doing this…then let’s do it before I think about it too hard and freak out.” I nod at them. “I’ll get changed.”
“I’ll meet you in my study with the wizards,” Halla says. “And with the Godsfire.”
A short time later, Markos, Kerren and I emerge from the far side of the crypt and into the graveyard. Markos and Kerren both wear Adassian cloaks over their armor and I’m dressed like a camp ho. We took one of my low-cut, Novoran gowns and threw a corset over it, which practically shoves my tits in the world’s face. The skirt is cut all the way up to my thighs, and the queen assures me that I look sufficiently tartish.
I guess I’m going out of this world like I came into it—called a tart. Heh.
I know I’m not making it back out alive. I know I’m not returning to this castle. I know I’m never going to see my handsome, arrogant, wonderful Aron ever again. I want to grieve for it, but there’s no time. I’ve known this all along somewhere deep inside, and I think the Spidae were trying to prepare me for this.
I’m here to meet my destiny.
“Be safe,” Halla told me as she gave me the vial of Godsfire. I tucked it into a pocket in my cloak and pulled the fabric tight around me.
We make it out of the crypt without seeing another soul, replace the doors,