Chapter Nineteen

Before the palanquin even reached its destination, the scents and sounds of the ceremony leading to the Awakening had filled the air. As they progressed toward the Sanctuary's center, wafts of incense drifted through the palanquin's curtains. The scents were sharp and stinging, and though his mind was focused elsewhere, on what he was going to have to do tonight, Darius noticed Lithra dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve.

There was another scent on the air, heavy beneath the sharpness of the incense. It was a scent that managed to be cloying and yet faintly metallic. His lips pursed. Blood, in large quantities.

It was traditional during the Awakening to offer the finest animals from among the flocks to the One Who Sleeps, be they goats or sheep or cattle. As the crown prince, it had been Darius' duty to oversee the ritual sacrifice for over a decade. If the slaughter had already occurred, if Naratha had elected to take that role herself tonight, she was clearly willing to bend traditional duties for the sake of minimizing the time that Darius spent outside of his cell.

It was wise of her, he supposed. But it wasn't going to stop him.

He turned to Lithra as the palanquin was slowly lowered to the ground. "I'm not going to allow any further harm to come to your sister," he said. "Nor to you. Whatever happens tonight, don't be afraid."

"What?" she asked, startled. "But…"

He shook his head at her as the palanquin's curtains were drawn aside, ignoring the silent plea in her gaze. Whatever the risks, he would never be able to live with himself if he stepped aside and let further suffering come to Tanitha.

He stepped out, offering Lithra a hand of assistance. She took it as she stepped to the ground as well, though she was still trying to catch his eye.

He turned away. They were at the base of a long line of broad stone steps that led up to the hilltop that the royal family and the city's highest priests occupied for the evening. Ritual chants from the other side of the hilltop reached them even here, the words and rhythms strangely distorted by their own echoes against the many buildings of the Sanctuary.

He motioned for Lithra to walk at his side, and with a look of apprehension, she fell in step beside him as they began to ascend the stairs.

They crested the flat and flagstone-covered hilltop. The stars in the night sky overhead were barely visible through the glare of the flickering torches that illuminated the scene.

Naratha and Kai were waiting, both in ceremonial robes. Naratha's were bloodstained, as Darius had anticipated, and in fact there were even flecks of blood punctuating the ceremonial symbols that had been painted in gold across her forehead. She was watching him carefully, barely even sparing a glance for Lithra. On the other side of the hill, in a hollow that was left vacant through most of the year, there was an enormous ring of sacrificed animals arranged around a tall stone carving, an abstract representation of the One Who Sleeps, soon to be the Awakened One. Crowds of people were jammed into every available space around the site, and as Darius stepped into the flickering torchlight, one of the priests loudly announced him. Cheers broke loose, though there was a hint of uncertainty and hesitance to the timbre of the crowd. Naratha's lips pursed at this, but Darius ignored it. They'd all be certain that it was truly him soon enough.

He turned, extending a hand to Lithra. With great trepidation, she took it, and he drew her forward as the priest announced her as Tanitha to the waiting subjects. The cheers this time were almost deafening. Lithra startled slightly, but otherwise kept her outward composure as they took their place beside Naratha and Kai.

"It seems this is going well," Darius said quietly to his mother under the resumed ritual chanting from the assembled priests, though he didn't look directly at her. "Kai says that the nobility think you're being quite clever, allowing a human to do the Trials." His jaw was set. "I wonder what the common people will think if this goes the way you plan?"

"My hands are tied, Darius," she replied flatly, sending him a sideways look. "And you are the one that provided Alethia with the rope."

"You are the Queen of the Shadowborn City," he shot back. "You could put a stop to this. All of this. But you won't. It has nothing to do with Alethia, and everything to do with Tanitha. With the fact that you are afraid of her."

"I am not afraid of her," Naratha snapped.

"Rulers must know themselves, first and foremost. You taught me that," Darius said, voice low. "You are afraid of her. If you can't admit it to me, then at least admit it to yourself."

Naratha was quiet, and for a moment, the only sound was the crackling of torches and the swelling of the chanting below in volume.

"There are many things that I fear," she said at last. "I've never hidden that from you." She folded her hands together. "I am not afraid of Tanitha," she continued. "But that does not mean that I do not believe her to be a danger." She eyed him. "If only through you."

