The Complete Madion War Trilogy

by S. Usher Evans

  "Then yes, I'm willing to accept the consequences," I said firmly. I had nothing to lose at this point. Nothing except the respect of the woman I loved if I walked away when things got difficult.

  "Figured as much," Kader said, pulling out his keys. "Well, good luck to you."

  "You aren't going to stay here with me?" I asked, stepping forward. I wasn't sure why I wanted him around. Maybe I thought his imposing figure would keep the guards in line more than my royal title would. Maybe I needed a little assurance that I wasn't making a colossal mistake.

  "Unlike you, your father has leverage over me. This is your fight, Galian." He opened the car door then said, "But for what it's worth, it's a good one."

  I spent the night pacing the floor of the smelting room, checking vitals of the smallest prisoners and keeping the fires stoked. Weeks of night shifts had trained me to be alert, and to keep pushing until the first rays of the sun poked through the grimy windows. I sent the guards to hunt down breakfast, but they informed me that their shipment of food had been due yesterday, and thanks to my unplanned appearance, they'd been unable to restock.

  For a brief moment, I considered whether there were any rabbits around for me to skin, but then I realized that I had bigger problems. I was now responsible for two hundred prisoners and twenty guards, none of whom I'd allowed to go home. I was nearing the one-day mark on my stay in the prison, and was surprised that the guards continued to listen to me.

  But I was growing tired. I ducked away into one of the offices. Leaning against the closed door, I sighed loudly and released all the tension and exhaustion. My head swum with the barethium smell, still pungent even after nearly a day of inhaling it. I spied a discarded gas mask on the desk and tripped over my feet to retrieve it and yank it over my face.

  I slouched down in a chair, the gas mask on my face, and my mind took me back to our island and that disgusting laboratory. The photos of the test subjects were eerily similar to the faces I was seeing just outside this room. Kylaen leaders had known what exposure to this poison would do, and they'd ignored the dangers. I tried to wrap my head around the reasons why my father, hell, even my brother could've stomached this.

  There was a knock at the door. I pulled the mask off and the full punch of the barethium odor hit me again. "Come in."

  "It smells like shit," Rhys said, walking into the room.

  I nearly collapsed in relief. "Oh, thank God, you're here."

  "Thank me later," he said, closing the door behind him. "I've brought supplies, as you asked. Blankets, food, water. Dr. Hebendon is arriving in a few hours with support staff from the hospital to check on the injuries at the prison."

  My jaw fell to the floor. "A-are you serious? Why?"

  "Because if we do nothing, Father looks like a heartless bastard," he said dryly. "He's spinning this that he was completely unaware of the horrible treatment of the prisoners here. He's thrown the head of the prison, the one you supposedly fired, in jail for probably the rest of his life. There's a call for his execution, too."

  I winced. "I didn't mean for that to happen."

  "Well, what did you expect? Father's not going to take responsibility for this place. Not after you've splashed photos of child prisoners all over the news. He's pulled me off everything else—including the Jervan trade agreement—to deal with this mess."

  "I'm so sorry that saving hundreds of lives is such an inconvenience to the crown prince of Kylae."

  Rhys seemed unconcerned with my sarcasm as he rubbed a hand over his face. "It really does smell terrible here. I don't know how you can stand it."

  "Imagine being held here against your will," I replied. "Also, did you know that breathing in this toxic fumes for just one day increases your cancer risk?"

  "Yes, I heard your interview," he said. "This is really bad, Gally. Father is...well, he's livid—"

  "Good."

  "No, it's not good. He's completely lost control over the media, and now the ministers are in an uproar! There's talk about deposing him—"

  "What a horrible idea," I deadpanned.

  "Gally, I'm serious—"

  "No, I'm serious. Are you worried you'll lose your riches? Your place on the throne?"

  "I'm worried Father may have to do something drastic to regain control over his country," Rhys said. "He's already been fighting back against pressure from the hawkish ministers. You know, the ones who think we should be more aggressive against Rave. If Father gets knocked off his throne, they're the ones who'll step up in his place."

