Princess Reviled

by Butler, J. M.

  Drawing her hands over her face, Amelia breathed out, then in. "All right," she said softly. She would have to be quick if she was going to have enough time to recover, free herself, and escape. But perhaps it would go as well as searching for Naatos. She closed her eyes.

  The darkness was almost comforting this time. Reaching out into it resulted in much the same physical sensation as before, except that now the expanse felt far larger. Perhaps because no physical bond had been made with AaQar. At least not quite so strong as her bond with Naatos. Amelia stretched farther out, scanning and searching for some indication of AaQar.

  No light appeared, but as she continued, Amelia realized she actually could see a little. Not her own hands or feet, to be certain. But the darkness moved beneath her. It was as if she stood over a great river, and the sound was rather similar to that as well. Occasionally, long threads flashed a sharp grey light, then vanished. Amelia turned slowly, suspended in the darkness.

  She spoke softly, processing what little she knew about this situation. "Naatos's mind had a feeling. A flavor. A scent. It makes sense I suppose that everybody would have a particular feeling or mark." Amelia scanned the river of threads below. The harder she looked, the more she saw. Her own voice sounded small in this place. She restrained her fear and considered what this river of threads meant. "Maybe each thread is a mind." She set her hands on her hips and chewed on the inside of her cheek as she peered down. How would she even go about connecting?

  Stooping, she stretched out her arm. She caught one of the dark grey threads. It expanded at once, growing before her. It felt cold but happy, smelling of resin and pine, a flavor like almond tea cakes filling her mouth. A name appeared in her thoughts as the wind increased. Galou.

  "No." Amelia released it and moved back.

  She reached for the next. This time came a sensation of giddy warmth and a smell of jasmine. She let go of it immediately and stepped away, knowing that wasn't AaQar.

  All the threads appeared the same. But if she touched or focused on one, it grew larger, releasing a distinct sensation and creating a draft as if a door opened. But none were AaQar. None were even similar. At least not yet. Amelia examined and released the third thread. It disappeared into the stream, a single fiber among billions. Maybe there was an easier way. She cupped her hands over her mouth. "AaQar!" she called out. "Can you hear me?"

  The only voice to fill the silence was the rushing of the threads below, a far less helpful answer than desired. Amelia sighed, pressing her hand to her head. How much time did she have? How much time had she spent here? It was easier to think in this place, clearer and somehow lighter, yet there was no easy method to measure the passage of time. Going through all the threads strand by strand was certain to take too long. So what else could she do?

  "All right." Amelia paced, tugging lightly at a thread, then releasing it as soon as she confirmed it wasn't AaQar. "Mindreading is easiest when in physical contact with the person. It's also possible when in sight of the person. But I can reach Naatos from miles away. I also managed to get all three of them in my mind somehow even though I couldn't see them and didn't mean to. So distance isn't quite as important even for someone like me. Deep mindreading occurs when looking deeply into the pupils and focusing hard." Amelia paused, then frowned. "It's all visual isn't? At least a lot of it when you add in imagining." She smiled, hopeful but afraid it might not be that easy. "AaQar, I'm just going to imagine you, and if you can hear me or guide me to you, say something when you can."

  The faint rushing, rustling, and whispering continued. Amelia prepared herself, using the sound to focus all the more. But when she tried to create the most vivid imagining of AaQar she could, nothing appeared within her mind. Not even when she closed her eyes inwardly. For brief intervals, little more than half a breath, partial images fluttered in her imagination. The darkness wavered and the wind picked up, the air beneath her moving as if something wanted to move her. But it soon ceased, losing the power. After four false starts, it ended entirely.

  Amelia clenched her fists. Why was it so hard to visualize down here? That had to be the key. But how did that make sense? This was her own mind, why couldn't she—

  Amelia stopped, another realization striking her. "Why do I always make things harder than they have to be?" For whatever reason her own imagination was not working in this place, but there was another source for seeing AaQar and hopefully making the connection while bolstering her own mental abilities.

