Princess Reviled

by Butler, J. M.

  Heavy booted footsteps sounded outside the courtyard. Vorec strode through the entrance nearest her, his face a storm cloud and his glare fierce. "You will come with me now."

  Amelia glanced up from the supply table but continued wrapping bandages in a loose loop around her arm in preparation for the next patient. "I'm rather busy at the moment. What do you need, Elder Commander Vorec?"

  "You are coming with me now." Vorec grabbed her by the arm. "You have some explaining to do, woman."

  "Sir," Skelt said, crossing the room. He arched his thin silver eyebrows, tilting his head forward with a disapproving stare. "The princess has been assisting me all day. We have nearly finished tending all the patients. If you need to speak with her, do so later…and with respect."

  Vorec's eyes narrowed. "Traitors, no matter their title, do not warrant respect." He tugged Amelia forward. "You will walk, or I will—"

  "Let go of my arm, Vorec," Amelia said icily. She jerked free and then smoothed the bandages back out. "There is no reason for you to treat me this way." She turned to Skelt. "If you'll excuse me, doctor, I'm afraid I'll have to be going. The elder commander has another charge to bring against me. Apparently persecuting me is more important than the sick and wounded of Libysha receiving care."

  "They will receive it. Just not from you. Now come with me." Vorec seized her by the arm again and dragged her out of the room. Amelia hurried along beside him, his grip pinching her arm. He held her arm up high enough to make it even more uncomfortable as he dragged her around the corner and to the dungeon.

  "What is your problem?" Amelia demanded. She almost tripped down the steep stairs. "Let go of me, Vorec!"

  "I know you, you wretched little creature," Vorec snarled. "I know what you are and what you are capable of." He shoved her down the rest of the stairs and into the dungeon.

  Amelia caught her balance, thrusting her hand against the wall and seizing the railing. Her arm struck the iron keys hanging at the ring on the bottom landing.

  The dungeon was as calm as when she had first brought the brothers here. WroOth rested on the bench at the far end of his cell, and Naatos sat upright, rigid against the wall. Though he saw her, his only response was the slightest narrowing of his eyes. AaQar still slept, but the navy blanket with the buckles was gone. Thankfully.

  "You are the foulest and most evil of creatures," Vorec growled.

  Amelia straightened, regaining her balance and her strength. She set her hands on her hips and turned to face him. "You're right. I am evil. I'm so evil that I spent my entire day tending to the sick and wounded people of Libysha. I even put herbs in bandages and made poultices to soothe headaches, stomachaches, and phantom pains. I'm beyond reprehensible. Why don't you lock me up and explain that to my father when he returns?"

  Vorec grabbed for her shoulder, but she sidestepped him.

  "You don't touch me," she said.

  Vorec jabbed his finger at AaQar's cell. "What do you see in there?"

  "Is this a trick question?" Amelia glanced in, pretending to survey the cell for clues. "It's AaQar. Isn't he where he's supposed to be?"

  "What do you see?" Vorec lowered his voice.

  Amelia shrugged. As best she could see, Dian had left nothing behind to implicate her. Yet Vorec's suspicions were so strong they stung her forehead and wrists and cut even into her heart. "He's sleeping?"

  "He is no longer dying."

  "Ah!" Amelia smiled, returning her gaze to his. She lifted her hands as if grateful. "Well, assuming you can tell from this distance, you were right, weren't you? Elonumato provided a way. He must want AaQar to live."

  Vorec's posture tensed. "I think we both know what happened." He paced the outer wall, avoiding coming within arm's reach of the cells. "If you confess, I will not have you flogged. I will instead have you placed under guard in your chambers until your father returns so that he can decide what to do with you."

  Amelia tilted her head as if confused. "I didn't come down here until you brought me. I have obeyed my father's commands. What do I have to confess?"

  Vorec gestured once more toward AaQar's cell, his movements becoming wilder. "You are the reason that skinchanger is improving. And—"

  "Wait, wait, wait." Amelia held up her hands, scowling. "I thought I was a pinchat. A skinchanger's whore. Isn't that what you called me? In fact, if I recall, you said my only skill was in spreading my legs even though I'm not really good at that either. How does that skillset translate into magically healing someone in a guarded cell?"

