by Kim Stokely
“Alystrine!” He forces me to look at him.
Tears stream down my face. “I should never have gone.”
“You were foolish, yes.”
“It’s my fault. It was all my fault.”
“They are to blame for what they tried to do. They alone.”
“But I went to him . . . to Tegan . . . how can you forgive me for that?”
He lowers his forehead so it touches mine. “Because I have seen it all through your thoughts. Felt it all.”
My cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“I know you went to warn him because you feared for his life. Because you cared for him.”
I let out a choked sob. He knows I kissed Tegan and let him carry me to his bed.
“But you thought of me then. For a moment. Did you not?”
My throat is too constricted for me to speak. I can only nod.
“I saw it all last night, as you told us what had happened.” He places a gentle kiss on my brow. “Then I lay awake, wanting to be angry with you, but not able to hold on to it. Always, I kept remembering the moment you thought of me. When you tried to pull away.” He groans. “Please, look at me.”
I sniffle first. Lick the tears that have settled on my lips. When at last I lift my eyes to his, he smiles.
“And it occurred to me, as the morning broke, how young you are. How new this land is to you. How you have had so much power and responsibility thrust on you in so short a time. And been the target of such incredible evil and violence. How could I fault you for clinging to Tegan, when he had shown you kindness and love?”
“I’m so sorry.”
“There is no need to be.” We stand inches apart. Kyran leans closer, then pauses.
I close my eyes, knowing he won’t kiss me because he still hasn’t forgiven me. No matter what he says.
“That is not why.”
I hold my breath.
“I do not want the violence of yesterday to intrude. And I know it would.” He traces the length of my braid, pausing to finger the end. “The next time I kiss you, I want you to be thinking not of Tegan. Not of Braedon. But of me.” The familiar roguish smile brightens his face. “Only of me.”
I rest my head on his chest and he envelops me in his arms. His heart beats strong and fast as my tears fall again. This time, they are tears of relief.
“Excuse me, Your Majesty.”
I know the voice is Devnet’s before Kyran whispers, “Your uncle.”
“The Elder Council would like to see you.”
I pause for a moment before easing myself out of Kyran’s comforting embrace.
“Not you, Alystrine. They want to see Kyran.”
I shudder as a chill runs down my spine. “Kyran? Why?”
Devnet can’t meet my eyes. “What is spoken of within the Council must remain secret until decisions are made.”
Kyran squeezes my hand. “Come with me.”
I glance up at him. “Can I?”
Kyran answers, “You are the queen.”
“No.” Devnet backs away from the door. “Please, let them ask their questions.” His lips lift in a small smile. “If what I have seen here is any indication, you have nothing to worry about.” He nods toward Kyran. “Come.”
Kyran kisses my hand. “I will open my mind so you can see everything. I want no more secrets between us.”
As they leave me, I sink to the chair and stare into the embers in the fireplace. At first, my thoughts are only on what has just passed between us. The cord I saw binding us together. Kyran’s assurance that he wasn’t angry with me. Then, without warning, I see the door to the throne room and realize it must be what Kyran is seeing.
He follows Devnet into the room. The Elder Council are in the middle, arguing. Some are still sitting. Others are standing, waving their hands as they debate with each other.
Seems you have made their choice a difficult one.
I chuckle, hearing Kyran’s sarcasm.
The Elders take their seats when they notice Kyran. Devnet leads him to the center of the circle, then retreats to the wall next to my mother and Quinn. Oded and Maris stay standing. Kyran scans the faces, waiting for someone to tell him why he’s been called.
Finally, Maris steps forward. “We are at an impasse. The vote must be unanimous in order for the crown to be taken from the queen.” Her mouth twitches, as if she’s swallowing a foul tasting medicine. “However, it must also be unanimous for Alystrine to keep the crown.” Maris’s eyes lock on Kyran’s. “You, as her betrothed, are the only one who can decide her fate now.”
I sense Kyran’s confusion, although he doesn’t articulate any specific question. Instead, he waits for an explanation.
