Castle of Lies

by Kiersi Burkhart

  I reel my arm back, closing my fist except for my middle and index finger. With two fingers, I slam him right in the exposed abdomen. His face contorts in horror as his vital organs implode.

  I’ve always wanted to try that.

  Parsifal

  Halrendar pulls the wagon down the muddy Low Road, away from the city gates. I saw Thelia leap fearlessly from the wagon. I’ve watched her take on two of the long ears already and win. Each time it’s a gamble—her skill and desperation against their size and speed and training. At some point, she’s going to lose the wager.

  At least she has Bayled to back her up.

  “We have to wait for her,” I tell the Baron. For both of them.

  Captain Tarkness shakes her head. “Don’t be a brave fool and end up a stupid corpse.”

  Can’t really argue with that. I clench my fists and settle back into the wagon as we slip into the dark woods. All I can think of is how outmatched they are, and how awful it would be to not see them again.

  The wagon wheels slow as they stick in the mud, but Halrendar’s strong. I check back over my shoulder, hoping that Thelia and Sapphire will appear.

  Corene lets out the first sound she’s made since we left the castle behind. “It’s them!” she shouts. “Long ears!”

  Figures emerge from the trees ahead, their dark leather clothes studded with pine branches, their faces scrubbed in deep green to hide among the foliage. “Keep it down, Princess,” says the Baron. “These are my soldiers.”

  The Baron and Captain Tarkness are the first out, reuniting with the force as they swarm around the wagon. Red starts to point out a team among them. “We’re going back,” he says, shifting his gaze pointedly to me. “To find Thelia.”

  Captain Tarkness gapes at him. “You saw the size of the long ears’ force. By the time you got back, you’d get your head bitten off by a raptor before you could swing your sword.”

  “She’s right,” I say. “We don’t have the numbers. I’ve spent a long time inside that castle—and we simply can’t take them.”

  The Captain crosses her arms. “Thank you.”

  There’s a distant crash through the trees. We all spin, swords at the ready. The soldiers form a line as the tearing of branches and pounding of hooves grows nearer. “The People have found us,” Captain Tarkness hisses.

  If they have, that’s the end.

  A great white shape emerges between two trees. I shout over the din, “Parlor Trick!” On her back is Bayled—with a body draped across his lap.

  He reins the horse to a halt. “Someone come get her.” I catch sight of Thelia’s dark hair and a trickle of blood streaming down Parlor Trick’s snow-white side. No. I can’t lose both Sapphire and Thelia.

  I sprint over to the horse and together, Bayled and I get Thelia down to the ground. “Sasel!” he shouts. “I need your help.”

  A priestess emerges from the band of soldiers. She nudges me out of the way to kneel beside Thelia. “She’s unconscious but breathing. Step back.” I take one step back, but no more. Sasel puts a finger to Thelia’s throat. “She doesn’t have long. She’s bleeding out.”

  Captain Tarkness kneels next to her and examines the gushing wound. Part of her is missing—on the same side as the scar on her face. The world has chipped away at Thelia Finegarden, piece by piece.

  Sasel raises her hands as the soldiers stand around, murmuring. “We need silence!” the Captain roars, and everyone goes quiet. My eyes never stray from Thelia’s face as Sasel and the Captain begin their work. Bayled sits down next to me.

  Their four hands form a circle over Thelia, and under their fingers, light begins to gather. Sasel’s fingers comb the air, pulling, gathering. The light takes shape. Soon, resting in her palms are a shining, glowing needle and a spool of thread.

  “Magic thread?” I ask, feeling a familiar place in my chest growing warm.

  “The best kind,” the Captain says, as Sasel guides the needle through the flesh around Thelia’s open wound. Thelia moans but doesn’t open her eyes. I am grateful she isn’t conscious.

  I turn to Bayled. “Where’s Sapphire . . . ?”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t know. They were injured. Thelia took this blow to save them and killed that green one. When Parlor Trick came back for her, Sapphire demanded we get to safety. I saw long ears coming so I didn’t want to wait around.”