Darius rather had the impression that she expected him to protest, to once again claim that Tanitha had given him no orders, that he posed no danger to her or to this city. But he found himself unwilling to offer any such assurances.

"If any harm comes to her," he said instead, "you will see exactly what kind of danger I pose."

Naratha's mouth formed a thin line. "Do as you're expected for tonight, and she lives to see the dawn," she said flatly. "Otherwise I make no such promises."

"You've been clear," Darius said, voice low with anger. The raw fury he'd felt at seeing Tanitha hurt and vulnerable after her first Trial was surging to life inside him. "You've been perfectly clear about what you're willing to do to control me." He shook his head. "What you're willing to do to accomplish exactly what you say you fear Tanitha has done to me."

Naratha's jaw worked, and she turned fully back to the front. Maybe she knew it was true, or maybe she simply had decided that any further conversation was bound to lead to escalation, which was something she wouldn't be eager to court. Not with the situation as delicate as it was.

They stood in silence, the sound of the priests' chant swelling and rising around them. The crowds that surrounded them were quiet, likely adding their own silent hopes and pleas to the gods in thoughts and murmured prayers. Darius found himself wondering about the times Tanitha had almost certainly done likewise, offering prayers to the Awakened One. Darius himself had long since abandoned such ritual in his heart, only participating for outward appearances, but… he was a prince. He had the power to make his own desires come to pass. He hadn't been raised at the mercy of so many forces that his only recourse sometimes would be to beg intercession from gods that scarcely seemed to listen, let alone bother to intervene.

And yet, here he stood, for perhaps the first time in his life completely at the mercy of forces beyond him. A strange sense of longing washed over him. He could do it, he thought. He could add a prayer to the swelling of desire and desperation around him. A prayer for Tanitha's safety. And yet… he couldn't bring himself to do so. To throw his cares at the feet of the gods was tantamount to admitting that he could do nothing to help her. And he refused to believe or admit any such thing.

He glanced sideways at Lithra. She was pale, a faint sheen of sweat on her brow. His stomach twisted. He'd been so absorbed with thinking about Tanitha that he'd almost forgotten her. She would have been able to hear most of that conversation, and it would have done little to reassure her that Tanitha would be safe. Or perhaps she was simply sick with anxiety that Darius might disobey Naratha. That he might do exactly as his feelings urged him to do. That he might go to Tanitha and flee with her.

Everything inside him practically demanded it, and in fact, what Naratha was trying to prevent him from doing would be almost absurdly easy. Tanitha wasn't a fool. If she sensed his approach, she wouldn't betray that fact to Alethia until it was too late. He'd probably have to kill Alethia, yes, but if that was what it took to save Tanitha, so be it.

The chanting abruptly broke off, as did the rhythmic pounding of the drums. An intense silence washed over the hilltop. His head still swimming with the overwhelming scent of incense, Darius stepped forward.

"Your Highness." The whisper from Lithra was barely audible, and he glanced back at her. Her eyes were wide. "Please," she managed.

He pursed his lips, turning away from her. He was not inclined to make any promises tonight.

He walked forward to the front center of the open hilltop, torches flickering around him, and he seized on the flames with his elemental abilities, forcing them to flare bright for several seconds. A hush had fallen over the crowd as everyone, human and demon alike, strained to see him.

A part of him wanted to accomplish his duties with perfunctory haste, but he knew what sort of rumors had to be swirling. He'd been seen fighting Naratha, then vanished from public view for weeks. Rumors of a prince's death, a crown prince's death, would do nothing but sow unease and possibly instability, especially if enemy agents were able to leverage them to create fear. There would certainly be those in the crowd wondering if he truly was the crown prince, or if Naratha had conscripted another demon to imitate his form. And so he took his time, allowing everyone time to look, to see his features, and to know that this was no talented imitator.

And then he took his dragon form.

