“A few more days wouldn’t make much difference.” He shrugged. “All I have to do is sit anyway.”
“And I’ll be there to make sure it isn’t too much for him.”
They both turned. Kyrin walked up to them with one of her supply packs and looked at Jace. “I’ll ride with you. That way Marcus and Michael can ride Ivoris.”
Jace smiled. He certainly didn’t object to sharing her company for the next several days. It seemed to please Rayad as well. Apparently, they thought he might overtax himself. Not that he could blame them.
Once they’d all packed their replenished supplies and figured out who would pair up now that they were short on dragons, it was time for goodbyes. Though anxious to return to camp, Jace would miss certain people, particularly Saul. He was glad the man stuck around a couple of extra days.
“It must be nice to know you’re heading home,” Saul said as Jace walked up to him.
“Yes. This trip wasn’t what any of us expected.”
Saul smiled in agreement. “Well, I wish you the best. I hope, now that we’re all working together, we can change things and you can get back to a more normal life. We’ll be praying for that.”
“Thank you. And I’m very thankful for the opportunity to have met you and your family. I think I can finally embrace who I am. I had learned to accept my ryrik blood, but I still tried to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t really part of me. Not anymore.”
“Perhaps, someday, others will come to see the truth and ryriks can return to being protectors and fighters for justice as Elôm intended.”
“I hope so.”
They shook hands, and Saul said, “Remember, you’re always welcome to visit. Come any time and stay for as long as you want.”
Jace smiled. “I will.”
With their goodbyes concluding, everyone gathered around the dragons to mount up. It was a little difficult for Jace, but Gem crouched down low enough to make it easier. Once he’d settled in, Kyrin climbed up behind him. Just being so near to her after how things could have ended restored some of his strength.
Before flying off, Lord Vallan approached Balen. “We’ll keep in touch, and I’ll have dragons sent to replace those you lost.”
“We appreciate that,” Balen said, “and we are very grateful for your help.”
Lord Vallan nodded. “Daican has been allowed to go unchallenged long enough. It’s time for that to change.”
Daniel rubbed his sore eyes and craned his neck from side to side. The past two weeks had passed in a blur. He hadn’t slept a full night in all that time. First, he’d focused on his mother and being there in her grief. Though he’d wanted to do the same for his sister, she refused his sympathy. Then he’d had to arrange his father’s funeral. Looking back on it still felt too strange to be real.
Yet, now that it was over came the most surreal part of all—the preparation for his coronation and ascension to the throne. For the last three days, he’d spent almost every waking moment in his father’s study with the secretary—Henry Foss—trying to catch up on all his father’s affairs that would now be his responsibility.
One of the first things he would do once he was officially crowned was pardon everyone arrested in the last two years for believing in Elôm. If only he could find a way to make amends to all those who had suffered so terribly. Maybe Ben and Mira would have an idea, but he hadn’t had time yet to visit them.
“I just found this letter from one of the generals, my lord.” Mister Foss held out a parchment. “It appears your father had two forces sent to invade Dorland.”
“What?” Daniel snatched the letter and skimmed it, groaning when he reached the end. His father had seemed bent on systematically making enemies of everyone who had once been an ally of Arcacia. “Send someone immediately to put a stop to this. And I want all of our troops pulled out of Samara and King Balen restored to the throne.”
He prayed both King Balen and King Orlan would understand that he wasn’t his father and that he sought to restore peaceful relationships.
“It will be done, my lord, but it must wait until after you are crowned.”
Daniel groaned again. “People could be dying in Dorland by then.” For all he knew, they were already. He sighed. Three more days and then he could make things right.
A knock sounded at the office door, and Foss answered it. One of the footman stepped in and addressed Daniel.
“Excuse me, my lord, Sir Richard Blaine has arrived.”
Daniel knew his sister had sent for him. “Where is he now?”
“With the princess, my lord.”
