56. Fifty-Six

Fifty-Six

“What’s happening?” I asked, my heart racing as I jolted from bed. The night still hung heavy around us as I slid into my leathers. We must have only slept for an hour or two.

“I’m not sure,” Landers said, his voice tight. He pulled on his clothes as he moved towards the balcony. There was nothing there but the calmness of the night. Hurried footsteps sounded from the hallway and our bodies tensed as we listened to the commotion outside our door. I drew two daggers from my sheath as Landers palmed the sword now strapped to his side. He walked to the door with slow caution and I lifted my knives to my chin as he turned the handle. He pulled the door open to see the captain of his guard standing with his fist suspended in the air, ready to knock. I let out a deep sigh of relief as his face came into view.

“Elric, what is it?” Landers said, loosing a breath as his shoulders relaxed.

“We have a—” Elric paused, his eyes flashing to me.

“Speak, Elric,” Landers said firmly. “You are the captain of her guard now as well.”

His men straightened behind him at the hardness in Landers’s voice, and he continued. “Understood, Your Grace. You are needed in the throne room. The High Priest of The Silliands has come to our gates and has demanded an audience with you. He says he has one of Lady Hyacinth’s companions, and brings information that will be of use.”

Landers’s head whipped to me and my eyes grew in horror.

“But I-I killed him. I saw it with my own eyes. I killed him and took my necklace off his bloody body.” I reached up to my neck, panicking at the weight that was not there before remembering I had left it with Asrai for safekeeping.

Landers turned his focus back to Elric. “What else did he say?”

“He would not elaborate. He only said he had one of her companions and information.”

My mind raced, drowning out the conversation that was happening in front of me.

I killed him. I know I killed him. But if he wasn’t dead, if he had been brought back to life and he had one of my friends . . . Ardan. He brought Ardan back with him. Ardan was alive, he had brought him back to us. A bargaining chip in his sick game.

“Wake the other five. Get them to the throne room and we will meet you there.”

Elric turned, instructing his men before they all tethered from sight.

“Hyacinth,” Landers said my name, but it was distant—muffled. “Hyacinth.” He grabbed my trembling hands, pulling me from my spiraling thoughts as my eyes met his. “Are you all right?” The blur in my vision focused as Landers face came into view.

“I killed him, Landers. I killed him.” The rage began to bubble inside of me the longer I thought about the possibility of him making it out alive.

“Well,” he said, dragging a hand through his hair, “let’s find out if he is who he is claiming to be.”

Landers tethered us to the throne, gesturing for me to sit as he draped an arm over a golden antler and leaned against it, pushing his free hand into the pocket of his leathers as we waited. Candles danced in the night, casting a warm glow over the marble room as I tapped my fingers against the throne. The gold flecks inlaid in the floor sparkled in response as the doors pushed open and Elric walked in. He walked toward us at a steady, hurried pace. His face was set in hard lines.

“The others are on their way, my guard will bring in the High Priest once they arrive.”

Landers nodded as Elric took his place to the right of us, his hand gripped the pommel of his sword. Within seconds, the sound of tethering echoed around us as Asrai, Pri, Wren, Ata, and Andrues materialized into the room.

“Is it true?” Landers said to Andrues as he approached in an almost inaudible whisper.

“Yes,” was all Andrues responded, his voice grim as he slipped into place at Landers’s side. A chill ran up my spine but I steeled myself. Now was the time to stand by the decision to stay and fight, to show the strength that was no longer buried inside of me.

I was a God, and I would let him see it.

“Elric,” I said in a calm, steady voice. Landers’s gaze turned to me as Elric stepped forward.

“Yes, my lady?”

“Please open the doors to the balcony, a guest will be joining us soon.” A small smile of approval crept onto Landers lips at my request. His gaze met mine and there was pride behind those dark glittering eyes.

I reached my hand to Ata, beckoning her to come up the stairs to the throne. A wicked smile played on her lips as she approached with a nod of understanding. She perched on the arm of the golden chair, her hand sliding into mine and giving it a small squeeze. Pri and Wren sat on the steps to my left, whispering to each other as a breeze blew through the doors Elric had just opened. I watched them for a moment, grateful that Wren had come back to us—come back to her . Grateful that he hadn’t let himself slip into a depth of grief that he could not come back from.

Elric walked back from the balcony, giving us a warning nod as the doors to the hall crashed open, the sounds of footsteps and shouting filling the empty space. Thunder cracked in the distance swallowing up the sounds in the room as the High Priest’s eyes snapped to the open balcony doors. I smiled at the momentary terror that flashed across his face before it fell back into his usual look of contempt.

The skies were clear. It wasn’t thunder at all.

