The Ruin of Kings (A Chorus of Dragons)

by Jenn Lyons

  Why would anyone think this was the Emperor of Quur?

  My mouth felt very dry.

  I walked over to their table and pulled up a chair.

  Tyentso nodded to me, although her focus remained on the tumblers. “I’d make introductions, but—”

  “We’ve met,” Emperor Sandus said. “Although it’s been a few years. Tyentso’s been explaining the situation to me.” He didn’t look happy, but then I suppose I couldn’t blame him.

  If I’d just found out that my mortal enemy had been claiming my son as his for all these years, I probably wouldn’t be happy either.

  I looked down at the table. If one was paying close attention to the tumblers, or rather to the liquid inside the tumblers, they might notice that the images reflected against their surfaces did not correspond with the interior of the bar. I’m sure most people just thought Ty was playing an insanely intoxicating drinking game. What she was really doing was monitoring the City for the sort of changes that would indicate a Hellmarch starting. She’d sworn she could do it; something about how demons absorbed heat affecting the ambient temperature in a way that could be followed, like changing weather patterns.

  “That’s good,” I said. “I assume that means you’ll help?” I saw the look he gave me. “Yes, you’re right. That was a stupid question. If you’ll come with Teraeth and me—”

  Emperor Sandus smiled tightly. “Under an illusion or invisibility or some other method, I assume. I have what may be a better idea, if you’re amenable.”

  I held out my hands and tried not to show how nervous he was making me. “Of course.”

  He set down three rings on the table. “Each of you takes one of these. They’re enchanted. Focus on them and you’ll be able to communicate with me directly. That way there is no chance that someone will notice me too early and do something rash. I guarantee that both Gadrith and Darzin know exactly what I look like. Sadly, I’ve never met…” His mouth tightened. “… Thurvishar.”

  My hand shook as I picked up one of the rings.

  You see, it was set with an intaglio-carved ruby.

  I was aware that Tyentso made pleased noises, because communication had, after all, been one of the weak spots in our original plan. In the bar, people still drank and laughed and argued as prelude to duels. They clinked glasses and made toasts and threw insults at each other in varying degrees of venom. It all sounded muted, underwater, unimportant.

  I thought about the vané whom Gadrith and Darzin had tortured and murdered, who had owned such a ring. I thought about my father Surdyeh, who owned such a ring. I thought about Caerowan, who had stolen Valathea from me, and owned such a ring.

  I met Sandus’s eyes. “When we’re done here,” I said, “you and I are going to have a very long talk, Your Majesty.”

  He smiled sadly. “Yes. I imagine we will.”

  I picked up a second ring for Teraeth and left without another word.

  So far everything had gone perfectly to plan.

  Now came the hard part: going home.

  * * *

  Lady Miya flew down the marble steps and into my arms. “Kihrin!”

  She hid her face in the cloth of my agolé, muffling the sound of her crying. I smoothed her hair and touched her cheek.

  The crying stopped with a shocked sob and my mother pulled aside the cloth of my misha, to look at the star tear diamond necklace I wore underneath.

  “It’s a long story,” I said. “I promise I’ll explain later.”

  My mother tore her gaze from the necklace to focus on me. “Where have you been? We received a message you were safe, but we couldn’t be sure of its provenance.”

  “I know,” I agreed. “I hope it was some comfort, and I’m sorry I wasn’t able to return sooner. I think we should go inside, don’t you?” I looked up the steps of the First Court to see Therin standing there, watching me with an unreadable expression.

  “Grandfather,” I lied, nodding my head at my father.

  “Kihrin.” Therin nodded back. His voice sounded tight. “I expected them to bring you back in pieces.”

  “Me too,” I said with a mocking grin. “But it’s nice to see your confidence in me hasn’t changed since I left.” I walked past Therin, my arm still wrapped around my mother.

  Therin’s face flashed over with suppressed anger. “Were you kidnapped or did you run away?”

  “I would have run away,” I admitted. “I won’t deny I was planning to, but the former happened before I could get around to the latter.”