Though Daniel had never particularly liked him, Richard was like an uncle to Davira. Maybe his presence would help her through her grief. Daniel had barely seen her since the funeral. When he did, her gaunt appearance disturbed him. She almost seemed to have given up on life.
“Thank you,” Daniel said, dismissing the footman. He’d let Davira have her time with Richard before he sought him out. He didn’t look forward to explaining the changes he planned to make anyway. In fact, the dread of it had weighed on him for days. Richard had been the staunchest supporter of his father’s plans. Not to mention what he’d gained from it—rule over all Samara. He would probably have a good deal to say in opposition to the changes. Daniel would have to learn good diplomacy skills and fast.
He turned his attention back to Mister Foss. “Any other hostile operations I should be aware of?”
The secretary shook his head. “I will keep looking, my lord.”
It surprised Daniel how willing the man was to see things changed. He was another one Daniel would have expected to remain fiercely loyal to his father, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
He glanced at the letter concerning Dorland again and set to work writing his orders to pull out of Samara and Dorland and restore rule to their rightful parties. They may not be official documents yet, but at least he’d have them here waiting to go out the moment he was crowned.
For the next hour, he sifted through document after document, recruiting Mister Foss to explain most of them. This made it painfully clear how his refusal to work with his father had left him ignorant as to what it took to rule Arcacia. He just prayed he would learn quickly without any catastrophic mistakes.
Just when he thought about taking a break for lunch, the office door burst open. His head shot up, and he frowned as Richard marched in followed by four guards. Pushing to his feet, Daniel glared at Richard. The man might have shared a close friendship with his father, but Daniel wouldn’t stand for him barging in whenever he pleased. If he didn’t demand respect now from the start, he might not be able to enforce it later.
Before he could get a word out of his mouth, two of the guards strode around the desk and grabbed him by the arms.
“What are you doing?” Daniel jerked against the men. “Unhand me immediately.”
The guards dragged him around the desk to Richard. Daniel’s mind spun. He hadn’t expected a power play for the throne—not when Richard had been so loyal to the family—but then Davira stepped into the room. Her eyes seemed to pierce right through him.
“You are under arrest for treason.”
Daniel’s mouth dropped open. “What? You can’t do that.”
Davira tipped her chin up and motioned to the guards. “Take him down to an interrogation room.”
Any protest died on Daniel’s lips, shocked that she would actually do this and that Richard was in it with her. Quick to follow her orders, the guards hauled him out of the office. In the halls, he looked around for Aric. He would put a stop to this. Then he spotted his mother. Her eyes went wide, and she rushed up to them.
“What’s this?”
“I’m preserving Father’s legacy,” Davira said, her voice like ice.
Their mother stared, dumbfounded, and then shook her head. “You can’t do this.” She looked at the guards. “Release him.”
Daniel tugged against them, ready to have Richard escorted to t
he dungeon instead. He’d be sorely tempted to have Davira thrown down there for a while too. However, the guards didn’t relinquish their hold. His mother drew herself up, her eyes flashing.
“I am still the queen, and I command you to release him immediately.”
Still, the guards refused to obey. Glaring at their mother, Davira ordered, “Carry on.”
The guards shoved Daniel forward again, simply brushing his mother off to the side. He looked back at her, meeting her wide eyes. That was the moment reality crashed in. Davira and Richard had the guards entirely under their control, and not even the queen could stop them. That left Daniel at Davira’s mercy. He swallowed convulsively. All the murderous looks she had sent him over the years floated into his mind. How much hatred had she stored up ready to release on him now?
They led him down one of the dark staircases into the dungeon. Daniel gritted his teeth. He’d always avoided this place. The cool, damp air seeped into his skin, and he shivered. Down a long hall, they shoved him into an interrogation room and clamped a heavy pair of shackles to his wrists.
Forcing aside his apprehension, Daniel sent his sister a hard look. “You won’t get away with this.”
