by Jordi Burton
And then, the miracle of miracles happened: Durse left his side open. Dani lunged, glancing up just as her blow landed. Durse’s side was braced for impact, but he grunted as though she’d caught him unawares. He flicked his eyes downward, and Dani realized he was guiding her towards the keys hanging at his belt. All it took was a split second, and she understood.
She reached for the keys just as Durse kicked up dust around them. Her fingers closed around the iron hanging from his belt. He hesitated just the briefest of moments before he swung at her. She braced herself just before his blow landed square in the middle of her chest. Flying backwards, she slid through the dirt and slammed into the wall behind her. Rolling towards the wall, as though in pain, she tucked the keys into her belt. Durse roughly pulled her to her feet; she feigned injury.
“Please,” she murmured.
Durse just shoved her towards his men. “Tie her back up. Maybe next time, she’ll be more forthcoming.”
She hung limply as the men tied her rope to the beam. As they left, she watched them through half-closed eyes. For some reason, Durse was pretending to be a part of the Soster. She didn’t know how or why. But what she did know: Durse Follant had given her a way to escape.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
A nastasia sat in bed, glowering. An Obzymian Medicine Man prodded her, while a Viirean doctor listened to her heart with a stethoscope. Not even twenty-four hours after Joey’s attack, King Tamo had put the High Council to a vote, forcing them to evaluate Anastasia’s health and her ability to rule. She knew precisely what they would find, and the look on her father’s face confirmed it. But it was more than just her epilepsy that ailed her. Her closest friend had nailed her upside down to a post, plunged a syringe into her back, and left her to die.
Her father and Valdon hadn’t taken that news well, either. In fact, Valdon hadn’t said much since, while her father’s anger was never far from the surface. They were all frustrated.
The Viirean doctor cleared his throat and stepped back, letting Mistress Miglune step forward. Though she’d been able to heal what Joey had done to her, at least physically, Anastasia knew the royal physician would be unable to cure the problem in her brain.
She wanted to scream. First William had been arrested, and now this. She’d be deemed unfit to rule, she knew. And she had no husband, no heir. Rule would go to Sona, and, in turn, Mohan. For the first time in all of history, a Nadmilise wouldn’t be on the Jacquelinian throne. She swallowed back tears at the thought. Now wasn’t the time to wallow. No, now was the time for anger, bright and all-consuming.
“Tell King Tamo I demand to see him,” she told the Hullenian jhakri.
As he left, Anastasia looked at Valdon. He met her gaze, and she saw her own hopelessness reflected in his dark blue eyes. She swore under her breath.
Pulling away from the Medicine Man, she demanded, “Are you quite finished?”
The Medicine Man inclined his head. “Yes, Princess.”
Crossing her arms, she glared at them as they left. She knew she was acting like a child, but, honestly, she didn’t care. These were the final moments she had left as the Crown Princess of Jacqueline. She didn’t want to spend them surrounded by healers.
“Tamo will call the Council tonight,” Valdon said.
Anastasia nodded. “Alright.”
“We can fight this, my heart,” her father intoned. “There must be another way.”
“Tamo has wanted me removed since I first started having premonitions. And, this time, he’s right. I have seizures. It is unsafe for me to rule.”
“Don’t say that.”
Valdon lowered his gaze but didn’t contribute anything. Anastasia wrapped her arms around herself, sinking back into her pillows. What would become of them when she was found unfit? Would they have to leave the castle? Leave Sehir? Sona and Mohan were their friends. They would give them as much leniency as they could. But would it be enough?
Before she could voice any of her concerns, however, a guard entered and drew her father outside. Valdon just stood silently at the foot of her bed. She wanted a reaction from him, anger, sorrow, despair… but there was only silence.
“Why didn’t I see this?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
That was such a fitting answer. For as long as she’d known him, Valdon had always held all the answers. He knew how to find her grandmother, he knew all about the premonitions, he knew the right herbs and remedies to heal. But he didn’t know how to fix this mess. It seemed his reign of wisdom had finally come to an end.
