No, she decided. After all her talks with Ceredon, the one thing she knew for certain was that the elf would rather die than play a part in such a horrific act of cruelty.
Ceredon gestured to the stairs, signaling for Aully and her people to follow him out. They formed a winding snake of shuffling footfalls as they climbed the constricted channel. The walls closed in on Aully, making her feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. She gazed at the heavy oak door up ahead, and in her mind she saw a row of archers awaiting them outside, ready to put arrows in their hearts the moment they emerged.
Only there weren’t archers awaiting them—or anyone living at all. Instead, the dimness of the dungeon was exchanged with the relative brightness of the moon-dappled early morning. Revealed in its light was a field of death.
First was the body of the Quellan elf guard sprawled out on the ground outside the dungeon entrance, his throat slit. But that sight paled in comparison to what came next, for the many who died the day their forest city had been taken were strung up on poles, as were those who had been stolen away each morning by the jailer. Each one faced away from Palace Thyne’s gilded emerald walls, a macabre warning to any who might think to turn against the new rule of Neyvar Ruven and his Ekreissar enforcers. Aully froze, staring in horror at the bodies of Demarti, Kara, Lucius, Meretta, and Fressen. Little Zoe was there too, dangling from a post by her wrists, the grass below her dark with a stain that glowed purple beneath the light of the moon. And farthest out, at the head of the trail of terror, was her father. Cleotis Meln, the former Lord of Stonewood. His head was shoved atop a pike, mouth hanging open, and beside it, nailed to a tall wooden plank, was the rest of his body.
Aully doubled over, gagging. She would have collapsed if not for Ceredon, who wrapped his arms around her, buried her face in the crook of his elbow, and ushered her forward. All sound was muffled with her ears blocked, and she was grateful that she did not have the chance to witness her mother’s reaction to seeing her husband presented in such a ghastly and degrading way.
She walked for what felt like hours, and Ceredon only released her when they were far beyond the city. Dawn was approaching, the sky swirling with deep purples and crimsons, when they reached the very edge of the forest of Dezerea. On one side was the massive expanse of Lake Cor, the lowland mountains on the other. Finally their liberator stopped and swiveled around. Aully turned too and saw that her people had gathered together.
“I apologize,” Ceredon said, addressing the congregation with a still-hushed voice. He’d seemed reluctant to talk during their escape, and no one had pressed him during their march. “For everything. I know it’s not much, not anything, really, but.…”
His voice trailed off. He looked as lost as everyone else there at the forest’s edge.
“Why?” Lady Audrianna asked, her anger boiling over into her voice. “Why has this happened? Why did you kill my husband and imprison us?”
“I did no such thing,” replied Ceredon, lowering his head and placing a hand on his chest. “I was not informed of my father’s plans, I swear. What happened was as much a shock to me as it was to you.”
“Do you think we would accept the apology of a Sinistel?” came Noni’s weak voice. “You cannot know the pain.…”
Ceredon winced but kept his head held high.
“I apologize for myself,” he said. “For my inaction. For my cowardice in waiting as long as I did to free you. I will not speak for my father, nor for my people. But I have lost much in all of this as well, do you not understand?”
Aully nodded. She could see it and almost understand it. He’d lost faith in his family, his beliefs, in the very morality of his people. She took a tentative step forward, gazing up at the beautiful prince, and when he looked back at her, she saw eyes full of conflict.
“Why?” she asked. “They’ll order your death for this.”
“Not mine,” Ceredon said. His cheeks flushed, and he suddenly looked embarrassed.
A call sounded from behind them. At first Aully felt panic, certain they’d been discovered, but when she turned she saw their rescuer, saw the elf who would be blamed for everything.
Kindren.
The elder Thynes approached them tentatively, but Kindren held his head high, refusing to hide his face. Lady Phyrra gave an awkward curtsey and Lord Orden bowed low, staying down longer than usual, as if he were fighting the need to look into the eyes of the people whose lives he had assisted in ruining.