She merely smirked. “I already have.” She walked up to him, her eyes like cold emeralds. “Now, why don’t you tell me who and where your traitorous friends are? I bet you know exactly where Alex is hiding.”
Daniel shook his head. “Of course I don’t know where he is.”
Davira turned and motioned to the guards. “Looks like he needs his tongue loosened.”
Before he had a chance to prepare for it, one of the guard’s fists smashed squarely into the side of his jaw. He stumbled and caught himself, but another fist drove into his ribs. He raised his arms to try to shield himself from the attacks. The blows came one after the other, some to the head and some to the body, until he fell to his knees, gasping. Pain ricocheted inside his skull and pulsated through his chest. He shook his head to clear his senses.
“Now chain him up.”
The guards grabbed Daniel’s wrists and attached a long chain to the shackles. They yanked on the opposite end threaded through a ring in the ceiling and hauled him to his feet, leaving him standing with his arms suspended over his head. The metal dug into his wrists.
“Davira, what are you doing? I’m Father’s heir.”
Davira placed her hands on her hips. “I will produce a new heir. Once I have a son, I will raise him up in your place, and he will continue Father’s legacy. Three days from now, the people will gather to see your coronation. What they will witness instead is your execution, and I will be crowned queen of Arcacia. No one, not even the prince, gets away with treason.”
Daniel breathed out hard. He’d always suspected his sister was capable of murder, but to actually go through with it? “Do you really think killing me is what Father would have wanted?”
Her face flushed as she stepped closer. “What Father wanted was to create a strong and powerful Arcacia, and all you plan to do is destroy everything he worked for his entire life.”
“Power is not what makes a country great. It’s—”
“Silence! You don’t know anything! You were never involved in any of Father’s affairs. You didn’t sit with him and learn what it takes to run a country. You didn’t want anything to do with him!” Her chest heaved, and her eyes flashed. “I did.”
Daniel released a long sigh, guilt weighing on him. “I know. And I know how you loved him. I didn’t learn the things you did, but I do care about the people of Arcacia—”
Davira snorted. “The people of Arcacia. The traitors, you mean. I’ll deal with your precious people. Now tell me the location of every Elôm-worshipper you know.”
Despite how his ribs protested, Daniel stood up straighter and refused to speak. She wouldn’t get a single name out of him.
A solid blow to the gut robbed him of breath. With another, a cracking in his ribs forced a groan up his throat. The guard backed off, and Daniel struggled to catch his breath, but it set fire to his side.
Gritting his teeth, he locked eyes with his sister. “You must know you’re wasting your time.”
“Oh, really? Because we’re just getting started. If you think this is the worst we can do, you’re sadly mistaken. After all, you don’t need your eyes, or your fingers, to talk. If that’s how you want to be seen at your execution, that’s perfectly fine with me.”
A chill slithered through Daniel’s body. “Davira, I’m your brother. We’re not enemies.”
She released a short, hard laugh. “You are not my brother. Not since you joined up with those Elôm-worshipping rebels who wanted my father dead.”
“Alex acted on his own personal vendetta against Father. He had nothing to do with the believers in Elôm.”
“You expect me to believe they didn’t want him dead too?”
“Not anyone I know.”
Davira scoffed. “I don’t believe you. You’re my enemy, they’re my enemies, and so is everyone who ever opposed Father. And let me tell you, brother, you will all pay for it.”
Daniel let a breath hiss out through his teeth. The struggle to breathe grew worse the longer he stood here with his arms secured over his head. Davira and Richard had left him alone hours ago. Unless he stood up straight, which pained his ribs, he hung from his wrists. By now, his legs and arms ached almost as badly as his chest. He winced and blinked, though his left eye was almost swollen shut. Not that it mattered since it was too dark to see anything.
