Traitor, Traitor [NaNoWriMo 2013]

Chapter Seventeen [Part Two]

I tossed and turned in my bed, not getting comfortable. I huffed and flopped on my back, staring at the ceiling.

The day had been completely exhausting. Kirin and I had found blueprints of the palace when it had first been built, but it said nothing about the secret tunnel. Now that I thought about it, if Aaron was smart enough to keep the tunnel itself hidden, then he wouldn't be stupid enough to leave the plans in the archives where anyone could find it.

After that unfruitful excavation, we had had another meeting, this one smaller and more informative. The rebels agreed to the plan. It was simple and easy to execute. They said they had considered and that Lyon would not be brought to any more meetings, but he could assist us in letting us know the actions of the king. Lyon agreed, sufficiently pleased.

At dawn, we would strike.

I let out a long breath. To say I was excited would be an understatement. My mind was reeling with the things we had to do and the things that had already happened until I felt like the weight of it was going to drown me.

I got up. Aaron hadn't found out, yet, but it wouldn't take long. If Lyon could put it all together, then Aaron definitely could.

I headed to the armory, still in my night pants and shirt, hugging the cloak around my shoulders. I was aware I had to get a good night's sleep, but tired as I was, I couldn't find it in me to let my eyes shut. Not simply because images of Larkin and the poisoned woman kept screaming behind my eyelids, but also because my body was so high on energy it felt like I had ingested too much sugar.

I let my cloak drop to the ground and picked up a pair of hunting knives. Someone had kept a practice dummy at the center of the arena and I grabbed an armload of knives. I could at least practice if I couldn't sleep.

I held the tip of my blade just like I had been taught and threw. The knife flew above the target's head and clattered on the floor behind it. I tried again. This one nicked the top of his head.

I had never been very good at long range weapons. I always preferred hand held weapons. Also, my aim was pathetic.

Half an hour later I managed to get six knives on the dummy without having gone there and stabbed it.

I heard footsteps behind me and Kirin entered the arena. He raised an eyebrow when he saw me. "Couldn't sleep?"

I shook my head. He looked at the pile of knives clattered around the dummy.

"Don't," I warned. Kirin raised his hands as if to confirm he wasn't going to make fun of me, but I could just see the laugh he was hiding.

He picked up a fallen knife. "It's like this," he explained. He threw the knife and it struck right at the center of the dummy's forehead.

I tried again, but my aim was worse. "Not like that!" Kirin said, exasperated. "Here."

He lifted my elbow slightly and shifted the angle of my waist. He tapped my arm to ask me to relax it slightly.

"You're not even looking at the target." He pressed his face to mine, his hand holding my knife hand. He closed one eye to look at the target and adjusted my face with his. He said something that took a minute to get through my fog-addled brain.

"Throw it now, but don't tense so much."

At the speed my heart was racing, I didn't even manage to get the knife anywhere near the target.

Kirin gave me a knowing smile that flushed my face further. "Go away," I said, struggling to keep my own smile down. His face was inches from mine.