  If Sapphire was already wounded . . . I doubt the elven force will forgive them for all this. Thelia sacrificed herself for Sapphire—and it might be in vain.

  I drop my head into my hands and a sob bursts out of me. What was the point of saving the world from Morgaun if neither Thelia nor Sapphire are in it?

  Someone puts an arm around my shoulders as I hiccup. Bayled? Well, demons be fucked, I actually appreciate it.

  When the sewing is finished, Sasel ties off the glowing thread. The stitch pulls itself tighter, bringing the edges of Thelia’s healthy skin together. She doesn’t wake up.

  Sapphire

  Two soldiers grab me, and I am in too much pain to consider fighting back. Thankfully, the Prince listened to me and rode away with Thelia to safety. Our force could follow the tracks, but they may never catch up. And the Baron’s men are out there, ready to defend them to the death.

  “Seize them!” roars Zylion. “The Commander must know what happened here today.” Two soldiers tie me up, and we start the slow march back to the castle.

  I don’t fear my judgment. There is nothing left for Commander Valya to take from me except my life. If he wants to sentence me, he will have to send me home to Viteos first or risk the High Seer’s wrath. She will discover the truth sooner or later.

  Behind us, soldiers carry Ellze’s and Ferah’s bodies like something sacred. I’ve committed a sin beyond sins: abetted the murder of two of The People. My own brethren. I will never forget the way that Ellze’s face turned to horror, and his body contorted like something possessed, when Thelia dealt her final blow.

  My limp slows us down. I catch Zylion shaking his head. “Sapphire,” he says. He sounds confused. “Why did you put your life on the line—betray us all—to rescue those humans? They are beetles to an orkuk. You will live for one hundred of their lifetimes. And we are so close to ending all this.”

  “By bringing the castle down and killing all these innocents?” I shake my head. “I could never have called myself one of The People if I let them perish. Especially those I love.”

  Zylion sighs. “The Commander will decide what to do with you.”

  I wonder which Commander we will find when we get there. The one with gray, sallow skin, and broken, pointed teeth? Or the one who once led us with grace and strength?

  Not that it matters. Even if I spend the rest of my days locked up in the High Seer’s hold, I will never regret a moment.

  Chapter 20

  Parsifal

  When we reach my family’s estate, we get Thelia settled in my room upstairs. Sasel and the Captain take turns attending to her wounds. We can’t stay long, but we can let Thelia rest and heal for a little while.

  I hover outside the door until I work up the nerve to ask how she’s doing. “I don’t know,” Sasel says. “She’s taken extensive internal damage. That monster carved her up.”

  I remember the green elf’s wild, opaque eyes. Something had gone very wrong there.

  I put a hand over my warm chest, which hasn’t returned to normal since I called for Four Halls to swallow Morgaun. We’re still coated in Magic, swimming in it. It crackles around me as I move out here in the regular world.

  It could be the end of me, or the beginning.

  Thelia

  There’s a hole in me. Even as I travel through brightly-colored fever dreams, I know a piece of me has gone missing. When the nightmares finally grind to a finish and I float up to the surface, I don’t want to open my eyes. If I do, I acknowledge that I may never fight again—not to mention ride a horse. Or walk.

  I’ll always have this h
ole in me where Sapphire should be.

  Fingers run up and down my arm. I’m sure it’s Parsifal, reminding me he’s there with feather touches. It’s the kind of lover that he is—knowing that’s all it takes. I suppose I can face anything as long as Parsifal’s waiting.

  When I open my eyes and the world drifts into focus, I find a face with a bushy mustache smiling down at me, pity wrinkling the corners of his eyes. “ . . . Red?” I ask, my voice a crackling whisper. There’s more silver in his hair than there used to be.

  He leans forward and draws a lock of hair away from my face. “It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you ever since I left Four Halls.”

  I frown at him and it makes the dull ache in my side flare. I can tell my sense for pain has been numbed, probably by Magic. “But you left.” I sound so . . . emotionless. I was never angry at Red for leaving, only at Corene for saying what made him leave. But now it occurs to me: what kind of person would listen to her? Not someone I would choose now.

