by Casey Odell
“Look at me,” he said a little more forcefully.
This time she did. Slowly. His face was hard to read, but she could see the hurt, the pain, slipping through his mask. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
He closed his eyes for a second as if he were letting her words sink in.
“I’m sorry that I used you.” Her throat grew tight, making it hard to speak. But she had to tell him. She owed him the truth, or part of the truth, at least. “I just wanted to forget, everything, if even for just a little while. I know I shouldn’t have, but…” Guilt filled her up to the brim. She had wanted to forget. But it was so much more than that. She couldn’t tell him that, however, no matter how much she wanted to. The more she said, the worse she felt, as if she were finally admitting the truth to herself, though deep down she’d known it all along. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean for it to go this far.”
“Claire…” he said, his voice soft. He lifted a hand to her cheek.
She backed away from his touch, knowing if he did she would cave, lose all her resolve, and then all this would have been for nothing. He lowered his hand slowly, and she could almost hear his heart break into a million little pieces. And she hated herself for it.
“Being with me will only cause you more pain,” she said softly. “You should go. You don’t belong here anymore. I don’t need your protection anymore. It’s not your job. It never really was.”
“Last night…”
“Was a mistake,” she said. “I shouldn’t have…” She took a breath to gather herself. “Remember when you told me that the General doesn’t deserve me? The truth is, I don’t deserve you. You’re good, Farron. You really are. You should find someone that will appreciate you, that will love you and show you the same type of devotion you’ve shown me.” She looked up at him one last time, braved what she would find. “It’s because of me that you are here, that you left the forest, risked your life. I’ll never be able to repay you for the things you have done for me. I’m sorry, I truly am.” Then she spun away from him and took off down the hall, sobbing freely.
After all that she’d been through, she was still a coward. Her feet carried her swiftly through the dark corridors, refusing to look back. It was done. There was no turning back. She had to reach Lianna. To tell her what she had done. To hear that she wasn’t a bad person. To know that in the end, she’d done the right thing.
“It’s done,” Claire said softly.
King Líadan looked up from his massive, but somehow elegant desk, covered in scrolls. He held a quill above the paper with a look of mild surprise on his face.
It was done three days ago to be exact. But this was the first time she’d been able to track down the king and face him.
She looked a mess, from a combination of lack of sleep and tears and stress. Her eyes felt sore and puffy. The pendant had worked at keeping the nightmares at bay, but not the tears. She felt terrible, sad, and worst of all, alone. That damn elf. She’d known he was trouble the first time she laid eyes on him. Lianna had done her best to try and comfort her, by telling her that she’d done the right thing in the end. Her sense of ease only to be destroyed a moment later when she had told her Farron had never looked so miserable. She felt awful for what she had done to him, for how she did it. But there were other matters that needed her attention. Matters that would help distract her as she waited for his inevitable departure from the palace, and ultimately, her life.
“What you asked of me.” She clasped her hands in front of her, feeling wholly underdressed in her simple white dress. The only thing she’d felt like doing was to allow Marla to tie back her hair in a loose bun.
King Líadan leaned back in his chair, amusement glinting in his eyes. “It seems that you are more resolute than you look.” He stood and slowly made his way around to stand in front of her. “This information I already know. I have seen the devastating effects for myself. But I suppose that is not the real reason why you are here, is it?”
Claire looked up at the king, gathering her strength. Light from the setting sun glared in through a wall of diamond shaped glass behind the desk to fall on half of his face, leaving the other half in shadow. Dressed simply in an ivory colored shirt, half unbuttoned, and black slacks, he looked almost normal. The most normal she’d ever seen him, though she knew he was anything but. He was the most powerful man she’d ever met and she was about to confront him. One wrong word and the rest of her life could be spent in the dungeons.
“Is—” she began but faltered. She took a breath and tried again, “Is it true?”
“I do not know of what you speak.”
“The attacks,” she said more forcefully, letting anger help fuel her confidence.
He just looked at her, his face becoming blank.
“Answer me, damn it!”
After a moment he simply said, “Yes.”
Everything seemed to slow at that moment. “Why?” she asked, her voice breathy. Shocked. She felt like she’d just been stabbed through the chest, a pain that seemed to clench her lungs, making it hard to breathe. Deep down she’d hoped the General’s words had been a lie. A ruse to turn her against the king and the Council.
“I think you know why.” His voice softened as he glanced at the mark.
She hid her arm behind her back, away from his prying eyes. “That’s… that’s how you were going to find us?” She remembered how he had seemed hesitant to answer how he was going to find her kind, deep down in that cave-like room with the map.
“The Council. Once they found how your powers awakened, there was no stopping them. They went behind my back, Claire. I did not know of it until the orders were already given,” he said carefully. “However, even though it was not my doing, I made no move to stop it either. We both seek your kind, albeit for very different reasons. I do not agree with what they have done, what is happening. I was just desperate enough to look the other way.”
