by C. M. Hayden
Hewn from the tree was a throne of solid gold, and on it sat a man—or rather, a boy, as he was about the same age as Taro himself. He was dressed in long, white and red robes covered in gems. His hair was tied into a bun, and he looked more than a bit awkward in all the finery. On a silk-laden pedestal beside the throne was a crown of wired silver.
The rest of the chamber was packed with lords and courtiers. There were fourteen long wooden tables set in rows opposite the throne. The tables and benches were covered in gold-speckled willow leaves.
The chamber was filled with the soft roar of rushing water mixed with a sea of chatting courtiers, each elegantly dressed for the occasion. The women were in long, flowing dresses, and most of the men in brightly colored tunics.
Weapons were apparently not discouraged in court, as all the men seemed to be wearing swords on their hips. There didn’t seem to be much risk to the young emperor, however, as he was surrounded by his personal guards: large, imposing men clad in black armor from head to toe, each carrying a great sword on their hips, and long, sharp halberds in their right hands. They stood like stone statues before the golden throne, observing, but not otherwise moving.
“A bit young for an emperor, isn’t he?” Kurian asked.
The tall double doors to the throne room opened, and servants swarmed the tables, bringing in mountains of hot food. They filled the long tables with fish and fowl, roasted pork, bowls of fruit, plates of vegetables, and pitchers of beer. It was more food than the men and women assembled could ever possibly eat.
When the tables were settled, one of the Imperial Guards tapped his halberd on the marble floor, and the room quieted. Moments later, Dr. Halric entered, cutting through the middle of the room and approaching the throne. He passed the guards to stand beside Lethen, who stood and greeted him warmly.
For a long moment, Halric simply scanned around at the seated men and women. Eventually, he took the crown from its pedestal and spoke, his voice echoing through the wide room.
“The laws of gods and men are clear,” Halric said. There was something about the way he said this that sounded very threatening to Taro, almost like he was daring one of the lords to dispute it. “There is only one ruler of the Helian people. Only one, and as High Inquisitor, I proclaim him such.” He placed the crown on the boy’s head. “Lethen Rutharan. Blood of Sacrolesh the Divine. Lord of Aedris Enor, Protector of the Realm, Servant of the Old High Gods, Emperor of Helia and the Northern Territories. Let those who affirm it, offer their swords to you.”
One by one, the assembled Lords Paramount filed by their new emperor, each leaving their sword at the foot of the golden throne, then approached Lethen and gave him their blessing. As they passed, the boy stood to address them. He spoke slowly and methodically, as if he were reciting something he’d been practicing for days.
“T-The Shahl was a tyrant. A murderer. A despot. He abused his authority to benefit of himself and his f-f-family, and betrayed my house. He antagonized the Endrans to the point of war, betrayed our allies, and brought our people to ruin. I will not repeat his mistakes.”
The dozens of swords clanked as, one by one, they struck the stone.
“However,” Lethen continued, “I will not punish his sons and daughters for the crimes of their fathers. As my first imperial decree, I proclaim his children, his farseers, and his lords innocent of all crimes as long as they declare their allegiance to House Rutharan in perpetuity. To bleed for me, obey my commands, and defend my family’s imperium until Arkos is consumed by the Great Sea.”
When Taro saw Vexis stand from one of the long tables, he felt every muscle in his body clench. She stood so casually, with that same shit-eating smile on her face that she always wore.
Kurian grabbed him by the shoulder. “We can’t. Not now. Even if we managed to kill her, we’d be overrun.”
Taro knew he was right, and tried to calm himself. “It might be worth it.”
Vexis approached the throne and knelt ritualistically. “Your Grace.”
“Rise,” Lethen said, and ushered her to him.
“Lady Vexis Andurin has been instrumental in preventing a civil war. She’s supported me, guided me. Without her, the realm would be in chaos. In recognition, I appoint her as my Right Hand. Her words are my words. Her actions are my actions. Those who oppose her, oppose me.”
Vexis took a seat beside him.