  Closing her eyes inwardly once more, Amelia folded her arms over her chest and returned to her own deep mind. When she opened her eyes again, the red bound tapestries had fallen into place. They slid and danced along in continuous lines.

  "All right." Amelia rubbed her forearm. "How do I make this a little faster?" There had to be millions of memories here, and their order was not readily ascertainable. Two tapestries on her left showcased her running an obstacle course she'd made from cement blocks and tractor tires. Another held her encounter with Naatos on Valne's Peak, starting at the moment she shot him. Five others depicted memories of different animals she'd tended and one of her playing fetch with Claudius in the fenced yard behind the clinic. Amelia walked between two of the rows, scanning them swiftly. Three showed her with WroOth, arguing or talking. One was whited out internally though the binding was as vivid as any of the others. Two included her cleaning her home in Indiana, and one showed her as a young teen taking care of the four tarantulas Uncle Joe had gotten her. Many more depicted her training and studying in various ways.

  "How am I supposed to find AaQar in time?" Amelia asked, staring at the seemingly endless rows.

  The tapestries stiffened abruptly, their corners and edges straight and taut. Even the images within froze. The tapestries flashed, their order shifting. The tapestry immediately to her left showed the first time she met AaQar in the hall just outside her palace bedroom.

  A soft ache beat within Amelia's heart at the memory. He'd regarded her so somberly, his visage almost frightening and yet sorrowful, an otherworldly distance about him. So much had happened and changed between the events of that night and—Amelia shook her head. No, no, there was no time for that.

  She gave her forearm another brisk rub and focused intently on AaQar. Amelia reached out to him. Seeing him in the tapestry made it easier for her to pull the image deeper into her own thoughts.

  Once again the air stirred around her, then rushed. Her own red-lined tapestries vanished, replaced by silver-blue ones spiraled around a single maple bed. AaQar lay beneath the generous blankets, sleeping peacefully.

  Amelia gasped with relief and hurried toward him. "AaQar," she cried. She halted at the foot of the bed, recalling what had happened with Naatos. "AaQar," she called again, louder. He breathed steadily. The look on his face suggested either a pleasant dream or nourishing rest or perhaps both. "AaQar." She seized the curved maple bedposts and shook hard. "Wake up."

  AaQar grunted and moved his elbow over his face. "Leave," he mumbled.

  "AaQar, you have to listen. You're in danger." Amelia moved cautiously to the head of the bed. "They're going to drown you in mortar."

  Soft snores answered her.

  "AaQar!" Amelia shook him, then jumped out of arm's reach.

  "What!" AaQar opened his eyes, his voice rough with sleep. His sharp gaze softened when he saw her. "Oh. It's you." A great yawn broke from his mouth as he relaxed against the thick down pillow. "I'm sleeping, Amelia. I'll speak with you when I wake."

  "No, no, there isn't time." Amelia dropped to her knees beside him and shook him by the arm. "You've got to protect yourself. They're going to drown you while you're drugged."

  AaQar blinked slowly. He smiled, pressing his hand to her cheek. "My little sister." He sighed.

  Amelia leaned closer, gripping his forearm. "Yes, it's me. Did you hear what I said?"

  AaQar studied her as if he struggled to focus. "What was it you wanted?"

  "You have to protect yourself.
The Libyshans are going to take you very soon to a pit beside the tower WroOth wrecked. They're going to put you in that pit, strap you down, and cover you in mortar."

  AaQar's eyes shut, but he nodded. "Well done."

  "Naatos said you can increase the oxygen in your blood and close your airways. Can you do that?"

  "Well if Naatos says it should be done, it shall be…" AaQar's voice trailed off. His eyes fluttered open again, his lids low. "What are you doing here, Amelia?"

  Amelia blinked back tears. "AaQar—"

  AaQar shook his head and placed his hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, little sister. I must rest. I can scarcely think. We'll talk in the morning." He had barely closed his eyes when the deep breathing resumed. His hand slipped from her face.

  Amelia choked on fresh tears as she shook him again. "AaQar, you've got to wake up and you've got to remember what I tell you. Your life depends on it!" When he didn't even stir, she struck his cheeks and grabbed his shoulders. "AaQar!"

