Elayna weighed her options. Seeing as she had none, it didn’t take long. “Ian,” she said crisply, “let him go.”
I released the hand I was crushing. Giving me a long, death threat of a scowl, the warrior took his throbbing, split knuckles and returned to his post behind me.
“As I’ve said,” Elayna continued, “we’re grateful for your support. But Ian has pledged himself to us as well. We need him and his magic to win this war. Is there some other compensation we might offer you?”
“Compensation? Do you even know how our mother died?” Elek demanded, suddenly conceding kinship, yet insulting her at the same time. “The witch seduced her. He laid foul hands on her body. He gained her trust. Then he selfishly consumed her life for the pleasure of his own.”
Unable to let that one go, I shouted, “You think it pleased me to kill her?” and all eyes snapped to mine. “For six years I worshipped that woman. I loved her,” I said, not even caring I was admitting it to a room full of strangers. “I channeled the Crown of Stones to win Aylagar’s goddamn war before the Langorians killed us all. I was trying to protect us, to protect her. Waking up to find Aylagar dead by my hand, waking up to find them all dead… Whatever you might do to me, Elek, it can’t compare to the pain I felt that day, and every fucking day after. And I didn’t seduce her. It was the other goddamn way around.”
Quiet fell heavy in the room. No one moved. No one seemed interested in even looking at me, except Elek. He held my stare for several minutes, scrunching his bird wings tighter and tighter. He said nothing, though. And I had nothing left to say. So I looked away.
“If my demands are not met,” Elek said then, “I will withdraw support. And it is not merely muscle and steel you will lose.” His gaze skipped to the Arullan woman at the table. “Ordree, I do not believe the King has shared the extent of our contribution with the Queen. Please supply her with a demonstration.”
The springy haired woman rose from her chair. The edges of her mail shirt clinked against the table as she bowed to Elek. Turning, she spoke quietly to one of the male warriors behind her. As he ducked from the room, Ordree crossed to the lone window. Unmindful of our curious eyes, she tugged the heavy drapes wide and threw open the casement. Sunlight bathed the small courtyard outside in bright yellow. A few servants were milling about. Men were unloading grain sacks from a wagon. They chatted as they crossed the yard, visibly solemn after today’s events.
Ordree went back to the table. She collected her bow, and I felt Jarryd’s interest pique. Noticing his stare, Ordree grinned—harder at realizing his attention was on the bow and not her.
A few moments later, the warrior she’d spoken to came into view outside the window. He carried a cinched black bag in one hand as he traversed the courtyard. The bag was large enough to accommodate a head, though I was likely the only one imagining such morbid contents (and it was too pliable to be anything that solid). Still, the notion lingered as he hung the bag from the limb of the largest tree in the courtyard. After, he fled the area quickly.
Ordree selected an arrow from her quiver. The fletching was a beautiful bright red. I wasn’t surprised when she stuck it in the hearth and fire clung to the steel. By the glazed head, I knew it was treated with something.
Elek rose from his chair. “Come closer, all of you. Not the witch,” he added, signaling to the warrior breathing down my neck. “Stay with him.”
I didn’t protest my exclusion. I had a decent enough view as everyone moved toward the window, but stayed wide to give Ordree room. Notching her arrow, with less than a second’s aim the woman took her shot, and the bolt zipped through the open window and across the courtyard. The flaming barb hit dead center of the bag—and everything exploded: the bag, the tree, the ground beneath it, and the horse and cart behind it. Fiery timber, dirt clumps, and charred horse pieces blew out in all directions. As the debris rained, mayhem descended with it. Shouts went out for water. Guards entered the scene as servants fled.
A different air fell in the War Room. The quiet was tense and deep, as Jarryd and I bounced shock and concern back and forth through the link like a wave trapped in a bucket. Elek was grinning ear to ear. Jillyan gazed raptly out the window. Elayna turned to me with eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Wonder gripped her face and defeat darkened her stare. I knew right then, as she pivoted back to the window, her arsenal was all but empty. There was little more she could do to fight for me. And why would she?
