Without another word, we followed Damian out of the room to face whatever meeting he and the general had planned.
Damian paused to look out over those who had gathered — only the select few who knew the truth of what had happened, or most of it anyway — and then resumed pacing. Tanoori’s hands were clutched in the folds of her skirt as she gazed up at the king, as did Lenora, the girl who had given me her nightgown and helped me so that I could get to Damian when Vera had taken control of the palace, even though I had been forced to take her to the breeding house before Damian dispatched his father. I wasn’t sure why she was here, but Tanoori had insisted that she bring her.
Maybe she was hoping Lenora could help calm the people’s fears if she knew how much the king cared about them. Word of General Tinso’s letter declaring war again had circulated the palace in record time, and the unrest of Damian’s subjects had even reached the guards’ ears, from what Deron told me as we waited for everyone to gather for the meeting. He said whispers of where the king’s true loyalty lay — of what he would do if he must fight his mother’s people — were building strength. And yet others wanted answers to what had happened to Vera. They wanted to know what power she had wielded, and what she had done to all of them.
My hand rested on the hilt of my sword. Though all those gathered were close allies, and friends, I still felt on edge. Nervous that a new threat could attack at any moment — and I refused to be caught off guard. Rafe had ensured that I couldn’t hurt him, but at least he hadn’t made it so I couldn’t protect Damian, as long as Rafe wasn’t the one threatening his life.
Despite my own turmoil, I was careful to keep my face blank, to hide the pain and guilt that festered deep inside, squirming through my muscle and bone, surging through my blood like a parasite. I had to tell Damian the truth of what had happened, and soon. We also needed to talk to Eljin as soon as possible. Alone. I wanted answers about Blevon — about Sì Miào Chán Wù, the temple in Blevon, and Rén Zhsas, the three powerful sorcerers who lived there, whom Eljin had mentioned petitioning for help if things went badly with Vera and Damian. Rafe’s words in the jungle rose back up, taunting me. He’d claimed that Dansii knew the secrets Blevon had worked so hard to keep to themselves — he’d hinted that Dansii had power beyond even what the Blevonese were capable of or knew to be possible.
The time for secrets had passed. Eljin had to see that. I’d make him see it.
And there was also the problem of the man in the dungeons. I hadn’t told anyone what he’d said and done to me yet. The one who called himself Manu de Reich os Deos.
And of course, Rylan. I had to get him back. I had to go after him, whether Damian wanted me to or not — it was my fault he was injured and captured by Dansii.
I felt as though we were being pulled in too many directions without knowing where the true threat — or purpose of the attacks — lay. We needed to make a plan and do something.
When I glanced up, Damian was watching me. Our eyes met, and for a brief moment, the mask he wore slipped, and I could see the fear lurking beneath his collected exterior. But in the blink of an eye it was gone, and he looked away.
It didn’t seem real that just this morning I’d come stumbling out of the jungle to find him standing on the wall, watching for me in desperation, fearing the worst after Jax had shown up at the palace in the middle of the night, sick and alone, save for one of Rafe’s men. It almost seemed a dream that Jax truly was back and that Lisbet had healed him of the jungle fever he’d caught.
The door closest to Damian opened, and Lisbet came in, holding Jax’s hand. She’d healed his body, but her power didn’t extend to reversing the emotional damage his abduction had caused. Jax clung to Lisbet as they walked over to where Tanoori and Lenora stood. He hadn’t left her side since waking up in his room, healed from his ordeal the night before. As I watched Damian’s half brother cower against Lisbet, pressing as close to her as he could physically get, I couldn’t help the sadness that washed over me. Yet another child’s innocence shattered by the ravages of war. Thankfully, he hadn’t been forced to face death — but he’d come close. Lisbet had an arm wrapped around him, but her face was also turned up to Damian, waiting with everyone else. The empty space next to her was all too evident, since Eljin was still in bed healing.
“I suppose we’d better get started.” Damian finally spoke.
