Princess Reviled

by Butler, J. M.

  The edges of Vorec's mouth twisted with disgust. "We are nothing alike, creature. You were an abomination from the beginning, but you were doe-eyed and small-bodied, fragile and enough like our own children that no one else could see it." He scoffed. "You still can't see it, but your kindest acts are actually proof of it, blood child."

  "What do you mean?" Amelia couldn't imagine how he was able to distort even that.

  "Those stories you told, the king shared them with me when he was in agony over his decision. The ones about you and the dogs, those creatures you cared for." Vorec shook his head as if unable to believe it. "You still can't see how cruel that was, can you? That Claudius. Did you ever consider how much he suffered? A life whose final days were riddled with the terrors and traumas of all he endured but mingled with false hope that he would ever be anything more than the damaged and dangerous creature that he was. It is selfish, evil, and cruel to allow a monster to live, knowing it must be hunted down later and that it will cost so much more than if the right thing was done from the beginning. And even if you weren't evil at your core, then the moment it was discovered that you were that skinchanger's bride and you made it apparent you would not use your position to protect the people you claimed to love at any cost…" Disdain filled Vorec's face. "If I had known about that letter, I would have been tempted to cut your throat in New Istador. What you represent, what you have done, what you would do sickens me more than almost anything I have seen. But in the end, this is better. You've been exposed for what you are, the king's reputation is restored, and the royal family as well as Libysha are safe. And today, the threat ends. Our connection with the Machat as well if all goes to plan."

  "The Machat?" Amelia exclaimed. She knew that they were being imprisoned, but she had not guessed that Libysha would go so far as to nullify all ties with them as well.

  "They cannot be trusted. All that they do is to further some greater plan, which they themselves admit. Did you know they were attempting to remove the creatures from the temple? No doubt to use them in some manner. Perhaps against us."

  Amelia grabbed the bars. "I asked them to take those animals some place safe until they could be freed into a world where they wouldn't hurt people."

  Vorec smirked. "So you were behind it? I shouldn't be surprised." The smile faded from his face. "The fact that the Machat so ferociously defend you is further proof of their untrustworthiness."

  "What did you do with the animals?" Amelia asked, tears reaching her eyes.

  "The former Paras are to be executed late this afternoon. They'll be placed in that pit beside the outer court, strapped down, and buried in twelve feet of mortar."

  Amelia's mouth fell open. "How will the Tue-Rahs be restored?" she stammered.

  "Elshcuth your Tue-Rahs!" Vorec glared, remaining seated and leaning forward. "If Elonumato is so eager to have them restored, then he can create another method for the Tue-Rah's restoration that does not threaten us. But the king did as prophecy required. And our duty is to Libysha. If you were a true ally of Libysha, you would have understood that."

  Amelia shook her head. Her voice trembled, either for fear that their plan might succeed against Naatos and his brothers or because she couldn't believe Vorec would challenge Elonumato so blatantly. "They will escape. And if that happens—"

  "They will not." Vorec drew on the pipe, gloating. "You saw them for the last time when you snuck down there to help the albino. They are not nearly so powerful as the legends claimed."

  Amelia swallowed hard, trying to collect her thoughts. "I hope that the people here aren't the ones to pay the price for your arrogance."

  Vorec chuckled. "You might have actually stood a chance at surviving in that wilderness. You are a savage creature indeed." With a slight shrug, he continued. "I suppose it must hurt to hear what is to happen to your kind. Or what has happened." He blew out a smoke ring, dark amusement playing on his face. "I suppose you'd like to know about the monsters we took from the temple. The ones from the menagerie."

  Amelia's heart tightened, a dropping sensation flowing through her. She fought to suppress the wavering of her lips and voice. "You killed them."

  "Monsters have only one fate. And the sooner they reach it the better."

  "There were other options!" Amelia shouted, clenching the bars. "They didn't ask to be monsters. They didn't ask for any of this! They could have lived somewhere else."