  A sharp pain struck her face and head. AaQar fell from her grasp as Amelia rocked backward. A loud grating and cracking, followed by shouts, poured into her mind. Then everything went black.

  She fought to open her eyes, the cracks of daylight burning as her head spun.

  "Wheel's completely busted and this horse's leg is cut pretty good," one of the guards said, his voice echoing as if from a distant hall. "One of us should take the other horse and get a replacement. Unless we just walk."

  "The otherlands are miles away," said the other voice, husky and annoyed, a little closer than the first. "If we don't get a replacement, we'll have to carry her."

  "On foot? Or riding? Probably shouldn't split up if she's out of the cage."

  "On foot then."

  "That's gonna slow us down."

  "A bit."

  "Unless…" The first speaker paused. "Unless we just kill her here."

  32

  Fight

  The guard's words rolled over Amelia's consciousness. She forced her eyes open, blinking against the bright sunlight. Her face was pressed against the iron bars, the world leaning badly to the left. The two Ayamin stood a short distance away. Everything spun, even as she fought to ground herself and collect her wits.

  The taller one with the well-combed brown hair and husky voice rubbed his hand over his jaw, staring down at the separated wheel. "That's not the law, Friell."

  "What difference does it really make?" asked Friell, lifting his shoulders. He had a kinder looking face despite his words, round cheeks with a trimmed red-blond beard. "It isn't as if this land is more sacred than over the borders, and if she's to die, then…"

  Adrenaline began to clear Amelia's thoughts. Elonumato help me, she prayed. The hair pins were on the railing near her head. She slid her hand over them and picked them up, her heart racing.

  The first shook his head again. "Bad enough that it has to be done," he muttered.

  "Staiyl, it must be done, and it might as well be done now and save us the time."

  Staiyl kept his hand over his mouth and his gaze downward. "Check the horses. We might be able to fix this."

  The uncertainty within Staiyl struck Amelia like a fragrance, but it was not quite the good news she hoped for. It was the breaking of the law that troubled him most. At best he might put her on the horse and walk her the rest of the way to her death. But his feelings lacked conviction, and Friell wanted this matter concluded more than Staiyl wanted it legal. All it would likely take to convince Staiyl to go along with Friell was if Friell agreed to take full responsibility.

  Amelia curled herself forward. Her fingers felt as thick as frozen sausages, and the opening to the lock wavered and wobbled. Closing her eyes, she pressed her hand over it. This was a simple lock. She'd picked locks like these hundreds of times. And once it was picked, she'd get her gun out.

  "Let's see if we can fix it. Maybe we can…bind it." Staiyl hesitated.

  "It isn't going to work. Look at it. It's splintered."

  Amelia let her glance dart to the lock to confirm that she had slipped the pins inside. She had practiced on these sorts of locks so many hours that she could do it mostly through touch. The clumsiness of her own hands made her slower, but she could do this.

  "Walk back up that hill and see if there's anyone passing by." Staiyl gestured back the way they had come. "I'll guard the prisoner."

  "There won't be anyone," Friell said.

  "We have to exhaust all other options before we can justify this," Staiyl said. "This is dangerous as it is, and if we don't want to lose further opportunities, we must follow this task to the letter."

  Friell inclined his head as if contemplating this. "As you say, but no one has to know." He fell silent as Staiyl cast a sharp glare in his direction. "What's another hour wasted?" Friell shrugged.

  Amelia fiddled with the lock, watching as Staiyl's gaze followed Friell. The last of the tumblers clicked. She breathed with relief. "Noble Ayamin," she said, hiding the pins in her palm. "I—"

  "No, do not speak to me." Staiyl kept his face turned from her. "I have no words for traitors."

  Amelia stretched out her hand, exposing her elmis. But when she tried to pull at his thoughts a horrid aching cut through her mind. She leaned forward, tucking her head down. Oh. It was as if someone had clubbed her. She clenched her eyes shut until the wave had passed.

