The Almost King

by Lucy Saxon

  39

  Aleks was starting to go spare when two days later he still couldn’t leave the inn, and nor could Drazan. He’d heard from Raina that Luka was having similar problems leaving his shop. Apparently, the first video about Karana was just the beginning, and since then there had been interviews with scientists, mechanics and weather experts about the land beyond the Stormlands. Everyone seemed to want to get their point of view heard, though the three people whose views the public actually wanted to hear were notably absent; himself, Drazan and Luka. There was some amusing footage of interviewers turning up at Luka’s workshop, only to be threatened with what the old mechanic claimed to be a deadly weapon, but Aleks knew was merely a partially completed toaster.

  Most of the news was speculation, though Aleks was surprised to hear that three expeditions to the Stormlands had already been sent out to confirm their findings. Surely they didn’t think they’d have much luck in normal-sized skyships? Even in Luka’s ship they hadn’t all survived the journey. Guilt curled in Aleks’s stomach, but he pushed it away; the people going out there did so by their own choice. It wasn’t his fault. And if they did get through, well . . . he could only hope they didn’t run into Kara, or they certainly wouldn’t be making it back.

  He and Drazan couldn’t stay hiding forever, he knew. The public were hungry for more news, and he worried they’d start getting impatient if he left them waiting much longer. Saria managed to visit occasionally, but most of his time was spent playing chess in his room with Drazan and wishing everything would go back to normal. Raina, his ever faithful messenger, brought them reports on the latest from the newscasts, and at last check they were calling Aleks the Common King. Drazan’s predictions were right, to an extent. Several people were insisting he be given some measure of power along with his title, despite having no one under his rule and no land to base his kingdom in. It was a nice gesture of support, but Aleks wished they would settle down and leave him be.

  Having been in his room most of the day, Aleks frowned at Drazan when they both heard yelling from downstairs. He glanced at the pocket watch resting on the corner of his desk; it was far too early in the evening for the drunks to be rowdy. Getting to his feet when the noise got louder, he dared to venture downstairs. Drazan followed curiously, staying back several paces. Aleks’s eyes widened when he saw three uniformed guardsmen in the middle of the pub, directing everyone to stand against the wall.

  He hesitated at the bottom of the stairs, wondering if the guards were just there on Bodan’s behest to clear the rabble outside. Then one of them turned and spotted him. ‘There he is, sir!’ the guard exclaimed, and the man beside him turned, his gaze narrowing when he saw Aleks. Shulga.

  ‘Long time no see, brat,’ the lieutenant spat. Aleks flinched. ‘You foolish boy, becoming such a celebrity. Did you really think I would let things go?’ He paused, drawing a pair of handcuffs from his belt. ‘Aleksandr Vasin, you’re under arrest for the unauthorised flight of an illegal vehicle, desertion from the military, theft, and destruction of government property.’ Aleks froze, swallowing thickly. Drazan drew closer behind him, but Aleks shook his head a fraction. He didn’t want his friend getting involved.

  ‘Destruction of government property?’ he asked with raised brows, sounding far calmer than he felt. Shulga smirked.

  ‘That fence you broke,’ he pointed out. ‘Yes, we found it eventually. Fixed it up nice and new, so no one else will be getting through there in future.’ Aleks snorted under his breath; they really were trying to pin everything they could on him, weren’t they? He could see Raina standing wide-eyed in fright behind the bar, her face pale, and he wished they had cornered him at Luka’s.

  ‘It’ll be best if you come quietly,’ Shulga told him, looking positively delighted as he wrenched Aleks’s arms behind his back, cuffing him far too tightly. Bodan moved to protest, but his wife held him back, her hand on his arm. Aleks was glad; they didn’t need to pay the price for his mistakes.

  ‘I want to talk to Luka,’ Aleks said, tugging against the cuffs. His files had been destroyed; they had no proof of his desertion. They couldn’t hold him.

  ‘We’ll make sure to let him know,’ one of the other guards sneered. Eventually, Aleks gave in, allowing them to drag him out of the inn. The crowd was still gathered outside, but not one of them spoke as he was marched out towards the blue-painted guard’s carriage. He felt his face burn as hundreds of eyes watched him being shoved into the back of the carriage, almost falling on his face before he regained his balance and managed to shift into a seated position in the corner, arms pressing uncomfortably against the wood once the carriage began to move.