  Vorec heaved a sigh as if conveying some great wisdom. "It doesn't matter whether a creature asks to be a monster or not, the fact that it is one is sufficient reason for its destruction and essential for society. I have said it many times, but I will say it again. You should have been put down long ago, long before you were able to drag your cursed mates and their barbaric practices into this nation. If you'd been left unchecked, you'd have destroyed everything." He pointed at her with the stem of his pipe. "Thanks be to the king and my wisdom that you have not succeeded."

  Amelia averted her gaze, struggling to take it all in. The deaths of the animals sliced through her, splitting her core and splintering her stance. The Machat would find ways to continue with their plans and endeavors. From all Kepsalon had said, they were used to being considered enemies. But those animals…

  The silence intensified with discomfort. Vorec rubbed his forehead, then stood. "I will not miss you when you are gone, pinchat."

  Amelia glanced up at him, sharpness in her mind and heart, her face close to the bars.

  "Oh." Vorec stepped closer. "You think you'll come back and fix all of this, I'm sure. They're going to drop you at the border and let you go on your way. So why wouldn't you?"

  Amelia remained silent.

  "I am aware that the law requires that one who has been exiled must be transported safely to the border and released into the otherlands. But…once you are in that great stretch of wilderness, you'll find poisoned arrows in your chest or back." Vorec cocked his head. "I had other measures in place to ensure you did not survive the week. The coating on the cat o' nine, for instance. But I prefer to tie things up as neatly as possible. Today we kill all the monsters."

  His hand darted up. Amelia jumped back but not before he seized the Neyeb betrothal necklace. The leather thongs snapped.

  Amelia's hand flew to her neck. She rested on the cusp of letting the bead in her mind rupture. "You can be so grateful I am not everything you think or else you wouldn't be able to imagine what I would do to you."

  Vorec held the necklace up, smiling. "I am grateful to have ripped out your fangs and sent you to the great beyond before you ever came into your full potential." He swung the necklace around and then caught the pendant in his hand. "I'll just have them crush this down to be used in the mortar. Or perhaps it could be ground up and placed in cloths laid over your lovers' faces so they choke on it before the mortar drowns them. Whichever one is more painful, I think. Goodbye, pinchat."

  30

  Darkness

  The cart jolted forward. Amelia nearly struck her head on the bars before she caught herself. The drivers, two Ayamin clad all in black, did not speak at all as they moved out of the courtyard and down the path leading to the main gate into the city. Those nobles and their families who had survived the midnight massacre of Naatos's first attack along with several Ayamin stood on either side, silent, stone-eyed, seething. The shame pushed through the rage, and for once, the cold bead within her mind quailed beneath the sensation.

  The people's emotions—disdain, rage, sorrow, disappointment, revulsion—rolled over her like a great wall of filthy floodwater. She could have attempted to cover her elmis again, block out the horror and condemnation. But she kept her hands down, one grasping an iron bar to steady herself. Perhaps she deserved to feel this. So many had been lost. There had been nothing but sorrow, rage and often near hopeless fervor when she'd believed her Libyshan family was gone. Her only solace had been in training and plotting vengeance and fulfillment of her prophetic destiny. An irony so painful now she could barely c
ontemplate it.

  But she had at least had the hope that she would be united with her family at some point. That justice would prevail. And even if they did think of her as a monster, she would have proved that she was a good one. Even more importantly there was the possibility that her adopted family was still alive and would live on even once she completed her purpose. The possibility for good, happy, prosperous lives. That shred of hope had been more powerful than she might have guessed, and in comparison, she knew that the finality of the losses the Libyshans had suffered made their despair and anger all the worse. Her entire world had felt meaningless and collapsed around her when she'd thought Shon dead.

  Amelia blinked back the burning tears and clenched her jaw to stop the trembling. Shon. There had been nothing but desperation and emptiness in those moments when she realized his soul had passed. That void had nearly engulfed her. She had thought there could be no worse feeling in the world, but apparently there was.

