by Ashley Nixon
She narrowed her eyes. Had he helped them organize this trap? She looked outside the window again. The soldiers there had already taken note of her. They waited to pounce. She felt tears in her eyes and stood straight, lifting her head to her father. “You would let them do this?”
“It will be safer for you if you don’t fight,” he said.
And the soldiers filed in and seized her. The servants watched as she was led outside in her bedclothes. The soldiers helped her into the carriage. Her father had followed them out, but he did not move to accompany her. Even if he had, she wouldn’t have noticed. She did not look back.
She sat across from the man who had received her blade. He glowered at her. The solider had indicated that Datherious had summoned her. Had Tetherion been ruled an unfit king as her father had predicted? Was Datherious calling the shots? If so, what plans did he have for her? Would he imprison her? Would he kill her?
Arriving at the castle was much different this time. Everyone still stared but in a smug way that made Larkin both angry and embarrassed. She was led to the throne room. To her surprise, the doors were open and Tetherion appeared to have visitors. The guards halted her at the entrance, though she wasn’t sure if she could have taken another step. In fact, everything in her being wanted to hide. On the other side of the door, she found familiar faces—those of the Elders, Eva and Tobias. Why where they here?
It was then she realized that Tetherion wasn’t even in the throne room. It was Datherious’s voice that rose, clear and resounding. Her heart fell into her stomach.
“Why would you tell me this?” Datherious’s voice rose.
“Ambassador Rowell has gained too much power. He thinks he can hold the Network over us, defy our rule. Well, we are one step ahead of him. We’re giving you the Network locations, and we declare to you that Barren Reed is an exile to the pirates of Silver Crest. With his association void, you can have no reason to wish ill upon us. We’ll sign new agreements, run stock through the Underground, anything you need.”
This was something she should not be surprised to hear, and yet she couldn’t quite believe it was happening. The Elders were here, betraying Cove and the whole of the pirates of Silver Crest, directly defying the code they swore to uphold. If Eva and Tobias were so fearful for their people, for those who lived on Silver Crest, they would not be here right now.
Datherious’s eyes turned toward the entrance where she stood with the guards. Eva and Tobias’s eyes followed. Eva appeared shrewd, and there was no hint of remorse in her eyes for her betrayal. Tobias seemed resigned, though he had to be. There was no way to take back what they had just done.
“Lady Larkin,” Datherious’s voice was like sharp glass. “It is good that you have arrived, and just in time.”
The soldiers dragged her forward. Their arms pressed into hers painfully. She did not move her own feet.
“I have already heard you are acquainted with Elders Tobias and Eva,” Datherious gestured to them, and Larkin met their gazes. They were both unfriendly, but Eva in particular.
“Yes, I have met them,” she agreed.
“They were just proposing an alliance,” he said. “What do you think of that?”
She didn’t answer.
“Your silence is telling,” he said. “But more telling is the bit of information I was given from Miss Aethea Moore.” Datherious stepped down from his elevated place near the thrones.
“Eva, Tobias, have you ever heard of Relics?”
The two exchanged glances. It was clear they hadn’t.
“Let me enlighten you,” he said. “Relics are devices the Lyrics sometimes used to contain their power. Together, they act as a channel through which even a mortal can wield magic.”
Datherious reached and drew a gold chain from under his shirt. Barren’s compass settled in his hands. “This is Sysara’s Relic. But I should not tell you all this,” he paused to laugh. “But now that I have, there is but one question left to answer: why would I require your services?”
Eva and Tobias began to protest, but Datherious was finished. “Take them all to the dungeons,” he said. “We will have a hanging in the morning.”
The guards dragged her away. Did Datherious mean to hang her too? Did her father know?
Those who stood guard at the entrance laughed at her approach. She stared straight ahead. They threw her in the cell, and she stumbled forward, falling to her knees. She sat there for a moment before turning and sitting on the dirty ground. She was not there long before Eva and Tobias were led into the cell adjacent to hers.
