The King's Questioner

by Nikki Katz

  And he walked away, leaving everyone staring after him.

  CHAPTER

  5

  Kalen fought the desire to follow Cirrus, knowing the prince had to be shocked over the unlocked memory. He himself had lost a sibling.

  A sibling. A princess. A prophecy. There were so many things at stake. Kalen swallowed hard. The king couldn’t discover that Kalen had unlocked the memory, or that Cirrus now knew. Especially since he’d never heard of a prophet sorcier. What had ever happened to the woman in white? The king must have banished her as well.

  “Your Grace.”

  The king turned toward him. “Yes, Kalen?”

  “I saw nothing of note inside the prince’s mind. Other than the usual hostility toward me, of course.” He gave a self-deprecating smile. “He seems to have all of his wits and thoughts intact.”

  “Thank you for helping.” The king turned toward the doorway. “I wish I knew why you two fell out of favor with one another.”

  “I can answer that.” The king’s attention swung to Kalen as if he wondered about the memory. “I’m the better swordfighter.” Kalen’s lips pulled into an even broader grin, and the king’s shoulders relaxed.

  “You two were such great friends. And then you weren’t. Hopefully someday you can sort it out. It would be nice for Cirrus to have someone he can trust on his side.”

  Kalen took the last gulp of tea and nodded. “I agree.” He tipped his head in acknowledgment. “I’d best be going.”

  “Of course.” The king waved him toward the door. “I will see you around, I’m certain.”

  And I’m certain you’ll make sure of it.

  Kalen stepped out of the chambers and walked steadily down the hall, though his pulse leaped and his legs itched to run. He couldn’t put enough distance between himself and the king. The king had to wonder what Kalen had seen and why Cirrus had reacted the way he had.

  Kalen followed the hallways through the servants’ quarters and out the side door to the supply path and gate. With a nod at the sentry, he passed through and into the forest beyond.

  He avoided the trail, and as soon as he was within the dense cover of trees, he wove a meandering course through the brush that he could have followed with his eyes closed. And he had as a child, when the forest was a daily exploration. Step over the fallen log here, push away the jutting branch there, sidestep the never-ending puddle here, and leap over the stream right there. Now he only walked this path when he needed to be alone in the fresh air to gather his thoughts.

  The sun had started to set, and the western sky pulsed with pinks and yellows, visible when he stepped into a small clearing that opened in front of him. A soft bed of grass covered the ground, and a circle of flat, gray boulders lay scattered at the center of the open space. He sprawled on his back across one of them, one boot on the rock’s surface and the other planted on the ground.

  His arm draped across his forehead, and his eyelids sank closed. The thunder of his pulse slowed to an easy rhythm as the sounds of the forest settled around him.

  A snap of a branch.

  Kalen quickly sat upright. Cirrus stood at the edge of the clearing. His hair was slicked to his scalp like he had dunked it in the water tub. He probably had.

  “I figured I’d find you here.”

  “I figured you’d come.” This was the spot it had all happened, when Kalen had first found the door in Cirrus’s memory. It was only fitting they have this discussion here.

  Cirrus shifted his weight side to side and then walked closer. He lowered himself to sit on one of the rocks and glanced up at the moon. His long legs stretched in front of him. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Finally, he spoke.

  “So,” said the prince.

  “So.” Kalen felt sorry for Cirrus, but he still felt a significant amount of tortuous history between the two of them. He wasn’t about to orchestrate the conversation.

  “Do you think it was true?”

  “Yes.” Kalen answered before Cirrus had even closed his mouth.

  “Why?”

  Kalen contemplated the best way to explain. “Some people have a way of remembering thoughts or events in a manner that may not be true, but I can always tell. There’s a hue or haze over the entire memory, and the words coming from their mouths don’t match what they are saying.” He paused. “I don’t see thoughts the way the world is around us. There are magnified colors and shapes and senses.” Cirrus’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, so Kalen returned to the original question. “Your memory held nothing that would cause suspicion. Plus, it was hidden away when you were too young to manipulate it. I have no doubt that what we saw is the truth.”

