Jedren nodded. “Then I will make it quick and as painless as I can. When you approach the gate, stop. Wait there if you can. If Yqtos comes, tell him… tell him I need to know why he wants the dark-eyed children dead. Tell him I won’t do what he asks anymore unless he explains. Got that?”
“You need to know why, and you won’t do what he asks anymore unless he explains.”
“Yes. Ready?”
The man’s tongue flicked over his dry lips, but he nodded.
Jedren reached out, cradling the man’s face in his large hands, broke his neck. The man went limp instantly.
Jedren waited, listening to the slight shufflings and wheezings of the men around him. How long had he himself spent in death before Yqtos had sent him back?
The man coughed, his back arching and seizing, and he pushed himself up. He looked around, blinking, staring at the walls, the ceiling, and Jedren.
“Well?”
“Yqtos says he doesn’t have to explain himself to you. Either do what you’ve said you’ll do, or don’t.”
Jedren glowered. “Thank you. Would you like anything else before you go?”
The man ran his hands over his arms. “I feel… better.” He looked around the dungeon wonderingly. “But… I’ve spent enough time here. I’d rather go on, now. Unless you plan to let me go.”
I can’t have anyone know I’m questioning my god. He’ll have his freedom anyway, one way is just as good as another.
He broke the man’s neck again, and this time the man lay still.
He moved to the next cell. This man was more alert, sitting up and shaking as he eyed Jedren.
“I would like—”
“Painless death is my best offer. I don’t have time for demands,” Jedren cut him off. “Take it or leave it.”
“All right.”
“Tell Yqtos I’ve been a good servant. I’ve done everything he’s asked, but now my daughter has dark eyes. I won’t hurt her without good reason. There must be something we can figure out. I’ve conquered all of Mimros, destroyed every temple, killed a score of children in his name.”
The man was back almost instantly this time.
“He says there is a plot, by the children of Numenos, the lesser gods and goddesses, to destroy the world. To destroy everything that he and Numenos created together. He says that Numenos did not leave but was imprisoned by their children. Because they wished to be the most powerful. They resented their mother. They hadn’t been able to touch him, though, not in his realm. He is attempting to diminish their power in the world, in order to rescue Numenos.”
Everyone knew that Numenos was gone. Had she really left? Or had she been imprisoned by her children? It seemed incredible, but Jedren could understand the desire for power. The more he had of it himself, the more he wanted.
The next man was barely breathing, but he was able to repeat back Jedren’s message well enough.
“How do the black-eyed children come into this? What have they ever done?”
“My gates erase the memories of those passing through it. Even gods who pass through will lose their memories. The monks have broken one of my gates. If they are not stopped, they will loose the enemies of Numenos back into the world, give them back their powers. That is all I will say. I cannot fix the gate, but I can stop them using it. That better be enough for you, because it’s all I’m saying. If you go back on our agreement, I will find someone else.”
Jedren sent the last man back without a message and sat there contemplating for a long time. He wished there was some way, any way, for him to find out how much of this was true. It made a certain amount of sense, and he could believe that Yqtos would be doing all this to try to save Numenos.
He stood. He would consult Kallia. They were in this together now, fully. She would pray, and perhaps she would get an answer that made sense.
56
Jedren
Kallia emerged from three days of prayer looking troubled.
“The gods still don’t answer.”
They lay together in Jedren’s large bed, on their sides, facing one another. Kallia’s hands were pillowed under her head, her dark hair spilling around her. Jedren propped himself up on one elbow and brushed a lock of hair off her face.
“I can’t imagine hurting our daughter.”
Kallia blanched.
He went on. “Although. She isn’t our daughter anymore, clearly. She’s something else.”
Reluctantly, Kallia nodded. She pulled one hand from under her head and chewed her thumbnail.
“All we have is Yqtos’ word that he is trying to save Numenos.”
“What other reason could he have?” He looked at her.
She shrugged one bare shoulder. “I don’t pretend to know what drives the gods.”
“We know the stories. Numenos left to protect the world, because she loved Yqtos too much. If they were reunited the world would be destroyed. But, what if that’s not true? What if her children made that up? What if they imprisoned her, and Yqtos only escaped because he’s in the underworld, where they have no power? And now he is… doing something with those gates to stop them so he can rescue her?”
Her eyes went glassy as she continued her nail-chewing. “I suppose that’s possible.”
“And have we ever heard anything from a single one of the other gods?”
“No.”
“And what other reason could Yqtos have?” Jedren said again.
Deep down, Jedren knew what he wanted the answer to be. He wanted Yqtos to have good intentions. He wanted the choices he had made, the awful things he had done, to be in service of rescuing the divine mother. And above all, he wanted to be here, exactly here. In this bed with Kallia. And nowhere else.
“She isn’t our daughter anymore,” he said again softly. After several long moments, Kallia nodded.
57
Lilianna
Lilianna slid her right foot into her shoe, then her left. Something felt off, loose, but she shook it off. She was just nervous. Next to her, Paric was complaining as Gird readjusted the tiny, poisoned barb in his shirtsleeve.
“It’s fine, Gird, lay off.”