  He couldn’t hear what the guards were saying, their words drowned out by the rattling of wheels over the cobblestones and the rhythmic whirr of the carriage’s motor, but even more so by the pounding of his own blood in his ears. How could he have been so stupid? He had told Luka it wouldn’t be enough to get his record wiped; Shulga was out for blood! Storms, he was going to strangle the old mechanic. How the gods was he going to get out of this one?

  He couldn’t help but run scenarios in his mind, trying to determine what would become of him. If the worst came to the worst, he’d be back at the base in Rensav, or in jail somewhere. The best he could probably hope for would be serving out his four years as a guard in Syvana, or even Pervaya. He could handle that.

  His thinking – which had quickly become panicking – was brought to an abrupt halt as the carriage stopped suddenly, causing him to hit his head against the hard wood. Moments later the carriage doors swung open, and Shulga stood there sneering at him. ‘Come on, then,’ he urged, stepping up into the carriage to force Aleks to his feet, clearly aware he wouldn’t be able to do so on his own. He then proceeded to drag him out, and when Aleks stumbled to his knees Shulga just hoisted him back up again. ‘No dawdling,’ he growled, shoving him forward.

  In front of them was the tall, imposing building of the city prison. It was made of jet black rock, the windows barred and the perimeter fence high and barbed at the top. It looked like the kind of place that could steal a man’s soul, and Aleks desperately hoped he wouldn’t be there long. He tried to deal with the rough handling by his guards the best he could; if anything, Shulga was making sure to cause him as much pain as possible. There was another guard at the door, who was at least twice the width of any man Aleks had ever seen, nothing but muscle to speak of. His head was shaved and a tattoo curled up the side of his neck and on to his cheek. Aleks couldn’t tell what it depicted, but whatever it was, it had a set of lethal-looking fangs.

  One of the guards pulled an ID badge from his pocket, showing it to the door guard, who grunted and scowled but eventually pulled the heavy lever on the door lock. There was a series of clicks and then the door swung open, revealing a dark, dank corridor. Aleks shivered as he went in. They hadn’t allowed him to grab his coat or hat, and there was no heating. Teeth chattering, he was dragged through the corridor, the door slamming shut behind them. They turned a corner and reached another door with another heavy-duty lock, where one of the guards roughly patted Aleks down. They confiscated the pen in his pocket, his watch and the buckled straps on his jacket, making him wonder what previous prisoners had attempted to do with such items. The thought wasn’t comforting.

  Aleks was marched through the next door towards a row of identical barred cells. He was directed to a small one at the very end of the row, which contained nothing but a wooden cot, a bucket in the corner, a basin of water and a tiny window allowing slats of light to enter the cell. ‘Welcome home,’ Shulga drawled as he finally released the handcuffs, his satisfied tone making Aleks’s skin crawl.

  ‘I won’t be here for long,’ Aleks retorted confidently. Shulga snorted, while his two flunkies laughed aloud.

  ‘You’re awfully sure of yourself for someone with the charges you’re facing,’ the man remarked. ‘Not looking forward to seeing all your old friends back in barracks? They’ve mis
sed you terribly.’ Aleks felt physically sick at the prospect of going back to Rensav. He wouldn’t let that happen. ‘You get one visitor,’ the guard on the left told him, earning a glare from Shulga. ‘Choose wisely.’

  ‘Luka,’ Aleks answered immediately. ‘My employer.’

  ‘Very well. A message will be sent.’ With that, Shulga and the guards left, and Aleks sat on the edge of the cot, running a hand through his hair. He was relieved they hadn’t brought Drazan in too. The man had suffered enough as it was.

  The damp, bone-deep cold of the cell began to get to him, and he shifted further back on the cot, tucking his knees up to his chest. Why couldn’t they have grabbed him off the street? It might have been more worrying, but at least he’d be warmer. Sighing to himself, Aleks began to count down the minutes, wondering when Luka would be allowed to visit. When they said that a message would be sent, surely they didn’t mean a letter? That could take days to get to him!

