Keepers of the Crown

by Lydia Redwine

  But it wasn’t two ShadowBearers that enteredto takeher away. Only one.

  Her hand flew to her mouth, and she stumbled back, her thighs hitting the edge of a chair. The creature bowed mockingly, his lips splitting into a sinister smile beneath a single eye of ice and an eyepatch fastened on the other side. Leviathan glided towards her, his eyes raking every inch of her body. Her eyes could not be torn from him either. It had been months since she had seen him last.

  She stiffened when he took her hand in his and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Camaria,” he purred. “Beautiful Camaria. The queen has requested that I escort you and keep you company at tonight’s special occasion held in your honor.” He straightened, dropping her hand from his grasp. He clasped his hands behind his back.

  Cam was breathing heavily. “But Peter said there was lightning…”

  “Surprised, are you?” Leviathan gave a chilling chuckle. “Your dear friend thought he had killed me twice. The first, knowing me as a merciless monster and the second knowing I to be a quest both he and his father have been on for years.” He paused, his eyes coming to rest on her arms for a long moment before they flitted to meet her eyes again.

  Cam did not reply. Could not reply.

  He eyed her for a long moment before asking in a long, drawling voice, “How is Ilea? Not dead I hope.”

  He laughed, but Cam found no amusement. She crossed her arms over her chest and mustered as much dignity that remainedwithin heranddrewit uponherexpression. “AskSilva. She knows better than I do.”

  Leviathan didn’t even try to hide his surprise. “Silva has Ilea with her? Hmmm, so she does care about vengeance and exercising it over the Scarlet Spy. More so than I thought.” His voice was threaded with ice now.

  “So, he knows about Ilea’s identity too.”

  The creature fluttered a hand and leaned against the bedpost. “Ithought it tobebut ameregrievanceofSilva’s. But...I suppose not. Anyway, it matters to me not. Ilea is of no use to me anymore.”

  Cam remained silent, but her thoughts were blaring. There she saw it. Three games intertwining. All three of them playing with each other. She could only hope that Silva and Leviathan had not decided to ally against her. “No,” she surmised, “Silva is too engrossed in avenging Leviathan.” They were both after the Crown. But for different reasons.

  The Shadow Bearer motioned for the smaller creatures with them to leave. As he turned from the closing door, he turned his gaze to examine Cam more closely. Chills sprinkled her arms, legs, and neck beneath his gaze. Finally, as if to break the frigid silence, shebit out,“Doyouhave to taketwiceas longto examine something because you only have one eye?”

  Leviathan's eye flashed as it flicked up to meet Cam’s. He did not answer her question. Instead, he said coolly, “I do not believe that we have been properly introduced. My name is Leviathan and my titles are numerous and usually inconspicuous depending on who you ask.” His voice dipped into a dull tone as he listed, “High Lord of Mingroth, Emperor of the Northern Seas, Nebulous Rider of the Desert, Rogue of the Clifflands. All positions I have held for centuries.” Once again, he gave Cam a mockbow. “Might I addthat I makethemost favorablecompany at a ball and therefore why the queen has chosen me, the best, to accompany you.”

  Leviathan had stepped so close to Cam that his face hovered over hers. She swallowed hard, wishing she could back up farther, but upon her attempt, she fell into the chair. Leviathan’s unusually elongated fingers slipped through Cam’s, and he drew her up before him. He placed one of her hands in the crook of his arm and nodded his head towards the door. “Let the festivities begin,” he whispered.

  Cam refused to look at him. She kept her gaze fixated ahead and made the best effort to ignore his presence altogether. They walked carefully through passages and down stairwells until they found themselves within the main hall and entrance of Silva’s stronghold. The light was pouring from the ballroom: iridescent blue light that swayed and glided with the bodies already moving beneath it.

  Cam entered as if she were parting curtains of blue. Her eyes could not find the source of the light. It was warm in the main hall, but not from flames. Rather, the warmth of body heat radiating from the Shadow Bearers already here. A resonant voice echoed from the enormous doors saying, “May I now present High Lord Leviathan and our most honorable guest Camaria Briar.”