  "How much worse could they be?" I asked.

  "Try bombing Veres, where your girlfriend lives," Rhys replied. "Hasn't been bombed in fifteen years. Neither have any of the major Raven cities. Most of the attacks have been on Raven armories and weapons to stifle their production so they don't retaliate against us. Some of the ministers think it's time to launch another major offensive." He ran a hand through his hair. "But if Father does that, he risks alienating the ministers who want peace, as well as Jervan and Herin. They're just as eager to see him deposed."

  "So let's depose him and put them on the throne," I offered. "War over."

  "Sure, and the Kylaen economy will go into a tailspin from the sudden drop in revenue," Rhys said. "The war puts almost a third of our country to work, and another third indirectly. If we just stop...the country will implode. And then the citizens will revolt, and the ministers will be the least of our problems." He slumped down into the desk chair. "So now we have to close the second biggest employer of our people because you decided to go rogue. Without barethium, our building and weapons industries will collapse."

  I paced in front of the door, glancing out at the guards who had no idea what they were doing. "Rhys, we'll figure it out. That's what we do as leaders. We make tough decisions. Keeping this place open just because it's politically difficult...go out there and tell those kids that."

  "Trust me, I'm with you on this. But you need to consider the consequences of just acting without talking to someone first. You aren't some nobody who can move in a vacuum. You've got more eyes on you than you know."

  "Well, I'm not leaving until this place closes," I said. "And I don't regret my actions."

  "You'll be pleased to hear that I've been authorized to give the order to stop production, and begin the process of moving prisoners," Rhys said, holding up a hand to silence me. "We'll review files and release those with minor crimes, and transfer others."

  I closed my eyes in relief. "I did it."

  "You certainly did something," Rhys replied. "Mom wants you back in the castle. Tonight."

  "No way," I said, shaking my head. "I can get more done when I don't live under the same roof as him."

  "And he can do more to you," Rhys replied. "This isn't over between you and him. You've won this battle, but he's planning on winning the war."

  "Yeah, well, he hasn't won the Madion War in fifty years, so I'm not holding my breath," I replied with a smile before my low blood sugar washed over me. "You don't have any food with you, do you?"

  He reached into his pocket and tossed me a bag of peanuts. "Have you grown soft, Gally? Didn't you and Theo used to go days without eating?"

  I inhaled the bag and tossed it aside. "You think she's heard about this?"

  "I think everybody has heard about this." He held his hand out to me. "Come on. Let's go have our photo op and make the announcement so I can get the hell out of here."

  FOURTEEN

  Theo

  Grieg Shuts Down Death Camp

  Two tears slipped down my face and I pressed my fingertips to the grainy photo of my amichai and his brother, standing in front of Mael and announcing that it was closing for good. Galian looked pale and tired, but happy, and I just hoped his brother had been truthful in his agreement to shut down the prison. This newspaper article seemed to indicate it was another empty promise, but...Galian wouldn't have left otherwise.

  His speech had been on replay, and I kept my radio on to listen to it u
ntil I fell asleep. Hearing his voice, knowing that he was talking about me to the world, I was giddy with excitement. And to know that he was fulfilling his promise to me just made my heart swell so much, I might've floated all the way to Kylae. I hadn't had any events for the last two days, so I'd been able to revel in the privacy of my apartment.

  But it was time to return to reality, so I dressed in my jumpsuit and prepared for the deluge of photographers who now camped outside my apartment. I'd thought they would grow tired of waiting, but they photographed me with a great deal of excitement. For my part, I actually smiled at them.

  "Where to, today?" I asked my driver.

  "Platcha," came the reply from the front seat. "You've been going there so much, you might need an office, huh?"

  I grinned, but didn't reply. I'd been spending a lot of time with Bayard since my speech. Although we hadn't really gotten into policy discussions, we'd shared a few short personal conversations in a few of our trips we had ridden together. But now that I'd been partially responsible for the closure of Mael, I expected we'd begin talking a lot more. After all, if Cannon could figure out how to weasel his way in with absolutely no experience in policy or politics, so could I.