I felt, more than saw, Deron stiffen next to me, preparing himself for whatever was to come. I, too, found myself looking to Damian, wondering what he was planning on saying. He hadn’t told me about a meeting. General Ferraun stood near Lisbet and Jax, his shoulders stiff beneath his uniform’s golden epaulettes, which denoted his rank. The rest of the guard flanked the king, in our usual positions, even though this wasn’t a formal proceeding. Tanoori and Lenora were to my right, huddled together.
“You are all people I trust — or people who are trusted by those whom I trust.” He glanced at Lenora, standing next to Tanoori. “We are under siege, and I want nothing more than to protect my kingdom — my people — from further harm. I might be the king of Antion, but I admit that I’m struggling to decide what is best. That’s why you’re here. To help me and General Ferraun make a decision. We need help. We need your help.”
I’d spent so much of my life training to protect Damian, but after falling in love with him, that desire extended to more than just his physical safety. And now, as I watched him, that urge to shield him from hurt swelled within me so strongly, I had to force myself to remain still, rather than stepping toward him and taking his hand in mine. He stood tall, his expression as calm and confident as ever, despite his words to the contrary. Even as he admitted to needing help, he still managed to exude the power and surety that would comfort his subjects. But I knew him well enough to see the truth lurking in his eyes.
“Sire, if I may speak.” Tanoori lifted up her hand, and Damian nodded, gesturing for her to continue. “You’ve assigned me to take care of the other women and babies from … from …”
“Yes,” Damian interjected when Tanoori couldn’t seem to come up with a word or name to describe the breeding house his father had sentenced them to, just for the crime of being orphans. “And you’ve done a remarkable job.”
“Thank you.” Tanoori inclined her head. “But some of the women — including myself — wish to do more with our lives.”
“As is to be expected, but I don’t see the relevance to the current situation,” Damian said.
“We wish to fight, Your Majesty,” Lenora burst out, stepping up next to Tanoori, her shoulders thrown back and chin raised. “We wish to learn to defend ourselves and help you defeat the enemies that are threatening Antion.”
Damian’s eyebrows lifted, and I heard a few of the guards around us murmuring in disbelief.
“Impossible,” General Ferraun responded before Damian could speak again. “I don’t have time to assign my men to teach women how to wield a sword. They’d be better off mending uniforms, preparing bandages, doing all that needs to be done to support the men who will be fighting this war.”
“Are you implying that women can’t learn how to fight?” Lenora turned on the general, clearly affronted by the condescending tone in his voice. “What about Alexa? Isn’t she an example of just how capable a woman can be?”
“There are plenty of women who wish to stay here and do the very things you suggest,” Tanoori added, her tone more placating. “But some of us wish to do more. We don’t ever want to feel helpless or incapable of protecting ourselves again.”
“Even if I could be convinced that you girls were capable of learning how to fight, I already told you I don’t have enough men, or time, to do it!” The general’s face was turning red in his irritation. “This is no game — we have a war to deal with!”
“You think we don’t know that?” Lenora practically shouted back.
“Enough.” Damian’s voice rose over them all, and everyone immediately fell silent, turning to look a
t the king. He took a deep breath through his nose, his lips tightening into a thin line as he deliberated. “How many women feel this way, Tanoori?” he finally asked.
When the general began to protest, Damian held up a hand, and General Ferraun’s mouth snapped shut again.
“As I said,” Tanoori began, “most of the women still wish to stay here, and to help in other ways. Especially those with babies or who are pregnant. But there are probably six or seven of us who wish to learn to fight.”
Damian was silent for a long moment again, and then he nodded once, a brief jerk of his head. “We are short on men, but we can spare one or two to teach you at least basic sparring and defensive skills, and then you can continue to practice amongst yourselves until you are up to par with the other soldiers. If you wish to fight, I will not stop you. We need all the help we can get, and I know from personal experience that a woman is just as capable as a man, with the right training.” He gave me a grim smile of acknowledgment, and I bowed my head slightly in return.