Her father’s voice carried through the door as he shouted angrily. Confused, Anastasia threw back her covers. Valdon helped her to stand, leading her to the door. She opened it and stared at her father.
She’d seen Elliot Piliar livid only four times in her life. One was when she was really little, and she’d gone missing outside. The second was when she’d snuck out of the house and nearly been captured by a Shadow. The third had been the night they returned to Sehir. And the fourth was the day they’d been attacked by rebels during the Head Warrior tournament. But this? She’d never seen him like this before. He paced back and forth, looking ready to throttle the guard beside him. Anastasia was so surprised, she took a step back.
“You cannot be serious!” Elliot thundered. “Who does he think he is?”
The guard cowered. “I don’t know, Your Majesty.”
Valdon braved Elliot’s wrath, putting a hand on the King’s shoulder. He hardly even registered the touch. “What’s happened?”
“Tamo is claiming Niboki is to succeed Anastasia.”
Anastasia sucked in a breath. “What?”
“The High Council voted, almost a year ago, to give Aatu partial control of Jacqueline. When he and Anastasia were married, a clause was put into their marriage contract that stated if anything should happen to Anastasia, rule would fall to Aatu.”
Valdon nodded. “We knew this. As he was her husband, he should have the right to rule.”
“Yes, well,” Elliot seethed, “apparently, Tamo has made it so the clause remained in effect, even after Aatu’s death. As Niboki is succeeding Aatu, and he was engaged to Anastasia—”
“He can take the throne,” Anastasia breathed.
A sharp ringing in Anastasia’s ears blocked out whatever her father and Valdon said next. Niboki was taking the High Council and Jacqueline from her. No. That wasn’t right. Tamo was taking them from her. As retribution for Aatu’s death. She shuddered. She knew he would show them no mercy. She and her family would be cast out; everything they ever had would be taken from them. He’d backed them into a corner. Vaguely, it dawned on her that this was perhaps the reason Aylen made it easy for her to call off her engagement to Niboki. But she’d never thought her to be so callous before.
Turning, Anastasia made her way down the corridor. She didn’t stop, even when her father and Valdon called after her. She just kept walking, putting one foot in front of the other, until she reached the dungeons.
At the bottom of the staircase, the guards stood at attention, bowing to her. If they knew anything about Tamo’s plan, they didn’t say. They just stared at her, their eyes quickly flicking to and from her ankles. But there was nothing to see, nothing left over from Joey’s attack. No, those wounds were internal, wringing her heart until she was sure there was nothing left.
“Open William Dinas’ cell,” she commanded.
The guards traded surprised looks. “Are you sure, Your Highness? He was arrested for—”
“I know full well why he was arrested.”
She didn’t ask again. One of the guards stepped forward, unlocking the door. Anastasia strode inside, tears already stinging her eyes. William turned as she entered, surprise filling his face. Wordlessly, Anastasia threw herself into his arms. He held her tightly, not saying a word.
“Niboki is going to be named the Crown Prince of Jacqueline.”
William swallowed. “I get gray
ed out in a week.”
“I have epilepsy.”
“The guards took the dagger you gave me.”
Stepping back, they looked at each other. So many emotions flooded Anastasia, she couldn’t understand how she felt. Instead of speaking, William drew her to him. Tucking herself under his arm, she sat. He slid down the wall beside her, holding her close. They said nothing. Anastasia wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, wordlessly staring at the door to his cell. But she didn’t think she’d felt so peaceful in quite a long time.
It was dark when her father came for her. He looked between them as they stood, brushing hay from their clothes. Glancing between them, he held out his hand. William shook it, a mutual understanding passing between them. He had Elliot’s blessing.
Trying, and failing, not to cry, Anastasia followed her father from the dungeons. They made their way to the High Council chambers, where everyone was already seated, waiting. She took a look at their faces, taking in the way none of them met her eyes, and knew. Tamo had succeeded. Niboki was the next ruler of Jacqueline.