“In the coming days, I will be visiting Endra Edûn to ask the Sun King’s forgiveness for the crimes of the Shahl. To open a dialogue, and calm the rising tensions between our people.”
From a distance, Taro could see a glint in Vexis’s eye. She leaned back, as smugly as ever. Taro couldn’t fathom how she’d made it into his good graces, but he knew this could only end in disaster.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Fight & Flight
“Kadia isn’t here,” Kurian said, tugging at Taro’s shoulder.
“What?” Taro asked as they crouched behind one of the tall, marble statues surrounding the throne.
“We need to go. If everyone is here, that means we’ll never get a better chance to get to Kadia’s chambers. Let’s move. Northern wing, third floor.”
Taro looked back at Vexis, wishing there was a way to get to her, but he knew Kurian was right.
The vast majority of guards were centralized in or around the throne room for the coronation. Because of this, Taro and Kurian were able to use the servants’ stairs to access the third floor. They were narrow, not wide enough for two people to stand abreast, and lacked the ornate decoration of the rest of the palace. They were simple, dull wooden frames over gray stone and rusted nails.
The ring of keys Taro took from the worker down in the kitchens proved invaluable. While it took a few tense minutes to figure out the proper ones to use, once he figured them out, they were able to move freely through the servants’ passages and into the third floor. The few guards stationed hardly gave them a glance, most offering only a slight nod as the boys hurried through.
After ten minutes of climbing stairs and shimmying through passageways, Kurian held a hand up as he listened closely at the air.
“What is it?” Taro asked, glancing around for guards.
“I think I hear her,” Kurian said, creeping forward and peering down the long hall.
“You’re sure?”
Kurian shrugged. “It sounds like her, but I haven’t heard her voice in four years. Let’s check it out.”
As they neared the end of the hall, Taro noted a door unlike the others. Rather, the door was the same, but surrounding the post and frame were tiny, intricate magistry runes that looked wholly out of place in Helia. They were in Ancient Deific, much older than the runic magistry taught in the Magisterium. Nevertheless, Taro was able to make out bits and pieces of what they did.
Taro removed the inscriber from his cloak and switched out the ink capsule with an aegerion ink. It was made from the stomach acids of a puffer fish, and was highly effective in dispelling enchantments. When Taro touched his inscriber to the runes, there was a flash of red.
“Shit,” Taro said, shaking his hand out. The pain didn’t last long.
“A lot of trouble just to keep people out,” Kurian said. “A simple lock would work.”
Taro ran his bare fingers along the frame of the door, careful not to touch the inscriptions. “I don’t think this is to keep people out,” he said. “It’s to keep her in.”
“Kadia?” Kurian asked. “She was a sweet, quiet girl. Not exactly a high-security prisoner.”
Taro didn’t know where to begin. “I didn’t know her before she lost her mind, but the first time I met her, she nearly killed me. It’s not just insanity. There’s something…inside her. I heard it speak. I felt it. It was like…it was a monster.”
At this, Kurian’s eyes seemed to search the gr
ound as if he were thinking. “Can you break it?” he asked after a pause. “Runic magistry isn’t my strong suit.”
“Mine either,” Taro said. “But I think I can get it, I just need a few minutes.”
It was tricky work. Each ward and ley was grouped into their own patterns, meaning that one dispelling rune wouldn’t do it. Taro had to painstakingly go through each group and sever the linking runes between them. Not knowing specifically which runes these were, he had to try every one until he got the desired reaction. One by one, he broke the runes, but about three-fourths of the way through the set, Kurian began to pace nervously.
“Uh, Taro,” he said, tapping his foot. “I don’t mean to bother you, but, from the sound of it, we’ve got a dozen imperial soldiers heading this way. They’re not walking, either. They’re running.”
Taro’s fingers slipped momentarily. “What?” he asked. “How could they…” Taro took a good look at some of the runes he was working on. “Shit.”
“Don’t tell me…”
Taro nodded. “These aren’t just here to contain the room. There are trip runes embedded into it. Vexis and Halric know we’re here, and what we’re doing.”