“Your plan didn’t work,” her voice was harsh, but they deserved scorn. She would accept no excuse for their treason. “Surprised?”
Eva glared at her. “You’ve no idea what we’ve been through. You wouldn’t understand why we did it.”
“To hide a little longer?” she said. “The magic you’re dealing with, it cannot go unopposed any longer.”
“Silly girl!” Eva spat. “Magic cannot be opposed! It is best you align with those who can give you protection.”
“So they can hang you?” she responded vehemently. Eva glared. Tobias had moved to sit on the bench in the corner and hung his head in his hands. Larkin turned from them, and moved to sit on the ground on the pile of hay meant to be her bed. While she was angry with them, she hoped someone came to rescue Eva and Tobias. She did not want to see them die.
She lay down on her side and dreamed that Barren and Cove had seized the castle and rescued them.
***
“Get up!” the voice commanded her. She was wrenched from sleep and pushed from her cell. She staggered, almost falling into Eva and Tobias’s cell. She met their gazes. They were weary and darkness pulled under their eyes. She guessed neither had slept that night.
“What’s happening?”
“You’ve got to get ready. There’s gonna be a’hangin’,” the guard said.
Larkin felt the color drain from her face. She was led upstairs where servants waited beside a hot bath. She was made to bathe and dress. Bile rose in her throat when the servant girls beamed as they said, “His Majesty the prince picked this out for you.”
It was a bright red dress, as vibrant as a flame. And when she put it on, it ignited against her skin. It was meant to make her a beacon, a target. She slipped the dress on, and then they arranged her hair, pulling and pinning strands until it cascaded over her shoulder. There was jewelry too, diamonds. They felt heavy against her skin.
When the servants were finished fixing, poking and prodding, they stepped back and admired her. They had no concept of what was happening. She was sure they didn’t even realize she’d spent the night in the dungeon. Their only thought was how lucky she was to have a dress chosen by the prince.
She was escorted downstairs where Datherious, Natherious, and Aethea waited.
Aethea appeared very pleased. She was dressed in a shimmery, emerald green dress, which made her dark features stand out. She and Datherious made a good pair, though unfortunately, the prince only had eyes for Larkin at the moment. She told herself it wasn’t for any other reason than to make her uncomfortable.
“Lady Larkin,” Datherious’s voice rose to her, and he beheld her with satisfaction, his eyes trailing the length of her. Her stomach rolled. “You look lovely.” He extended his hand, and she took it, still confused about what was happening. He guided her forward, out of the castle and to the courtyard where the hanging stage was erected and ready for its victims. They entered the tower and moved up several flights of stairs. Their seats would be on the balcony, which overlooked the gallows from above. So she would not hang today. But that meant Eva and Tobias would.
Why couldn’t her dream come true?
She was made to sit beside Datherious. From this height, she could see the ocean on the horizon. She kept her eyes there, searching for any sign of pirate ships. If not Barren and Cove, perhaps other Elders? Or pirates from Silver Crest? Would they rescue traitors?
In the pavilion below, the crowd gathered. Before she had sailed with pirates, she had hated hangings. She never understood the wish to watch others die, murderers or not. She’d never watched people she knew hang before. Perhaps she could look away when the lever dropped.
The jeers started when Eva and Tobias entered the courtyard. Larkin watched in horror as the two were hit with rocks and rotten vegetables. They were taunted and thrashed. Wasn’t it bad enough that they now walked to their death? They moved up the stairs and filed in under the two nooses. The hangman placed the nooses around their necks like fine jewels. The color drained from Larkin’s face when Eva and Tobias’s gazes met hers.
Datherious leaned close to her, whispering in her ear. His hot breath slithered down her neck. She wanted to lean away, but his words kept her still.
“If you turn away, I will send you to the noose next. It has already been arranged.”