Why would Rella need my spells, with all their current limitations and problems, when Elek was offering his own kind of magic? Even I was curious to know: what kind of explosion could he create with a bag bigger than a head?
A sudden, fast swipe of cold steel cut across the back of my neck. I stood up swinging, and decked the guard behind me. As he clamored to his feet, I grabbed my chair and bashed him in the face with it. The seat splintered. One of the legs flew off. He went to his knees and I hit him with the broken frame until he was sprawled out unconscious across the table.
Tossing the pieces of chair, I slid a careful hand to the back of my neck; the wound was as deep as it felt. My shirt was wetting fast with blood. The Kayn’l his weapon left behind was already burning its way in. Undiluted, the elixir was thick, but the blade my attacker had dropped on the floor was small. Its surface couldn’t have held more than a smear, certainly not enough to keep me from casting for long. But ‘now’ was the problem. Put straight into the blood, the drug’s effects were immediate. I couldn’t channel a single drop of magic. Not even the scars were responding. I was down to blades only. I drew them both, and Elek’s warriors pulled their weapons. Ordree notched another arrow.
Friends and enemies alike went still, waiting to see what I would do next.
The answer was obvious: nothing.
I was in a confined space with a bunch of pissed off Arullans, no magic, and potential hostages. Blood was dampening my back and the air had become unbearably hot. The likelihood of us all getting out unscathed was lessening with each ragged breath I took.
Jarryd knew it. The glare he trained on me was fearsome. The emotion accompanying it was mercifully watered down by the smoldering pain of Kayn’l spreading through my veins.
Elek approached. “Though it would pain me to do so, if seeing you dead requires a sacrifice—in honor of my good mother—so be it.” He made eye contact with Ordree. As she lit another arrow from the hearth, Elek donned the only genuine smile I’d seen him wear. It was unabashed victory.
I understood why as Ordree aimed for the Arullan closest to the Queen. Hanging from his belt, and the belt of every warrior in the room, was a miniature version of the exploding bag.
Elek counted. “Five…four…three…”
Hesitation ran across Ordree’s focused gaze. I couldn’t rely on it being enough to stop her.
I threw down my weapons. As the clatter stopped, Jarryd hissed a curse. Jillyan’s eyes clouded with frustration. Elayna, arms at her sides, clenched both fists. One moved to hover over the blade at her hip. I shook my head, and she dropped her hand.
Elayna addressed Elek with a firm voice. “Senior Orator, you have guested in our home. You fought with us this day. Civil war threatens your own land, yet you’ve pledged aid to our cause, vowing to help save Mirra’kelan from those who unlawfully seek to claim her. You have shown yourself to be a principled man,” Elayna gestured at the window, “and a powerful one. But I know Ian Troy. I know what he is capable of. And I fear you do not realize the full extent of the situation you are about to create. So I ask you one last time. Do not do this.”
“You flatter me, Your Grace,” Elek replied. “Yet you shame yourself and your throne by begging for the life of this murderous witch.”
Insinuation lit Elayna’s smile. “Oh, I assure you, Elek. It’s not his life I beg for.”
Elek’s dark, graceful jaw went stiff. His gaze on Elayna, he barked out his ord
er. “Take Troy below and lock him up. Gather all the magic whores that infest this island and lock them all up. I want this city cleansed of its filth by morning.”
FOURTEEN
Easing the needle through my skin, Sienn bit off the thread and tied the ends. “That’s it. You’re done. Your scars were undisturbed. The slice cut right between them.”
Face down on the cot, I groaned out my gratitude. “Great.”
“Move carefully, Ian. This bone needle the Arullans provided is too dull and thick for a man’s skin. It left the stiches too far apart for my liking.” Sitting on the edge of the cot, Sienn used the skirt of her dress to wipe the blood from my back. She helped me up. “Without stones, I have no way of combating the pain, or the weakness of blood loss. It’s best to go slow.”