Claire’s head swam, the room around her seemed to blur. She felt like she was going to be sick. “You, how could you?” She clenched her hands tight at her sides. Beating the king would do her no good. She’d see the dungeon before she’d ever see the light of day again.
“I am not evil, Claire.”
“There are people dying! I’ve lost my home, and who knows how many others have! You may not have given the order, but you are doing nothing to stop it. That makes you a monster.”
“If I do nothing to try and restore the magic back to the land, then your town would be gone regardless,” he said, authority returning to his voice. “It is only a matter of time before the plague reaches the east. Then it would not only be your town but all the towns, cities, forests, crops. Nothing will be left. What is happening to my people, I would not wish it upon even my worst of enemies. Because in the end, it is always the innocent that suffers the most. A few lives are a small price to pay for the good of all the land and people.”
“There has to be another way!” she yelled, frantic. Tears threatened at her eyes. “Something so low and barbaric… your father would be ashamed. I hear he was a great king.”
“And yet here you stand before me.” Ice laced the king’s voice. “I am deeply sorry for what you have lost. But, however cruel and horrific the plan is, you can’t deny that it had worked.”
Claire dug her nails into her palms, taking deep breaths in an effort to restrain her fury. A battle that she was rapidly losing. She wasn’t even going to entertain the possibility of him being right because he wasn’t. What he was doing, what was happening, was wrong. Deplorable. Sickening.
“Did he know?” She was seething at even the possibility. Was it possible Farron had known all along? Her stomach swirled, making her feel even sicker.
“Did who?”
“Farron! Did he know?”
“No, and I would like to keep it that way. No one but the elders and I know, not even their new pet Razi. Not even Lianna. I am not proud of it, Claire. The fact that
those old men went behind my back shows how little they respect me as king. I’m sure they plan to rid of me, just like my father. They really aren’t fond of complications. And I’m the biggest thorn in their side.” He gave her a considering look. “And that begs the question, how is it my newest little bird has figured it out when so many before her have not?”
“Perhaps because it’s not as well hidden as you had hoped,” she said, coming to her senses a little. “The emissary from Lendon is more than he seems. He has a keen eye for those that are as similar as he.”
“A keen eye indeed,” the king said, frowning.
“You can’t let this go on.”
“What choice do I have? My troops are all dispensed to Zaqar and the western coast. And those old men will not listen to me.”
“Send me,” she suggested suddenly, the thought popping out of her mouth before she could even think about what she was suggesting.
He gave her a skeptical look.
She straightened and looked him in the eye. No, this was exactly what she wanted, what she had to do. She was tired of feeling helpless. “Send me to look for them.” Besides, it was better than having to potentially fight another Great Beast.
“What can you hope to accomplish?”
“Three months. That is all I ask. Get them to stop the attacks for just that long, and I will find the rest of us.”
His dark eyes studied her for a long moment, full of doubt. “Do you really think you can? With that thing?” He looked at her arm, at the mark creeping up past her elbow.
“Can you do that?” she asked, ignoring his question. “Is it possible to make them stop?”
He raked a hand through the soft waves of his hair. “I can ask them, but it would be up to you to convince them.”
Claire gulped. What did that mean? How exactly was she supposed to do that? But she was determined. Anything, if it would stop the attacks. “I will. If I have to sell them my soul, I will.”
“Do you even know how long you have left?” the king asked solemnly. Pity reached his eyes. “Are you sure you want to spend that time searching for something you may not find?”
“Yes,” she said, trying her best to make it sound confident. The truth was, the thought terrified her. Was she willing to spend possibly the rest of her days on a mission that may not even be a success? What about her mother? Surely she’d understand more than anyone. An overwhelming sense of responsibility came over her. She couldn’t not do it. She would regret the rest of her life, no matter how short it may be, if she were to just sit by and let such a thing happen. She’d been searching for a way to end the attacks, and now there was an opportunity to actually do it. “If it will bring peace, if even for the shortest time, if I could spare even one person from what I have been through, then it would be the least I could do.”
“Very well. I will see what I can do,” he said. “In the meantime, I would prepare your soul, because that is just what you may have to give in order to get what you ask.”
“Don’t let them scare you,” King Líadan said, turning to her. He put his hands on her shoulders.
They stood outside a closed set of massive mahogany doors somewhere deep in the palace. Two guards stood on either side in light armor, staring straight ahead, a spear in their right hands.
Not even two days after her request, the Council had agreed to see her. A short notice, according to the king, only helped by the fact that they were already in the city for the ball. Even then they weren’t known to gather on unplanned days. It seemed they were eager to hear what she had to say.
“The room, the darkness,” he continued. “It’s a trick of light to make you feel small and intimidated, but really they just don’t want you to see how old and frail they actually are.” A slight smile crossed his face. He looked magnificent, dressed like the king he was in an embroidered tailored jacket.
She nodded quietly and took a deep breath, glad that she’d thought to dress a little nicer for the occasion. Another one of Lianna’s picks, the dress was made of a deep purple silk with a plunging neckline and a wide tie round her waist. Long sleeves helped to hide the mark on her arm. The less the Council knew of the state of it, the better.