  He lowers his head like a dog that’s been chastised. “I was going to ask you to marry me, until Corene said you were in love with Bayled.”

  My mind, still foggy from sleep, struggles to take this in. The idea of marrying Bayled, of wanting nothing more than to be Queen of the Holy Kingdom, seems ridiculous now—the way a child imagines becoming a dragon or a cloud.

  “Corene lied to you.”

  The Baron sighs. “I know. I’m sorry I left. I didn’t want to.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, and take the effort to pat his hand—hoping that if I make him feel good enough, he’ll go away. I want to go back to sleep and be left alone in my mourning.

  “Thelia.” Red picks my hand up and rubs the back. It makes me itch. “You know how I feel about you. That hasn’t changed.”

  Once upon a time, I liked this touch. Baron Durnhal’s still handsome and kind. But I pull my hand back. “Please,” Red says, his eyes boring into mine. “You’re hurt. You’ll need time to rest and recover. Come back to the Crimson Woods with me. Live in my home. Let Captain Tarkness take care of you.” He stops and turns his head away for a moment, like he’s trying to get back his courage. “There may be nothing left of the Holy Kingdom, and the title may be meaningless, but please—be my Baronness?”

  It feels like the world’s tipping sideways. Soon the paintings and the tapestries and the furniture will start to slide across the floor, taking us with them, until we’re all falling into the ceiling. Once, this would’ve meant the world to me.

  I shake my head. “No,” I say, leaving it at that single word. I look away as his face breaks apart. I won’t apologize for refusing a request that I made no indication of wanting.

  “You’re right.” He stands up suddenly. “I believed the lie so easily. I never thought to simply ask you if it was true.”

  I sigh. “There are so many wonderful people in the world who could make you happy. But it’s not me.”

  He rubs his eyes with one hand. “I hope you don’t mind if I . . . leave. Right now. I’m just . . .” I nod and he walks out. I wonder if I’ll ever see him again, but I’m too tired to worry. Too tired to care about the barony I could’ve ruled, the castle I could’ve lived in. I never want to see a castle again as long as I live unless Sapphire and Parsifal are in it.

  Parsifal

  Bayled goes with me to see Thelia, and Corene insists she come along. We find Thelia staring at the ceiling, exhausted. When she describes her conversation with Red, I want to kiss her all over. She didn’t even attach an “I’m sorry” when she rejected him. I love her even more.

  “So where do we go from here?” Bayled says, sitting on the other side of her bed.

  “I’m not moving for a while.”

  I look down at her, combing my fingers through her black hair. “We can’t stay at the mansion. We’ve only stayed this long so you can heal.”

  She sighs. “Yeah. We can’t let them find us.”

  “Sasel is returning with Red and his army back to the Crimson Woods,” Bayled says. “It sounds like you won’t be going that way.”

  “All the more reason you should come with me!” Corene claps her hands together.

  “Go where with you?” Bayled asks, his voice flat.

  “To the Klissen, of course! Bayled, you and I will build a new Kingdom there.”

  Thelia stares at her. “With the traitor?” She lets out a laugh. It clearly hurts her and she starts to cough. “The same cratertooth who sent a wizard to Four Halls to help the long ears take over? The same one who tried to have Bayled murdered?”

  Corene’s eyes narrow. “It makes the most sense strategically, Theels. The Southerners are our best chance of restoring what we’ve lost.” She’s always had a contingency plan.

  “And who says I want that?” Thelia shuts her eyes and sighs. “Please, just go. Your last hog-brained plan almost killed us all.”

  “Well, I’m going to be Queen of the Holy Kingdom no matter what you do,” Corene says, getting off the bed.

  “There’s nothing left to be queen of,” I tell her. “You’d rule over ghosts and broken stones.”

  “And for that,” she snarls, her face transformed, “I will get my revenge.” She turns to Bayled, and her very eyes seem to cackle with energy. “This is your chance, Bayled, to be King.”