  The same sensation intensified with the ache that spread from her heart to her veins as she remembered her last encounters with Shon. At least Naatos had thrown her to the spiders before he knew who she was. Shon had approved of her flogging and turned his back on her even after she'd returned his life to him. Yet even that was muddied in her own mind because she couldn't see her thoughts without hearing his accusations.

  The shaking within her spread. She tightened her grip, her knees trembling. She'd been so horrified at the thought of his death that she had not considered whether it was possible that his life would be worse than death for not being with her. But that was ridiculous. With life, he could do so much more. Find someone else. Create new memories. Discover a new purpose. Or maybe she had been the one who was ridiculous.

  Amelia closed her eyes to stop the tears, then opened them again, not wanting anyone to misunderstand the reason for her grief. Maybe it had been a mistake to bring Shon back. She hadn't considered whether it was what he wanted.

  Guilt erupted through the mire in her heart and mind. Amelia braced herself. There was no time for this, and she lacked the strength to sort out what she felt, what he felt, and what nightmare the combination of sensations had created. Mistake or not, it was done. Shon lived. Whether for right reasons or wrong, he now had a whole life to figure out again. But her relationship with him had ended, much as her relationship with Libysha and her people was about to end. Badly.

  Amelia kept her eyes straight ahead, focusing on nothing though she refused to bow her head. She gathered her tenacity, wits, and resolve.

  The cart rattled out from the palace, the horses' pace slow and deliberate. Here along the main road even more people had gathered. Their venom and pain seeped and bubbled like rotting abscesses, hot with pus and rage.

  "Traitor!" someone shouted.

  "Pinchat," cried another.

  "You were supposed to save us," called someone else.

  Some clump of rotting vegetation caught Amelia in the cheek, another in the leg. Both fell away, leaving mild stains compared to the dark blood that now stained her. Not that she would acknowledge these people or their acts any more than she had to. In that regard she was certain of herself. She ground her hand against the bar as something mushy struck her shoulder. This was not the place for her to expend her rage.

  Besides, this was not her end. She did however need a plan. A way to escape and ensure Naatos and his brothers survived. After that—well…Amelia rolled her eyes at herself. There was enough to figure out between this point and the next that she should focus on that and worry about the aftermath later.

  First, there was the matter of the locks. They were basic and crude in most respects, easy enough to pick once there was a little privacy. And at the pace the horses currently traveled, she could easily slip out. But there were other matters to consider. Amelia puzzled through every element of the escape and each possibility, the process almost enough to drown out the common folk of Libysha. Almost.

  A purple potato caught her in the head and nearly sent her rage through her skull again. Four times more the loss, pain, and desolation of these people almost consumed her. The dominant pools of sorrow and guilt against anger and vengeance battled within her, and, truly, she wished neither to win.

  Once they left the city, the turmoil lessened, passing carts of soil and wagons of diggers. A chilling fear, more metallic and uncomfortable than the cold bead in her mind, spread through her as she contemplated the fate before Naatos and his brothers.

  Vawtrians might be incredible survivors, receiving great bursts of healing and even strength before death. But if they were strapped in the bottom of a pit with great cartfuls of mortar poured over them, could they really survive, much less escape? Especially if they were unconscious and limited from the huanna. They needed to know what was happening. But the last time she had entered the deep mindreading she'd struggled to regain her strength. Naatos had warned her that it would be even worse now. More dangerous with her own health compromised. The medicine kept her from feeling the full effects, but her medical training warned her that simply because she did not feel it did not mean it wasn't there. Perhaps she could wait to enter the deep mindreading and warn Naatos after she made her escape—

  They passed the site of the outer court, the ruined tower, and the great pit. One of the workers—a broad-shouldered fellow with a livid red welt from the base of his ear, down his neck, and across his chest—strode toward the cart, his shovel resting across his shoulders. "What do you think of your mates' grave?" he called out mockingly. "Pity the king doesn't let you join 'em." More jeers followed as the others took note.