Taro went back to work, trying to go as fast as his fingers would allow.
“We’ve got thirty seconds before we’re overrun,” Kurian said.
“I need at least two minutes,” Taro shot back. “Hold them off.”
Kurian threw off the worker clothes they’d taken from the kitchens, and drew a sword from the sheath hidden under his robes. “Been a while since I fought with a sword.”
“Don’t use too much templar,” Taro cautioned. “You’re going to need to be strong enough to fly the three of us out of here.”
The footfalls of the imperial soldiers were soon impossible to miss. Fortunately, as they were at the end of the hall, they could only be attacked from one side.
The guards gave little warning to them. “Back away from the door,” the first one said. When his orders weren’t immediately met, he drew his sword. He and the other soldiers were imposing figures. Each wore steel pauldrons and helmets, with chain mail and gambeson underneath. Their swords were of the same variety as the imperial guards’ greatswords, huge and heavy.
“Oi there, friends,” Kurian said with a jaunty smile. “We were looking for the water closet, could you point us in the right direction?”
The soldier pointed his longsword at Taro. “Stop fiddlin’ with that, or I’ll cut you open from balls to brains.” He lunged forward, but Kurian blocked his path. The man swung hard at Kurian, but the dragon moved effortlessly from his reach.
The soldier swung twice, and both times Kurian either ducked or leaned back just out of his reach. The other men joined in, and sent a flurry of swords at Kurian.
Out of the corner of his eye, Taro saw the incredible sight play out. A dozen men, each swinging their swords, but each utterly unable to get anywhere near the dragon. Not only did he dodge them, he did it with grace. He jumped over one of the men, leaping straight over their head in a pole-vaulting motion. At the same time, he spun the man’s helmet around, causing him to clumsily thrash about.
“Anytime Taro,” Kurian shouted as he weaved in and out, then slashed at the back of one of the armored men.
Taro was on the last group of runes, his fingers moving in a blur. Finally, he finished and the glowing runes faded into dull, lightless brown ink. Taro pushed the door open, and shouted for Kurian to follow.
The soldiers were panting and sweating, and clearly frustrated that, despite their best efforts, they couldn’t hit Kurian. However, from the back of the hall, more men were arriving. Kurian must’ve realized he couldn’t keep the show up all day, though he’d been quite effective in stalling them.
Kurian backed away from the group, inching toward the door. “My friends, dancing with you has been fun, but I have to get going. If you’re ever in Castiana, look me up.” He balled his fist up, and patted himself hard on the chest. “Sorry, one second.”
The soldiers exchanged hesitant looks.
Kurian choked a bit, struck his chest once again, and looked up. When he looked at them, his eyes were bright like the sun, and his skin began to glow red from the inside out, like a hot furnace. Smoke seeped out from between his now sharpened teeth, and he flashed a sinister smile. His features suddenly became very dragon-like, his irises became slits, and there were scales under his eyes and around his jaw.
The red-hot glow in Kurian’s chest rose up through his throat, and he reared back, hurling a straight line of fire out like a cannon blast. The fire struck the men dead, incinerating them in their armor and causing flames to erupt from every corner of the hall. The statues melted, the carpet turned to dust, and the wall fixtures fell like dry, cracking leaves in a firestorm. The sudden rush of heat sent a gust of wind through the hall, and Taro was pushed back. Even from where he stood ten feet away, and in the opposite direction of the flames, he could feel the sweat on his skin turning to steam and smell his own hair burning slightly.
When the fire stopped, Kurian returned to normal, coughing hard.
Taro looked at the palace corridor in shock. Parts of scaffolding hung from the ceiling, and flames were licking up the sides of the walls.
Taro soon found his words. “That was our only way out,” he said.
Kurian shook his head. “We were never getting out that way. Come on, that fire won’t stop them forever.”
Taro and Kurian slipped inside the room, dead-bolting the door behind them.
The room inside was very dark, nearly pitch-black except for thin windows on the back end, each only two inches wide. They cast their light on the floor in long bars. The room looked as though it had once been elegantly decorated, but most of the fixtures had been removed. Now, there was just a bed in the corner, and an assortment of paper strewn about the floor between nibs of black wax pastels.
