by Maggie Platt
“It is hard for me to watch fighting, Your Majesty,” Tovi admitted, staring at her plate.
“Look at me as you speak,” he demanded too calmly. “I have been lenient with you on many matters, but you must start behaving as one of my servants, which is what you are if you live on this mountain.” Tovi looked up to meet his gaze. “There, that’s better, isn’t it? You know, Tovi, I think it is time we had an important talk.”
The hairs on Eryx’s neck rose.
“It’s very important for you to know the truth, Tovi, and if I am not mistaken, you have been told many lies since coming here. Lies about me, lies about your people, lies about Adwin, whom you call Silas. Hear me clearly, Tovi. Xanthe is in prison because of these lies. She will stay there until she is willing to admit the truth. That is how far I have gone to protect you, Tovi. Now, answer me honestly. Who else has spoken to you about Silas since you have come here?”
This was it. Tovi would divulge the truth about the heart hidden beneath his fighter’s gloves.
“No one, Your Majesty,” Tovi said calmly. King Damien’s unblinking, calculating stare bored into her, but she held her ground.
“Well, well, well,” he said as he sat back in his chair, a smile barely turning up one side of his mouth. “You have progressed further than I thought.”
CHAPTER 40
The sun was setting around the side of Mount Damien, but instead of the colors Tovi would have seen in Adia, there was only a brief, red semicircle in the sky before everything turned to gray. Still, Tovi stared at the place on the cloudy horizon where the sun had just vanished, wishing she was home.
She was seated on Rhaxma’s balcony. A golden candelabra with at least fifty candles spanned the entire length of a long table. A single diamond floated in each candle’s melted wax, casting glittering reflections around the terrace. Strands of pearls were looped in asymmetric heaps around the entire tabletop with its golden plates and sparkling crystal.
She noticed how Rhaxma glared in her direction with fury in her eyes, which darted from Calix’s face to his hand that rested possessively on Tovi’s waist.
It was a small group. Leeto had been gone for several days now. Xanthe had been arrested, and Jairus was absent. The group consisted of hostess Rhaxma, Tovi, Calix, BiBi, Eryx, and Megara.
As everyone settled into the meal, the patio doors opened unexpectedly. Rhaxma stood and squealed, throwing herself into the arms of her brother. “Leeto! Where have you been!” she cried with unashamed joy.
Calix had just been lifting his cup to his lips, but on sight of Leeto, the crystal shattered and sent the deep red wine spraying onto the white tablecloth. Shaking the wetness from his hand, Calix stood, staring formidably at the man with orange hair and burning yellow eyes. His neck veins looked ready to burst.
“Calix,” Leeto greeted smoothly. “How are you, old friend?”
Calix reached across the table, grabbed Leeto’s shirt in his fists, and dragged him to the other side, knocking over the candelabra and engulfing the entire table in flames. Everyone jumped from their seats to avoid the spreading fire, watching the two who were eye-to-eye.
Calix’s snarling face was illuminated by the inferno. “Let me be the first to congratulate you on your pointless victory.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Calix. It must be an honest mistake,” Leeto said a little too coolly, darkness creeping into his eyes.
“You know exactly what you’ve done,” Calix roared, still holding onto Leeto’s shirt and tugging him toward the balcony railing. “Don’t lie to me, Leeto. I know you! You’ve been gone for days, hoping that my anger would subside.”
Losing the innocent pretense, Leeto hissed back, “I’ve been gone for many more reasons than that. It won’t be long now before I rule Adia and this mountain, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”
A growl escaped from the back of Calix’s throat. He lifted Leeto off the ground, bending him over the railing and looking him full in the face before heaving him off the terrace. There was a brief, horrifying moment when Leeto’s hands clawed at the air, as if trying to catch a lifesaving hold. One awful thud later, Leeto’s body lay on the cobblestone below, his limbs splayed at unnatural angles.
Rhaxma nearly threw herself over the railing as she screamed and reached for her brother. It was Eryx who grabbed her around the waist just in time. There was another shriek as their mother ran into the street, falling on her son and crying for help.
