The Rebel (#Wattys2016)

51. Traitor

Adeen walked in her black cloak besides Zed, despite the summer's heat and her repulsion for him. Angeles' streets were empty this late at night, everybody inside their houses either sleeping or about to.

"Are you alright?" Zed asked Adeen, who nodded.

"I just need to see him again." Said Adeen, although she could feel Zed's eyes on her. He took her hand in an attempt at a show for support, but Adeen could only think don't pull back your hand. Don't pull back your hand or you'll ruin it. "How is everything at Command?" Adeen asked

One of her many punishments for letting the princes escape on her watch had been a demotion from her former Official position —one of the few soldiers that actually knew what Command were doing- to soldier. Years of training, of sweat and tears and blood, resulted in a demotion as her punishment. Along with the torture, of course.

"Tense. The royal broadcasts keep coming, and everyday some people join them." Zed watched Adeen from the corner of his eyes, but she kept her face neutral. "But those who do join them are nothing but madmen, twos and threes and some fours that are too attached to their wealth to let go." Zed shrugged as they made it to the City Square, the one in the middle of the poor part of Los Angeles. "They'll realize their mistake once we crush the revolution."

Zed said so so carelessly and casually the comment's punch almost missed Adeen, but she still struggled to breath and keep her face neutral as Skander's face in the TV showed up. She nodded and kept going to the centre of the Square, where the stage where the Officials used to punish criminals was empty. She stopped by the stairs to it and stared at it.

"Golmes proposed we started broadcasting the executions," Zed said behind her, "of the traitors. I am strongly against it, of course. It'll only make us look more like them. Tomorrow we kill the King, and that should be it. I tried changing his mind."

"Did you?"

Zed shook his head as he stared at the stage. "You know Golmes. He's stubborn. And now that the princes basically revived the monarchy and created their own revolution." Zed shook his head and took Adeen's hand, leading her away, to the Four part of town. "He's raging. But he'll come to his senses, I know he will. In a couple of days he'll be back to who he used to be before."

Adeen nodded and bit back a comment, following Zed through the empty streets.

"Zed?" She finally dared ask.

"Yes?"

Adeen kicked a stone, and for a second hesitated. "When we get to his grave, can I get a moment alone?" They were almost at the edge of the Four neighborhood, and at the entrance of the public cemetery.

"Of course, Ade." He said, but Adeen could hear the suspicion in his voice.

"I won't be long," she quickly said, "I just want to say goodbye, that's all."

Adeen and Zed stopped on their tracks. The stone walls of the public cemetery stared at them, interrupted only by the metal gates that guarded the place. Zed handed Adeen his flashlight and opened the gates, the chains clinking as he threw them at the ground and opened the creaking gates. When he was done, Adeen handed him back his flashlight and stared at the open gates. Zed turned to her and bowed.

"After you." He said.

Adeen hesitated once more, then took a step forward. As soon as she had passed the walls, a chill went all the way from her shoulders to her feet, and she clutched her flashlight harder. She took in a deep breath and continued on, Zed closely behind. Before, in the Castle, they'd asked Golmes for the details for Dax's grave. She'd memorized them, and now Adeen turned to the right and began walking down a gravel path lined with mausoleums and graves. She tried not to focus on the fact that to her sides dead people lied in the ground, and that many had been murdered and many had died and many had taken their life. They lied in the ground with maggots all around them and the tears of their loved ones that had once wet the dirt around them. Some of those corpses were there because of someone, of some murderer that had taken their lives, just like Adeen had. She took in a deep breath and shook her head, but words were tugging in her mind. Murderer. Killer. Traitor. That boy she'd killed when she was thirteen. Gevrial Stronghub, the soldier she'd killed during her initiation into the Freedom Fighters. Aelin Maas. Juliette Mafi. Cassie Yancey. Darrow Brown. Gansey Stiefvater. Liam Bracken. People, young and old and innocent and guilty whose life she'd taken, were now staring at her from the edges of her vision. Blue, black, brown and green eyes stared at her accusingly, and their hands were pointing at her. Murderer. Killer. Traitor. Their names stayed in Adeen's mind, screaming at her, until Adeen stopped on her tracks and shook her head. She heard Zed ask her something, but it sounded like she was underwater and no sound could make its way to her but the steady, loud rhythm of the corpses' accusations. Murderer. Killer. Traitor.