The Uprising (Book #3 in The Inception Trilogy)

chapter twenty-six

(OMG GUYS THIS CHAPTER IS *EDITED*, I FEEL SO ACCOMPLISHED. watch there still be mistakes *long sigh* at least I tried this time. enjoy xx)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

AS IF THE WORLD around them knows what sort of danger lurks ahead, the forest becomes silent and even the stars seem dimmer. Evelyn involuntarily shivers, gripping onto the pommel of her horse's saddle so tightly her fingers ache. Talon is indifferent to the change, inevitably used to it if he's been a "prisoner" like he implies. She doesn't trust him as far as she can throw him, but then again, he might be her only chance of getting back safely if things go wrong.

Which, as it's been proven multiple times before, things always go wrong.

She tries to hold her nerve, but she can't help the anxiety churning in the pit of her stomach. She's almost nauseated by it. She hates how she tosses a side look to Talon, as if she expects any words of comfort or some sign of peace from seeing how calm he is. She scowls to herself and turns back ahead, waiting for some villainous castle to appear into view. She knows that's silly, but she can't shake the feeling that she's walking into an evil protagonist's lair.

Probably because she's doing just that. The only difference is this is real life, not a fairytale, and in real life good doesn't always prevail.

So there's that.

She sets her jaw and feels like slapping herself. She needs to keep ahold of her wits if she plans on staying alert and prepared.

"At the gate," Talon says into the eerie silence, startling her, "there will be two sentinels prepared to take your weapons before escorting you into the main hall."

He glances at her as if he senses she's about to retort and continues quietly. "I suggest you place it where they won't feel for it."

Evelyn raises her brows, somehow annoyed she'd never thought of that before. However, since the dagger has no sheath, she can't very well put it down her pants. So she settles for slipping it between her breasts, tucked into the underwire of her bra. She looks down to make sure there's no obvious outline through her t-shirt. If she slouches, the tip pokes through. She reminds herself to stay as upright as possible.

"You sure they won't check?" she asks hesitantly.

"It's highly unconventional to put a sharp object down one's shirt, don't you think?" He looks at her again. "I think most would rather give their weapons up than risk cutting themselves."

She shrugs. Logic is logic.

"I'm just warning you," she says. "If one of them so much as glances, I'll leave them with a bloody nose."

Talon snorts, but she can't tell if he's laughing or mocking her.

Then, soon enough, a building does come into view, but it isn't the dark and gloomy castle with appropriate lighting striking behind it like she had expected. Honestly, she thinks it would be better than this simple four-story building of work offices that looms over her. At least a castle with jagged towers and constant thunder would give her some insight on what exactly is in store for her.

And it would help if she felt like she were in a fairytale, because then she would have hope for the possibility of winning.

Reality is far too unpredictable for such childish faiths.

"I know it is of no comfort to you," Talon whispers as the sentinels straighten to attention, "but I won't be far."

He's right. It isn't of any comfort to her, but at least he's trying, she supposes. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to look him in the eye, or even have a decent conversation with him without feeling the abyss of anger eating her alive at his mere presence. No matter how many months have passed, her parents' deaths are still fresh wounds. It's beyond enraging to see him and know her mother's blood once colored his lips and stained his teeth.