  Amelia crossed to the opposite side of the cage to be closer to him. "How long till you're done and the execution starts?" she demanded.

  He sneered, his whole face twisting with disgust. "Pinchat!" He spat on the coarse soil.

  Amelia thrust her hand through the bars, turning up her palms so her elmis faced him directly. "Tell me!" she roared.

  He fell still, his mouth agape. The thoughts ripped from his mind in response, flavored with an acidic bite of terror and ripe with knowledge. Three hours. Ceremony. All in attendance. Multiple wagons to unload the mortar at once and ensure rapid coverage.

  "Stop talking." One of the drivers rapped the roof of the cart, not even glancing at her.

  Amelia glared at the workers as she withdrew her hand. Three hours. There was little chance of reaching the destination before then. Even if she broke out and escaped, she'd have to be on her guard for a time unless she found some way to restrain the Ayamin. Even then there was a great risk of being captured and killed herself given Vorec's final orders. And while there was a risk to entering the deep mindreading now, it had to be taken.

  Amelia sat on the floor, positioning herself as safely as possible with her back resting against the wall. She opened one of the bags King Theol provided and took a large dose of the medicine to manage her wounds and keep the pain at bay. As the sugary flavor remained stuck on her tongue, Amelia reached for her necklace, but her bloodstained fingers brushed only bare skin. No! Clenching her eyes shut, Amelia growled with frustration and slammed her head back against the bars. Vorec. How had she forgotten that already?

  Covering her mouth, Amelia rolled through all she knew about mindreading and her current situation. Naatos had said the necklaces helped build and intensify the connection. Other Neyeb could and did reach into others' minds from great distances. This was possible. And she had reached Naatos more than once. Perhaps enough of a bond had developed that she could find him without the necklace.

  Amelia pressed her hand over her heart, unease fluttering through her. She had not betrayed Libysha yet, but this came dangerously close as she doubted Naatos would be kind when he and his brothers were freed unless he was willing to listen this time. But what was almost more troubling was that she didn't care nearly as much as she thought she should.

  No. There was no time to even think about that further. Amelia closed her eyes again and re
ached out into the darkness of her own mind. The unsettling sensation of consciousness and possibility ran beneath her like a rushing river whose presence she both felt and heard. For a moment, it was too much, chaotic, tumbling, pouring, whooshing, and roaring. But then she realized there was an emptiness. A draft struck her. A different sort of energy passed with it. It was as if someone had removed the stones of a path and yet they had been so long there that their imprint remained.

  She moved toward the opening. The familiar sensation of Naatos's consciousness greeted her, heavy, heady, and close. Then, as if she'd struck some internal teleportation, she flashed forward into a blacker chamber where once again the green-lined tapestries descended. Naatos lay in the center.

  Amelia staggered briefly, then shook her head. She'd done it. She'd done it without the necklace! Rushing forward, she dropped by Naatos's side and shook his shoulder. "Naatos, wake up. I need to talk to you."

  Naatos bolted up, seized her by the arm, flung her to the other side, and struck her in the chest—all as calmly as if he were crushing an insect. He grabbed her by the throat but stopped, his brow creasing, his expression confused as he recognized her. "I told you not to come back."

  Amelia gasped in a painful breath, flat on her back and grateful she'd never tried to wake him in the conscious world. "I—" She wheezed, fighting to fill her lungs as she rubbed her chest. "They're—" She gulped in another breath. Everything hurt.

  "Why are you covered in blood?" Naatos asked. He lifted her arm and examined the stained fabric. "Is it yours? This doesn't appear to be from the flogging." He helped her sit up.

  "They're going to put you, AaQar, and WroOth into a pit, strap you down, and drown you with mortar. I just passed the pit where they're going to bury you." Amelia continued to rub her chest, thankful that at least within the mind such injuries healed quickly.