  I could tell there were questions my father wanted to ask. I could see it in Therin’s scowl and the sharpness of his blue eyes. I also saw that, as angry as Therin was, it was self-directed.

  That didn’t mean I forgave him.

  “Come to my office,” the High Lord ordered. “I’ll talk to you in private. Once word spreads you’re back, it will be nothing but celebrations and parties for the next week.”

  “Therin,” Darzin said, entering the courtyard. “Kalovis said you were waiting for someone and I…” His eyes locked onto me like shackles.

  “Good evening, Darzin,” I said. The smile was genuine enough, if only because I was very much looking forward to how I hoped the rest of the evening would go.

  Well enough.

  For a full two seconds, Darzin’s face was a frozen study in surprise. Then he broke into a full grin. “Why, you son of a bitch!” he said. “I just knew I’d see you again.” He actually seemed happy, which made a certain amount of twisted sense. With me back, plans could proceed, couldn’t they?

  Darzin stepped toward me as if to hug me in sheer exuberance. I stepped back nonchalantly, falling just outside Darzin’s reach.

  That smile faded in the onslaught of my cold, unreceptive stare. “Careful there, son. Keep up that expression and I’ll think you don’t love me anymore.”

  “Anymore? That would imply I did once. Why would I start now?” I placed my hand on my sword hilt.

  Darzin noticed the movement. “I bet you still don’t have a clue how to use one.”

  I locked my eyes with his. “I’ll take that bet.”

  The smug grin on Darzin’s face softened. The hatred in his eyes was naked and brutal as we stared at each other. After four years, it hadn’t subsided in the slightest. The Stone of Shackles chilled my neck.

  I moved first.

  Arguably, I moved fastest, but killing Darzin was not the goal.

  Also, I’d forgotten about Lady Miya.

  Even as I drew my sword and attacked my brother, even as he drew his sword and responded, a great wall of air rose up between us, driving us both back. My sword was snatched from my hands and clattered against the marble floor. His sword flew to the side and embedded itself into a wall.

  Lady Miya lowered her hand. “If you are going to fight, you would be best served to do so when I am absent.”

  I laughed. The gaesh. Of course. All manner of violence might be committed by one D’Mon against another in private, but if she was present, Miya was obligated to intervene.

  And here I’d worried I wouldn’t be able to drive him off believably.

  Darzin paced, sneering. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I must admit, I didn’t think you had the stones to actually attack me. Lucky for you, Miya’s here to protect you.”

  “She wasn’t protecting me. Why don’t we send her away so we can finish this conversation properly?”

  “Enough, from both of you,” Therin said. “I will not have you dueling in my House.”

  Darzin never broke his stare with me. “It hasn’t been your House for a few years, old man.” He walked over to where his sword still quivered, embedded in the wall, and rescued it.

  I realized Darzin was leaving. I wanted him to but I also had to make sure that Teraeth was in position. Since I couldn’t see Teraeth, I thought buying a little time would always be in good taste.

  “Running so soon, big brother?”

  That made him pause. �
��Big brother?” Darzin looked surprised. “Our father actually told you the truth? I’m amazed he had the spine.”

  “I figured things out.” I held out my hand and my own sword sailed back into my grasp. Darzin saw the visible demonstration of spell use and frowned, probably not liking the idea that I’d picked up some magical training. “I figured out that you’re nothing but an over-preening fool, who isn’t smart enough to be more than a necromancer’s lackey. Tell me, what has Gadrith promised you? That you’ll be the head of House D’Mon? Head of the Council? Or are you just doing this because you know how much it will upset our father?”

  He actually started to answer. Then Darzin smiled. “Better watch your baby boy, Therin. He seems to have lost his mind.”

  “No. Stop him!” I tried to make it sound good, as much as I could.

  Darzin ran back into the palace.

  Therin made no move to chase. “What is going on here? Kihrin, you have a lot of explaining to do.”

  I ignored him.

  Now we just had to hope that Darzin was stupid enough to go running straight to Gadrith.

  Because as soon as he did that, it was all over.