  Cirrus took a deep breath. He pulled his legs back toward him and leaned over to curl into himself. “Bloody crow … I have a sister.”

  Kalen stayed silent and allowed Cirrus to continue to process this development.

  “I have a sister, and she has magick. But what is her ability?”

  Kalen stared at him until Cirrus lifted his head to look him in the eyes. “You tell me. It looked like she was strangling you.”

  Cirrus shook his head. “She wasn’t strangling me.” He said it as if it were an impossibility, the mere idea of someone with their hands around his neck. “I remember feeling sad about my mother, seeing the baby, and suddenly being a hundred times more distraught. I couldn’t breathe through the anguish, felt like I was choking on it.”

  “Something to do with controlling emotions.” Kalen drummed his fingers against his lips. “You were sad, and those feelings heightened. The ability might have had to do with enhancing emotions.”

  “But my mother. She was happy to have the baby in her arms; then suddenly she was panicked and fell.”

  “Perhaps the princess projected her own emotions.” For some reason, Kalen’s thoughts turned to the captain’s chest, which seemed to have cast an emotion of anger on the crew. He wondered briefly if the two were connected.

  “Is that possible?” Cirrus arched an eyebrow. Kalen imagined the prince hated the idea, hated all of it as much as he hated Kalen’s own magick. “Her ability could be that strong, that young?”

  “I don’t know,” Kalen said.

  “Do you think she’s still alive?” Cirrus feigned nonchalance, but Kalen heard the shift in his voice, a wishful undertone beneath the words.

  Kalen swung his legs to the side so he faced Cirrus. “The prophet said she would bring destruction to the kingdom, which hasn’t happened yet, so I’m guessing she’s still alive.”

  “That’s not necessarily true.” Cirrus grabbed a stick and began drawing overlapping circles in the dirt. “Prophecies aren’t always what they seem.” He glanced up. “You know I was forced to study all this.”

  Kalen shrugged a nonanswer. He didn’t know. How would he have known? They both knew he hadn’t been the prince’s confidant for a while now.

  “Anyway,” Cirrus continued, “if I’m understanding the prophet’s words correctly, sending the princess away would mean destruction of the kingdom. But that could mean decades from now. Hundreds of years from now. Perhaps she meets someone and has a child who ends up waging war against Mureau.” He made an x in one of the circles. “Or maybe she was banished to another kingdom, where she accidentally killed someone. They beheaded her at the age of five but eventually will discover she was the princess, and they then band together to seek revenge on Mureau.” He added an x to another circle. “She might be alive or dead. There are dozens of possible scenarios. Hundreds even. The prophecy was merely based on the act of banishing her from the kingdom.”

  Kalen nodded. “Valid points. I’m impressed.”

  Cirrus raised an eyebrow and combed back the dried hair now falling into his eyes. “Do you change your answer now?”

  “No. I don’t.” Kalen paused. “I don’t think she’s dead, because somehow I think you would know. I can’t imagine how you must feel having only now learned you have a sister somewhere out there. But
I feel you would’ve known something was amiss if she had died.” He had no idea if what he said was true, but he knew it was what the prince wanted to hear.

  “I wish…” Cirrus stood.

  “Yes?”

  “Nothing. Never mind.”

  Kalen chewed at his lip as he pondered his next steps. Did he want to get involved with this? He risked much. “Do you want to find your sister?”

  “Of course I do.” Cirrus paced across the clearing and spun around. “The prophecy says her banishment would end in the kingdom’s destruction. Maybe if we bring her back, that will all be negated.”

  “You just said we couldn’t change things, that there was no way to decipher the meaning.”

  “But what if we can?”