So she kept her eyes glued on Eva and Tobias. Their charges were read by a solider dressed in a fine red suit and golden sash. His voice was diplomatic. No remorse touched his words.
“You have been charged with the crimes of piracy and murder. You have been sentenced to hang by the neck until dead, dead, dead.”
There was no drum. Nothing to count the minutes until their deaths, or soften the blow. In the stark silence, the lever was pulled, and the harsh snap of their necks shot like an arrow through her heart. She gasped, and she squeezed the arms of her chair tight. The bodies twirled on their ropes, and people cheered. Larkin wanted to run, but she didn’t. She stayed as still as stone until Datherious rose to his feet and led her from the balcony.
***
Larkin been returned to her cell promptly after the hangings. She’d immediately began tearing away at the red dress, shrieking as if she were covered in Eva and Tobias’s blood. When she no longer hand the strength to tear the dress, she sat in a pile of tattered fabric and sobbed. She wasn’t sure how long she cried or when she’d fallen asleep, but she awoke when a door slammed in the distance.
The soft rustle of skirts and click of heels became louder. Aethea approached her cell, and Larkin felt her face grow hot with anger. Aethea pursed her lips, as if she were holding in a laugh. Aethea looked like she was prepared to leave. Her skirt was short in the front, and longer in the back. She wore a long jacket, and beneath that was a ruffled shirt. A hat sat cocked to one side upon her head. Her hair had been pinned beneath it, but some curls escaped free.
“Does Datherious know you are a Lyric?” Larkin asked. Perhaps it was still dangerous to be so bold, but the only people in the dungeon who knew what Lyric meant had been Tobias and Eva, and now they were dead.
“No,” she said, and her voice held warning. “Let’s keep our secret.”
“Why not tell him? Are you afraid he will use you?”
“I do not trust mortals,” she said.
“Are you afraid you are not strong enough to fend him off?”
Aethea gave a cold laugh. “I’m strong enough. He is still mortal.”
“But Datherious’s mother was half-Lyric. Surely he can withstand our magic a little better.”
Aethea lifted her head. “I pity you. You’ve lived among mortals so long, you hardly have any understanding of us.”
“I understand that you aren’t as powerful as you lead us to believe,” said Larkin. “If so, you would not have to fight on the level you are. You wouldn’t be in search of the King’s Gold.”
“Well,” her voice was even. “I was not wrong when I said you were smart. But you don’t understand the power of the King’s Gold.”
“I understand you can draw upon all Lyric.”
“Yes, but you haven’t even considered: Why would I, a Lyric who can already draw upon magic, wish to possess the King’s Gold?”
Em had said Aethea merely wanted more power.
“The King’s Gold, when brought together, can be used to resurrect Sysara’s spirit. She will have no body of her own to inhabit, of course, once she is awakened, so she will have to possess the most powerful being nearest her. I intend to be that person.”
Larkin had no words. Now that she remembered, Em had said something like this, but it was brief. Relics are powerful magic...she could raise your mother from the dead. That’s exactly what Aethea had intended to do. “You could stand alongside me,” she continued, and Aethea’s eyes seemed to ignite at the thought. Larkin thought that strange. She’d always considered Aethea as someone who would prefer to be alone. “We might rule together.”
“You seem to misunderstand the point of being Lyric.”
“What? Being a guardian?” she mocked. “Those are the old ways. The world out there is too hostile. We cannot be guardians or we will become slaves again.”
“I will not be a slave,” said Larkin. “But I will not stand beside you.”
Aethea’s face hardened and she stepped away from the bars. “Have it your way,” she said. “But I only offer once.”
Aethea left, and Larkin listened until the heels of the Lyric’s boots faded into silence. She knew little about magic, and even less about resurrection, but she knew nothing good could come of it. Worse, Sysara was the most powerful Lyric to exist. Was anyone alive who could resist her power? Destroy her? And what would Barren do if Sysara’s spirit were to be resurrected? He’d watched one parent die, and lived without the other for so long. Could he do it again?