“Your freedom has been granted,” Ceredon said. “Not by me, but by them.”
Lord Orden opened his mouth to say something but closed it quickly.
Kindren pushed past his parents and approached Ceredon. The Quellan prince offered his arm, and Kindren took it, an acknowledgment of mutual respect passing between them. Their hands released, and Kindren turned around, facing Aully. Their eyes met, and then all his attempts at remaining solemn and proud broke down, and he was once again the young elf Aully had fallen in love with. He dashed toward her, all pretenses gone, letting out a heart-wrenching sob as he wrapped his arms around her. Aully dug her fingers into the clothing on his back, never wanting to let him go. She melted into him, sobbing, letting his gentle kiss on her cheek wash away, if only for the briefest of moments, her painful memories. She heard gasps from those gathered behind her, and then Kindren released her, stepping back to face them.
“I will be held responsible for your release,” he said, struggling to sound strong, like the lord he would one day have been had the world’s sanity not collapsed around him. “Ceredon used my blade to slice the guard’s throat, and clues pointing toward my culpability have been placed around the palace. I will bear the sole blame; I’m sure of it.”
Lady Thyne stifled a sob, and then her husband came forward, standing beside his son.
“Please, all of you,” he said, sounding timid and afraid. “I need you to understand we had no choice. The Neyvar is strong, and the might of his nation would have obliterated us. We had no choice but to obey, lest we lose our own lives.”
On hearing his words, Aully’s mother advanced on the Lord of Dezerea. No one dared stop her, not even when she slapped Orden across the face, and then grabbed the lapel of his overcoat and pulled him close to her.
“No choice?” she said. “You allowed my husband to be murdered; you allowed men, women, and children to be strung up like animals, and you now ask for our understanding?” Audrianna spat in his face, a shimmering glob that struck him above the eye and dripped down over his nose. “In your position, we would have given our lives to protect you, even if the Neyvar had shown up with an entire legion. But I see now that honor ends at Stonewood’s borders and exists nowhere else in this forsaken world of humankind. Even our fellow Dezren have cast it aside.”
Behind them, Lady Thyne began to cry.
“There is no forgiveness for you,” said Aully’s mother, first to Orden, then Phyrra. “Not now, not ever.”
With that, she released the Lord of Dezerea and backed away. Orden, for his part, shuffled nervously from foot to foot, his head hanging in shame. Part of Aully felt sorry for him; but another part, the one that had watched her father beheaded and seen the mutilated bodies of her people on display, wished him a horrible, drawn-out death.
“And what of you two?” said her mother, facing Kindren and Ceredon.
“I will return to Dezerea and take my place by my father’s side,” said Ceredon, a darkness falling over his complexion. “Know that I do not condone his actions, nor do I understand them. All I know is that some sort of pact has been made with the god of the east, a pact that goes against our goddess’s decree. So I will stay, and learn what I can. I must find out all that I can to save my people from themselves, before they fall out of favor with Celestia forever. Know that in the court of Quellassar you have at least one ally.”
Lady Audrianna seemed touched, and she dipped her head in respect.
“And you?” she asked, turning to Kindren.
In response, Kindren dropped to one knee, took her hand, and kissed the back of it. A look of surprise came over the face of the Lady of Stonewood.
“The sins of my family have forever indebted me to you, Lady Audrianna,” he said, gazing up into her eyes. “Please, let me join you in exile from this place. I do not fear the death that will come for me if I stay, only that I would die without ever seeing my beloved Aullienna again.”
His gaze flicked over to Aully, and she stood breathless, unable to move. Her mother’s expression remained stoic as she stared at the young elf kneeling before her, giving no answer. She looked to Aully, then back at Kindren.
“Time is short,” Ceredon dared say. “They will discover your escape within the hour, if they have not already. It will not take them long to find our trail.”
“Of course you can join us,” Lady Audrianna whispered. Her hardness suddenly broke, and she was once more the frail woman who had huddled silently in the dungeon cell. “Though we may not have a home to return to…not if the betrayal the Neyvar spoke of is true.”