Gird huffed and gave the sleeve another tug. “One slip and you’re dead, you realize that, don’t you?”
Paric muttered something under his breath, but Lilianna wasn’t listening anymore. She glanced again at the door to their apartment. Closed. Where is Coralie? Her stomach fluttered. It’s fine. She’s not coming. It doesn’t matter.
Lilianna tugged at her tunic, taking a deep breath as she readjusted the large buckle on her shoulder. It was a gold disk Aron had given her a few weeks before, plain but with the image of Numenos carved into the back.
“For luck,” he’d said, smiling at her.
She’d shrugged. It was a good buckle, functional. It fit the requirements for today. She glanced at the door again. It doesn’t matter.
Her stomach bubbled with nervousness. Am I being an idiot? Are we going to our deaths? She gritted her teeth. It didn’t matter. If she was going to her death, so be it. She wasn’t standing by again. I’m doing this, Coralie. I don’t care what you think. Except she did. If Coralie thought this was a bad idea… She couldn’t finish the thought. Lilianna had never known Coralie to be wrong about anything.
It doesn’t matter. I’m doing this.
She glanced at the door.
Coralie paced back and forth along the waterfront. She glanced at the sky, then out towards the edges of the harbor. The wind was blowing, sending clouds scudding across the sky. Their shadows moved over the island, plunging it into darkness and then back into light repeatedly. Many boats had entered the harbor that day, but not even one had left. Even though his daughter had been returned to him, Jedren still had not reopened the harbor. He’d made an exception for those boats entering for the festival.
Any minute, Lilianna, Gird, and Paric would appear, prowling through these lines of ships. She’d heard them talking, she knew what they were plan
ning. She stuffed her hands in her pockets. This was a terrible plan. It wasn’t going to work. And try as she might she couldn’t think of a way to make it work. It was too much. Jedren had all the resources, all the power. They’d had Aron, but now he was gone, too. Stuck in Jedren’s dungeons somewhere.
A gull wheeled overhead, and Coralie stared up at it, watched it poop on a nearby sailor, who swore at it, wiping disgustedly at his head. That was exactly how she felt. She’d made every decision so carefully, tried her best to plan. She’d been working nonstop trying to earn a living, to absolutely no avail. And Lilianna, the person who mattered most to her in the world, wasn’t even speaking with her anymore.
As Coralie stared at the sailor, now scrubbing at his hair with a rag, she wondered if she would ever see Lilianna again. If she didn’t convince her not to go today, it was likely she would be executed.
Something clicked in her mind. What am I doing?
She pulled her hands out of her pockets and began walking up the quay.
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. No, Lilianna didn’t love her, didn’t see her as anything more than a friend, but that didn’t matter. She was still everything to Coralie. I’ve been looking at this all wrong. It was so obvious. That first night, when Lilianna had told her she was leaving, she’d known the truth right then. That she loved Lilianna, would always love her, that no matter where Lilianna went, that was where she wanted to be. Whatever Lilianna did, that was what she wanted to do, too. The very fact that Lilianna would think of something so ridiculous, so bold, so over the top as this, was one of the things Coralie loved the most about her. And what was Coralie doing? Sitting around whining and avoiding her, just because she didn’t love her back, just because she didn’t feel the same. Her grandmother’s words returned to her, advice from so long ago.
“Don’t make decisions based on what you think you will get out of something, Coralie. Make decisions from your heart, from your values, from what you think is right. Do that, and… well, you may not always get what you want, but at least you’ll be able to live with yourself.”
Coralie shook her head, picking up the pace.
Out of breath, she arrived at the door to their new safe house, the secret one Aron had set up for them. Taking a deep breath, she pulled open the door.
The lights were off. No one was there. They’d already left.
Lilianna felt her knees start to shake as they reached the docks. She took a deep breath. It’s going to be fine. It wasn’t. Gods what’s the point of this? I should just go eat a bunch of cake. It must be bad if she was talking to imaginary beings. Just because other people talked to the gods didn’t mean it was OK. She clenched her fists. Paric glanced over at her.
“Cold feet?”
“No.”
“You don’t need to come.”
“I’m coming.”
“We are all coming,” Gird said from his other side. “Yes, you could perform this act alone, but we are there in case anything… untoward… should occur.”
“Hopefully something untoward does occur,” Paric grunted.
Lilianna briefly wondered what death would feel like, then cursed herself. The image of herself, standing over her father, too afraid to move, came to mind, and her nerves settled. She wasn’t going to do that again. She’d lost that chance; she wasn’t losing this one.
Paric turned around, feigning nonchalance. Lilianna, jolted out of her imaginings, heard the running footsteps, and turned, too, but it wasn’t Jedren or any of his guards. It was Coralie, in a simple grey dress, her light brown hair streaming out behind her, a determined look on her face.
Joy and relief warred with dread in Lilianna’s mind. She was glad to see Coralie one last time, but she wasn’t sure she could take the speech Coralie was sure to give her. She wasn’t sure that, if Coralie stood there in front of her and told her she was being an idiot and she should stop, she could go on with the plan. She wanted to think better of herself, wanted to think that she wouldn’t care, that she would go on with what she’d planned, but in that moment, seeing Coralie running towards her, she knew that she would stop. She would leave, give up, whatever it took for Coralie to think well of her again.