Nithra’s wings clapped together one more time before landing onto the balcony’s ledge, the sound reverberating through the room and shaking the castle’s very foundation.

“I believe you have met my dragon,” I sang, tilting my head toward her as she huffed out two tendrils of smoke from her nostrils. The guards holding the High Priest’s arms pushed him to his knees at the bottom of the stairs. He cursed at them under his breath before he lifted his head, his eyes meeting mine as a feral, venomous smile cracked onto his lips.

“It would seem, my queen, you have finally figured out who you are.” He looked over Landers then made his way back to my gaze. “If you were looking for a warm body to fill your bed, all you had to do was ask.” A deep chuckle escaped his lips. “A woman of your stature really shouldn’t choose your lovers from the trash.”

I flashed a smile down at him, stifling the snarl that threatened to spill from my throat. Landers pushed himself casually from the throne, taking a step forward as he pushed his left hand into his pocket.

“Why are you here, Dukovich?” Landers asked, his voice calm, threatening.

“Call off your dogs, and I will tell you everything I know.”

Landers watched him for a long moment, their eyes locked together in a silent standoff before he gestured to his guards to take a step back. They released the High Priest’s arms, placing their hands cautiously on the pommel of their swords as he stood, dusting himself off.

“Ahh, much better. Now we can discuss business,” the High Priest said as he grinned up at us. We stared at him, waiting. “Okay, okay, tough crowd.” He chuckled, raising his palms out to us.

“If you do not start using your words to tell us something useful, I will spill the contents of your stomach at our feet,” Landers said coolly. The High Priest nodded in understanding, that grin still plastered on his face.

I balled my hands into a fist, strangling the urge to slap it off of him.

Nithra’s voice slid into my head. I wouldn’t mind a snack .

I looked at her from the corners of my eyes as a smile slid across my lips. I knew I would like her.

“As I am sure you now know, Redelvtum has fallen.” He gave a nod of respect to Asrai as he placed a hand over his heart.

She did not nod back.

“I have managed to create a backdoor into Ravhal, to get as many of your warriors out as possible. I have men preparing to tether those who have escaped here, to Locdragoon.”

My heart stuttered, and I willed my face to stay neutral. Asrai’s back straightened, her slanted ears perking up at his words as he continued.

“The Silliands and Ammord are building an army greater than any the realms have ever seen. They have taken Redelvtum captive because they know that with them free to prepare for war, they will not stand a chance at winning it—even with greater numbers. They are using Ravhal as a training ground; using the Drow generals to train their warriors, holding their families hostage so they will not fight against them.” Dukovich crossed his arms over his chest, his leathers groaning with the movement.

“The High Priest of Redelvtum sold himself to the devil. He let them in. Let them through their gates when you were least expecting it. He told them of your presence there.” He pointed up at me and my veins ran cold.

Asrai and Wren were right, there had been a traitor in the House of High.

“Why are you telling us this? Why are you turning against your people to help us? What do you stand to gain from giving us this information?” Asrai asked, stepping forward, her hands clasped tightly behind her back.

“Hope, General. I do this for the hope your Gods bring to the realms. For the hope that one day, the realms can be what they once were.” For the first time, I heard sincerity in his voice.

His gaze turned to mine and I sat a little straighter in the golden throne. “For centuries, I have watched as the greed of my ancestors reduced The Silliands to the beating heart of hell. For centuries, I have played the part of the High Priest who wanted nothing more than to watch his enemies burn. But I have been watching, listening, gathering information so that when the time came for me to make a choice, I would have everything I needed to make the right one. When I saw the power you held, I knew that time had come and I have been laying the bricks to reduce The Silliands and Ammord to rubble ever since that day at your academy.”

“I killed you. How are you alive?”

He laughed, scratching his chin as he said, “I thought you would never ask.” He took a step toward me with a wry smile and Wren stood to his feet as Landers took an instinctive step in front of me. I held up my hand to stop them both, then gestured for the High Priest to continue.

“I knew after collaring you, that you wouldn’t need much of a push to release the magic you locked away when you entered the House of High. I knew it was the God stone around your neck—I could feel its power, and I had seen your magic only once before. But I had to be sure before I set a plan in motion that I could not stop. So I hired a Hanth witch that was staying in our war camps to wear the necklace and my face. All it took was you seeing that collar, seeing your maidens, before you unleashed yourself onto him. I knew then, without a doubt, you were the God we had been waiting for.”

I stood, the horror evident on my face as I took a step toward him.

I had killed an innocent being.

My heart twisted as the hope of Ardan being alive died at his words. I was a fool for thinking, even for a second, he could still be alive.