  Apparently mindreading was not an option at the moment. She steadied herself against the metal cage floor. If mindreading wasn't possible, neither was thought shifting or memory manipulation. She wouldn't be able to do to Staiyl what she did to Dian.

  Time eked away. Amelia focused on picking the remaining lock and regaining her strength, the tension and adrenaline more sickening than helpful. Thank Elonumato the lock had not been more complicated.

  At last Friell returned. "No one," he said. He nodded toward Staiyl's bow. "We can either shoot her or cut her throat. I don't mind either way."

  Staiyl drew his hand over his mouth, his eyes dark with thought. "There was no one on the road?"

  "No one."

  "Then it must be so." Staiyl removed an arrow from his quiver.

  "Wait." Amelia held up her hands, the shackles still arranged as if fastened to her wrists.

  "You'll get no mercy from us," Friell said, his voice hard. "A quick death is better than you deserve, traitor."

  "I am not asking for mercy." Amelia kept her hands lifted, her gaze flicking between both. "I'm asking for—" Her focus faltered. The past hour had not restored her mindreading abilities, but another plan presented itself. "I'm asking for you to let me make my final peace with Elonumato."

  "It's fair." Staiyl folded his arms, his hand tight over the short bow. "But make it quick."

  "Of course." Amelia pressed her hands together. "Thank you." She turned.

  "Wait—" Friell called out. "What are you doing?"

  "You don't need to see me cry," Amelia said, glancing back. She lowered her eyelids and shook her head. "I know you can't leave me for even a short time, but I would rather no one see me weep."

  "Very well." Friell shifted his weight.

  They probably had no desire to see her weep either. Both were fairly young, neither old enough to have fought in Libysha's battles before King Theol accepted the throne. Most likely this task was their first time serving as formal executioners. Vorec had at least been clever enough to ensure both knew that his orders were for her death, even if the king only required her banishment. Most likely he'd spun them some story or perhaps they had simply witnessed the events at the trial or lost beloved family in the attack. It was a risk to turn her back when one had a bow. He might shoot her, but she couldn't get her gun out without being seen. Even with her back to them…

  Amelia hesitated as another idea formed in the morass of her mind. "Would you pray as well? Pray that Libysha will not be harmed. That…nothing that has happened today will cost the innocent any further." She lowered her head. "Would you bow your heads with me and
ask Elonumato for His favor?"

  Friell and Staiyl exchanged glances, then Staiyl nodded. His posture relaxed. "It could not hurt."

  Amelia knelt and bowed her head. "Great Elonumato," she said. Glancing back, she confirmed both men had also lowered their heads and closed their eyes. "Forgive me this day for all that I have done." With care she slid the shackles to the floor. "I know that what must be done is what must be done, and I am deeply sorry for all the tragedy that has come, both because of me and others." She reached into her gown, shifting and fidgeting to reach the gun and ammunition. "For all of the people of Libysha, for all of their suffering and their sorrow, please comfort them and protect them from future attacks and the cruel ambitions of the violent and corrupt." Keeping the movement to match her words so that any minor sounds were masked, she reloaded the gun. "Protect them and bless them. And for these two men, I ask forgiveness and mercy." She stood, then turned, pointing the gun in their direction. "Oh, Elonumato, please don't make me have to kill them." She cocked the gun.

  The two Ayamin stared at Amelia in shock, eyes wide, mouths agape. Staiyl still gripped his bow.

  "I can easily put one of these bullets between both your eyes, and neither of you would get out more than a shout. Not that a shout would matter given how far we are from civilization," Amelia said. The desperate energy of an impossible task flowed through her as she adjusted her grip on the gun. "Now I know both of you are only doing as you were ordered, and I don't like killing unless I have to. So don't make me have to, all right?" Her legs shook slightly. "Now get this cage unlocked."

  Both remained where they were.

  Amelia tilted her head forward, her tone taking a darker note. "Gentlemen, unlock this door or else"—she fired off two rounds, shooting through Friell's decorative shoulder pad and the notch just beneath the wolf engraving on the head of Staiyl's bow—"the next two bullets will kill you."