Calix, taking one last look at the crumpled body below, spit once on the ground and sauntered through the door, leaving Tovi behind. She stood in shock, her eyes darting between the dead body and the table that was in flames. She had never seen death and destruction like this before.
As the others helped Rhaxma inside, Eryx took hold of Tovi and whispered urgently in her ear, “You have to get out of here. It’s not safe. Silas can protect you. You must leave. Don’t wait until you are stronger. Get out now.”
As he let go, she saw the look of panic in his eyes. She stumbled backward and made her way through the doors, down the stairs, and out into the warm night. Teresia Pyralis still clutched at her son, blood from his cracked head making black rivers between the cobblestones.
Not bothering to stay hidden, Tovi ran straight through the middle of the courtyard in plain sight of all the Masters and the palace itself. All she knew was that she wanted to get as far away as possible—off the vile mountain and back to the safety of Adia and Silas. She headed in the direction of the mines, but she had no idea if she would be able to operate the baskets without help. If that failed, she supposed she could descend the outside of the mountain on foot. It would be extremely difficult, and she had no food or shelter or even decent clothes for climbing. How could she make this journey in just a silk dress? She shook her head to clear it. She couldn’t worry about that now. She needed to focus on getting as far away as possible. She hadn’t run this fast since her morning sprints to the ridge. Her lungs burned worse than her throbbing back.
She was still within the confines of the square when an angry hand grabbed her and swung her around. Calix looked as if he was willing to murder again. “Where do you think you are going?”
His fingers digging into her arm, he dragged her to the palace, up the stairs, and in through the front doors. Her fighting and clawing didn’t seem to faze him. He didn’t stop as he took long strides through the hallways, finally reaching the throne room.
CHAPTER 41
“Well, my dear, this is not how I wanted things to end for you.” Damien said, looking down at his granddaughter. He could sense her weakness and fear. “Where were you going just now?” he asked with ice in his foul voice.
“Nowhere. I just panicked,” the girl faltered.
He cackled. “You are becoming such a natural at Control. It is a pity you want to leave here in such a hurry. No matter. I am a gracious king, forgiving and merciful, even to the likes of you. Everything will go right back to normal if you look me in the eye and tell me that you know the truth: that Adwin is nothing compared to me, that he could never be as powerful as me, that he could never be worthy of your love and loyalty like me.”
Tovi looked away from him and seemed to be searching the mural for something. Damien watched her closely, wondering what had captivated her so completely. Her eyebrows drew together, and her head tilted to the side. Her gaze focused on something in the design, and there was a sudden intensity in her stance. Something was coming over her so strongly that it was visible. She began to transform, and he began to panic. Her hair faded from navy blue to light brown with thick golden streaks. Her eyes lightened to a sparkling baby blue, and the purple star disappeared. She looked up toward him, a dangerous energy emanating from her.
The girl in the mural. One of the four. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he took in her new colors that confirmed his fear. She was not only his heir; she was also one of the conquerors in the mural. Helena. Jairus. Tali. Tovi. If Lena had survived her exec
ution all those years ago, the four could very possibly be reunited. The prophecy could come to pass. They could conquer the mountain and vanquish his legacy.
“You are nothing compared to Silas,” Tovi stated, her gaze now locked on her captor. He looked back at her. So lost in his thoughts of the prophecy, he had momentarily forgotten she was there.
He stood from his throne and marched toward her, grasping her arm just where there were fresh bruises. He pulled her to the wall and forced her to look at certain scenes. “Look at him, Tovi! He left us. He hated us. And he hates you, too. Do not be deceived by his lies. He hates you, Tovi. He hates you!” He was now in a frenzy, nearly jumping up and down with each emphasis. Black sweat was dripping into his eyes, clouding his vision. He swiped at the thick sludge, and he noticed his hands were webbed with dark veins. He was losing control.