  Vorec glared at her, the silence growing in tension with each breath. Rage burned in him, knotting in his veins and pulsing in his eyes. "I do not know how you did it. I only know you did. This is all your doing. You wanted to come down here."

  "Your faith in me is almost…encouraging." Amelia returned his gaze. "As far as my wanting to come down here, yes. I know that these three need to be alive to restore the Tue-Rah. Someone needed to do something. Thank heavens Elonumato intervened."

  "It was you."

  "Please." Amelia rolled her eyes. "I'm not Elonumato. And only one of us has the stones to do something even close to that." She fanned herself, hoping the motion would disrupt the physical discomfort his presence brought. "And given that my father doesn't want me down here anyway, I think I should be returning to my chambers."

  "One moment." Vorec turned to face Naatos. "You want your wife back, don't you, skinchanger?"

  Naatos stared at him in silence, his expression masked and yet vaguely sinister.

  "Was she down here?" Vorec demanded.

  Naatos stood and then scanned Vorec as if assessing him. The tension intensified. "I see no purpose in conversing with you. You are vulgar, small, and contemptible. But do not feel relief at my inaction. Fear it. Because so long as you are here, so long as you antagonize my wife, I will memorize every detail of your face, your bearing, your scent. And as I memorize it, I will revel in my plans for the horrors I will inflict on you when these doors break open. Because when my brothers and I are free, I assure you that we will find you, and when we do…oh…there is no course by which your frail mind can even begin to conceive the agony and the terror you will endure. You will pray such a place as hell is real simply to be free from me."

  A chill shuddered through Amelia. She crossed her arms, applying stronger pressure to her elmis. At least she didn't immediately or automatically know what Naatos was thinking. His manner terrified her, though at this point he spoke in her defense. "In case you need a translation," she said, looking to Vorec. "That means no."

  "You then." Vorec pointed at WroOth.

  WroOth looked up from the back of his cell.

  "I know you want your little whore back. Tell me the truth, and I'll leave her with you."

  "My whore?" WroOth repeated. He shook his head. "Has anyone ever told you how utterly repugnant you are?"

  "Answer me!" Vorec stepped up to the cell, jabbing his arm through the bars. "If you ever want to see her again, answer me now."

  WroOth lunged at him.

  Vorec barely managed to stumble back in time. He crashed against the opposing wall as WroOth laughed.

  WroOth pressed his face against the bars, the light glinting in his eyes. "If you want to die, call my sister a whore again. Or call her any of the other names you deem offensive."

  "That also means no," Amelia said. "And by the way, that white line around the cells is a no crossing zone. If you do, you'll be within arm's reach, and that would probably go badly for you."

  WroOth growled low in his throat. "Don't tell him that, dear heart." He looked back at Vorec. The snarl curled at his lips. "And you, you must not have even half a wit to consider making such threats. Tell me, sister, if you won't let him come close enough for me to show him a Vawtrian response, what are some of the Eiram people's obscene gestures so that I may more fully demonstrate my disregard for this man."

  Vorec stood. He straightened his uniform and spat on the ground at Amelia. "Whore."<
br />
  Amelia rolled her eyes. "There's really so much I could take issue with here, but you know whores are generally in the business of pleasing people. You don't need to insult them by calling me one. They're actually good at what they do, including making people happy. And that is clearly not one of my gifts."

  Vorec seized a bucket of water from the far table and flung it into AaQar's cell. The icy water soaked AaQar.

  AaQar's eyes opened. "Pull out his eyeballs," he muttered. Slowly he sat up.

  "Albino, listen to me." Vorec jerked Amelia in front of AaQar's cell. "Has this creature been down here?"

  "You woke me up to ask if someone has been down here?" AaQar pushed the long white hair from his face, heaved a low sigh, and then yawned. "No. One would think she might, given that she is family and she claims she is responsible for us. But no. She has not been down here since yesterday. And I will not forget what happened. Now go away."

  For a moment, AaQar's gaze flitted to Amelia. His eyes were clearer. Amelia wondered if she even glimpsed a hint of color, the palest shade of cornflower blue. The slightest hint of a smile tugged at his lips before it vanished. He rested his head back against the thin pillows. "Stupid Awdawms. It's as if they have forgotten Vawtrians heal themselves." He raised his voice. "The next person to wake me from a sound sleep will have his arms broken and his tongue ripped out."

