by Claire Frank
The door opened and the guard nodded her in. Mira stepped with her but Cecily held up her hand. “Stay out here. I need to see him alone.” Mira opened her mouth to protest, but Cecily walked into the study and shut the door behind her before Mira could follow.
The king stood behind his desk, conferring with Alastair over some paperwork. They both looked up at her abrupt entrance and Alastair dropped something to the floor.
She crossed the distance to the pair and looked at Alastair. His eyes were wide and he fumbled, apparently trying to decide if he should pick up the papers he’d dropped. She stopped in front of him and raised her chin. “I need to see Rogan. Alone.”
His mouth opened and he looked back and forth between Cecily and the king. “Excuse me?”
Rogan’s shoulders were set and his brow furrowed. “It’s okay, Alastair. Allow me to speak with Cecily for a moment. Please.” He gestured to the door.
Alastair looked to Cecily again, confusion plain on his face. She was past caring. He walked away and she waited for the click of the door as it closed behind him.
She stood across the desk from Rogan and pulled out the note Callum had given her. She tossed it on the desk, recrossed her arms, and stared at Rogan.
He picked up the note and his brow furrowed as he read the contents. “Where did you get this?” he asked as he folded the note and tucked it into his doublet.
“I hardly think that matters. Who is Nihil?”
Rogan looked down for a moment before answering. “Nihil is... a mess I am trying to clean up.”
Cecily narrowed her eyes. “Do you admit you’ve been working with him?”
Rogan’s face was unreadable. “In a manner of speaking, yes. But it is a relationship that has not been without difficulties.”
“Does Nihil have Daro?” She paused and held his gaze. “Do not lie to me.”
Rogan’s face remained composed. He pulled out the chair from behind his desk and sat down. Cecily remained standing, her eyes fixed on her king.
After a long pause, he looked up at her and spoke. “Yes.”
Cecily’s neck stiffened and her voice was low. “How long have you known?”
“It’s complicated.”
Her hands trembled and her heart raced. She struggled to keep her voice even. “Complicated? How can this be complicated? I came to you looking like I’d lost a tavern brawl after they tried to kill me. You said you’d help. But you knew? Damn you, Rogan.”
He held a hand up. “I only suspected Nihil at that point. I didn’t know anything for certain.”
“You should have told me. You could have at least given me his name, given me something to go on. We’ve been working for months, trying to find out who did this.”
“I wanted to get to Nihil myself. My hope was that he would release Daro to me and we could resolve this quietly.”
Cecily’s anger burned hot, but as much as she wanted to hurl obscenities at Rogan, she needed to find out what he knew. “Who is he? Why did he take Daro?”
Rogan pitched his fingers together under his chin. “Nihil is something I inherited from my predecessor. He was working for Hadran, and when the dust settled after the war, he came to me and explained his work. He was researching Wielding Energy and claimed to have found a way to increase a Wielder’s power. He convinced me of the importance of what he was doing, and my position was still so tenuous. I let him continue.”
“Why would he have been working with Hadran? Isn’t that something the Lyceum would oversee?”
“Quite honestly, I don’t know. My greatest mistake in all this is failing to find out enough about Nihil’s background. One of my contacts at the Lyceum recently told me he may have been denied entrance. And if what I suspect about his work is true, the Lyceum would never have allowed it.”
“I still don’t understand why he would want Daro. He isn’t a Wielder.”
Rogan shook his head. “I don’t know the answer to that either.”
Cecily walked over to the window and looked out over the gardens below. The plants looked gray and tired, weighed down by the rain. “Please tell me you know where to find him.”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” Rogan said. “I haven’t been successful at finding his location. The men I sent haven’t returned.”
Cecily felt hollow. “How could you let this happen?”
Rogan rose from his seat and stood behind her. “I didn’t realize what Nihil was doing until it was too late. I thought…” He paused. “I don’t know what I thought. I have been so wrapped up in other things, I let Nihil go about his business and didn’t ask very many questions.”