Most of the drawings were nonsensical; images of wings hastily scrawled onto the creamy paper, alongside eyes and claws in hideous combinations. Taro inched toward Kadia. She was looking much better than last he’d seen her. Her hair had grown back completely, long and blonde. Her clothing was whole. Her skin was healing. And, thankfully, her magistry cuffs were intact.
“Kadia?” Taro asked, moving toward her.
She looked up sharply, her eyes glancing back and forth manically. “Down to the wire, down to the skin, to the edge of the world, how does it end?”
Taro knelt beside her, moving as slowly and calmly as possible, despite the raging inferno just on the other side of the door.
“How are you, Kadia?” he asked gently.
“Fine, of course, fine, why even ask? Of course I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be? Dumb, dumb, dumb. Just dumb.”
“Do you remember me?” Taro asked.
Kadia glanced up, then nodded. “Oh yes, I remember. I showed you the truth. Doctor didn’t like that. Doctor was so mad. He hurt me, but I’m not supposed to tell you that. Vexy wouldn’t like it.”
“Dr. Halric hurt you?”
“He doesn’t like it when I take control. He wants to talk to the other one. The bad one.” She leaned in with a devious smile. “But I trick him sometimes, ‘cause I’m so clever, you see?”
Smoke seeped under the doorframe, and there was a great deal of shouting out in the hall.
“Taro,” Kurian said seriously.
At his voice, Kadia stood in awe and crawled toward him. Pulling herself up, she touched her fingers to his cheek, and ran her hands through his black hair. “K-Kurian?” she asked, her eyes like saucers.
Kurian smiled, but his expression was thick with grief. “Hi, Kadia. Long time no see.”
Kadia latched on to Kurian’s midsection, holding on tight. Some small part of her mind seemed to come to her. “You’re not supposed to
be here. Fenn’s going to be so mad.”
Kurian hugged her. “That’s nothing new, he’s always mad.”
Kadia’s laugh was like the sound of bells. “That’s true, he is.”
Kurian looked back at the door, then to Kadia. “Listen, I need you to hold on tight to me, okay? I’m going to fly us out of here.”
Kadia’s hands shook a bit, and her voice became slightly more erratic. “Oh, I don’t know. We’re up so high, we’re in the sky, I just don’t think the wind is with us here. You know? What if the east wind comes, then what?”
“I’ll protect us. Come with me and the doctor won’t bother you anymore,” Kurian said warmly.
Kadia’s eyes lit up. “You promise?”
“Promise.”
Kadia latched on to Kurian again, grabbing his clothing and holding tight. “Let’s go!” she said. “If we hurry, we can still make it to Syseril in time! Yes? It’s our turn to be magisters.”
Kurian patted her arm. “It is,” he said, peeking through the thin windows. “We need to get out of here.”
“I assume you’ve got a plan?” Taro asked dubiously.
“I never really have plans,” Kurian said, looking around the perimeter of the room, Kadia close by. “I just jump around and hope for the best. How big would you say this room is?”
Taro peered around. “Twelve by fifteen feet, I’d guess.”
“Not quite big enough,” Kurian said.
“Big enough for what?”
Kurian pulled away from Kadia, and set his forehead to hers. “Stand next to Taro for a hot second, okay?” He pointed to a spot in the corner. “Both of you, crouch there. I’ll try not to hit you.”
Taro did as he was told, though he wasn’t quite sure what Kurian was going to do. Kurian stood in the middle of the room, and his body began to change. Consumed by light, he grew and transformed into his full dragon form. However, the room was nowhere near big enough to accommodate his size. As he grew into it, the ceiling cracked and bits of stone fell. The walls turned in, and his tail threw the door outward and off its hinges. Taro and Kadia crouched in the corner safely, and soon Kurian was so large that the entire wall of the room was blown off the side of the building. The bright Helian sun streaked through the plumes of dust and smoke.