  Agustin, the same aide who had seen to me at my last visit to Platcha, was waiting for me at the front of the house and he looked more interested than usual. Predictably, Bayard's schedule had shifted after two weeks on the road, so my meeting with him would have to be squeezed in.

  This time, however, Agustin led me to a small office down the hall from Bayard's. It was empty save a desk, chair, and lamp.

  "I'm not sure when President Bayard will be able to see you today, so you can work from here," Agustin said, flipping on the light. "I'll come get you when it's time."

  I took a seat at the desk, wondering what work Agustin expected me to do, or if he was simply trying to keep me out of the way. I swiveled in the chair and looked out the window, which faced the close-in wall of another wing of Platcha then drummed my hands on the desk.

  "Don't you just look right at home."

  I glanced up to see Cannon in the doorway. He looked more sour than usual; probably because he hadn't been invited along on any of Bayard's appearances. I never really wanted to celebrate someone's defeat, so I smiled and said, "Good morning."

  Cannon did not return my smile as he sauntered into the room. He held a folder in his hands, which he made a big show of flipping through before placing it in front of me. I noticed my name on the outer tab.

  "What's this?"

  "Your medical file."

  My heart fluttered anxiously. "Why do you have my medical file? Aren't those private?"

  "When you're in the spotlight, nothing is private."

  My worry that he'd seen something in Jervan returned. Would he really sit on something this long? Why would he let me flit around the country if he knew? Was he just waiting for the opportune moment?

  "Why do you have my medical file, Cannon?"

  "I was curious about something," he said, lazily scratching his hairless chin. "I never quite understood the particulars of how you ended up in Mael. Would you care to share them with me?"

  "Kylaens were attacking the armory at Vinolas, we realized that the princeling was amongst them. I went after him and my engine redlined." I paused for just a moment. "The Kylaens found me and took me to Mael. I don't see what this has to do with my medical file."

  "You spoke so passionately about the dangers of Mael," Cannon said. "And yet, you don't seem to suffer any lingering ailments. No cancer, not even a cough. Your medical file shows that, besides a lower leg injury and being a little malnourished, you were quite healthy."

  "I sustained the leg injury in the crash."

  "You spoke about chains and long hours," Cannon said thoughtfully, "so if your leg was injured in the crash, how could it have healed properly? Two months of manual labor..."

  "I don't know, Cannon. I'm not a doctor."

  I didn't like how his smile widened, and I hoped it wasn't the inadvertent reference to Galian.

  "And about that crash...your plane went down and you were taken prisoner by the Kylaens."

  I nodded. It was mostly the truth.

  "Why go through the trouble of finding you at all? Why not just let you drown?"

  I narrowed my eyes. "Any particular reason for the investigation? Mael is closed now. Who cares?"

  "Because I don't trust you, that's why," Cannon said. "I've had my doubts about you, kallistrate, since the moment you washed up on our shores. There are too many unanswered questions, too many coincidences. And now Bayard wants to bring you into the cabinet because you gave a speech?"

  "H-he does?" I said, sitting up straighter.

  "Oh, yes, he's all excited about you now. Thinks we could use you to leverage lower wheat tariffs from Jervan, or even get in on some Herin contracts," Cannon said, his tone making it perfectly clear how he felt about my involvement.

  "Cannon, I don't know what you think, but all I want to do is..." I looked beyond him. "End the war so our country can finally start to heal."

  "And see, that is why I'm so interested," Cannon replied. "Why so eager to end the war, kallistrate?"

  "Because we are sending children to die. Because every time I go to these commissioning ceremonies, the pilots look younger and younger. Because it needs to end."

  "And what, pray tell, are you willing to do to end it? Return to Kylaen rule?"

  My mouth fell open. "What gave you that idea?"