  "See." Amelia twisted free. "I obviously haven't been down here. Are we done now? I'd like to leave and remind you about my no touching policy."

  "Prove that you weren't down here." Vorec faced her, his brow creased so deeply his eyebrows almost merged into a single dark V. "Prove that you had nothing to do with that one's healing."

  Amelia covered her face, sighing. "Vorec, listen to me. Do you have any idea how hard it is to prove a negative? It's actually impossible. That's why in Indiana you don't have to prove a negative. It just isn't done! Now I know you want nothing more than to prove that I'm a traitor, but I'm not. I am exactly what I have told you. If I was a traitor, I would have just opened these cell doors and let those three out to deal with you. I am a Libyshan. I love Libysha, and I will restore the Tue-Rahs and deal with these three. Do you understand?"

  Vorec's eyes narrowed. "You know there is an old Libyshan story about a deer who reached a fork in the road. She didn't know which path to take, and so she tried to keep a foot on each one. At first, it was not so hard. She just kept telling everyone that she was going her own way and not to worry. With each step, she was pulled farther and farther apart. And then she went one step too far, and the wolves on both sides tore her to pieces, leaving nothing but a pathetic memory behind. Had she chosen a single path, she might have survived."

  "Ah, I've heard that story," WroOth said, holding up a finger. "But, first, you tell it dreadfully, and second, that's not how it ends. You see, there aren't any wolves. Just bruins and dragons. Stupid, stupid bruins. And when the bruins attacked the deer, the dragons picked up the deer, flew over the bruins, and ate the bruins, disgusting fur and all. Typically an unappetizing combination but vengeance makes even the toughest meat savory. And then the middleborn dragon and the deer decided to make adorable fire-breathing fawns, and they were all very happy together even though the deer made the middleborn dragon listen to a great many lectures on the importance of not eating all the other woodland creatures and something about not ruling the forest. The uncle dragons made the fawns rattles from the skulls and spines of their enemies and told them stories about how foolish it was for the bruins to even consider attacking the deer because even when the deer annoyed the dragons to the point where they wanted to rip out their own wings and claws, she was family."

  "Hmmm…" Amelia massaged her forehead. "I think I'll need a few hours to determine the deeper meaning of all your symbolism." She turned to Vorec. "Regardless, this conversation is over." She motioned to the staircase. "After you, elder commander. Given that in both stories you are a predator who wants to tear me apart, I will not turn my back on you."

  "And you think I'll turn my back on you?" Vorec drew himself up. "Treacherous. Little. Pinchat."

  Amelia sighed. "Why are you so obsessed with me, Vorec? And why do I keep fascinating psychotic men.? I'd really appreciate it if you would stop harassing me. I'm tired of dealing with your suspicion and your conspiracy theories. You can verify with the doctor, but I spent almost the entire day working with patients, and I'm exhausted. I don't care that it's not even dusk. I'm going to bed. Good night, everyone." Still rubbing her temples, she started back up the staircase.

  Her breaths did not ease until she reached the hall to her bedroom. The throbbing in her head continued, particularly at the base of her skull. She closed her eyes, drawing in a deep, cleansing breath. Thank You, Elonumato, she thought. AaQar was going to be fine. Now she just had to figure out where to go from here.

  An odd sensation spread over her. A prickling awareness of danger, radiating from her knees and chest. Amelia opened her eyes and looked around.

  There was no one about. The soft imprints on the rug were her own. The long sheer curtains moved lightly in the breeze. Frowning, Amelia circled slowly.

  There was no one. The hall continued in both directions, an uninterrupted line of long windows and thick dark rugs.

  Something sharp struck her neck.

  "Wha—" Her vision blurred at once, and she collapsed.

  19

  Torment

  Shon wandered all that day. Not until the moon's silver light at last faded did he realize a great deal of time had passed.

  What had happened?

  Shon looked around, realizing he had entered the forest and now lay in the middle of a clearing. Slowly he stood, numb and uncertain of what all he had done. He wiped the dirt from his hands on his trousers, his wrist brushing the hilt of his sword. For whatever reason he had wandered out here, he had most of his weapons. His sword, his tomarangs, his bow. Yet oddly, neither arrows nor quiver. Oak trees with lichen-splotched bark surrounded him. Their long branches stretched out like fingers reaching into his mind and soul.