“Where we stay does not matter,” Kindren replied. “All that matters is that we stay alive and we stay together.”
He reached out for Aully then, and she went to him, accepting his arm around her waist as the rest of her people turned away from the shimmering lake. The sky brightened overhead, and the sun was close to poking over the eastern horizon. Lord and Lady Thyne left silently, and Aully bid them a soundless good riddance. Ceredon stood before the group for a moment longer, brushed his dark hair off his shoulders, and offered them a salute, his elbow locked and his fist clenched. Aully shrugged out of Kindren’s grasp and ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist and pressing her head against his chest.
“Thank you,” she said, gazing up into his soulful brown eyes. There were tears in them. Aully had never seen the prince of the Quellan cry. Oddly, the sensitivity suited him.
“What I do, I do for us all,” he said, and then he kissed two fingers of his right hand and pressed them against her temple. “But I also do it for you. Always.”
Those were his last words. He turned and ran into the surrounding trees with nary a sound. Aully watched him disappear, her heart going out to him. She worried for his safety. Should his father find out what he’d done.…
Don’t think like that, she thought. She rejoined Kindren and the rest of her people. They began the journey southeast, deciding to stay in the shelter of the low mountains until it was time to return home. They could not return to Stonewood, not if Detrick had truly taken over. Aully leaned into Kindren and imagined life going forward, wherever that might happen. Going forward. It was all they could expect from then on out, for it was a brave new world.
Beneath the burgeoning light of morning, the haggard group of elves disappeared over a mountain ridge, heading bravely for points unknown, with only their mutual love and the clothes on their backs to protect them. Aully prayed it would be enough. She knew it would have been for Brienna.
CHAPTER
33
She had been sitting at the feet of her god, listening to his sermon alongside her husband, Ibis, and their children, when the rider came barging into the temple. Soleh leapt up at the sight of the soldier—his skin was pale, his hair disheveled, and his armor hastily donned. She exchanged a look with Ulric, who shrugged his shoulders in reply. Adeline smiled at the newcomer, giggling madly to herself, as she had done for the majority of Karak’s homily. Soleh looked over at her husband, who had just grabbed her hand, and then at her god, whom she had crafted Ibis after, resplendent in his black platemail, his golden eyes peering at the man at the door.
“Why do you interrupt us?” Karak demanded, his voice excessively loud.
The soldier dropped to his knees in an instant, the clank of his platemail echoing through the hall of worship.
“Many apologies, my Lord,” he stammered. “It is not my purpose to intrude. I was sent by the Highest to inform our lady the Minister that her presence is required at the castle.”
Karak looked at Soleh, his eyes boring into her soul, and she shivered as she faced the soldier.
“Why would Highest Crestwell require me now? It is barely dawn.”
“He did not tell me, Minister. He said only that I must come fetch you and that it was a matter most dire.” The soldier gulped and turned to the god. “And…h-he said you would want to be there as well, my Lord.”
“Is that so?” Karak asked. The tone in his voice had not changed at all, but the sheer volume with which he spoke made it all the more imposing. The soldier bent his head even closer to the ground, his affirmation whispered so quietly that Soleh could only guess at his words.
“Very well,” said the god. “Take your leave of us.”
“Sh-shall I tell the Highest you will be arriving shortly?”
Karak smiled. “There will be no need of that.”
The soldier stood, bowed, and then clanked out the door as noisily as he’d arrived. Soleh glanced at her god, her beloved Karak, and held her hands together beneath her chin, awaiting his command.
“Ibis, take your children home to the Tower Keep. Stay there until I tell you your presence is required.”
Ibis bowed, so handsome with his twinkling eyes and dimpled chin, a near perfect replication of the god who was now addressing him. Then she glanced at Ulric, who had inherited many of those same traits. Soleh felt a shimmer of pride just looking at them, so long as she ignored Adeline, who continued her mad cackle, albeit under her breath now.