Oded takes his place next to my grandmother. “Alystrine has admitted to her transgressions before this Council. Am I right in assuming you heard her confession last night?”
Kyran’s voice sounds loud inside my head. “Not only did she confess, but she allowed me to see her thoughts as well.”
A murmur spreads around the room. I’m not sure if it’s a good or bad sign. Maris’s cheeks seem paler than a moment ago. She straightens her shoulders before speaking again.
“Then you must decide.”
“Whether she keeps the crown or not?”
Oded shakes his head. “Whether she keeps the crown and remains queen. Or whether you will invoke the right of a betrayed husband and demand the penalty under Elder Law.”
“What penalty?”
Maris opens her mouth, but can’t form the words.
Oded answers, “Her death.”
My heart pounds. Death? You could have me killed?
Instead of outrage, Kyran laughs. It starts as a breathy chuckle, then grows in volume until it echoes in the massive throne room. Most of the Elders look perplexed, brows furrowed; eyes squinting as if trying to decipher Kyran’s outburst.
Javan, however, and a few others, have faces of stone.
Kyran’s laughter softens. As he draws in a deep breath, a thought from someone in the room shoots into his mind, You would be greatly rewarded if you chose to punish her.
His gasp matches my own. He studies the faces around him, but none give away the identity of the traitor. What would you give me?
Land. Gold. Title.
My throat closes. A vice tightens around my chest.
Kyran continues to study the Elders. It would have to be substantial.
Name your price. It will be yours.
My lungs feel ready to explode, but all that escapes my throat is a soft mewl of disbelief. Would Kyran betray me so soon after he said he forgave me? I want to run away. Escape the castle before the guards come and throw me into the dungeon.
Wait. I don’t know if Kyran’s command was for me or the secret conspirator. His voice continues to whisper in my head. And if I want the kingdom, could you give it to me?
That I could not guarantee.
Kyran’s concentration rests on Javan for a moment.
But it is a possibility.
Kyran turns to gaze at Oded. “You think I would condemn the woman I love for money?”
Oded’s face betrays nothing, but his hand jerks suddenly, his fingers closing into a fist before opening again to rest by his thigh.
Maris’s eyes widen. “What did you say?”
Kyran’s anger surges through me like an ocean wave. He steps toward Oded. “You. You tried to buy my condemnation of the queen.”
It can’t be true. Not Oded.
Even as part of me denies it, another part of me pushes Kyran’s mind to open Oded’s thoughts to us both.
It floods us simultaneously. The knowledge of how deep his treachery goes. It was Oded who put the castings into my pillowcases. And even earlier, he weakened the barriers around the Fey so that the Black Guards could come through. He sent me to find Ginessa’s Glade knowing I would encounter Old Rab first. He never believed I could survive my encounter with the demon. And after that, he summoned the creature fr
om the abyss to kill me in the passage.
Oded’s mouth contorts as if he’s in pain. “Get out of my head!”
I’m forced to pull out as Kyran does, but then he pushes the images we’ve seen into the other Elders’ minds. They collectively groan as they understand what has happened.
Oded’s face is red with anger. “Fools!” he screams to those assembled. “You will condemn us all to die. That child cannot best the Mystics. We need someone strong in the coming battle.”
Javan stands up. “Oded is right. We will not survive this war without a true Elder on the throne.” He faces Kyran. “Condemn Alystrine so that we may elect a new leader.”
I rest my head in my hands, waiting for Kyran’s answer. My heartbeat pounds in my ears.
“Never.” Kyran’s voice rings throughout the throne room and reverberates in my mind. “I have heard her confession and her thoughts. She has done nothing deserving of death.” He bends to pick the crown up off the floor from where I’d left it. “Not one of you could have survived the things she has these past months. Alystrine has been chosen by Ruahk. I know it. The Mystics know it. Perhaps you are too blinded by your laws and regulations. You have forgotten the most important thing.”
Javan lets out a snort of disgust. “What is that?”