“Anastasia,” Sona murmured.
But Tamo cut her off. There was no preamble. “You have been declared unfit to rule.”
Sona wiped a tear as she got to her feet. “It is hereby this Council’s duty to remove you of your title and position. You are no longer the Crown Princess of Jacqueline.”
Hearing the words felt worse than imagining them. She felt hollow on the inside, carved out, her insides on display for them all to see. But she didn’t cry. She didn’t do much of anything. Even when guards stepped forward and grabbed her, even when her father resisted them, even when Tamo shouted that they were all to be confined to their chambers, she did nothing. She let the guards lead her back to her room. She let Lili help her into bed.
Curled on her side, eyes trained on the lamp on the far wall, she didn’t even pray to the Gods and Angels. Her mind turned with images of Tamo and Niboki sitting in her parents’ thrones, of them sitting at their dining table, in their studies. And yet, still, she didn’t move.
She wasn’t sure she’d ever move again.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
T he week went by in a haze. Servants came and went, bringing food and water, but no one else entered. Even Lili stayed away. But none of it mattered to Anastasia. She sat, staring out her window at what had once been hers, watching the days slip away. She hadn’t so much as uttered a single word since Tamo had her locked in her rooms, but her mind turned constantly. It felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop, wondering what his next move would be. Where would they go if they were exiled from Sehir? Nothing was certain. But it was only a matter of time before she and her family were made an example of.
What did that mean of her premonitions? She hadn’t paid enough attention, then, but she’d always pictured herself as the Princess of Jacqueline still. Thinking back, she remembered seeing her reflection standing in the throne room, but that didn’t mean anything. In fact, none of her premonitions gave her any impression that she was still the Princess.
Wringing her hands, Anastasia stared down at the gardens. She traced the hedges of flowers with her eyes, lost in her thoughts. When the door opened, and a number of Hullenian guards strode inside, she hardly paid them any mind.
“Anastasia, you must come with us.”
It took her a moment to realize they were speaking to her. Slowly, she turned, taking in their rust-colored trousers and brown, calf-length kurta tunics. It was so strange to see them in her home, to have them hold authority over her. She just blinked, struggling to understand why they were standing in her chambers.
“King Tamo demands it.”
At the mention of his name, Anastasia’s stomach clenched. She grimaced, stepping forward, feeling herself slowly fill with a simmering rage; it paled in comparison with the hopelessness inside.
After a week of being confined to her chambers, Anastasia was allowed to leave. She let Lili dress her in a beautiful summer gown. But there was no tiara. When the guards came and unlocked her door, they didn’t meet her gaze. She held her head high, despite her shame and sorrow. They led her down the corridor. There were already subtle changes within the castle, such as the vases and tapestries from the Hullenian castle. Anything to do with Anastasia’s family or their history had been removed.
When they rounded the corner to the throne room, realization dawned on Anastasia. “No, please.”
The guards showed no mercy. “You will join us.”
“I can’t.”
“You will.”
The head guard pulled his dagger from his belt and leveled it at her. She was so stunned by the movement that she complied, moving towards the doors. She’d never before been threatened in such a manner within her own home. The startling reality made her head spin. Was this to be Niboki’s rule? Threaded with fear and intimidation? Was that how her people would be treated?
Working not to cry, she followed the guards into the throne room. Most of Sehir was in attendance, their eyes trained on where Tamo sat on the throne, Niboki by his side. But their gazes were hostile, their silence radiated tension. She caught their furtive glances and wondered, was it anger for what was happening today, or for what had happened to her family? Perhaps it was both. Today was certainly a difficult day for Sehir.
When her people saw her, they resolutely rose and bowed to her. She was emboldened by their loyalty, and this time, she did cry.
“Be seated!” Tamo demanded.