“Thank you, Sire.” Tanoori also bowed her head, as did Lenora. “We are fast learners; it won’t take much time away from your men at all. I promise.” This was addressed to the general, whose lips were pursed together in displeasure. But he, too, nodded curtly.
“As the king wishes,” was all he said.
“Now that we have that settled, if we could please return to the topic at hand.”
From where I stood, directly next to Damian, I could see the vein along his temple standing out, a sure sign that he had a headache. But he hid it well as he surveyed those before him.
“We have more than one major problem that we need to address, and I’m hoping that you might offer input or insight to help us find some solutions.” He turned to General Ferraun. “Were you able to get any information from the Dansiian prisoners?”
“I interrogated the man you asked me to. Not only did he refuse to concede any information, he made threats against you….”
When he trailed off, Damian stiffened next to me. “And?” he prompted.
“And others who are close to you,” General Ferraun admitted, his eyes flitting to me and then back to the king.
Damian’s hand clenched into a fist, a wave of hot rage emanating from him, but my body ran cold as I thought of Manu, the terrifying man in the dungeons who had come to the palace with Vera. I’d gone to interrogate him myself, against Damian’s wishes, and he had somehow forced a horrible vision into my mind — a vision of Damian being killed. He’d made me hear things, see things, even feel things, that weren’t really happening. He’d threatened Damian; he’d claimed that the “true king,” his king — King Armando — would destroy us all. That Armando would use me, and when he was done with me, he’d kill me. I’d meant to tell Damian about it, but with everything else that had happened …
“I have sentenced him to death by beheading tonight to set an example for the other Dansiians,” the general continued quickly. “We will not be getting anything useful out of him, and I have a bad feeling about that man. I learned long ago to trust my instincts. I know that you wish to avoid bloodshed if possible, but I strongly urge you to agree to my sentencing.”
“Done. The sooner he’s dead, the better,” Damian growled. General Ferraun’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at the king’s vehemence. “The rest of the Dansiians must be interrogated as soon as possible. They were close to Vera, perhaps they could —”
“Damian, I have to tell you something,” I interrupted. “The man in the dungeons, he —”
I was cut off by a shriek from the hallway, followed by the thud of a body.
“What was that?” Jerrod said in alarm from the other side of Damian.
And then the door closest to us flew open. “Your Majesty! He’s com —”
Whatever the soldier standing guard had been about to say was cut off when a sword impaled him from behind, thrusting out through his belly, then disappearing again. With an agonized scream that faded to a gurgle, the man slumped to the ground, dead.
And standing behind him, holding the bloody sword, was the man in the black-and-white robes who called himself Manu de Reich os Deos.
“How did he escape?” someone shouted over the dull roar of blood in my ears.
There was no time to worry that I’d tried to warn them too late about what he’d done to me in the dungeons. I unsheathed my sword, along with the rest of the guard. The general did as well, rushing to stand in front of Tanoori and Lenora. Lisbet had already grabbed Jax’s hand and was running to the back of the room, to the other door. I had a glimpse of his eyes growing wide with terror before she pulled him away.
“Ah, the would-be king and his pathetic entourage of subjects and advisors.” Manu stepped over the body and moved forward into the room, his pace slow and deliberate. His eyes met mine across the expanse, and his lips curled into a hideous imitation of a smile. “Did you tell your lover about our little visit in the dungeons yet?”
“Your little what?” Damian whirled on me.
“Apparently not.” Manu laughed, a maniacal crow of glee. He paused before moving within striking range of the general or anyone else.
“When did you talk to him?” Barely controlled anger flashed in Damian’s eyes. “I gave strict orders to keep you away from this man.”
“Now’s not exactly the best time to be having this conversation,” I hedged, pointing my sword at Manu, who stood still, watching us.
“He’s just an old man. He poses no true threat,” General Ferraun said.
