She pushed her food around her plate, as the Whisperers left the room, wondering if it was poisoned. Surely that would be an easier way to kill her than setting the palace on fire? How could she possibly eat this meal, no matter how hungry she was?
Her father had already started tucking into his food, chewing with his mouth open as he skulled his wine and burped. The Whisperers may have been able to grant him a slimmer waistline and more hair, but they hadn’t seemed to have been able to do much for his manners.
“Tell your sisters we’d like to see them tomorrow. Your mother will be well enough to join us for dinner again.”
“If they’re well enough, I’m sure they’d love to see their father.” She wasn’t sure why she was bothering to remind this brutal man of who he was to them. Or why he cared if her sisters joined them or not.
“We would like them to join us.” He glared at her, before shoveling a few more mouthfuls of his meal into his mouth. “That’s an order not just from your father. It’s an order from your King.”
Then he pushed back his chair, leaving the room without a word.
“Nice to see you, Father,” she said, when the door closed behind him.
Perhaps tomorrow was the poisoning and he wanted to witness it first-hand and make sure he got all four of them at once? Why else would he insist on their presence like that? But it was going to be hard for him to poison her sisters when they’d be all the way over in Aria Flats by then.
She counted to ten to make sure her father had really gone and went to his end of the table, slid into his chair and pounced on his plate to eat his leftovers. There was no way anything on this plate would be poisoned.
The two Whisperers came into the room to clear the table. If they were surprised to find her in the King’s seat eating from his plate, they didn’t react. They stood to the side of the room and waited for her to finish. Thankfully her father hadn’t been very hungry today. She’d seen him put away a lot more food than this before.
She wiped her mouth on a napkin and looked up at the Whisperers, wondering how to phrase what she had to say. Gabrielle had been very clear just now about her instructions for this Whisperer.
The female Whisperer, a short woman with a large birthmark on her cheek, picked up Rose’s plate of untouched food, while the man went toward her plate.
“Freedom is coming,” Rose said, standing.
The male Whisperer glanced toward the female, clearly wanting to speak, yet unsure if he should.
“I need your help,” said Rose, deciding to be more direct.
He hesitated, then placed the plate back on the table and cleared his throat.
“What can I do, Princess?” he asked.
The female Whisperer’s eyes flew wide open, clearly unable to believe she’d heard him speak.
“I need to have you sent to the dungeon.” Rose winced as she waited for his reaction.
“Why?” His hands were shaking. “You said you wouldn’t tell.”
“I’m not going to tell,” she reassured him. “For that would mean losing your head, not being locked away.”
“Then what?”
“I’ll tell them you spoke to me. That should do it.” She nodded encouragingly.
“Why?” Sweat pooled on his brow.
“Because I need you to make way. Freedom is coming. It’s coming soon. Except it will only come if we clear the path for Jeremiah to be the Conductor. I need you to step aside.”
“Who’s Jeremiah?” he asked.
The female Whisperer had frozen with the plate in her hand, unable to believe what she was hearing. Yet she didn’t say a word. Rose doubted she would either.
“Jeremiah whispers on your right,” Rose said.
“He’s young,” said the man.
Rose nodded. “He is. And he’s going to save you. He’s going to save us all. You trusted me last night and you must trust me again now. Freedom is coming soon and when it does, you’ll be released from the dungeon. You have my word. I won’t let you perish down there.”
He looked at her, nodding slowly, seeming to understand, but not understanding at the same time. She couldn’t blame him. It was confusing. Although, one thing he did understand was that really, he didn’t have a choice. Rose could speak up about what had happened and he’d be put to death, or he could follow her plan and be sent away to the dungeon.
“I’m sorry,” she said, placing a hand on his forearm. He flinched at the contact. “I wish there was another way, but there isn’t. Please trust me.”
“How will you move the two who stand before Jeremiah?” he asked.
“I haven’t figured that out just yet,” she said. “But I’ll make sure it happens as soon as I can.”
He nodded, more decisively this time. “Okay. I trust you, Princess.”
“Guard!” she called, before he could change his mind. “Guard!”
Two guards burst into the room. “Yes, Princess.”
“This Whisperer just spoke to me. Take him to the dungeon immediately.” She tried to inject authority into her voice in the same way she had in the dungeon.
The guards took hold of the Whisperer’s arms and the plate he’d been holding clattered to the floor. The guards dragged him from the room. Despite agreeing to her plan, she noticed his feet resisting where he was being led, as if they had an opinion different to the one he’d formed in his head.
Rose wished she’d asked his name while she’d had the chance.
The female Whisperer was still frozen, holding the plate. She let a knife with a wooden handle fall to the floor and quickly picked it up with shaking hands.
“It’s okay,” said Rose. “I don’t mind noise. Please continue clearing.”
The Whisperer looked at Rose, holding her gaze in a way that was forbidden.
“I have a son,” she said, keeping her voice low as one hand brushed the birthmark on her face. “I must see him again.”
Rose went to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Freedom really is coming. I won’t just be saving that man, I’ll be saving you too. As soon as I find a way for Jeremiah to be the Conductor, you’ll all be saved.”