  As he waited, his imagination began to take over, providing scenario after scenario, each more grim than the last. He’d rather stay in prison than go back to Rensav, but he doubted they would give him the choice. The army didn’t let people escape before they paid their dues.

  Left alone with nothing but his thoughts and the silence, Aleks nearly fell off his cot in alarm when footsteps echoed through the corridor hours later. His eyes widened when a stocky, unfamiliar guard appeared leading a figure with a familiar shock of white hair. Aleks couldn’t help but grin at Luka, who seemed completely unperturbed by their surroundings, his expression unchanging as he looked around as though everyone in the building was a complete idiot, Aleks included. The man could be so predictable sometimes.

  ‘You have half an hour,’ the guard informed them, unlocking the cell door long enough for Luka to enter, then locking it again. Thankfully he left instead of standing watch over their conversation, and Aleks fixed the mechanic with a hopeful look. Luka walked over to him, perching on the other end of the cot.

  ‘I thought you said I’d be safe? You told me your friend had it covered,’ Aleks said accusingly. Luka frowned.

  ‘I thought he did. I haven’t heard from him since, though, which worries me. I apologise, lad – if I’d held up my end of our deal, you wouldn’t be in this mess.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Aleks sighed, as much as he would like to blame someone other than himself. He’d made the decision to fly the ship, it was his responsibility. As was everything else he was in trouble for. ‘Just please say you can help me.’ Luka scratched thoughtfully at his chin.

  ‘I don’t doubt I can,’ he said, and Aleks’s heart skipped a beat. ‘It’ll take me a little while, though. And it all depends on how fast I can get an audience with the guard captain. And how susceptible that captain is to bribery.’ Wide-eyed, Aleks shook his head.

  ‘You can’t bribe the guard captain, Luka! You’d need inordinate amounts of money for something like that.’ Luka grinned, winking.

  ‘Don’t be daft, lad. Of course I won’t bribe him with money,’ he assured Aleks, a hint of mischief in his tone. ‘Just leave it to me. I’ll do my best to get you out in good time. And don’t do anything stupid.’ His dark eyes bore into Aleks’s as he spoke, and the boy was mildly offended.

  ‘What do you think I’m going to do, punch a guard?’ he asked sarcastically. Luka raised a bushy eyebrow at him.

  ‘If Shulga annoys you enough, I wouldn’t put it past you,’ he muttered. ‘Just stay quiet, do what they tell you, and try not to antagonise anyone. Even if they start insulting you and your loved ones. I mean it, lad.’ His expression was more serious than Aleks had ever seen before, and it made him nervous. ‘They’ll try everything to get you to act out, and then nothing I do will be worth anything. As soon as they can slap another set of charges on you, it’s out of my power. I only have so much to barter with,’ he pointed out. Aleks sighed, nodding to show he understood.

  ‘I’ll be good,’ he promised, cowed by the prospect of having to go back to Rensav. ‘Just . . . hurry, please.’ He heard footsteps further up the corridor and knew it was the guard coming back to retrieve Luka; their half hour was up. ‘And tell Saria – tell Saria I love her.’ Luka’s lips twitched in a small smile, and he got to his feet, clasping Aleks’s shoulder.

  ‘Tell her yourself, lad – you’ll see her soon enough. Remember what I told you, and leave everything to me.’ The guard unlocked the cell, clearing his throat pointedly, and Luka made for the exit.

  ‘Thank you,’ Aleks called after him. ‘For helping me.’ Luka turned.

  ‘It’s my fault you’re in here, lad,’ he reasoned. ‘Least I can do is help where I can.’ With that, he left, escorted by the guard, and Aleks was alone once more. Most people would probably think him foolish for putting his life in the hands of a certifiably insane, geriatric mechanic, but Aleks trusted Luka to keep his word. All it would take was time.

  40

  Luka hadn’t been wrong about how the guards would treat him; they jeered and mocked him whenever they came to check on him or bring him food. Shulga was the worst, finding any excuse to pass his cell and attack him. When he had returned to give Aleks his evening meal, he’d accompanied it with a sharp kick to Aleks’s ribs, his steel-toed boots knocking the wind from his lungs. ‘Your little girlfriend will never see you again, y’know,’ he said. ‘And I’ll find my journal sooner or later, so all your work will be for nought.’

