Three Broken Kingdoms-Book 1 of the Lost Continent (Completed)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Presumed Dead

Nala's Point of View

She could not hate the Chancellor for hiding her nephew's survival from her. But that didn't very well mean that she couldn't find everything she could out herself. So she'd gone to her spies and asked them for information on the other rebellion. If she could just find an operative then they might be able to contact the noble that had been working with them. The noble that Nala knew could find everything she wanted to know about her nephew, and what he had become in the four years that she had not seen him.

She knew it was a mistake. Of course she did. Rebellion above rebels was Tarua Teris' model, and she had to doled out punishments for anyone who had tried defy it. Yet here she was, defying the Chancellor's orders to find out more about her nephew. It was the textbook breach of the basic laws of her rebellion, and one of the reasons that the other one, the distraction rebellion, was failing so completely.

Regardless, she'd taken the intercepted letter between this unknown noble and the rebellion he or she worked for. Tracked the noble to her hotel room and found it empty.

She had scoured the place, and found it empty. She had been about to leave when she had caught sight of the rubbish bin, and hurriedly looked through it.

There was a letter there, addressed to Tyton Crimson. The noble was not a noble at all, but a royal prince.

------------------

Lysandra

In the room over from the one where she had left the letter with Tyton's name for her mother and her Crimsiths to find, Lysandra felt stupid. The knock had come from next door. Her mother had taken the bait, then. Either her mother, or the rebellion. Hopefully the former, but the latter wouldn't really be too bad. She hadn't lied to them yet, after all.

Another knocking, louder this time.

Burn it. They were smart enough to check the next room as well. Lysandra darted into a corner and used her magic to blend in with the shadows. She was suddenly glad that she had had the foresight to grab her dagger when the first knocking came. A hooded figure entered, and her breathing quickened. If they had weapons then they were concealed. She waited, letting them draw closer. Her instincts urged her to strike but she held back, waiting for the opportune moment.

There would only be one chance to stop this from ruining everything.

The figure took a step closer to her hiding place, and then another. With he or she only a few yards away, Lysandra was forced to keep her breathing softer. As they at last neared, she lunged, moving with experience and skill until her knife was at the stranger's throat and her heart was thundering.

"Take off the hood." She commanded. "What is your name?"

"I'm a rebel." The stranger protested. A woman's voice, then. That narrowed it down to over half-if you included valkyries-the people in the world, given Lysandra doubted her word.

"Take off the hood. Tell me your name." Reluctantly, the stranger obeyed, and she finally glimpsed her face. Her hair was brown, but her eyes were a strangely familiar glinting green.

"My name is Nala Merson, and that doesn't really matter because no one will believe you."

"If you're really a rebel, why didn't Lucifer tell me about you?"Lysandra hissed.

"Because I'm from another rebellion entirely."

"An easy lie. Let me guess: the rebellion against the rebellion? Why are you here?"

"I want to know about Captain Merson."

"Interesting. Don't want to know about supply trains?"

"Are you willing to give up that information?"

"Possibly. But why should I tell you about Merson, who's clearly a relative of yours?"

"Because if I don't get that information and if I don't come back to my rebellion, then the Empress will be told about you. And dear Tyton Crimson, who's clearly an associate of yours."

"I'll meet you here in two days."

"I very much hope so."

------------------

Well, this was an interesting development. She had always assumed the risk with her Plan was getting discovered by her mother, but it turned out the real trouble was getting caught up in the rebellion itself.

Somewhere. She'd heard the name Merson somewhere, but never with Nala in front of it. Sifting through her memories, Lysandra thought back to all the reports on the rebellion. What did Nala mean anyway, when she said that the world thought she was dead? Did the rebels have better resources than she had thought, if they could hide themselves so well? No. No, she didn't think that was the answer. Was it possible, then, with the scars Nala bore, that she had come so close to death they had reported her to have died?

Perhaps. But it hardly mattered anyway, because any rebellion was doomed, no matter if they were thought they were alive when they were dead, or dead when they thought they were alive.

Still, the name Merson tasted like a sliver of memory, familiar yet forgotten. She didn't remember it being in a report on a battle with the rebels, on a wanted poster or in one of those meetings about the rebellion, and whatever meager threat they might pose.

No, she remembered it being in a war council. Merson, Merson, Merson...

Merson. Merson. She couldn't remember anything about a Merson other than...

Captain Jasper Merson had betrayed his rebellion when he was nearly sixteen and in the past two years, he had climbed his way to being one of the army's most revered captain, though no one had trusted him. Last week he had deserted. Lysandra still remembered her mother's disappointment. He had such potential, she had sighed.

She went down to the records. Jasper Merson and his family would be recorded here, just like her mother recorded almost everything about her soldiers and the insurgents. It only took ten minutes to find all three files on three Mersons, the one labelled Jasper far thicker than the other two. She'd look at that one eventually. Opening Nala's with care, she saw what she needed on the front.

Deceased insurgent

Aunt and foster mother to the presumed dead captain Jasper Merson of the Imperial army

But of course she didn't stop there. Reading further into Nala's file, she combed through her story.

Born in an inconsequential village of Kallias, she had been one of the few who stood against Medea when she first conquered the Deserted Lands. During the following years she had become a key player in the rebellion, helping them advance.

Dozens of suspected crimes lined her file, with a brief mention of her elder sister, Tera, and the child she had with another rebel, along with their eventual deaths and Nala's adoption of that boy-Jasper Merson. Then her marriage to a fellow insurgent-Peter, who was orphaned at birth and took Nala's name-at thirty.

Apparently, Nala had been captured four years ago and executed.

They were wrong. Nala had bet that no one would believe her if she said that the rebel was still alive, and she was probably right-if, of course, Lysandra wasn't princess, and thus, above almost all doubt.

Jasper's uncle, Peter Merson had such a similar story to his wife's, down to the street he grew up in.

So Nala was brilliant, she had to admit. But that didn't mean she was letting the somewhat-dead rebel blackmail her.

Because she had discounted one thing: Lysandra's ability to think straight. Information about Jasper Merson was basically publicly available: he had been one of the army's most celebrated Captains before he deserted. But Nala likely spent her time in hiding, if her death report was anything to go by. Her rebellion wasn't giving her any information about him, and it was likely on purpose.

Nala wasn't what she said she was. And if she really was working for another rebellion, then she was currently working behind their backs.