“Thank you,” the Whisperer said. “Thank you.”
Despite not using the word promise, Rose knew that was exactly what she’d done again.
She was promising the world. Now she needed to deliver.
JEREMIAH
ONE
Jeremiah moved his mat up another position in the arena. There was only one Whisperer ahead of him now, a woman he called Eye Twitch for fairly self-explanatory reasons, although her eyes didn’t seem to twitch as much these days as they had when he’d first seen her. Nevertheless, he’d stuck with the name he originally gave her.
He wondered how he might get her to abandon her position in the arena, so he could take her place. He didn’t fancy killing anyone, having seen in Micah’s face what that act had done to her, when she’d accidentally poisoned Nose Bump in the dining hall. She’d been devastated. She still seemed to be. Knowing Micah, she’d never get over that. Her heart was too kind to live easily with having done something like that.
Perhaps he could ask Eye Twitch to step aside? Or was he better off getting rid of the new Conductor and have her take over? The King hadn’t seemed to like the last female Conductor so maybe he’d take care of things for them again. Although, he didn’t like the idea of sending anyone to a certain death.
It was an interesting dilemma—do you kill one person to save the lives of one thousand? Logic said yes. His heart said no. He could never do that to an innocent person. There had to be another way.
He lay down on his mat and stared up at the ceiling, listening to Eye Twitch breathe. Perhaps he could ask her very quietly if she’d mind stepping down and have herself sent to the dungeon? He quickly pushed that thought from his mind. Nobody would ever agree to being sent to the dungeon. Nobody. You’d have to be insane.
The new Conductor was pacing the arena, watching the Whisperers
as they rested. Nobody was prepared to act out this time. Not while Strong Man held the sword. Jeremiah had called him this when he’d first seen him in the shower. His chest was surprisingly rippled with muscles, despite the lack of exercise they got in the palace. He was frightening-looking and determined to prove his worth as the new Conductor. Within minutes of being handed the sword, he’d used it to pierce the heart of one of the newer Whisperers, announcing to the arena that he’d done so as punishment for the rebellion the day before. He was looking forward to punishing the next person who stepped out of line. And it appeared that the Whisperers believed him, for nobody was demonstrating the courage they’d displayed when the last Conductor had been in charge.
The Conductor reached the very rear of the arena and Jeremiah breathed a sigh, happy to have him so far away for a brief moment. It was such a long room that he could get away with almost anything at this distance if he dared. But did he?
He blinked as he heard something unusual. Footsteps. Light footsteps familiar of the Whisperers, except these footsteps were moving too quickly. Something wasn’t right. He looked up to see Birth Mark moving toward him with purposeful steps and an expression of terror on her face. She was clutching a knife with a wooden handle.
Instinctively he put his hands in front of his face, certain she must be about to kill him.
She got closer and crouched to the floor. Jeremiah shuffled back on his mat, only to realize he wasn’t her target. She was after Eye Twitch, who was still sleeping beside him.
Birth Mark’s hand darted out and with one quick movement, she sliced open Eye Twitch’s throat. It was so fast that Eye Twitch barely had a chance to react. She just opened her eyes and her hands flew to her throat as she let out a gurgle. Panic and confusion filled her eyes before the life drained from them.
Jeremiah looked up at Birth Mark to see if he was next, but she’d already gone.
Realizing something was going on, the Conductor came running to the front of the arena. By this time, blood was everywhere, pouring from Eye Twitch’s throat.
Jeremiah remained perfectly still, realizing he’d be the prime suspect, and knowing that any movement now would only implicate him further. He had no blood on him, no weapon in his possession. Hopefully, the Conductor would realize it would be impossible for him to have killed her. Although Conductors weren’t exactly known for handing out fair trials. Especially this one.
“Who did this?” bellowed the Conductor when he got close enough to see what had happened.
Jeremiah kept his eyes down, not looking up.
“Was it you?” The Conductor grabbed Jeremiah by the arm and pulled him to his feet.
Jeremiah held out his hands to show they were empty and kept his eyes on the floor.
“Search him,” the Conductor said to the guards.
Jeremiah felt hands all over him, probing him, checking for anything he might have concealed, while the Conductor lifted his mat to check the floor beneath.
Nothing.
“Who did this?” he bellowed again. Nobody replied. How could they when they weren’t allowed to speak or make eye contact? “When I find out who did this—and I will— there will be consequences! Severe consequences! Nobody takes a Whisperer’s life, except me. Do you understand? DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
Nobody answered. Nobody nodded. Nobody moved.
Jeremiah was thrown back to the floor and one of the guards landed a boot in his ribs.
He bit back a groan and curled himself into a ball, closing his eyes and pretending he was back in the Valley of the Blessed, his mother and father by his side and Micah playing on the floor beside him. If only he could go back to those days just one more time. If only he’d appreciated it when he’d been there. It had been his little piece of Evernow and he hadn’t even realized it at the time. He could only hope there was a much bigger Evernow waiting for him when this nightmare was over.