  * * *

  Darzin’s astonished question about Therin telling me the truth hovered in the air between us. My father ignored it. He didn’t ask what either Darzin or I had meant. He didn’t try to protest that we weren’t brothers.

  Because he knew that was a lie.

  “What exactly is going on?” Therin demanded.

  “I don’t suppose I could convince you to release Lady Miya from her gaesh?” I saw the look on Therin’s face and waved a hand. “Never mind. We don’t have much time now. Probably not more than a half hour. Darzin’s off to warn Gadrith I’m back. I honestly do not know what Gadrith will do when he finds out, but we’re going to be ready for him.”

  “Gadrith’s dead,” Miya said, but she didn’t say it with much conviction.

  “He’s not.” I pulled back the collar of my misha, revealing both the Stone of Shackles and the necklace of star tear diamonds. Lady Miya already knew about the latter, but my father hadn’t yet seen them.

  He flinched. “Where—?”

  “You remember where these star tears ended up after you bought Miya with them, don’t you? With a certain old vané hag who just happens to be a High Priestess of Thaena?” I let the collar of my misha fall forward again. “Take my word for it that I know for a fact that Gadrith didn’t travel past the Second Veil. He found a way to fool you and Thaena both.”

  Therin stared. After a moment, he seemed to shake off the paralysis that had seized him. “I will talk to you in private. Now.”

  “No,” I said. “We don’t have time. I just pushed Darzin to do something rash and a mimic has infiltrated this household. I need to find her before he returns.”

  “A mimic?” Whatever news Therin had expected from me, that wasn’t it.

  I turned to Lady Miya. “Lyrilyn was murdered by a mimic while she was wearing the Stone of Shackles. Your former handmaiden never left the house, but she did switch allegiance. She works for Darzin now.”

  I was dumping a lot of information in their laps at once, but I couldn’t give my father a chance to demand that I provide proof. I needed them acting first. The proof would come soon enough.

  “Oh, that poor girl,” Lady Miya said.

  Therin looked like he’d been slapped. No matter how good Therin’s information networks had been, I’d just told him that Darzin’s were much better and why.

  “Is there anyone who’s been acting oddly? Inconsistent?”

  “A mimic isn’t going to reveal themselves so easily,” Therin said. “The mimic could be anyone.” He gave me a thoughtful stare.

  “That paranoia’s coming just a little late. Please try to remember that I’m the one who just warned you about the mimic.”

  “No, it is not you,” Lady Miya said. “And it is not just anyone, either. Ola. It has to be Ola.”

  I startled. “What? Ola’s here?”

  “Yes,” Therin said. “We captured her. I was so angry when you first disappeared that I would have let Darzin kill her. However, Lady Miya said you would never forgive me—if you ever made your way back to us—if I allowed the woman who’d raised you to be executed. So she’s our ‘guest.’”

  “That’s the mimic,” I agreed. “Where is she?”

  “Your rooms,” Lady Miya said.

  Therin scowled. “We still can’t be sure she’s the mimic.”

  I sighed. “Yes, we can, because Ola’s dead. Ola Nathera is in the Land of Peace. I heard that straight from Thaena’s mouth. Which means the Ola you know is the counterfeit.” I felt under my agolé for yet another letter tucked away. “Lady Miya, please go find Aunt Tishar. This is for her. It explains what’s going on and what I need her to do.”

  She took the letter and left.

  “Kihrin, I need to know—”

  “You need to do what I say for once,” I said, turning on him. “Evacuate the palace. The one thing I have not been able to plan for is exactly what Gadrith will do once he realizes I’m back, and wizard duels are messy. Get everyone out.”

  “Think, Kihrin. Where could Gadrith D’Lorus have been hiding for all these years?”

  I raised an eyebrow at my father. “There’s a whole guild of wizards dedicated to the craft of opening gates between distant lands. I don’t know why everyone thinks hiding would be so difficult.”

  I started to walk off.

  “Did Khaemezra tell you? I mean, about—” Therin choked on whatever he’d been about to ask.

  I stopped.“Which part? About you being my father?”