The king turned toward the doors and gave a curt nod to the guard on the right. Immediately and without a word, they moved to open the doors, slowly pushing their massive weight inwards. When there was enough room, King Líadan entered, strolling confidently into the room without waiting for her.
Quickly, Claire ran shaking hands down her dress and over her hair, making sure the braided up-do Marla had done was still in place. She took a deep breath, and then another, her nerves on edge. She could do this. She had to do this.
Claire stepped into the dark room. Tall ceilings stretched up into the darkness, supported on both sides of her by great columns, flames burning on pedestals between them. The room stretched before her in a sort of short corridor, where it opened up at the end to a rounded area. It was there that the Council sat. Three levels of stands stood in a semi-circle around a small open area. Bright light streamed in from the ceiling onto the floor before the Council, but fell off sharply, shrouding them in darkness.
Two more guards stood on either side at the end of the small corridor.
“All stand for His Majesty, King Líadan,” boomed the guard on the left when the king walked past him.
Without pause, King Líadan climbed a set of stairs to the side up to the first level and took a seat in the middle.
Claire squinted, her eyes adjusting to the darkness, making out the dim shapes of the men.
“Come forward, child,” the king demanded.
She took another breath, summoning her courage, then stepped into the circle of light. A cold sweat swept over her, her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. She was the center of attention, and she didn’t like it. The thick doors closed behind her with a deafening thud, causing her to jump slightly.
“Councilmen, I introduce to you the newest guest to the palace,” King Líadan announced. “Miss Claire Tanith.”
Claire curtsied, bowing her head low. Whispers filled the room.
“This is her?” she heard a gruff voice to the left say.
“Much smaller than I thought,” came a higher voice to the right. “What will be next, a child?”
She straightened, throwing her shoulders back and holding her head high. She clasped her trembling hands in front of her, hoping they wouldn’t notice. They could talk all they wanted. She may not look all that impressive, but she was more formidable than she looked.
“My—” she tried, her voice faltering. She cleared her throat and tried again. “My lords.”
They didn’t seem to notice her greeting through their whispering. She spotted the king, her eyes adjusting finally. He sat back in a great chair, half hidden by a thick stone ledge rising up in front of him. She tried searching for the older man she’d met before, but their faces were too dark. The king was the only one she could see even somewhat clearly. For a brief moment, she wondered if that was on purpose.
“My lords,” he called out, his words echoing through the room. The men grew silent. “We may discuss my lady’s shortcomings, or we could be gentlemen and hear what she has to say. It is why we gathered here, after all.”
Some of the men mumbled softly, shifting in their seats.
The king raised an eyebrow, waiting, urging her to speak.
“My lords,” she said again, meekly, aware of their eyes on her. She couldn’t see them, but she could feel them. Watching her, studying her, judging her. She swallowed hard, remembering the king’s words of wisdom before they’d entered. They were just old men. Shadows. “I-I have a request.”
“A request?” asked the gruff voice from before. “And why should we listen when you haven’t even pledged allegiance yet?”
“I—” The question threw her off guard. And angered her a little. Shouldn’t they be the ones trying to woo her to their side? She didn’t owe these men anythin
g. They’d taken her prisoner against her will. And to top it all off, they were the ones responsible for destroying her home, her life. She glared at the gruff-voiced shadow to the left. “I would not swear an oath of loyalty to monsters such as you.”
The room erupted in shouts and cries then.
Claire almost immediately regretted saying such a thing. Surely she would be sent to the dungeons. But it was the truth. She couldn’t forget why she was here. To clean up their mess.
“We could have you whipped with that sort of talk!” shouted a heavily accented voice to the right.
Claire cringed at the thought, cursing her careless actions. If attacking innocent people wasn’t beneath them, who knew what they’d do to her, no matter how much they wanted her.
“At ease, my lords,” boomed the king once again.
Slowly the room settled down into order.
“My lady only speaks so boldly because it seems she has found out about our rather regrettable… actions.”
Silence fell over the room. She could feel their eyes on her again, but instead of judgment and curiosity, she felt something darker. Their secret was out. She knew they were trying to figure out what to do with her now. Throw her into the dungeons, execute her perhaps, but they still needed her. She thought of Sir Holden in the city and his missing tongue, and shuddered. It would be best to watch her tongue more carefully, figuratively and literally.
“And what, perchance, would this request be?” asked a low, clear voice on the bottom right. “Would it come at the cost of your silence?”
“If that is what is needed, then so be it,” she said. She didn’t like it, but it could be the only way they would grant it. And keep her tongue where it belonged.
“Then, by all means, speak,” demanded the low voice.
“A-as His Majesty has said, I know of your deeds, how you are using the centaurs to hunt for my… kind.” Her voice lost its edge a little. “My request is that you send me instead to go look for them.”
Another round of whispers swept over the group. The king steepled his hands under his chin, his eyes trained on her. It was now up to her to convince them. A task, judging by their reaction to her, that now seemed greater than she had expected.