“Don’t you see what a mess he left us in? Don’t you see what he has done? Look at this! Do you see the squalor? Do you see the suffering?” He pushed her toward the darker bits of the mural, the part after Silas had left. “Look at what happened when he abandoned me!”
Tovi pulled her arm from his grip and matched his glare.
Damien grabbed Tovi’s hand and yanked her glove away, exposing the brown heart. The sight of it made him want to kill her right then, regardless of his blood in her veins. The only thing stopping him was that he couldn’t risk her disappearance in front of Calix and so many guards. Better to let her rot in the dungeon without ever knowing her true identity.
“Get her out of my sight!” he roared.
As the guards held her by the elbows and started yanking her toward the door, she aimed one fiercer look at him. “Good night, Grandfather,” she said.
He seethed and watched her go. How did she know? How long had she known? Had she played him like a fool this entire time? Was this a part of the prophecy?
His frantic thoughts ricocheted in all directions. The prophecy. His offspring. How had she survived? How did she make her way back to this palace? Was it all a plot? A plan? A scheme that was somehow better than his own? Who had planned this? Who was responsible? Surely the girl didn’t do this on her own.
He gritted his teeth and glared at the mural.
Silas.
CHAPTER 42
The prison beneath the palace was made up of one long, dark corridor. Cells lining each side were separated by rusted metal bars. Water dripped down the stone perimeter, leaving furry green paths of mold and decay. There were no windows, leaving the space dank and dark, save for the dim light from a few mounted torches.
Guards led Tovi past cells inhabited by prisoners who looked less than half alive. Each of them stared through blank eyes as they sat on the cold stone floor. Coming to a halt near an empty stall, one of the guards twisted an ancient key, which screeched and scraped before the lock popped.
“In you go,” he said gruffly.
As the door swung shut behind her, the voice began. At first, she thought someone was speaking to her, and she looked around for the source. It didn’t take long to realize that the torturous words were in her own mind.
You are worthless Tovi Tivka . . . Completely worthless . . . You abandoned all the people who loved you in Adia, and now you have failed the few friends you had on this mountain . . . You are despicable . . . The pain you put Ganya through has nearly killed her . . . Xanthe will surely die in this place . . . And all of this you have done for yourself . . . You are selfish, Tovi . . . You are worthless . . .
The words and guilt brought her to her knees, and she knelt near the door of her cell, clutching the bars with cold, white hands.
Her mind travelled back to just a few moments before, as she stood in the throne room looking at the mural. Everything had suddenly made so much sense. All the stories she had learned as a child and since coming to the mountain dropped into place in their correct order. She was the child of Prince Ajax, and King Damien feared she and her siblings would one day rebel. He had sent them to die. Silas hadn’t stolen her from her family. He had saved her life, and Tali’s.
She had too many questions to count, but in that instant, while King Damien spewed his hate and lies, she had known without a doubt that Silas—Adwin—was good. He was good, and he loved her. Questions still spun around and around in her mind, but somehow clinging to that truth made everything else a little more bearable.
In the far corner of the cell to her right, a man lay curled on his side. His back was completely blank, void of any marks. Every few minutes he let out a moan of pain and shivered.
To Tovi’s left was an old woman sitting against the back wall picking black crust from under her fingernails. Her pale lavender hair was stringy and dirty, and she had to frequently brush it out of her face. She wore frayed and patched clothing, and she seemed to be talking to herself in a low whisper.
Looking across the narrow corridor to the cells on the other side, Tovi saw a gleam of silver.
“Xanthe . . . ” Tovi whispered.
Xanthe, who had been sitting against the side of her enclosure, looked at Tovi with unspoken disgust. Tovi began to drown in the voice again.
Look what you’ve done to Xanthe . . . She will never forgive you . . . She will die here, and it’s all because of you . . . And your marks? Those marks will never come off . . . You are ruined . . . No one can fix this . . . If Silas sees them, he will hate you for what you have done . . . For what you have become . . . There is no turning back . . . You are worthless . . .