“I will, my Lord,” said Ibis. He grabbed Adeline by the wrist and dragged her out of the temple, where Soleh’s bodyguards awaited with a carriage. Ulric followed close behind.
“And what of me?” asked Soleh. “We arrived in a single wagon. Should I depart with them?”
“No, sweet Soleh,” Karak said, his voice lowered. “You require neither horse nor carriage—not when your creator is by your side.”
The deity held his hand out to her, which she took. He scooped her up, as though she were a small child, and carried her toward the inner sanctum of the temple, where darkness loomed. Soleh couldn’t stop staring at him as she rode along, drinking in his scent, fussing over every smooth line and crease in his perfectly chiseled face. So lost was she in her obsession that she never once thought of the words the soldier had spoken, nor of the aura of portent they carried.
Karak stepped behind his altar, around a vast collection of potted ferns that grew as tall as he, and entered the shadows. Soleh’s head grew dizzy, her vision swelling and then fading until all she saw was blackness. She felt herself reduced to the smallest of particles, soaring along the cosmos at a speed her human mind could not comprehend. She knew she should be alarmed, but the presence of her god surrounded her, infused her, soothed her, and Soleh Mori knew no fear.
When the light returned to her eyes, she could see a dimly lit sky in the distance. They were sheathed in darkness, beneath the stables on the far side of the Castle of the Lion. Soleh gasped in wonder. She knew Karak could ride shadows to wherever he wished, but she had never experienced it for herself. That she had been given the opportunity made her feel very blessed indeed.
Karak placed her two feet on the ground and gestured for her to lead the way. She did, feeling light as air, almost floating along the cobbled walk as she pulled open the door to Tower Justice. Karak did not enter, instead signaling for her to go on without him.
“Remember, sweet Soleh,” he said. “To maintain order, sacrifice is sometimes necessary.”
With that he turned away from her. She sighed, stepped into the tower, and closed the door behind her with a heavy thud.
Once inside, any lightness she’d felt instantly disappeared.
Standing in the rounded antechamber was Highest Crestwell. With him were Thessaly, Captain Gregorian, King Vaelor, two Sisters of the Cloth, and half of the Council of Twelve. They had been deep in discussion when she entered, a conversation that ceased so quick
ly, it was as if a thousand stones had been dropped on them all at once. Every eye turned her way, the group’s panic and anger shining through at her. Captain Gregorian seemed particularly fearsome; his face was so taut it seemed as though his flesh would split along the fissures in it. He wore common breeches and a tunic rather than armor, but his swordbelt was fastened around his waist. It was then she noticed his clothes were soaked with blood.
“What happened?” she asked, panic beginning to gallop up her spine. “Why have I been summoned?”
The Highest grimaced, giving King Vaelor a disapproving look. He then said, “You are the Minister of Justice, Soleh, and it is time to do your job.”
The king and the council members nodded in agreement, and then ushered their way out of the tower, without giving Soleh the courtesy of an acknowledgment. She felt more than insulted, though her anger could do nothing to override the fear of the unknown that was building up inside her.
“I demand to know what this is about,” she said, trying to sound forceful.
“You will,” mumbled the Captain.
The Sisters remained silent, as was their wont.
“Tell me, both of you. Now!”
“No!” the Highest snapped. Soleh was taken aback by both his tone and the better-than-thou look that crossed his face. “You will not make demands of me. I am still your superior, Minister. I expect you to treat me as such.”
Soleh forced her head to bow. “You have my apologies, Highest. Please, show me where I must be, so I can dispense Karak’s justice.”
Strangely, Clovis motioned to the two Sisters and allowed them to lead the way as he walked toward the staircase at the far end of the circular room. Captain Gregorian scaled the steps after him, with Soleh on his heels. She had to get up there. She had to see what was important enough to rip her from the arms of her beloved creator. Thessaly took up the rear, a guarded look on her face as she climbed the steps one at a time. She refused to look Soleh in the eye.
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