  “Caddell,” Cam said aloud before she could refrain herself. Leviathan cast a sideways glance at her. He scoffed but offered no reply. Arm in arm, Leviathan, and Camaria emerged before the audience of richly dressed persons. The light seemed to part and unfold so she could see the hundreds of guests. Cam pulled in her gasp and refused to let it echo with the already haunting music lifting and falling.

  Hanging from the ceiling and high windows, were green and silver banners, each with a snake curled around a name. On each of the sixteen banners, the snake held a diverging position. “These must be the banners of each city and their ruler,” Cam presumed. And there was no longer a single throne but seventeen. Each for a city and the last for Silva herself. Except, Silva’s was the only one occupied. The rest were empty.

  “Because she massacred them,” Cam remembered. Camaria was so drawn into the details of the room, that she hardly noticed Leviathan’s move to sweep her into both the center of the room and the guest’s attention. Leviathan bowed to Silva and received a smile in return. But the queen’s smile was forced, and Cam saw the slight tightening in the tendons of Silva’s wrists and fingers. Cam offered no sign of respect. She tilted her chin upward and pinned an iced stare upon the queen.

  Silva’s gown was not silver, green, and black as it had been before. This time, she wore a form-fitting black gown plastered with gold which matched the paint on her face, the crown upon her head, and the hundreds of dipping chains which hung from her neck and gown. The gown which matched Camaria’s to every little detail.

  “A pleasant party is it not?” Silva sai d, her voice trilling. She addressed Cam but spoke in a tone which was easily distinguished by all present.

  “Indeed,” Cam replied. “It is so pleasant in fact that I do not wish to spoil the night by ending with a game that would ruin possibly one or the other’s life. I suggest we begin the festivities with our final round as a way of thanking the fellow guests for joining us this evening. It could perhaps be something of a show.” Cam smiled, but the gesture hurt.

  For the smallest instant, Silva’s expressi on iced over. It thawed in an instant, however, and her smile grew wider. “What a marvelous suggestion!” sheexclaimedheartily though her tone was edged with an apparent hint of ice and steel.

  Cam saw Leviathan's brows rising through a sideways glance. “You have so much to catch up on,” she thought. She withdrew her hand from Leviathan’s arm and stepped gracefully towards thequeen. “Ichallengeyou,Queen Silva, empress ofthis valley to slay, in whichever manner you desire most, the one person whom you love most.”

  The room plummeted into silence as if all breath had been sucked from the space. “Love,” Silva spat. “Love!” she cackled.

  Cam smiled. “I suppose that love is hardly in your heart, but it does exist.” Leviathan was gazing upon Cam with a rather quizzical expression. His thoughts were unreadable beyond his bemusement.

  Silva’s fingernails tapped the edge of her throne as she kept her gaze fastened on Cam. Silva shook her head a moment before her sinister smile returned. She shrugged. “But I love no one.”

  The silence in the room boiled with the smoldering fury in Cam’s eyes and…

  And the sharp laugh now slicing the air. Both Cam and Silva turned to Leviathan as if noticing his presence for the first time. “You love yourself most!” he said his laughter filling every inch of the room. The look of hunger on his expression was ravenous.

  “He wants her dead,” Cam realized.

  Silva was rising on trembling legs, a shaking finger pointing at both Cam and Leviathan. “I despise myself.” Her words were set in a low ton
e and threaded with disgust.

  “What?”

  Cam’s brows knitted together.

  Silva’s lip quivered slightly, and her shoulders began to

  shake. “I despise everything I’ve done,” she whispered huskily, her eyes wide and distant while simultaneously very present. She drew in a shaky breath. “But I will still win.” Her smile reemerged, but it was draped in a foreign sadness. “Fire perhaps,” she said more to herself than to Cam. Her eyes flitted to meet Cam’s once more. “You like fire, don’t you?”