“An old man who managed to escape your dungeon and make it all the way up here without being stopped,” Manu countered. “An old man whom you are all so afraid of, no one has made the first move yet.”
“You’re no sorcerer,” Damian said. “So whatever you did to escape must have been impressive indeed, but I guarantee you are no match for me and my guard.”
“Not a sorcerer? Hmmm … maybe not the kind you are familiar with, it’s true. But the king I serve — the true king — dreams of a new world and a new breed of sorcery. And I am at his side, helping to create it for him.” He reached into his robe and withdrew a small vial with a dark red liquid inside of it. “Behold, the power of The Summoner.”
“Stop him!” I shouted, lunging forward, but it was too late. He threw the bottle to the ground, where it exploded. The minute the liquid hit the air, it turned into a dark vapor that swirled and grew, larger and larger. It was as though he’d unleashed a storm in the middle of the throne room. It hid Manu from view, then expanded to the general, Tanoori, and Lenora, billowing toward the rest of us. Someone screamed, but I couldn’t tell who it came from.
“Damian!” I cried out. “Run! Leave this place!”
There were more screams from within the depths of the black cloud as it swirled to where the first few members of the guard had begun to back up, bumping into one another in their haste to get away but still trying to protect the king, with swords raised.
Damian lifted his hands, and the ground began to tremble. But an earthquake would do nothing to stop whatever evil Manu had unleashed on us. I grabbed his arm. “Damian, go,” I shouted, shoving him behind me and lifting my sword. “Captain, get him out of here!”
“No, I’m not leaving you!” Damian yanked free of Deron’s grasp, but the captain of the guard was bigger and stronger than the king. He wrapped both arms around Damian, trapping his arms at his sides, and physically forced him away from me, dragging him down the stairs with the help of Mateo and Asher, who had to grab his legs as he thrashed and shouted, cursing them and me, as his men rushed him away.
The ground began to shake again, as Damian continued to fight against his own guard.
“Alexa!” He roared. “No!”
He managed to get an arm free and slammed his elbow into Deron’s shoulder, then he thrust his hand out and sent Asher flying back to slam into the ground with a thud. “ALEXA!”
And then the cloud reached me, and he was gone.
And then someone rushed toward me through the darkness.
My eyes widened in shock when I saw Iker lifting his hands to hurtle another ball of his unholy fire at me. I threw my body to the side, slamming into the railing and flipping over it, falling to the ground with a bone-jarring thud. How could he be back? I’d seen him die. I’d killed him.
Iker leaped over the railing as if it were nothing, landing nimbly in front of me, then he rolled his head and his face changed, becoming Rafe. I barely kept myself from screaming as he stalked forward through the darkness.
“Look at me, Alexa,” he said, his voice hissing all around me, burning through me. “You’re mine now. You will do whatever I say.”
There was more screaming from behind me. Or in front of me. I couldn’t tell where I was anymore as I scrambled backward on my hands and feet, reaching for my sword, which had come out of my grip when I fell.
“You will kill him. You will kill all of them,” Rafe shouted, as Damian stepped forward out of the darkness, followed by Rylan. My fingers brushed the hilt of my sword, and I grabbed it, lurching back up onto my feet, even though I was strangely dizzy. The darkness and Rafe’s grinning, laughing face swam before me as I stumbled forward.
“No,” I whispered.
“Oh yes. You will be marvelous. You’ll kill everyone I tell you to.” Rafe shoved Rylan toward me. “You already started the job with this one!”
“NO!” I rushed forward, thrusting my sword into Rafe, but he popped into nothing, and my momentum carried me forward, until I tripped over something and nearly fell. I choked back a scream when I looked down at the charred body of Papa.
This isn’t real. This can’t be real. Some part of my brain attempted to convince me, but as I tried to escape the sight of my father lying there dead, I tripped over another body — this time my mother. And next to her was Marcel, his face pale and drawn, just as he’d looked when he’d fallen beside me in the jungle. Blood coated his neck, chest, and stomach.
Endure Page 2