Copper-bound muscles surged, and he whipped his head skyward, letting out a roar of pure draconic power. Cheers erupted from the crowd, and he flared his wings, their leather snapping like the sails of the mightiest ships in the wind. He hadn't consciously made the decision, but he appeared to have taken a much larger version of his dragon form than normal. It might have been the largest he had ever done, save during his final Trial prior to being formally named as Naratha's heir, when both practicality and spectacle had demanded it. Well, there might be little practical need for it right now, but spectacle? Spectacle was something he could use.

He coiled his serpentine neck back to look at Naratha. His slitted eyes met hers. Her gaze was stone, but his… his was fire and fury.

He launched himself into the sky.

The air streamed around him in a song that stoked the flames of his anger, his fury. She thought she could imprison and control him? She thought she could use the woman he loved as a pawn in a twisted game? He was Prince Darius of the Shadowborn City, a descendant of Diantha herself. He didn't care what she did, what obstacles she might have prepared to stop him from going to Tanitha. He would tear through them like a knife through cloth. He would show her what it meant to threaten those he loved.

And at that thought, something in him faltered. Did he not also love his city? There had been so much damage the last time he and Naratha had fought; they'd been extremely fortunate that no one had been harmed. That wouldn't be the case this time, with the gathered crowds. Did he not also care for the lives of those that called it their home?

Didn't Tanitha feel the same?

The air still sung around him as his wings pulsed, sending him higher and higher into the night sky. The prickling light of stars was all there was against the darkness, no moon or sun to guide. Just tiny pinpricks of light, but it was more than he'd had in the past weeks. Tanitha did love this city. It had been a shelter and a home to her, just as it had been to him.

He could go to her. But while he might be strong enough to bear the consequences, there were many here who would not be. Tanitha wouldn't forgive him that.

And she wouldn't forgive him for forcing her to abandon the only home she'd ever known.

He completed the second circuit of the sacred hill, wind streaming over his wings. He could feel Naratha's gaze on him, and for a moment, he wondered what contingencies she'd planned in case the strictures she'd told him about proved to not be enough. He could do it. He could do as he'd always done with Tanitha. He could take control of the situation, try to guide her path and her fate. He'd been doing it since the beginning, carefully deciding what information to give her, what to teach her, what to encourage her to do. Up until the moment he'd told her that it was time for her to leave. Up until the moment that she'd kissed him. Up until the moment that she'd said the words he hadn't even admitted to himself that he was desperate to hear. When she'd begged him to find a way that they could be together.

He wavered, pulling into the third circuit. That was what she wanted, but it wasn't all she wanted. Lithra had told him that Tanitha was afraid. Not of the Trials, not of death. But afraid that he'd do as he had always done. Afraid that he'd once more try to force fate to bend to his will. That he'd try to force her fate to bend to his will.

He'd failed to trust her for long enough. It was true he couldn't force himself to surrender his influence over her fate to the gods. But maybe he could surrender it to her.

He pulled his wings inward, swooping into a dive.

He let loose a blazing torrent of dragon flame, and it caught the mound of sacrifices with a roar of power and heat. The force of the rising heat caught his wings, and the gust carried him starward for an instant before he leveled his course.

He landed back at his original position on the hilltop with a shriek of claws on stone. Taking his human form once more, he walked back to Naratha among cheers from the gathered crowd.

Naratha inclined her head. "Thank you, Darius," she said. Around them, the chants of the priests were rising once more, the sound mixing with the crackles of fire and flame.

His jaw tensed. "It wasn't for you," he said. "I want that to be made clear. And it wasn't to protect her, either."

Naratha looked at him warily. "I had assumed," she said, "that protecting her would be a matter of primary importance, regardless of whether I am correct in my assessment of this situation."

Meaning regardless of whether he was under Tanitha's control or not. Regardless of whether or not he truly loved Tanitha. He sent Naratha a scathing look.

"Tanitha did not ask for my protection," he said. "And I made a mistake in thinking that she needed it." He turned to Kai, who was watching him with open apprehension. If Darius' duties here were done, then it was time to return to his cell. And at the moment, that might be the best place for him. Though he was sure in his decision, he didn't know how long he could trust himself to hold to it, not while Tanitha's fate was still so unbearably uncertain. Not while thoughts of what might happen to her gnawed at his thoughts.

He clenched his fists once, briefly, then met Kai's eyes. "Let's go," he said.