  Kalen did feel an urge to learn the truth in this matter, as he had in all matters in his life. But he could not deny that self-preservation was the stronger motivation. In the secreted memory, the king appeared willing to do anything to conceal knowledge of the princess … anything. Including disposing of the prophet. Kalen had an increasingly unsettling suspicion that, despite his value as the questioner, he would be an easy casualty if the king found out he knew what had transpired on the night of the queen’s death. But if Kalen could use the girl as collateral against his own life, or at least proof against the judgment of the royal council, he might walk away with his head.

  And most importantly, Kalen knew he was the best man for the job. He was used to uncovering secrets.

  “I’ll help you find her.” Kalen stood.

  “I don’t need your help.” Cirrus crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You’ll just get in the way.”

  Kalen ignored him. “I know a place to start seeking answers here.” He would find Captain Belrose before his ship sailed back to Antioege, whether Cirrus wanted his help or not. “In the meantime, you need to placate your father,” Kalen said. “I don’t know what anger you might have toward him and the lie he’s kept all this time—however, he can’t have even the slightest idea that you now know the truth. It impacts me as well, because if you know, then I know.”

  Kalen was sure the prince didn’t care much about what happened to his former friend, but Kalen valued his own life too much to linger in Mureau.

  Kalen turned away from Cirrus and pushed through the foliage at the edge of the clearing. He glanced over his shoulder. “Return to the castle, and I’ll see what I can dig up. Meet me here at midnight.”

  And he let the branches close behind him.

  * * *

  “I HAVE A proposition for you. But first I need to know what happened last week.” Kalen stared at Luna, hoping she had an explanation.

  He liked to check in, from time to time, on some of the subjects he’d questioned. Those who acted out in untoward manners—but hadn’t quite committed crimes against the throne that warranted being thrown in the dungeon. This last visit had been to a reformed wife beater. Kalen had found the memories while questioning him for Ryndel and now dropped by on occasion to make sure the man stayed on the right side of morality. He would need to start doing the same with Marcella, or have Terrack follow up if he went off in search of the missing princess.

  The only problem with this last visit had been Luna disappearing from her lookout position while Kalen dove into the man’s memories. He wanted to know why.

  He and Luna sat opposite each other in an opium-hazed corner of the lounge situated at the front of the brothel run by Luna’s mother. It was still early enough in the evening that they had the room mostly to themselves. Kalen sipped a hot tea while Luna gulped a frothy, pale pink concoction. Her cloaked sleeve slipped down her arm as she lowered the glass.

  “I wondered when you’d ask.”

  “I wondered when you’d offer.” Kalen set his cup on a table and stared at her.

  She sighed. “My sister.”

  “What about her?”

  “I was at the lookout point, and she appeared. Mother was in trouble again, a patron that wouldn’t leave at the appropriate time.” She took another sip. “I figured you were okay. I knew you were okay. Everything was going as planned, and I honestly didn’t think you’d ever find out.”

  She was right. They rarely reconvened immediately after a job. Except this time, he had almost gotten caught. And he’d gone to look for her.

  “Why didn’t you give the signal? I would have left with you.”

  Her skin flushed, as much as it could with its strange tones. “I handled it myself.”

  “Luna, I can’t have that happen again. I put you on lookout for a reason. His wife got home early.”

  She bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know if I can forgive you so easily if it happens again.”

  “But I’m forgiven now.” She winked and loudly slurped the rest of the drink. “That’s all that matters.”

  Suddenly a small ball of twisted dark hair and tiny limbs raced into the space and attacked Kalen in a hug.

  “How are you?” Kalen ran a gloved hand through Amya’s tangles. She had none of Luna’s silvered features, which wasn’t surprising, as they had different fathers, and Luna most certainly took after her dad.

  “She’s tryin’ to make me read again.” Amya hooked a thumb at her sister and stuck out her tongue. “I don’t wanna. Books are for ninnies.”

  “Ignorance is for ninnies.” Luna shook her head. “Will you talk some sense into her, please?”

  “Your sister is right, Amya. How about I find you some more interesting books to read. Say, ones that have fighting and magick?”