Cecily turned to look at him. “Busy? That’s your reason? You were too busy?”
“I am the king. Every day I make decisions that affect the life of every person in this kingdom. I still have nobles plotting behind my back and the Lyceum trying to grab power out from under me, not to mention threats from outside the kingdom. You have no idea the pressures I am under.” He pressed his fingers to his eyes. “Damn it, Cecily, I’ve needed you and Daro here. You never should have left Halthas in the first place.”
Her mouth dropped open. “So this is my fault because I left Halthas?”
“That’s not what I’m saying. I just…” He trailed off and turned back toward the window. “You have no idea what’s coming. It’s been generations since we had to fight anyone but ourselves. The nobles all think we’re impenetrable, but they’re wrong. This palace, the Lyceum, all the trade that flows in and out of our city, it all makes us a target. It’s only a matter of time before someone shows up on our doorstep with an army we didn’t see coming, and we won’t be prepared. I can’t let that happen.”
She narrowed her eyes, as her anger rose again. “That’s why you let Nihil continue working, isn’t it? You weren’t too busy to handle it. Whatever it is he’s doing, you want what he’s promised you. And if you take Daro back, he might not give you what you want.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“No, nothing is simple with kings, is it?” she said. “I knew Hadran, and what he was capable of. I would have expected something like this from him. But you? I thought you were different.”
Rogan’s eyes widened and his hand drifted absently to his chest. “I’m not Hadran,” he said, his voice cold. “You don’t understand what it is to be the king.”
“I suppose now you’re going to tell me it was all for the good of the kingdom.”
“And what if it was?” he said, his voice rising. “We both know what it is to do things that are in the best interest of the kingdom, even at a hazard to ourselves.”
She laughed, a short clipped sound with little humor in it. “You colluded with the men who took my husband and lied to me about it. And now you want me to believe you did it for the good of the kingdom? Very noble of you.”
“Ah yes, noble,” he said. “How noble we were, as we hid under the depths of the city and plotted treason. I don’t recall either of us worrying about nobility in those days.”
She whirled on him. “That treason made you king, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Yes, it did. And now we’re hailed as heroes.”
“There’s only one difference between a traitor and a hero.” She looked up and met his eyes. “Whether he ends up on the winning side.”
Rogan sighed. “Be that as it may, you know as well as I do, there is nothing simple about the lives we lead. I always have to work for the good of the kingdom. This was no different.”
“It’s completely different! Nihil has been abducting people for years. Let’s pretend for a moment that it wasn’t Daro—forget that he was your friend. These are still your subjects. People’s lives are being destroyed.”
He shook his head. “Yes, and I’m sure someone like you wouldn’t ever be a party to destroying lives.”
Her heart raced and her fingers tingled. She spoke through clenched teeth. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You know exa
ctly what I mean. You hide it so well, but I know who you were. I know how you helped Hadran. You want to talk of destroying lives? How many did you destroy for him?”
“I never would have betrayed someone I cared for.”
His eyes rose. “So there’s nothing wrong with what you did for Hadran because they weren’t people you cared about?”
Her voice rose to a shout. “I never once said there was nothing wrong with what I did. I have to live with it every single day of my life. That, and more. You want to talk of pressure? You have no idea how much blood I have on my hands.”
“Then stop lecturing me about what’s right,” he snapped.
Her anger began to boil over. She clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms. “You want to talk about the past? Fine, let’s talk about the past. How many times did Daro save your life? How many times, when we thought we were done for, did he bring us back from the brink? I don’t care what has happened since then. I don’t care about the threats you see or the pressures you’re under. There is nothing that makes this right.”
Rogan reached a hand out to her. “Cecily, please.”
“No,” she said, and the word sliced the air between them. “This is your fault. You let this happen. You always wanted us to come back. How do I know you didn’t plan this from the beginning? How do I know Nihil isn’t getting ready to deliver Daro right back into your hands?”