“She won’t talk to you, you know,” came a raspy voice. Turning, Tovi saw the old lady had moved closer, gripping the bars that separated them with gnarled, wrinkled fingers. Large, dull eyes looked through the metal rods, darting between Xanthe and Tovi. “I’ve tried and tried, but she don’t respond to nobody. ‘Cept the visitor man.”
“Who is the visitor man?” Tovi asked, the question echoing through the chamber.
Hesper’s story of his mother’s time in prison flowed back through her memory. Was this the same visitor that had taken his mother away? Tovi‘s heart beat fast as she thought of Silas’ face, hoping with every last bit of strength that the visitor was him.
“Shhhh, the guards sit up top of the stairs, but you still don’t wanna be too loud about these things. The visitor man isn’t allowed, you see,” she whispered. “Come, sit down.” She gestured as if she was in her own living room. They took seats in the corner, each resting their backs against the stone wall. Even with the metal bars between them, they were only inches apart.
Tovi whispered this time. “I’m Tovi.”
“My name’s Ismene.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Longer than I care to guess. If it weren’t for the visitor man, I wouldn’t even know how long a day lasts. As it just so happens, he visits every day, near enough the same time, so we are kinda aware of the passing time. But if it helps you to understand, I was just a mite older than you when I came down those stairs.”
“That’s awful!” Tovi cried, trying her best to hold down her volume.
“Oh, you get used to it, lovey. It’s not so bad. You’ll get used to the voice . . . and sleeping on the rocks. You’ll forget what food tastes like out there, too.”
“You hear the voice?”
“Indeed, I do. That is part of the prison, you see. While you are here, in this here dark and terrible pit, you will hear all the things that old Damien has tried to teach you. The problem is, you are here because of that heart in your hand. The two don’t go together too good, if you know what I mean, and that’s why you hear the voice and feel the pain.
“For the first few years of my time down here, I tried to get rid of it. Damien promised me that if the heart was gone from my hand, I could go back to my family, that life would be perfect again. It’s hazy to me now, but I don’t really think it was ever that perfect to begin with. It’s just another one of his tricks. Anyhow, I tried every which way to get rid of the blasted thing,” she said, holding up
her hand for Tovi to see. It was crisscrossed with jagged white scars. “Several times I tried to scratch it away, sometimes with my own nails, sometimes with my teeth, even once by rubbing it over the rusted part of these bars. It never worked.”
Tovi was reminded of her own irrational attempts at scraping the marks off her back.
“Tell me about the visitor. Who is he?”
The ragged lady brought her face close to the bars, and Tovi could feel her warm breath on her skin. “I don’t know his name, but he comes and sits with me every day. Comes and visits with each one of us, without fail. Comes in a secret door so he doesn’t have to pass them guards. He’s as old as me, I reckon, with wrinkles as droopy as mine. And each and every time he comes, he offers to take us away, take us to a better place out yonder. A place more beautiful than we can imagine.”
Tovi’s heart sank. Wrinkles? It couldn’t be Silas. “Why don’t you go with him?” she asked, trying to hide her deep disappointment.
Ismene’s eyes grew sad and she started picking at her fingers again. “I don’t s’pose I know why. He says it’ll be hard, and I just don’t know if I’ve got it in me. I wanna go, just don’t know if I can. Strange things happen in this place. Strange things indeed. See that young feller over on the other side of them bars? One day, he took the visitor man up on his offer. Told him he was ready to leave and get out of here. I heard him with mine own ears. Then, the visitor man says to him, ‘It’s gonna be hard. And it’s gonna be worse before it gets better. But it’ll be worth it.’
“They left, and I thought he was gone for good. He wasn’t the first one to leave with him. But a few minutes later, he was back. Two guards had hold of him, lookin’ confused, tryin’ to figure out how he got out from behind them bars. They was still locked, you see.
“Next day, the visitor man took a ‘specially long time with him, telling him it was okay, and they’d try again. But that boy won’t even look at him no more. Won’t talk to nobody. Guess he’s shamed it didn’t work out the first time.