  The queen tore from her seat and swept past Cam, a tidal wave of fury in her wake as she vanished beyond the throne room doors. And Cam stared after her, her own gasp echoing with those of the guests. “What the hell?” she breathed.

  Ever since the arena, ever since Cam had stepped one place ahead, Silva had begun to crumble. “Or did something else happen?” She flicked her gaze to the Shadow Bearer before her. “How long have you been here?” she wondered at him.

  Murmuring spread through the room. “The party will now commence. The queen will return in her own time,” Leviathan announced in a bored tone, his hungry expression now slackened to dull focus on his fingernails. The guests were hesitant at first, but when the warbling echoes of the haunting music floated through them once more, their bodies were swaying, and the heat returned.

  Cam swallowed, trying to catch her breath. She was beginning to feel her own sweat form.

  “Come, Camaria. Let us join them,” Leviathan said, drawing her to him. Cam slipped her gaze from the doors of the ballroom to her partner. Her confused expression was replaced with coldness. Before she could object, Leviathan lifted a goblet to her lips. “Best that you drink this first.” She thrashed in his grip, but he still managed to pour the contents of the goblet down her throat.

  “Wine,” she registered. It was silky and bursting with flavor.

  “You don’t like that much, do you?” The Shadow Bearer cooed. “Andit mustn't be because of the taste, for this wine is the best Mingroth has to offer. Or is it…”

  He was staring at her now, his gaze more intent than it had been before. Cam’s eyes were slipping shut, the liquid dissolving in her veins much quicker than normal wine would.

  “You’ve developed a little addiction, haven't you?” Leviathan gasped, his eyes widening. His laugh rumbled from him at the sight of the sweat forming on her brow. “When did it start?”

  Cam couldn't breathe. Memories pummeled her. Months and months…

  Night after night…

  First, just to chase the nightmares away and to help her sleep. And then to keep pain at bay during the day. And then all the time. Until she needed it for her parched throat and churning stomach and to keep her warm...

  The next thing she knew, Leviathan had scooped his hands around her waist and swung her into the mass of dancing figures. She only knew his warm, wine-smelling breath upon her neck and blurring, spinning colors. Her head was muddled while diverging sensations bombarded her. Her stomach churned and lurched, whatever it was that was inside it rising to her throat.

  But then in a flash, she felt warm and fluttery. “Poison,” she thought. Her stomach twisted at the thought. “Death?” she wondered. Or was this Silva’s way of forcing information from her? The music screamed in her ears, forcing her feet into motion.

  But Cam knew one thing as she danced with the lord of all Shadow Bearers. She knew his power was far superior to that of Silva’s, and that he would not be daunted by the threat of fire. He knew her fabrication of a story about her being marked by him to be but a mere falsehood.

  She felt the power radiating off of him. The power churned her stomach and made her melt into the madness of his arms.

  Thirty-Two

  Peter’s body tingled with the damp air and on the inside with

  the fear clutching at him.

  “Not fear,” he thought. Rather, apprehension. Still, his

  breath was uneven as he pulled them in and drove them out. He dragged his injured leg down the passage as he

  repeatedCam’s directions in his head. “A key with a hooked end,

  set with the tiniest emerald to be inserted in the door’s lock. The

  door at the end of the showering chamber. Hidden behind the

  pipes.” Then he wondered, How do they know how to get into

  their own dungeons?”

  Shuffling sounded behind him in unison with the

  dripping of the water from the pipes. Only Fiera, Owen, and

  Caleb had joined him. The others had remained behind, waiting. “Wait until I tell Saff about all of this.” Peter’s fingers

  were trembling slightly, only slightly, when he inserted the key

  and turned. He waited for a click. Any sound that might indicate

  it was unlocked. Or perhaps he was just stalling. Finally, the door

  swung open silently. Everything had fallen silent. Even the water

  was no longer dripping from the pipes.

  Peter’s breath was long and close to a gasp. These cells

  made their own appear luxurious. Whereas they had had light,

  this passage was pitch black. The walkway between the sets of

  dungeons was slimy with whatever had once been in stomachs,

  feces, and urine.