  ‘The journal’s gone,’ Aleks sighed, having already told Shulga as much the last time he’d been in to interrogate him. ‘I threw it off a cliff back in the Stormlands.’

  ‘So you say,’ Shulga retorted. ‘But would you really destroy such an important piece of . . . history?’ The glint in his eyes sent shivers down Aleks’s spine.

  ‘If it meant it stayed out of your filthy hands, yes,’ he snapped in reply. ‘But by all means, go ahead and check. You know where I live, and legally there’s nothing stopping you from going through my room now I’m in custody. Look for yourself, if you don’t believe me.’ It wasn’t like he had much to hide now the journal was gone, and it was bound to happen eventually if Luka didn’t manage to get him out of jail.

  ‘I might just do that.’ Shulga turned, leaving the cell and locking it behind him. It was clear from his face that he hadn’t expected Aleks to be so forthcoming on the matter. The lieutenant lurked outside the cell, taunting him about all the horrible things that might happen to him now he’d been caught, while Aleks stared at the bland-looking mess he had been given for dinner. He clenched his jaw, trying to block out Shulga’s words. Luka had told him not to get into trouble, and that meant staying completely silent, even when he wished the man had stayed inside the cell so he could punch his smarmy face in.

  To Aleks’s relief, the lieutenant left fairly soon, obviously bored of getting no response. Aleks forced himself to eat the lukewarm slop, washing it down with water that tasted vaguely of mildew. He hoped he didn’t catch anything. Shoving the empty tray towards the edge of the bars, he retreated to his cot. He had no blanket or pillow, but he didn’t mind all that much, resting his head on his arms. He was cold and kept his boots on as he tried to sleep, not wanting to wake up to numb toes, or worse. The bucket in the corner of the cell was mocking him; his bladder was uncomfortably full, but he hated the thought of degrading himself by using the bucket.

  Eventually, it became a non-issue. Choosing a moment when he thought the corridor was empty, he was as quick as possible, then washed his hands in the ice-cold water stagnating in the basin. The water probably made his hands dirtier than before, and the cold sank right into his bones as he tucked his hands under his armpits, curling up on the cot once more. ‘No rush or anything, Luka,’ he murmured to himself, jaw clenched to stop his teeth chattering. ‘But if you could hurry things up a bit, it’d be much appreciated.’ He tacked on a silent prayer to any of the three gods that might be listening, urging them for a reprieve. They had served him well so far; hopefully they wouldn�
��t let him down now.

  Morning dawned with a loud klaxon going off throughout the building, though Aleks hardly reacted; it sounded the same as the klaxon from the barracks in Rensav. For a moment he was back there, curled up in his cot with Jarek mocking him from the next bed, about to start a day of pain and physical exhaustion. He shook it off, reminding himself where he was, even though the reality was hardly better.

  Sitting up, wincing at the ache in his back and shoulders from the hard wooden bed, he stretched the best he could and looked around. The faint light of early morning filtered through his barred window, and he knew it was probably obscenely early to be awake. He wished they hadn’t taken his pocket watch, if only so he could keep track of how many hours he’d spent in this dreary place. He supposed it was all part of their tactics, though; leave someone oblivious of the time, and an hour could seem like ten.

  Waiting on his cot for someone to come past his cell – preferably with breakfast – he was sorely disappointed by the tiny portion of bland porridge eventually offered to him. It was gone in barely four mouthfuls. He was still hungry, but he had bigger things to worry about. When Shulga came he was flanked by three other guards, and Aleks’s eyes widened as one of them brought out the key to his cell, unlocking the door. ‘Stand up and face the wall,’ Shulga ordered harshly. His face was unreadable, and it made Aleks anxious. He was grabbed by the arms and manhandled into a pair of handcuffs before being yanked around to face the cell doors. ‘You’re coming with us.’

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ Aleks asked in alarm.

  ‘Never you mind. Now shut up and walk,’ Shulga told him sharply, pushing him out of the cell. One of the guards walked off with his breakfast tray, while the other two stayed close to Aleks’s sides. He obeyed, trying to keep up despite the pain in his shoulders, sure that the next grab of his arm would wrench it out of place. He was led back to the heavy locked door, and hope rose in his chest when he was directed down the narrow corridor he’d walked through on his way in.