  “I never wanted to be King, Corene,” Bayled says with a sigh. “If you knew me, you’d know that. I only wanted you.”

  She scours each of us with her eyes. “Fine. Good luck trying to survive out there on your own.” She leaves the room, slamming the door closed behind her.

  Bayled

  I know Corene suffered, living the dark—but that doesn’t excuse what she’s become now. Maybe she’s always been this way. Maybe when we wanted the same thing, when we idolized being together, I chose not to see her for what she was: selfish, unmoored, desperately searching for herself.

  “Never mind her,” Parsifal says impatiently. “What about us, Bayled? We only survived this long because we’ve stuck together. You and Thelia took down, what, four elves together?”

  I’m aghast. “You were the one who convinced Four Halls to eat Morgaun whole! I’m the one who completely ruined your escape plan.” And got Harged killed.

  Parsifal claps me on the back. “Nobody was calling you a master strategist, Bayled.”

  Thelia covers her side as she laughs. “Percy, stop!”

  “You’re as brave as either of us, though,” Parsival says. For the first time in our lives, he might actually respect me. “Definitely braver than I am when it comes to hitting people with pointy things. I know we haven’t always been the best of friends to you . . .” That’s an understatement. “But I think we’re better off together than apart.”

  I take a deep breath and smile, just a little. “Well, in that case—what if we went north?” If we’re going to stick together, well, I’m going to commit. I need a team to play for.

  “Go to the Northern Republic?” Thelia hmms. “But that’s so far. In the shape I’m in . . .”

  “We’ll help you get there,” I say brightly. “We can do it together.” I had completely written off the Northern Republic, but in the end, maybe it really is my home. The Kingdom never wanted me anyway. I feel almost excited.

  “And you’re fine with Corene leaving—?” Parsifal begins.

  “Yes.” I inhale sharply, stuffing my anger back down. That’s a new feeling for me. “I’m done.”

  “Finally,” Thelia says, rolling her eyes.

  Parsifal takes her hand. “Then it’s settled. I’ll make sure you get there safe, Theels. Just think—a new life. It won’t matter where we’re from, or what we were, in the Republic.”

  “We’d all just be normal citizens,” I say. “Rising or falling on our own merits.”

  Her eyes close, and she lets out a relieved sigh. “Sounds nice.”

  Chapter 21

  Thelia

  After three moons of trekking across the hills of my ance
stors, through their abandoned cities and ruins, we spot the glittering metal roofs of Dezha on the horizon. We’re tired and thirsty and starving.

  Thanks to the thick coating of Magic around me, I’ve healed far more quickly than anyone expected; instead of riding in the wagon, I get to approach the city walls on Parlor Trick’s back. I may never be my old self again, but I’m a new Thelia Finegarden—with one handsome scar down my face to remind me of where I came from, and another down my side to remind me of someone I loved.

  There’s no wall around the city, as if the Northern Republic doesn’t fear outsiders the way the Holy Kingdom did. Dirt becomes neat cobblestone. The houses are squat, their walls made of hardened clay, their roofs reflective metal.

  Every street corner has a market stall, and people seem happy. Well-fed. Children play with their pets, and older people chase loose chickens around. I wonder, as we often did around a campfire, what Melidihan looks like now. Abandoned? A new elven hub, bustling with life?

  I don’t want to think about whether anyone else made it out. My cracked soul can’t handle the possibility that they didn’t.

  A few people stop to stare as we pass through with our shabby wagon. “You’re taking us to the Prime Minister, right?” I ask Bayled.

  He laughs. “No, we won’t meet the Prime Minister. We’re only ordinary citizens, remember?” We stop in front of an unremarkable large building. As we enter, a woman in a long blue coat rimmed with gold tassels approaches us.

  “How can we help you at the Ministry of Records and Licensing?” I’m glad that Bayled taught us some Keshar on the way so I understand some of what she says.

  “I need to look up my family records,” Bayled says. He nods to us. “They’re foreigners, so they’ll need citizenship paperwork.”