  That's enough, he thought. He rubbed his forehead. When he had been a child and before they moved to Telhetum, he had feared the shadows the willow and oak cast near his bedroom window. At night, they resembled strange creatures, nightmares that lived and breathed in reality.

  Shaking his head, Shon circled the clearing, searching for some marker. Everything looked the same. Browns, silvers, greens, dark greys, and blacks. The bag he had packed for his and Amelia's escape was no longer on his back. How long had he been gone? Was it one night or two?

  He wandered on, searching for a sign. As his apprehension grew, he checked his weapons again. They were still there.

  Nothing about this place was familiar. There were many forests in Libysha, and he had traveled them all. Yet this one…there was an oddness, a deadness in the air. He had no conscious memory of it, only a deep dread.

  Pausing, he examined a towering birch with silver bark and black streaks. It had several knots and ridges, one forming a crude heart. Anger rose within Shon. Roaring, he stabbed his tomarang into the tree again and again.

  He pulled back, his hand wet and hot. Several deep cuts along his index finger and thumb bled, yet there was no pain. He swallowed, staring at the wounds. Blood rolled down in thick red droplets, the flesh gaping from the largest gouge.

  Slumping, he let his injured hand fall over his knee, watching as drop by drop the blood fell to the ground. It disappeared into the crushed leaves and dark soil, absorbed almost at once with no trace left behind. He bit into the inside of his lip to stop the swell of emotions rising within him. But there was no pain, not even when he tasted blood.

  It was wrong. All of this. Everything. How could Amelia do this to him? He closed his eyes, covering his head with his hands. The images of the Levthro flashed before his eyes once more. Chialao's mocking laughter echoed in his memories, chilling him.

  "She dies now." Chialao's soft voice har
dened into another laugh. The voice became louder, engulfing him in a canyon of sinister sound. "It was all for nothing. She wouldn't let you die for her. You can't even live with her."

  "Stop it!" Shon shouted. He bolted up and spun around. His boots dug into the soft soil.

  "She never loved you, Shon. She only used you." Chialao's voice came from behind him.

  Shon whirled about again, finding a large bush with faded red berries. Its wiry branches shuddered, the shadows reaching for him.

  Falling back, Shon grabbed his sword from its sheath. "Chialao, where are you?"

  "It was all for nothing. You know that, don't you? Once again, you waited too long. Couldn't save your mother. Cannot save your lover."

  "Stop it! Leave me alone!" Shon covered his ears, but the voice continued, unmuffled and undiluted. He bolted forward. Chialao's laughter followed him, winding through the branches and floating on the wind. All at once, his legs lost their strength. He collapsed, falling forward and striking a moss-covered boulder. "Go away!" he shouted. "If I can't change what happens, then I don't care."

  "You do not believe even that lie," Chialao said.

  The stone chamber appeared before him. It wavered for a moment before becoming clear. Two little boys, dark-haired and light-eyed, were chained to the wall this time. Amelia arrived again as she always did. And as always she fought the light-haired warrior. This time, he killed the children in front of her. Amelia leaped on him, dragging her blade across his throat as lava spurted from his hands.

  "Stop!" Shon shouted. "Stop now!" He gasped out an agonizing sob, hiding his face as another scene began.

  Chialao appeared in front of Shon. Though his eyes were closed, he could still see her, arms crossed, light glowing around her. Her hazel eyes glinted. "Foolish Awdawm," she crooned. "There is nothing you can do. This is her fate. The time has been set. Only the details remain to be seen. This is the Neyeb's fate." Chialao laughed. "It will hurt her deeply, and in that I take joy. I cannot take joy in how much you loved her though. She was never worthy of your love. The only part of Amelia you will ever truly possess is this knowledge." She gestured toward the now four children bound and gagged. Amelia was once again fighting, this time with a broken spear. "While the end is certain, there are still so many details yet to be set. I cannot wait to see what happens." She glanced back at Shon, a smile twitching at her lips. "You do know who the father of these children is, don't you?"