“You can’t believe that.”
“I don’t know what to believe.” Her voice rose again. “I trusted you. I trusted you with his life. His life, Rogan. You were supposed help me, with all your resources. Do you have any idea what I would do for him? What I have done for him?” Her hands trembled. She walked toward him and stopped just inches from his face. “I have done the worst of things to keep him safe. And I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.”
Rogan’s eyes widened, and he leaned back. He opened his mouth, but no words came.
“I want you to understand something,” she said, her voice low. “There is only one reason you will live past this moment. If I kill you now, your guards outside will probably kill me. And if I die today, no one will save Daro.” She held his gaze and watched his eyes look her up and down.
He took a step backward. “Cecily, you’re angry. You shouldn’t say such things.”
“Why not?” she said, her voice hushed. “I killed a king before. I could do it again.” The words escaped her lips and hung between them, thick like fog.
“What are you saying? You didn’t kill Hadran.”
She drew in a breath. Her heart beat fast and her shoulders knotted with tension. She’d never spoken the words aloud, not even to Daro. “Yes, I did. I killed Hadran.”
Rogan shook his head. “No, you didn’t. It was Nolan. They killed each other. Nolan sacrificed himself for all of us.”
“I let you believe that. But I was there. I was supposed to keep Nolan hidden. You remember the plan. It failed. We failed. Hadran saw him coming and sucked the heat out of him. His body was blue and stiff before he hit the floor.” Visions of that terrible night floated through her mind. She had promised herself she would take the truth to her grave, but there was something freeing about saying the words aloud, even in anger. “So I killed him.”
“How?” he asked in a half whisper, as if he wasn’t certain he wanted to know.
“I Reached into his chest and found his heart. I wrapped my Energy around it and I squeezed.” She looked up and met Rogan’s eyes. “I gripped it with Pressure until it burst. I could feel the blood pour out and drain into his chest. It felt like it was all over me, like my hands should be covered in it.”
Rogan’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide. He stepped backward. “Oh gods, Cecily,” he whispered. He put his hand to his mouth and turned away. Cecily stared at the floor, trembling. The enormity of her admission stunned her into silence.
He turned back to face her. “There’s no shame in what you did,” he said, his voice firm. “It was war. We all did what had to be done. It is as simple as that.”
“For the good of the kingdom,” she said.
Rogan nodded. “Yes, exactly. For the good of the kingdom.”
Cecily shook her head, a slow back and forth motion. She broke her gaze from the floor and looked up at her king. “I didn’t do it for the good of the kingdom. I did it because I knew if Hadran lived to draw one more breath, he would call for his guards. And I knew Daro was in the hallway, just outside. If the guards came, there was no way he would get out alive. I didn’t kill Hadran to make you king, or to save our kingdom. I killed him to save Daro.”
Rogan stared at her, his mouth open. His face softened and some of the warmth returned to his eyes. He almost looked like the man she remembered.
“There was a time I would have followed you anywhere,” she said. Her chest felt tight and her hands still trembled. “The only thing you need to do now is stay out of my way.”
She spun around, walked to the door, and threw it open. The two guards outside had to stumble out of the way. Mira and Alastair both waited outside, but she ignored them and strode down the hallway without a word.
***
Cecily sat at Callum’s table in the Ale Stone and folded her hands in front of her. She sat up straight, her shoulders relaxed and eyes clear. She had found one of Callum’s young messengers and sent him off with a folded note, telling Callum to meet her. The buzz of a dozen conversations hovered in the air, an occasional voice carrying over the din. A pair of men sat nearby, tossing cards onto the table, pushing around small piles of coins. It seemed to Cecily they kept passing the same stack of coins back and forth as each won the next hand.
Callum arrived, tossing a quick glance over his shoulder, and dropped into a chair. “I’m surprised you’re back so soon. What did our magnanimous king have to say for himself?”