Her people didn’t oblige. Instead, they turned to her. Only after she nodded to them did they take their seats. A little thrill went through her at the sight. But it lasted about as long as it took the guards to seat her at the front of the room beside her father and Valdon. She would get a front row seat for the happenings.
At a wave of Tamo’s hand, the doors to the throne room opened with a clang. More guards marched William inside; Anastasia’s heart plummeted.
When they reached the end of the room, the guards forced William to his knees. Anastasia couldn’t help but remember when he’d been there for his sentencing. Then, he’d refused to meet her gaze, staring defiantly ahead. Now, all he did was look at her. She wanted to go to him, protect him from this, but she’d never felt so helpless, not even when her premonitions were taken from her. Her hands were tied.
“William James Dinas!” Tamo’s voice was uncomfortably loud in the silent room. “You have been found guilty of desertion and conspiracy to commit treason against the Crown of Jacqueline! As punishment for your crimes, you shall be stripped of your title as a warrior apprentice.”
He waved his hand and Valdon rose. But William didn’t look away from Anastasia. He seemed desperate to not break eye contact.
“Just look at me,” she mouthed. “Keep looking at me.”
Valdon raised his hands; his fingers crackled with dark blue magic. Anastasia’s stomach clenched. It wasn’t fair. This was the end of William’s dreams, all because he’d gone with her to find her grandmother. None of this was right.
Steeling herself, she leapt to her feet. At that moment, three things happened simultaneously: Tamo shouted for guards to apprehend her, Valdon reached for William, and an explosion shook the castle.
Everyone within the hall halted. As one, they turned towards the windows, and Anastasia knew they were expecting the invisible shields to be crumbling away once again. But this time, it looked as though the sky itself was falling, large chunks dropping to the ground. It didn’t make logical sense. How could the sky fall? How could it crumble like fractured stone?
Another explosion, this one much closer, rocked the castle. People stumbled and yelled. Anastasia fell backwards, her mind struggling to come to terms with what was happening. William reached for her but was held back by his manacles. The ceiling above them cracked, flecks of rock and dust trickling down. A third explosion rocked the castle; more screams rose up from the people. The floor beneath them rumbled ominously. Anastasia pushed herself to her feet
, grabbing at her father.
The rumble beneath their feet grew. Everyone froze, looking down at the floor as a crack fissured its way through the room. A moment later, it crumbled beneath them, plummeting them into darkness below.
A scream tore from Anastasia’s throat as she fell. The landing was hard. She jarred herself, rolling unceremoniously through the rubble. Cries of pain and fear filled the room below. Dust clouded the air. Anastasia coughed, struggling to draw breath. People called out to one another. More explosions shook the castle, making it near impossible to gain any footing.
“Dad!” Anastasia yelled. “William!”
The walls around them shook, large chunks falling away. It looked just as it had outside, their surroundings disintegrating into nothing. For a moment, Anastasia considered that she was simply asleep upstairs in her room, for what she saw defied logic.
A loud boom sounded, and it was like someone had taken a hammer to reality, shattering it like glass. The walls, the floor, the windows cracked and melted, raining down into nothingness.
And then the people started to shatter.
She screamed again in earnest, but her voice was lost among the thunderous rumbling. Turning around and around, she struggled to see, to orient herself in her surroundings. Everything was crumbling, breaking, falling away until nearly nothing remained. Panic fluttered in her chest, threatening to overwhelm her. What was this? What was happening?
“Anastasia!” William shouted.
She spun, reaching for him. He staggered across the uneven floor, stumbling in his haste to get to her. But they were too far apart. She cried out in horror as he fissured, chunks of him breaking off. He melted before her eyes, melding with the ruins around her.
Unadulterated fear gripped her. All reason left her mind as she looked at the utter nothingness around her. Blackness creeped into her vision. Looking down, she saw herself cracking like dropped china. Falling to her knees, she shrieked. It was a sound of complete terror. But that was no use against the vanishing world. She seemed to break into a thousand pieces, ripped through reality.