Why had Birth Mark done it? Was it a coincidence that her very action had helped Jeremiah with his plan? Had she somehow known what they were planning? But how could she possibly know that? Unless Micah or Rose had told her…
There was so much he didn’t understand. So much he never would.
One thing he did understand was that now he was first in line. If this Conductor was to meet an untimely end, then finally, freedom would really be coming. And coming soon.
The Conductor blew his whistle and several guards ran into the arena. They removed Eye Twitch’s body and a palace worker mopped up the mess she’d left behind.
Jeremiah wished he’d given her a nicer name than that. She hadn’t deserved what’d just happened. None of them did. It had been a brutal way to die, the only blessing that it was fast and she’d barely known what had happened to her. Did that make it better or worse? Was it better to know what it was that took your life and die with some understanding, or was it better for your life to be wiped out in an instant? This wasn’t a simple question and unfortunately, there was no simple answer, except to say that neither option was better.
Better would be to live a happy life until you were old and wrinkled and died in your sleep surrounded by people who loved you. Was that too much to ask? In this palace, it appeared that it was.
He stood and picked up his mat, moving it one more position to the left. The last position in the arena. There were no further places to the left that he could move after this. After this, the only way was to move forward. Forward into the Conductor’s role and forward into a new and hopefully better future.
MICAH
NONE
Micah wasn’t sure how’d they’d managed it, but they had. Somehow. Jeremiah was the next in line. The only person standing in his way of being the Conductor, was the Conductor himself.
The events that’d just taken place in the arena were shocking. One Whisperer had killed another. Sliced her throat so quickly and quietly that nobody knew who’d done it and how.
Jeremiah must surely know. It’d happened right next to him. Had he done it himself? When the Conductor had pulled him to his feet to accuse him, Micah had felt her heart stop for a few beats. It wasn’t him. She was certain of it. He wouldn’t be that careless or callous. Especially when he was so close to his goal. Or was it being that close, that’d made him reckless? No, not Jeremiah.
But then the Whisperer who slept in front of her, returned to her mat and sat down with a look of horror on her face as she trailed her fingers over the birthmark on her cheek, leaving a line of blood on her face.
Micah stretched out her leg and kicked her to get her attention, miming wiping her face when she looked at her. She didn’t want to see anyone else die today. And like it or not, this Whisperer had helped them out, even if what she’d done was beyond comprehension. The Whisperer nodded at Micah and used the sleeve of her robe to wipe the blood from her face, leaving the birthmark clear and clean once more.
How Micah longed to ask her why she’d done it. How had she known this was what was needed? Her act of violence surely couldn’t have been random.
Micah didn’t have long to think about this, for no sooner had they all recovered from the shock of what just happened as another shock was delivered.
A voice rang out across the arena. A female voice. A young voice, not unlike Micah’s when she’d been allowed to use it.
“Whisperers!” the voice called.
Micah twisted her head to look up at the balcony at the rear of the arena, not far above from where she sat.
It was Princess Rose, standing on the balcony addressing them all. She looked different to the last time Micah had seen her. Less defeated, more ready to defeat.
“Whisperers!” she called out again. “Some of you know me. I am Princess Rose, the King’s eldest child and heir to his throne.”
Micah looked around the arena to gauge the reaction of her fellow Whisperers. Their faces were all turned upward, staring at the Princess, with their mouths open. Except for the Conductor. His eyes were darting around in a panic. Was
this allowed? Was the Princess allowed to speak? This had never happened before.
“Despite being the heir,” she continued, “I’ll never be the ruler of this Kingdom. Because my father wants me dead, so his newborn son can be King in a long line of men who’ve ruled Forte Cadence.”
“Your Royal Highness, forgive me, but I must ask you to be quiet,” the Conductor called out, tapping his sword on the floor.
“I will not be quiet,” said the Princess. “Whisperers, I need your help. I wish to be your Queen, so I can set you free. I’m being kept here as a prisoner, just as much as you are. But together we can make change. I can’t kill my father, you know that. You yourselves have whispered for his protection. So, I have a plan and I’m asking you to trust me. Freedom is coming!”
A gasp swept through the arena at these words. The Princess was the key to the freedom they were waiting for.
“Save us, my Queen!” called out Micah, confident that the Conductor was too preoccupied to punish her right now.
“I need to see my son!” called the Whisperer with the birthmark, giving at least a small clue as to why she’d just taken a life in such a way.
Soon, more Whisperers were calling, begging the Princess to save them, calling her their Queen.
“Quiet!” bellowed the Conductor.
A hush fell across the room.
“Including you!” he said, lifting his sword and pointing it toward the balcony, his respect of earlier having vanished. “Or yours will be the next head that I take, Princess or not.”
The Whisperers gasped. Could the Conductor talk to the Princess like that?
“What do you need us to do, my Queen?” Micah called to the balcony.
“Kill him!” the Princess shouted, her eyes aflame, her hands gripping the balcony’s railing, turning her knuckles white. “Kill him and you’ll all be saved!”
The Whisperers froze, not expecting these words. The Conductor held his ground, doing his best to look fearsome instead of fearful.
The Kingdoms of Evernow Box Set Page 17