Coralie skidded to a stop in front of her. She didn’t even glance at Gird or Paric.
Her eyes locked on Lilianna’s as she took a few gasping breaths.
“Sorry… I… missed you.” She straightened. “I’m sorry, Lilianna. I’m so sorry. I was being stupid. Not about your plan, I think it’s… ambitious… but… that’s what I love about you.” She swallowed, and Lilianna saw the terror flicker through Coralie’s eyes. “Whatever you’re doing, I want to help.”
Lilianna’s stomach turned over. What she saw in Coralie’s face was so much more than what had been in her words. She loved her. Suddenly, all Lilianna’s nerves dropped away. Coralie, perfect, thoughtful, wise Coralie, believed in her. Loved her. Suddenly, she knew they were going to succeed. She just knew.
And she knew something else, too.
A quick grin spread across her face, and in two steps she closed the distance between them. She wrapped her arms around Coralie, pulling her into a tight hug. She closed her eyes tight, leaning her head against the side of Coralie’s head. Then she pulled away, looking her full in the face, and she kissed her.
Then she pulled back, blushing, suddenly uncertain. But Coralie reached up, touched her cheek, and pulled her back. For several long seconds, they forgot about everything.
Gird cleared his throat loudly.
Laughing, Lilianna pulled away, her hand found Coralie’s. She looked over and saw Coralie grinning madly, blushing. She met her eye and then glanced away again.
“So, what’s the plan?” Coralie asked.
58
Coralie
Heady excitement swirled through Coralie, and she stopped on a sudden impulse. “Wait, hang on—let’s stop here for a second.” Lilianna’s hand was warm and strong in hers, and she’d never felt more sure, more invincible in her life.
Lilianna raised her eyebrows. “Uh, why?”
Paric pulled up short and stared at Coralie. “That’s a bakery.”
“Right.”
“They don’t sell weapons.”
“We have enough weapons,” Lilianna said.
“Then why does she want to stop?” Paric asked.
Coralie bit her lip. “Look, I just… I don’t know, maybe we should try talking to them first. See if we can convince them.”
“With baked goods?”
“Those can be very convincing.”
“Not as convincing as weapons.”
They both turned to look at Lilianna.
“I like it.”
Paric groaned. He crossed his arms. “Fine, just hurry up about it.”
Coralie ducked into the shop, bought a basket of biscuits, and they hurried on their way down to the harbor.
Security was heavy, but the soldiers were busy checking over a large craft that had just put into port. No one noticed as they made their way to the far end of the quay, where a large, bedraggled boat was moored.
“This one,” Paric said, nodding. “They don’t look wealthy enough to have hired much of a guard.”
He glanced around, then hopped over the gunwale onto the deck and sped down the main staircase into the hold. Coralie, Lilianna, and Gird jogged after him.
The boat was smaller than Aron’s, and the hold was only one large room, with supplies stacked at one end and a galley kitchen at the other. A group of people stood around a wooden table in the center. They were all holding hands, saying a prayer, but their eyes shot open and the blood drained from their faces as they saw the intruders.
“Go for it,” Lilianna said. Coralie’s heart skipped a beat.
Coralie bustled forward, pushing her way in front of Paric and holding out the baked goods.
“Hello,” she said. “We are so sorry to intrude, but we need to ask you a favor.” She paused for breath, and the man at
the head of the table laid his hand on his sword hilt.
“We’re not interested in whatever you’re selling,” he said.
“We’re not selling anything,” Corlalie said. She set the basket on the table. “Here. These are for you.” The delicious smell of pastry wafted up and a few eyes went to the biscuits. “We don’t know you at all, but you must be here to surrender to Jedren, right?”
“Yes.”
“And you know he’s going to tax you. Fifty percent of everything you can produce.”
The man nodded again.
“Now,” Coralie continued. “We don’t want any trouble, either. We don’t want to bother you. We just want to get into Jedren’s festival today. As penitants. And to do that we need your papers. Your invitation. And your identification.”
“What are you going to do once you’re inside?”
“Well, just in case we’ve picked the wrong boat, we’d rather not say,” Coralie said. “I’m sure you understand.”
The man stroked his beard thoughtfully, and his eyes went to those of his companions. A silent conversation passed between them.
The man took a biscuit, bit into it, and chewed thoughtfully. “These aren’t bad,” he said. Coralie felt Paric shift his weight behind her, and she held up a warning hand.
“Are you going to surrender to Jedren in our place?” he asked at last, putting the biscuit down half finished.
“If we fail in what we are trying to do, then we will surrender in your place,” Coralie promised.
“Except if what you’re planning goes quite badly, I’m assuming,” he said.
“I… yes, I suppose so,” Coralie said.
The man glanced around at his companions again, nodded as if convincing himself of something. “I won’t endanger my people for whatever you have planned. Regardless of how… needed I believe it is. I have invitations for five. I’m coming with you.”
Death of the Immortal King Page 30