  He stared at me with haunted eyes. “No,” he said. “No, absolutely not. Darzin’s your father.”

  I scoffed. “That’s not true and you know it.”

  “It IS true. It is true and you will not contest it.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Would you like me to tell you how I know you’re lying? I mean, the ways are nearly endless, but let’s start with the fact that I know you’re lying because I know Miya is my mother. And Miya’s hatred of Darzin isn’t personal. She hates him on principle, she hates what he does to people around him, but she doesn’t hate him in the way she would if he’d forced himself upon her. And frankly, if he had done that, you’d have murdered him—son or not. But her feelings about you—” I pointed at him. “—are more complicated. And you have her gaesh, so it’s not like she could refuse your smallest whim. So, settle a curiosity for me: it was rape, wasn’t it?”

  Therin hit me.

  For a second neither of us moved. I felt the sting where his signet ring cut my lip. Therin wouldn’t look at me.

  Again, I started to walk away.

  “Where are you going?” my father asked.

  “The others are doing their parts. Me? I have a mimic to kill.”

  * * *

  Honestly, I still don’t know where it went wrong.

  A thousand times since I’ve replayed how it went, how it could have gone if I’d been a little wiser or if this had all just been practice under Chainbreaker’s spell. If I’d asked a servant to deliver the letter to Tishar while Miya had stayed. If I hadn’t argued with Therin and so he’d come with me to confront you. If Tyentso had come with us instead of staying at the Culling Fields to monitor for a possible Hellmarch. If I had insisted on Emperor Sandus coming with me personally instead of waiting for a signal on his damn magic ring.

  In any event, none of that happened.

  I went to Ola’s room alone.

  76: BETRAYAL

  (Talon’s story)

  Bear with me, love. We’re almost finished, Kihrin. At least, as finished as my story can be.

  * * *

  Escaping from the Blue Palace proved to be distressingly easy.

  Now that Kihrin understood his skill at stealth had a magical source, he used it to shelter Galen and himself as they snuck their way out of the Upper Circle. They wouldn’t have
been able to escape without it: with Alshena murdered, the High Lord had locked tight the entire palace for mourning.

  “Where are we going?” Galen whispered.

  “The Standing Keg. It’s a pub in the Copper Quarter,” Kihrin told him. They had left wearing sallí cloaks and brown kef, and nothing on them anywhere that was blue. They’d left any traceable valuables behind too, stopping only long enough for Kihrin to collect his promissory notes from the Temple of Tavris before heading down to the Copper Quarter.

  Kihrin didn’t need House D’Mon. He had enough savings for him to live on comfortably for the rest of his life. Enough for Galen and Kihrin both.

  The Standing Keg was all but empty as customers instead lingered in the New Year’s Festival stalls and wine gardens. And Kihrin gave no sign he recognized the aging Zheriaso woman tending drinks as Ola. He and Galen claimed a table, and he allowed himself to relax just a little. Step one was complete.

  “Who are we waiting for?” Galen asked.

  “You’ll see—” Kihrin’s words cut off as the door opened, and Thurvishar stepped through, accompanied by his slave, Talea.

  Kihrin waved them over.

  Thurvishar’s presence was noticed; he wasn’t a man easy to overlook. He towered over the two boys before he pulled out a chair to sit.

  “This is irregular,” Thurvishar told them. “But I admit I am intrigued. My condolences on your mother.” He said this last to Galen.

  “Thank you,” Galen said, his voice wooden.

  “It’s simple enough,” Kihrin said. “I have a business proposition for you.” Then he paused as the old dark-skinned Zheriaso waitress approached. Kihrin pretended not to recognize Ola and waved her over. “Oh, uh, I suppose we should order something.” He looked at Thurvishar.

  The bald man raised an eyebrow. He cast his eyes around the bar as if a place like this couldn’t possibly have anything to offer a palate as refined as his. “What is your best then?”

  “Kirpis grape wine, my lord, from the vineyard at Rainbow Lake,” Ola told him. “It’s fresh. This year’s stock.”