“I’m fine. Thanks.” I straightened, hiding my grimace at the unmerciful pull across my shoulder blades. My shirt was on the floor. The fabric was soaked in red, but it was dry. And since it would stop everyone from ogling the magic-scars on my body, I decided not to be picky.
Sienn stopped me as I reached for the shirt. “Would you undue my work so quickly?”
I sighed and straightened, slower this time, as I glanced at our audience. I didn’t recognize the twenty four faces staring back at me. The other Shinree Elek’s men had apprehended and crammed into the cell appeared to be mostly house slaves from the city. Of my kinsmen hiding in the caves, only Sienn had been discovered when she dared come to the castle to heal Malaq. “I don’t want to scare anyone,” I said.
Sienn’s eyes lowered to my chest. They took the long, winding journey; following the pattern. “There can be beauty even in that which scares us.” She lifted a hand as if to touch the markings. It was the second time she’d done so. Like before, she dropped it fast.
“It’s okay,” I said. “My skin still feels the same.”
“Of course,” she said with a slight, embarrassed laugh. “Because it is the same.”
“No. It’s not.”
“The magic is not in the scars, Ian. It rests beneath them, inside you.”
“When I channel what the marks hold, they burn. They glow. There’s magic in them.”
“Impossible. Auras pass through us, not merge with us.”
She was wrong. About to say as much, I rested a hand on her arm and felt the slight tremble running through her body. Exhaustion had drawn circles beneath her eyes. I’d forgotten how many healings she’d performed since the eldring attack. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” Sienn glanced about at the room as I had a moment ago. “But I believe we could all use a meal.”
I pushed up from the cot. An immediate wave of dizziness threatened to drop me back down. I almost complied. But we had more wounded than beds, and several of my fellow detainees had injuries consistent with the fast swipe of eldring claws.
Not that Elek cared. I was fairly certain he only allowed Elayna to give us tools to mend our wounds so I wouldn’t bleed to death before he killed me. “I’m sure they’ll bring something soon. But I wouldn’t trust it.”
“I agree. Any food and water they give us will be laced. If we eat or drink…” Sienn took a shaky breath. “I will starve before I go back on Kayn’l. I will not be the person it makes me. Not ever again.”
“It won’t come to that.” Raising a hand, I smoothed the hair back from her drawn face. “I won’t let it.”
“Ian, I heard the Queen when she was here. She bid you do nothing when your magic returns.”
“Elayna is doing the best she can in a shaky situation. We have to back her for now. By morning, Malaq will be well enough to clear this up and get us out.”
“And if he’s not?”
“Then I will.”
“For Elayna to allow Elek such liberties, his weapon must be formidable. Have you seen its like before?”
“A few years back the Kaelish developed something similar. King Sarin held a demonstration in the city. Their powder burned like a wildfire, but it didn’t explode. At least, not anything like this. If Elek shares his formula, it will change everything. The balance of power will shift out of the hands of the Langorians. The Rellans will finally have the means to take care of themselves.”
“Now I understand why you allowed Elek to confine you. If Rella can defend itself, they no longer need you to do it for them. You will never have to be their weapon again.”
“Can you blame me for wanting that?”
“To be free to choose your own path is what all Shinree want. But from what you’ve told me, this Arullan will not let go of you easily. And without my spells to aid his recovery, Malaq may not wake for days. Even if you muster the patience to wait, Jarryd and Krillos will not allow our captivity to continue.”
“Krillos will put Malaq first. But you’re right about Jarryd. He once walked into a village overrun with eldring to find me. A couple boats full of Arullans won’t deter him for long.”
“Can you sense him at all?”
“Some. There isn’t enough Kayn’l in me to completely sever the link. It’s like being in a thick fog. You know something is in there with you, but you can’t make it out.”
“And Jillyan? Do you think she will leave you caged?”
I checked for jealousy at her mention of Jillyan. Disappointment swept through me when I found none. “She won’t do anything rash. Jillyan doesn’t risk more than she can afford to lose.”
“I disagree. She has fought beside you more than once.”
“And she fought well. But Jillyan regards battle the same way she does me. We’re a challenge to her, an adventure. Conquests are what Langorians thrive on.”