  "Did the Kylaens offer you a deal? You would spy for them in exchange for your freedom?"

  "No," I said as firmly as I could. "I escaped."

  "How?" Cannon pressed. "Because to my eyes, the evidence doesn't add up."

  Luckily, a soft rap at my door interrupted my interrogation, and Agustin poked his head in. "Excuse me, Major? Minister Wolfe would like to meet with you for a moment."

  "T-thank you," I said, standing and nodding to dismiss him. Then I turned back to Cannon. "I am no spy for Kylae. But believe me when I say that my goal for being here is to bring an end to this war and to maintain a free and independent Rave. You might want to consider why you're here, Cannon. Because to my eyes, it looks like you're here for your own personal gain. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have meetings to attend."

  Cannon's interest in my medical file sat in the back of my mind as I met with three of Rave's parliamentary ministers. Each of them wanted the same thing: to have me appear with them at their next press conference and to vocalize my support for their initiatives.

  Minister Wolfe was petitioning Bayard and the parliament to increase funding to an air base in his district on the west side of the country. I asked him why he felt that the least-attacked portion of the country deserved to get more money over the western front, and he gave me an excuse about jobs and the economy and then I tuned him out. When he pressed for my support, I told him he would have to check my schedule with Emilie and also made a mental note to tell Emilie to decline his invitation.

  Minister Neb was trying to secure funding for one of the only boarding schools left in Rave, as the roof was in need of repair. While I assured him that I valued education, I told him I'd rather that money go toward building a school in some of the poorer cities, like the one I'd grown up in. When he mentioned how the poorer children would end up being conscripted anyway, I left the meeting without another word.

  The third meeting was the best, though that wasn't saying much. Minister Ula's initiative was to introduce green beans into the military food staples. After pressing him, I found that his good friend had a cannery that was looking to expand his business. Tired from saying no all day, I told him I would seriously consider his offer before leaving to join Agustin in the hall.

  "What's next?" I asked wearily.

  "Bayard's ready for you," he said.

  "Thank God," I said, hoping my chat with him would be void of anything having to do with money or favors.

  Instead of waiting, th
is time, Agustin led me right inside. Bayard was reading at his desk, and told me to take a seat at the ornate table. Before he left, Agustin reached into the small drawer in the table and helped himself and me to a chocolate.

  "So, Theo," Bayard said, putting down the paper. "Great news about Mael."

  I nodded and swallowed. "Have you heard if it's...really closed?"

  "Our sources tell us it's a ghost town now," Bayard replied. "They released sixty percent of the prisoners, and the other forty were transferred to regular prisons."

  Despite being in the office of the president of my country, I slumped in relief.

  Bayard chuckled and stood, crossing the room slowly to join me at the table. "I'm sorry that I had Emilie cancel all your appearances over the weekend. But with Mael closed, it didn't make sense for you to be delivering your speech about a place that's no longer a threat."

  "To be honest...I would rather not speak and have it be closed," I said with a bright smile.

  He winked at me and rolled another chocolate ball down toward me. "But now we have a conundrum. Theo, you are the symbol of Mael, and with Mael closed, what do we do with you?"

  I nearly choked on the chocolate, not bothering to mask my worry. "Sir?"

  "Oh, dear, dear, don't worry. We aren't going to send you back to Vinolas. But I did want to hear your thoughts on your next steps, career-wise."

  I swallowed the bulk of the chocolate. I considered the meetings I'd already had that day, and how each of the ministers had jockeyed for my favor. My voice had weight now, and I intended to use it. "I want to get involved. The Kylaens are showing that they're willing to budge on some major issues—they've closed Mael, they've reduced the number of bombings. I think now might be the time to approach the negotiation table. Try to come to a peace agreement with them. The p-princeling said—"

  "You feel very strongly about peace between Rave and Kylae?"

  I remembered what Cannon had said, and considered my response. "I want a free and independent Rave, but we aren't free as long as we're fighting off the Kylaens. I'm sure that the people of Kylae are weary of war, too."