“Ruahk’s heart. Alystrine alone has the power, and the compassion, needed to rule this world as it should be ruled.”
Javan moves to stand by Oded. “Compassion will not save us from the Mystics. Nor will it give us the power we need to keep control of Ayden.” His right hand slips from his pocket as he grabs Oded’s hand with his left.
“Long live Ayden!” Oded cries as several more Council members come to his side. “And long live the Elders!”
I recognize the orb in Javan’s hand as an Elderstone as Kyran’s brain is suddenly wracked with pain. In an instant, our thoughts are separated and I am left with nothing but the echo of his scream in my head.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
A Pain Too Deep
I race toward the throne room, servants scattering out of my way. The guards in front of the door move to block me.
“Stand down!”
Their eyes flash with determination as they cross their spears, revealing they’ve been bought by Oded and Javen. One of them raises his weapon. Rage surges inside me. The purple Elderstone on my ring flares and shoots a blast of energy toward him. With a screech, he sails to the other side of the hall. Fear flashes behind the other man’s eyes as he takes a determined step toward me. Muttering curses, I thrust my hand out and a bolt of light sends him flying as well.
The great wooden door, solid and heavy, has been locked from the inside. I place both hands on the thick oak push. With a flash of purple light from my ring, it crashes to the ground with a thundering bang.
Oded and three others stand, each with one hand touching Javan on his shoulder or back. The Elderstone Javan holds above his head sends bolts of energy like spokes on a bicycle wheel to the Elders in the circle. Some, like Kyran, hold their hands to their heads, as if trying to block the pain. Others writhe on the ground, crying out in the excruciating agony I remember so well. I run toward Kennis, lying motionless and pale. The white energy pounding into her body turns lilac, then violet as I storm into the room.
The purple spokes abruptly release the Elders as Javan refocuses them into one solid beam I know he plans to cast at me.
I command the orb. “Come!”
The energy floods toward my open palms, joining with the light still pulsing from my ring. It gathers in front of me. Hot and powerful. Like my anger. The men behind Oded and Javan stare wide-eyed then rush for the doorway.
I can’t let them escape. The great wooden door rises off the floor and flies toward them. They crumple to the ground as they run into it.
I turn to face Javan and Oded. I’ve endured so much pain and betrayal because of them. The energy I hold grows even larger as my hatred swells. With one thrust of my hand I could kill them. I imagine them dancing in agony as the electricity burns through their bodies. It would be a glorious revenge.
“Alystrine!”
Kyran’s voice calls from somewhere far away. My need for vengeance ignores him. I want to toy with the traitors a little longer. I send them a vision of what I intend to do and watch with satisfaction as they see how they are going to die.
Kyran lays a cautious hand on my shoulder. “Alystrine! No!”
“Leave me alone! They deserve this.”
“But not from your hands. You are not a murderer.”
My jaws clench as I try to keep the power in my hands from striking out at him. “It would be justice. Not murder.”
“To strike them now, in your anger, would be murder. They will pay for what they have done. But not this way.”
He is right
To be merciful
Is more powerful
The voice from my Seclusion fills my head. Ruahk’s voice. I push it away as I shirk from Kyran’s touch. This retribution would feel so good. To finally punish someone for everything I’ve had to endure. For Tegan. For Josh.
“Alystrine,” Geran calls from where he sits hunched on the floor. “Don’t . . . .”
Do not
My fury still roils inside me, but I hold it back. My muscles tremble as I force myself to keep from hurling the fireball at my enemies. Javan and Oded stand frozen. They know if they move I will kill them. “Take the Elderstone from them.”
Kyran grabs the milky stone from Javan’s palm. As soon as he places it on the ground, a safe distance away, I release the energy to it until the stone glows brightly and I hold only a sphere of purple light the size of a baseball. I separate it into to two smaller orbs.