The darkness weighed on him like a physical manifestation of the despair that sank into his heart. I had a chance to make things right. I could’ve changed everything. Why would You allow this? You said You could use me. I don’t understand. Did I miss something I should’ve done to prevent this? If only Elon would appear to him here as He had on the cliffs.
Daniel straightened up to draw another deep breath and groaned. How long would Davira keep him in this position? Until his execution? He grimaced and considered how many others had endured torture here for their beliefs. Kyrin Altair, her brother, the half ryrik Elon had sacrificed Himself to save. Though he’d been well aware of the danger, Daniel never actually believed it would come to this. He was the prince. He choked out a dry, painful laugh. What a stupid, arrogant fool. Maybe it was that stupidity and arrogance that had put him down here. He should have been more wary of Davira. I thought I was doing the right things, Lord. I’m sorry if I failed. He hung his head.
The bolt on the door slid open, and Daniel looked up, bracing himself for more questions or torture—whatever Davira felt in the mood for. A torch bobbed in first, followed immediately by one man.
“Aric,” Daniel gasped. A friendly face immediately lifted his heavy heart.
The man closed the door and stuck the torch in a holder before crossing the room to remove the shackles. When Daniel’s arms lowered, he gritted his teeth, hunching over as pain tore through his shoulders and chest. His legs wobbled, but he managed to stay upright. Flexing his fists, he worked some feeling back into his fingers.
“We need to get out of here now,” Aric said. “We may need to run. Can you do that?”
Daniel straightened, wincing. He hurt worse than he ever had in his comfortable, pampered life, but he wouldn’t let that stop him from escaping this place. He nodded firmly.
Aric handed him the extra sword he had stuck in his belt. “In case you need it.”
Daniel took it, and Aric turned for the door. He grabbed the torch and peered into the hall before motioning for Daniel to follow. Walking briskly, Aric asked, “You don’t know of any more secret exits, do you?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“We’ll have to use the main gate then.”
They hurried through the dungeon and up a long staircase, where Aric put out the torch. Easing the door open, he peered outside before the two of them crept out into the courtyard. Daniel looked around. The sky and moons were cloud-covered, thankfully. At leas
t they had that to their advantage.
“We’ll sneak to the wall and follow it to the gate,” Aric whispered. “It’ll be safer than trying to cross in front of the palace undetected.”
They made their way to the wall, using anything they could for cover. When they reached the dark shadows at the base of the wall, they paused, and Daniel braced himself to catch his breath. Though his adrenaline dulled some of the pain, he still could hardly breathe without groaning.
“Once we’re out, we’ll need someplace to hide so you can rest,” Aric said. “Do you know a place?”
“Yes.”
“Then once we’re out, you lead the way.”
Daniel nodded, and they moved on again, keeping close to the cover of the wall. When they drew near the gate, Aric stopped again. “Whatever happens, you need to go. Don’t stop. I will get the gate open. Wait here until you have an opening and then go.”
A protest jumped to Daniel’s mouth, but Aric moved away before he could voice it. Silently, he crouched in the shadows as the man strode toward the gate. In a moment, the two gate guards spotted him. Their hands jumped to their swords, but they relaxed when they realized who it was.
“I was just working my way around the perimeter and thought I’d have a look around outside,” Aric said.
One of the guards frowned. “Alone?”
Aric shrugged. “I don’t anticipate trouble. Besides, I think I’ll head down into the city for a while.”
The guards hesitated at first, but then one turned to the gate and swung it open. When the man turned back to Aric, Daniel’s heart skipped a beat. Now was his chance. Gasping a prayer for success, he sprinted toward the opening and slipped through.
“Hey!” one of the guards shouted.
Daniel glanced over his shoulder. The guards sprinted after him, but Aric yanked out his sword and cut them off. Despite what Aric told him, he paused to hear him say, “He is heir to the throne and rightfully our king.”
However, the guards drew their own swords, and one said, “The princess is our ruler now.”
Exiles (Ilyon Chronicles Book 4) Page 39
