C. Redwine - Deception

“Where is the device now?” Clarissa asks.

I don’t glance at Willow as I say, “I have it.” This is really not the way I’d hoped to reveal the key to leveraging an alliance with Lankenshire. “Rachel retrieved it from Quinn and Willow, who were keeping it safe after Jared was killed.”

“Why not tell us?” Frankie sounds puzzled, but not yet upset. “We all knew about the device. We all knew Rowansmark wanted it back, and most of us agreed with you that we couldn’t return it without jeopardizing the rest of the city-states. Why not just tell us the truth?”

“I only learned it an hour ago. I’d planned to tell each of you.” My voice sounds thick and unsteady. I clear my throat and say, “I wanted to speak with you individually and give you time to get used to the idea.”

Willow snorts. “Get used to what? You’re Logan. Who cares where you were born?”

“His father does.” Rachel’s voice is calm, though her eyes burn into mine, and I can see that she understands my past has ripped her loved ones from her, one terrible loss at a time.

I straighten my shoulders like that will somehow help me bear the pain of their response, and say, “Yes, I think he does. I think . . . we think”—I gesture toward Darius—“that Marcus is in trouble with James Rowan and has to return the device to restore his honor. We also think that because I took the tech back to Baalboden, Marcus might assume I’m loyal to the Commander instead of to him, and that makes me as guilty as the Commander under Rowansmark’s laws.”

I can’t decide where to look. At Rachel, whose best friend paid for my father’s vendetta with her life? At Frankie, who lost his closest friend as well? At Adam, who lost his entire family in the fires that I now suspect were caused by trackers overriding our device and controlling the Cursed One?

How can I look at any of them when my choices have cost all of us so much? It’s cowardly of me, but I can’t stand to see their faith in me die. Instead, I stare straight into Clarissa’s brown eyes.

“As a senior member of the military council, Marcus has the power to use trackers for his own benefit. I believe he sent a tracker after the device. We saw signs of a tracker in the Wasteland after eight of our guards were murdered one night. I also believe that the tracker was tasked with punishing me for keeping the stolen tech.”

“Pain atonement.” Rachel breathes the words like they hurt.

“Yes.” I clench my fists.

“He killed our boys. Poisoned our people. Poisoned Thom ,” Frankie says.

“Yes. And he clearly has someone within our camp working with him,” I say. “Though I can’t figure out why someone from Baalboden would be sympathetic to Rowansmark.”

When no one speaks, I say, “I’m sorry. I know it’s not nearly enough, but I’m sorry. We lost our city, our families, and our friends. We’ve been terrorized as we traveled across the Wasteland. And all of it is because of me.” My voice breaks. “I’m so sorry.”

Clarissa opens her mouth to speak, but Willow beats her to it.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go taking all the credit on this one, Logan.”

“But all of it is because I didn’t return the device.”

“Why didn’t you?” Clarissa asks, and there’s something sharp in her tone that demands the absolute truth.

“Two reasons. First, because the Commander is a brutal, cruel man who abuses his power. His people have paid the price of his actions with their lives for too long. I wanted to use the device to finish him.”

“And the second reason?”

I speak with more conviction than I have since the moment they entered the room. “Because no city-state should have the ability to obliterate the other city-states. I wanted to show you and the rest of the northern city-states what Rowansmark could do, so that you’d be prepared. And then I wanted to offer you a replica of the device so that if Rowansmark ever attacked you, you could turn the tables and remain safe.”

She holds herself very still and then turns to look at Portia and Maxwell. A look passes between them, fraught with meaning, and then she turns back to me. “Are you able to replicate this device?”

I take a deep breath and look her straight in the eye. “Yes. I need some specific supplies to complete the replica, but I understand the tech. Not only do I understand it, I can improve it. I can make a device with a more powerful signal than Rowansmark’s.”

Maxwell and Portia exchange a swift glance, but Clarissa doesn’t look away from me. Instead, she says, “You asked for our hospitality, for our help, and we gave it to you freely. You neglected to tell us you’d brought a killer inside of our walls. Especially one intent on killing people associated with you.”

“He should go.” Portia speaks for the first time, her voice soft but unyielding. She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose and says, “If we cast him out, the killer will have to follow.”

“You aren’t throwing Logan out into the Wasteland.” Adam steps to my side.

“If we decide—”

“Forget what you decide. He’s one of ours. If he leaves, we all leave.” Frankie moves between me and the members of the triumvirate.

My throat closes as Quinn hauls himself out of bed on shaky legs and stands beside Frankie to form a wall between me and those who want to cast me out.

“But he brought this on you,” Portia says. “He brought death and destruction. We can’t afford to risk the same.” There’s an undercurrent of fear in her voice. Willow casts a quick glance my way, and I give a slight nod. We aren’t just talking about the risk of one tracker whose sole focus is on me. Whatever Portia fears, she thinks our problems will make the problems already existing inside Lankenshire worse.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Rachel says, and the fierce conviction in her voice warms me like nothing else. “It wasn’t Logan’s decision to steal from Rowansmark. That was the Commander. And if you think returning the device to Rowansmark and just hoping that they never decide to use it is a good move, then you’re too shortsighted to be leaders.”

Portia’s mouth snaps shut, and she looks at Clarissa.

“You’re acting like Logan killed our people. He didn’t. Some sick freak of a tracker did that for reasons that make sense to no one but him and Logan’s father,” Adam says, and places a hand on my shoulder. “Logan has fought for us. Guarded us. Rescued us time and again.”

There’s an ache in my chest that is slowly spreading. I thought once the others understood how much my past and my choices had cost them, that they’d be angry with me. Unable to look me in the eye. Instead, they’re standing by me in a united front. I’ve badly underestimated my people.

My friends.

“We have the safety of our own people to think of.” Maxwell looks over his shoulder as if expecting a killer to walk through the door at any moment.

“Maybe if we put him in the dungeon it will satisfy the tracker and keep him from killing again,” Portia says.

Frankie’s shoulders bunch as he raises his fists. Willow whips an arrow out of her quiver and aims it at Portia.

“Take one step toward Logan, and you get to be the first one to die,” she says.

Clarissa raises her hand in a placating gesture. “There will be no violence.” She locks eyes with Willow for a long moment. It’s clear that she expects Willow to cave and lower her bow.

It’s equally clear that Willow is prepared to outstare her for as long as it takes.

Clarissa finally lowers her hand and says, “Portia, I thank you for your suggestion, but I’d like to offer an additional opinion on the matter if I may.”