  Hastily, he covered his nose.

  “Where are you?” he whispered.

  The cry sounded, making Peter nearly jump out of his

  skin. He whirled, finding Fiera to be stumbling back into a cell,

  for a hunched creature had hobbled to the cell door. Peter felt his own scream clawing up his throat and

  sticking out his tongue. He saw only the expanse of its body if it

  could be called a body. It was enormously tall with bloodied

  strips of skin holding bones in place. These creatures hadn't

  eaten in...ages.

  “Band of the Banished…you were servants of the king

  who rebelled, leading the barbarians into the fortress. Silva had

  you banished so that you might suffer a fate worse than death,”

  Peter murmured the words his father had said to him. The story

  rumbled through his mind.

  Peter lifted the torch to view the face. And would regret

  it for the rest of his life.

  And years after he would see flashes of that face again.

  Sometimes while sleeping. At other times while he was wide

  awake. White eyes void of pupils. A thin-lipped mouth dripping

  with blood, a mouth toothless and hanging open. Black veins

  were corded through the pallor skin, seemingly dripping from

  the eyes.

  The most alarming part of this face was that it held no

  expression. It was death yet still breathing.

  Peter stumbled back, a warm body behind him. Caleb

  clutched his shoulder, and Peter knew that he and his allies all

  held their breaths.

  The hairless creature spoke. “Let usssss return home…” He felt Fiera’s gasp on his neck. There were more.

  Crawling, stumbling, hobbling. Nearing them from the darkness

  beyondthebars between them. HissingfilledPeter’s ears andthe

  passage all around him.

  “Kill the queen who imprisoned you and be free,” Peter

  breathed.

  Cam’s head ached. Her body vibrated. For what reason, she

  could not register. When she opened her eyes, she found that she was sprawled in the corner upon the ballroom floor. Leviathan sat quite close in a plush throne with three young people milling around him. Human or Shadow Bearer, she could not tell. Her vision was too blurry.

  She felt rather than heard her own groan at the throbbing in her skull. She winced as her hands pushed against the floor to raise herself.

  “Ah, you’ve awakened!” Leviathan declared once he had noticed Cam was up. The three creatures, who
had previously been engaged in conversation with him, cast disdainful looks in Cam’s direction.

  “Filthy vermin,” one hissed. Cam ignored them, rising unsteadily to her feet. Another hissed. “Vrokimos temetia.” Cam didn’t want to know what it had said. But Leviathan spoke clearly in her own tongue.

  “Enough wine?” he inquired. Cam glared in his direction as she rubbed her temple. “I presume it’s nearly drained from you by now. Youdanced it away!” Helaughed. “Timefor another drink?” Hehadnotimetoriseandbeckon aservanttobringCam wine, for one of his company captured his lips in a sensual show of affection. At the sound of his moan, Cam gagged.

  Cam rose on wobbly feet, her hand going to her head when…

  The lights flickered.

  And went out.

  Blue flames vanished, just like that. Sounds followed. Cam froze, her mind scrambling to name the sounds and their sources. She guessed a gasp and then a tremendous crash followed. “The doors…” She stumbled back at the sound, her body tingling. “Silva…”

  She lurched forward in hopes of finding something to help her get her bearings. Feet were shuffling and bodies smacking into each other. Cries at the sudden movement.

  Cam gritted her teeth, fighting back the groan as her side smacked into something hard. She extended her hands, roving them over the expanse. “A wall…” She began walking. “Find a way out, Camaria. Just get out.”

  A clangingsounded, andCam’s muscles tensed. “Swords. They’re here. Fiera is here.” And like the flickering of the blue flames when they had gone out, a memory emerged from the haziness of her consciousness. A reason. Context.

  And her threat to melt the Shadow Bearers with her own flames because they believed her to be under Leviathan's control. And when she had found the key, Peter had whispered the plan. To officially make an alliance with the imprisoned Shadow Bearers.