“You believe she cares nothing for you?”
“I didn’t say that. But if Jillyan thinks the danger outweighs the prize, she won’t risk it. And there’s no value in defying Elek. With his troops all over the castle, odds are she’d end up in a cell, or worse. She’s too smart for that. She’ll keep her distance until Malaq is conscious. Jillyan will take care of herself. It’s what she’s good at.”
Sienn’s eyes flitted past me to the cell door. “Then why is she here?”
Damn.
I turned around. For a moment, my concern for Jillyan’s disposition was displaced by the sight of her. Standing on the other side of the bars, wrapped in an exceptionally frilly gown, I was reminded of something I too often forgot: Jillyan was a princess. The heart shaped bodice, sweet yet alluring, hugged her plentiful breasts. The skirt was full, with a flowing, sheer train. The capped sleeves and cinched waist were trimmed in pearls. Pink and delicate was nothing I would have ever associated with Jillyan. But it worked on her. As I imagined even a grain sack would.
I shoved my attraction aside for the matter at hand. “You shouldn’t have come. It’s safer for you if they don’t know how closely we’re associated.”
“Associated?” Jillyan lifted her strong chin, causing her thick mane of black hair to slide away from her face. “That description is hard to reconcile with what my tongue was doing in your bed last night.”
I moved closer to the bars; wishing we were alone. I was a lot more effective apologizing with my hands. “I like the gown.”
“I imagine you do.”
I let my eyes roam. “Did you wear it for me?”
“Definitely not for you. Too many layers.” She wasn’t smiling, but her teasing tone implied she was letting me off the hook. “Elek has asked me to dine alone with him tonight.”
“What does he want with you?”
Pursing her full lips together, Jillyan made a face. “Have you not a single guess?”
“Oh. And you think this dress is going to protect you?”
“To the contrary. This dress is going to protect you.” Jillyan moved closer. Her breasts pressed against the bars. She ran a finger over the black magic-scars on the side of my face. “Ele
k appears to be taken with me. Elayna believes he would offer marriage if I were so inclined.”
“Marriage? He just met you. And you’re as much a fugitive as I am.”
Her dark eyes flashed. “You slept with me not an hour after we met. Is his interest really a stretch?”
The answer was obvious so I didn’t bother.
“And my fugitive status applies only to the shores of Mirra’kelan,” she pointed out. “In Arulla I am nothing of the kind. I am what Elek sees: a Princess. I am the Queen who brought Langor out of its dark time…a charming widow in need of care.”
“He has no idea.”
“Your flattery knows no bounds,” she smiled. “Fortunately, Elek is exactly as he seems. He was born into privilege and influence and feels entitled to all life has given him. He despises magic and those who make it. And what began as grief over his mother has long since become something else. Elek will not be content to leave you with that little scratch on your neck. He will hurt you, Ian. He will hurt all of you. But I can steer his thoughts in another direction while you escape.”
“I’m not escaping.”
“Of course you are. The plan is already in motion.” She glanced over her shoulder at the two Arullan guards at the end of the hall. Not seeing Jillyan in her pretty dress as a threat, one was sitting in his chair, engrossed in sharpening his knife. The other: a book. “Kiss me,” she whispered, leaning in. “Put your hand between my breasts.”
I glanced back at the children in the cell with me. Even longer at Sienn. “Um…”
“For the god’s sake, Ian.” Sinking her fingers into my hair, Jillyan pulled my head against the bars and kissed me. Her full lips devoured mine and after about five seconds I forgot about the eyes on us. Five more; and I stopped feeling the iron pressing into my face, only the soft, warm mounds of her breasts as I slid my fingers inside the neckline of her gown.
The feel of her made my pulse skip. I wanted to linger, but something was lodged in the space. Grasping what her tightly trussed breasts held between them, I tugged the object out with two fingers. My eyes were aimed over her shoulder, keeping track of the inattentive guards as I slid the small, hard pouch inside my front pocket.
The Crown of Stones: Magic-Borne Page 13