Cecily’s voice was crisp, her mind resolved. “Nothing worth repeating. Whoever Nihil is, he does indeed have Daro. Now we just have to find out where they are.”
“Rogan didn’t know?”
“No. Rogan’s been lying to cover his tracks, but I don’t think he was lying about that. It’s up to us, now.”
One corner of Callum’s mouth curled in a smirk and he raised his eyebrows. “What’d you do to him?”
“Nothing.” Callum’s face sank with disappointment. “Believe me, part of me wanted to. But I thought it best I get out of the palace today. I can’t help Daro if I’m stuck on the sharp end of a spear.”
“Fair point. Okay, you tell me. What’s our move?”
“You were already on the right track. We find out where the smugglers are taking their shipments, we find Nihil. The question is, how do we do that?”
He raised a finger and pointed at her. “That I can help you with. I have reason to believe a certain Guildmaster is taking bribes to turn a blind eye to their shipments and let them in through the river.” He paused and brushed his hair from his eyes. “We’re going to have to go in, and his estate will be guarded. You sure you’re up for this?”
Her lips turned up in a smile that held no warmth. “Absolutely.”
24. FINDING CONTROL
The brisk air in the courtyard made Number One’s skin prickle. He sat on a slab of stone and the cold soaked in through his pants. The air smelled wet with recent rain, the plants drinking it up eagerly, as the moss and ferns spread through the cracks in the stone. He resisted the sudden urge to remove his mask and let the cold air brush his face.
He plucked a fern frond and trailed his fingers across the leaf to feel the life pulsing through the plant. It was almost warm against his cold touch. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then turned back to the leaf. It began to wilt as the ends of each frond curled toward the center, turning brown and dry. He felt the plant’s energy trickle into him, a tiny green line that seeped into his body. He pulled more and a crackling frost spread over the leaf as he took its heat. He crumpled it in his hand, and the frosted, dead leaf disin
tegrated between his fingers, falling like dust to the cobblestones below.
The others milled about the cobblestone courtyard, all dressed as he was, in black with masked faces. A few practiced with weapons. They slashed at each other with swords or shot targets with arrows. Number Four sat cross-legged on the ground, picking up small stones. He squeezed them until they glowed red hot, then threw them into a puddle. They hissed as they hit the water, curls of steam rising into the air, then popped with a loud crack. Number Six stood with his back to the others and ran his hands up and down a thick bramble that trailed along the wall. Number One watched as he coaxed it higher. The vines grew thick as he ran his hands up and down the plant. The thorns grew, black spikes protruding from the thickening vines, and the largest ones leaked a glistening drop of liquid from their tips. He dabbed the liquid with his finger and plucked the largest thorns, twisting them until they broke free, and collected them in a pouch.
Number One stood at the sound of footsteps behind him. Sindre sauntered toward him, her predatory eyes shining in the gray daylight. He saw Sindre less and less as time went on, but the sight of her always made his implant tingle. The others all stopped what they were doing and watched as she led a tall man, masked and dressed in black as they all were, toward Number One.
The man stopped as Sindre did, halting a few steps behind her. His eyes darted around the courtyard and his hands twitched at his sides. The other subjects began to meander toward her; Sindre drew them like a warm fire on a freezing night.
Number One peered at the man. He was well over a head taller than Sindre, his wide shoulders dwarfing the woman. As he looked carefully, Number One could see swirling colors in the man’s eyes, silver mixed with streaks of brown and blue. Silver. This was him, then.
“Number One,” Sindre said, her voice a purr that sent shivers down his spine, “this is Number Fourteen. It is Nihil’s wish that you work with him, help him to harness and utilize his new abilities.” She turned to Number Fourteen. His hands twitched and his eyes flicked from Sindre to Number One. “I am leaving you in the hands of Number One. I will return for you later.”