“And Ata? How do you explain away the torture that you inflicted on her. How do you expect us to trust you when you inflict such pain on the people you are asking to ally with you?” I spat the words at him, fury scratching at my skin, clawing its way out as my shadows began to flow down the stairs toward him.

He took a step away from them, swallowing as he looked back up to me.

“I had a role to play,” he spat back, his usually confident voice wavering as darkness swarmed around his feet. “I could not leave her unharmed without being questioned and caught in my own web of lies. I had a choice to make and I chose the one I knew you would come to save without hesitation.”

Wren straightened, pulling Pri behind him as Ata pulled a dagger from its pocket at her thigh. The High Priest took a deep breath, trying to calm himself as my shadows coiled up his legs.

“It was supposed to be you,” he breathed. “He was supposed to bring us you .” The room stilled, as his words hung in the air.

“Who?” Ata growled from beside me.

I hadn’t seen her move to my side.

That smile cracked across his face and my heart picked up speed.

“Your companion I brought with me. Haven’t you wondered where he was?” My heart crashed to the floor.

Taft.

He had Taft.

Guilt shot through my gut. We should have tried harder to find him.

We should have done more to bring him back to us.

Dukovich snapped his fingers and there was a slight shimmer in the air around him, like a cloak falling to the floor as Taft appeared on his knees next to him. His hands were bound behind his back, his mouth gagged.

He looked up at me with wild, wide eyes.

I sprinted down the steps falling to the floor next to Taft as I scrambled to untie the knots around his wrists.

“What have you done to him?” I snarled, releasing the ropes around his hands.

“What have I done?” Dukovich laughed. “You should be asking what he has done.”

Taft ripped the gag from his mouth as I got his hands free, gasping as he flung his arms out toward me, pulling me against his chest. “Don’t believe anything he says. Cin. He is lying.” Taft’s voice was frenzied as he clung to me.

“What did he do to you?” I asked. “What is he lying about?” I pulled his head into the hollow of my shoulder and looked up at Dukovich.

I pulled away from Taft, taking his head between my hands, examining him, checking for wounds . . . but there were none.

Step away from him, child , Nithra hissed and I snapped my head to her.

“Why?” I said aloud, not caring that no one else could hear her.

He cannot be trusted , she growled.

Taft recoiled from the warmth fanning from her snout.

A sword slid across the High Priest’s throat and he stiffened, angling his chin away from Wren’s blade.

“Explain yourself.” Wren’s words were biting as he pushed his sword closer to that solitary vein pumping underneath his stubble. I stood, taking a step away from Taft as he looked up at me with pleading eyes.

“If you lie to me, I will kill you. And this time, I will not fail. Do you understand?” I said, my voice a low rumble. He nodded as Wren lowered his sword just enough for him to swallow.

“It was in Ammord. My men found him in a tavern, drunk off ale and magic, speaking openly about the group he was traveling with. He was speaking of your shadow magic, how he was forced to flee from an attack on a school. It was easy for my guards to connect the dots from there; figure out who he was and who he was traveling with.”

I let my gaze fall back to Taft as he crawled toward me.

“Cin please, it wasn’t—”

“Go on,” I cut him off, gesturing for Wren to lower his sword.

We already knew Taft had given away our position at the inn in Ammord, that was not new information.

So far, he was speaking the truth.

“My men continued filling him with drink as they sent a messenger to the War Council to tell us what they had heard. The Silliand’s War Council wanted to attack right then, capture you while you were still in Ammord, but I convinced them to wait, to be patient. I had a feeling, if offered a bargain that would benefit him, your companion would bring you directly to me and that is exactly what he did,” Dukovich spat down at Taft, his face twisted in disgust at his betrayal.

“He was so desperate to get you away from your king , that he promised his allegiance to us. Promised he could convince you to align with The Silliands and Ammord if we stole you away from him and gave you both asylum within our walls.”

I took another step away from Taft, my eyes widening as the tears of guilt and sorrow turned to wrath. I looked around the room, at the faces that mirrored the horror etched into mine.

“He devised a plan with my men, knowing that Landers wouldn’t let anyone close enough to snatch you. He fed us information about your whereabouts, where you planned to go. He gave your precious Ataliia to us on a platter, telling us exactly where she would be, knowing that you would come to get her back—that you would give yourself over to us to protect her.” Dukovich chuckled to himself as his eyes met mine.

“You really thought he would let you go so easily, because you asked him to? You never thought it strange that he didn’t fight you on your decision to give yourself to me all for the safe return of your friend? He came straight back to The Silliands when your party tethered to Ithia, and I was waiting for him. He had no idea that I had every intention to get you out of The Silliands when he sold you to us; that I had no intention of protecting a man who would sell out his queen over petty jealousy.”

My fists clenched as the truth of Taft’s betrayal was laid bare.