The carriage door opened for her and she stepped outside under an umbrella held open by one of the footman. She smiled as not long ago, she would not have had the opportunity to enjoy such amenities, but things were changing for her. Beyond the cover of the umbrella, rain poured down, and she took a moment to watch the rivers of water run down the hill and pool at the bottom. She turned to face the two-story house before her. She remembered her initial impressions of the home: she had felt it was nice. Now, after enjoying the splendor of the castle of Maris, it was somehow lackluster and as she moved up the steps to knock on the door, she found herself impatient to leave.
She knocked on the door and waited. The rain continued to pour, and the skirts of her dress were beginning to soak through.
Finally a small, frail girl answered. She was pale, her hair blond. She took note of how similar she appeared to Sara Rosamund, the girl she’d seen on Barren Reed’s ship when she’d sailed with them to Aryndel. The servant led her to the left and through a set of dark doors which opened into the familiar study. There Ben Willow sat, his chair facing the window. His legs were spread apart, his hand resting against his chin. He wore a tan suit, and he did not acknowledge her as she entered.
“Tea ma’am?” The servant’s voice cracked when she spoke, and Aethea snapped her head around to look at her.
“Yes, please,” she said and watched the servant go. Aethea turned to survey Ben again. He was as still as a statue. Aethea set her lips.
“Your servant girl is a frightened little thing,” she said. Pulling off her gloves, she moved toward the fire. She noted the soot that stained the brick, the coal and ash scattered across the hearth, and stepped carefully. She moved so that he was within her sight.
“You could at least acknowledge me,” she said. “I would not have come here had I known you would be silent.”
In response, he began muttering a song. She only caught part of the words, but she straightened as he spoke them, anger welling inside her.
The sea she will deceive me
Lock me up and keep me!
Give no bread to feed me
No drop of drink to ease me
Then he stood quickly and turned toward her, the words he sung louder, harsher, and his gray eyes seemed possessed. She drew away toward the wall, heart beating in her chest as he strode forward.
The sea she will deceive me
Lure me in and keep me!
Give no love to please me
No sight of sun to guide me
The sea she will deceive me
Draw blood and destroy me!
“I gave you everything!” he yelled. “And yet I have seen nothing in return! That was not the agreement! I brought you from obscurity! I made you what you are!”
She smiled, false pity colored her features.
“You gave me everything?” she asked, and pushing the knife against his face, he took a step back. “Half-breed.”
Ben’s eyes widened and he turned to look into the mirror. She watched in pleasure as he touched his face in a fury. “What have you done?” he cried, clawing at his face. Blood pooled down his cheeks, and he took the mirror and threw it at her. She dodged it, and it crashed against the wall, shattering to the floor. “Fix me, Gypsy-Witch! Fix me!”
His voice was raw, and he hardly let his face show, covering as much of it as he could with his hands.
“Did mother hide your face because she was ashamed, Isaac?”
Ben looked up at her, glaring, and she pulsed energy toward him, restoring the illusion that hid his true appearance. He writhed on the floor, seeking to forget the truth of his blood.
“Never forget what I have given you, brother,” said Aethea. “And what I can take away.”
Ben stood slowly then, the fissures he had gouged into his face still ran with blood.
“You have given him everything you promised me,” he said, taking in a breath. “That compass was mine!”
“Don’t look so pitiful,” she chided. “I did give Datherious the compass, but you need not worry. He does not know I intend to resurrect Sysara’s spirit with the Relics, and when her spirit is resurrected, she will possess only the strongest of us. That is me. I will fulfill your wish, half-breed. Until then, we have Datherious’s trust and the songbird caged.”
“How long until her spirit is resurrected?” he asked, retaining some shadow of the man he presented himself as to the world.
“We have only to find two more pieces of the King’s Gold,” she said. “Be patient, dear.”