  “Yes!” Amya thrust a small fist into the air. “She be making me read poetry. It’s all a bunch of gibberish.”

  Luna ignored her. “What’s the proposition?”

  Kalen glanced to the girl and then to Luna. “Are you able to leave for a bit of time if needed?”

  “Depends on the why.”

  “No, you can’t go.” Amya’s lips trembled, and her large eyes welled with tears as she stared at her sister.

  Kalen knew Luna would feel guilty about leaving Amya behind.

  “Terrack will come hang out with you,” Kalen said to Amya. He knew the girl had a fondness for the giant. “And I’ll bring you the books I promised. Deal?”

  She managed a valiant smile. “Deal.”

  “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed?” Luna urged her sister away.

  “Where’s Baba?” Kalen asked. He had given her a stuffed sheep years ago, and she slept with it most nights.

  “In bed.”

  “I think I hear him. He needs some company.” Kalen lowered her to the ground and rose to his feet. Luna stood beside him and watched as Amya ran off down the hall, past two girls lounging in doorways who ruffled her hair.

  “Why does she always listen to you?” Luna shook her head.

  “Because I’m not family.”

  Jezebel, with her short skirt and legs that stretched for yards, walked past and kissed Kalen on the cheek. She knew he wouldn’t touch her. He wouldn’t touch any of the girls, and they all knew it.

  “Are you kidding me?” Luna choked. “Not family?”

  Madam had taken him in after his parents disappeared, when he had wanted nothing to do with the king’s offer of a room at the castle. While he’d loved the attention and friendship that had surrounded him at Madam’s, he hadn’t gotten much sleep, what with the doors opening and shutting, and the rehearsed laughter of the girls. A year later and he had moved into the castle room where he still resided.

  Luna reached out and rubbed something off his cheek, most likely a smudge of lip stain. “So you’ve convinced my sister that I can leave her. But you haven’t convinced me. That why again?”

  Kalen rubbed at his key. “Honestly, Luna, I don’t want to tell you too much yet. I’m worried for my own safety—”

  Her forehead furrowed. “That doesn’t sound good, but you know I don’t ever divulge secrets.”

  “There are ways to torture someone
, you know.”

  “Why not go to the king with this?” she asked.

  “That’s the problem…” His voice trailed off.

  Her eyes widened. “So it’s finally happened, as I always said it would. He turned against you?”

  “Not yet, but I do fear him discovering what I’ve learned.”

  “So where are we headed?”

  “I’m not exactly sure yet.” He motioned for her to walk ahead of them to the door. The air was cool and crisp, a delicious contrast against the smokiness inside. “First thing I want to do is to meet up with a certain captain I was forced to investigate yesterday.”

  “We’re not going sailing, are we?” Her skin turned a shade of green in the cast of the flickerfly lamps as they walked down the street. Luna was not a fan of boats.

  “There’s a pretty good chance the answer is yes. Second thoughts?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll figure out something. There’s always ginger root and passion flower.” She patted her cloak, where Kalen knew a myriad of items sat tucked away in hidden pockets.

  Kalen began a meandering path toward the docks as he filled her in on the captain and his strange chest. He wanted to further question Belrose about the chest and where he’d obtained it. The projection of emotion seemed distinctly similar to that of the princess, especially in the indigo color of the tension. He wondered if the two were related and would give them a good place to start looking.

  A spray of mist dotted his cheeks, and the scent of fish and salt filled his nose and throat. The shops and bars gave way to warehouses, until finally the sea spread wide before them. Kalen immediately spotted the single black Antioegen ship, anchored well offshore. They walked farther down the dock, and Kalen stopped short, his arm thrown out in warning to Luna.

  “What?” She nudged his arm away.

  It was the sailor who had killed his shipmate aboard Belrose’s ship. He paced back and forth, pausing every few seconds to look out toward the ship and then the city. He spotted Kalen and froze.