“You have underestimated me for the last time.” I throw the balls at Oded and Javan. Their bodies stiffen as they are engulfed in pain. I want to let them suffer longer, but know if I do, they will die. I pull the energy back and watch with satisfaction as they fall unconscious to the floor. I give the remaining light to the Elderstone, waiting until it returns to a soft lilac color before letting out the breath I didn’t know I held.
Geran picks the orb off the floor. “Amazing.”
Maris staggers to the traitors, falls to her knees, then feels for a pulse on Oded’s neck. “He’s alive.” She nods when she touches Javan’s neck. “He is, too.”
I resist the urge to kick them both and instead take several deep breaths through my nose, trying to calm the rage inside me.
My father rolls the Elderstone on the palm of his hand. “They will pay the price for their betrayal.”
Devnet helps his former teacher, Goram, to his feet. His dark skin is almost as pale as his white robe. He stares at me with an expression of awe. Or is it fear?
“I have heard stories,” Goram’s voice quivers, “about the Elders of old. Of how they could wield the power of the Messengers.” He steadies himself on Devnet’s arm. “But I never thought to see such a thing for myself.”
Is that what’s inside the Elderstones? The power of the Messengers? Some sort of supernatural energy from the beings that Ruahk created to serve him?
“Maris, come quick.” Quinn kneels over my mother. Everyone else in the room is at least sitting up again.
But not my mom.
Quinn lifts her off the floor so her head rests in his lap. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream. Her eyes are vacant. Seeing nothing.
Tears stream down Quinn’s cheeks as he shakes my mother. “My love . . . please . . . .”
Maris kneels down by his side. Her fingertips tremble as she reaches out to press them on my mother’s neck. She pulls her hand back and clutches it to her breast.
“Oh, Kennis.” Quinn presses my mother’s body to his and rocks. “My love . . . .”
A guttural scream rises from my soul, echoing off the throne room walls. I fling myself toward her, my ring glowing. I hold it out over her, please, please, please heal her.
“Bring her back!
” I scream, waiting for my ring to show me where she’s been wounded so I can use its power. Although radiant with purple light, it has no heat. No trace of the energy I used to heal Kyran.
Quinn lowers her to the floor. Her lifeless eyes stare past me. I howl in frustration and grief.
The Elderstone suddenly ignites with light and flames. Geran shouts and drops it to the floor. “Get her out of here! Before she loses control and kills us all.”
Kyran grabs me. His arms wrap around my shoulders and lifts me from the ground. My legs flail against him. I shriek in a whirlpool of fury and grief. His fingers dig into the flesh on my arms as he drags me into the hallway. I kick and hit and yell and bite but still he hangs on and pulls me away.
He tries to calm me but his words have no meaning. Just noise. Noise trying to drown out the maelstrom raging within me. Desperate to be free, I call out the only thing I know will make him release me. “Burn!”
Energy pulses out of me. Kyran yelps and pulls back his hands.
I step away from him, glad to be free, but horrified to see the blisters forming on his palms. Geran was right. I cannot control this power.
Kyran struggles to speak through his clenched jaw, but only hisses in pain.
I turn and flee, instinctively heading outside. Out to the hedge maze. To the marble bench stained with Josh’s blood. Another example of my failure.
A frigid wind whips at my cheeks when I open the door to the garden, stunning me. It only lasts a moment before I run for my sanctuary under a crimson and black sky. It’s as if my anger somehow colored it.
My bare feet crunch against the frozen grass. My toes and fingers are numb before I make it to the maze. By the time I reach the bench, I’m hobbling with my legs trembling so hard I miss the marble slab and fall to the ground. But I revel in the cold, thankful that something has quenched the inferno inside me. For the moment, at least, I can’t hurt anyone.
The temperature drops even further when the sun sets. My muscles shiver so violently, I couldn’t stand if I wanted to. I shut my eyes and pray to wake up from this nightmare. Maybe all of Ayden is a dream and I’ll wake up in my bed in Connecticut with my mother alive. I imagine telling Josh and Renee all about it as they drive me school. Josh will laugh and ask me if I ate too much chocolate while binge watching some show on Netflix.
