The Empty Crown

by Georgina Makalani

  ‘How often?’ the regent asked, frustration clear in his voice.

  ‘Excuse me?’ one of the tutors asked.

  ‘How often have you left him alone when he required it?’

  ‘Two or three times a year.’

  ‘So often?’

  ‘Almost every year since his father’s death.’

  ‘And yet you didn’t think I might need to know this, that I might not care for him or be able to assist him?’

  They glanced nervously between themselves, and one near the middle nudged another.

  ‘He was just a boy,’ he blurted.

  The regent stood slowly from the throne, and the tutors all stepped back as one.

  ‘So it would seem,’ he said slowly. ‘A boy who does not understand the requirements of a king.’

  The girl sucked in a breath, and the regent looked disappointed. ‘Send for the guard,’ he snapped, waving his hand towards the door. They moved quickly from the room.

  Salima tried not to stare. What was he hoping to achieve?

  ‘Tell me,’ he said, sitting back as the guard entered the room.

  ‘There are no horses missing. No one else appears to have disappeared from the capital. He hardly spent time with anyone outside of his tutors and training. They haven’t seen him, nor have any guesses as to where he might be hiding or where he might have gone.’

  ‘Are we sure he isn’t in the castle?’

  The man bowed low.

  ‘How did he get out of the castle?’

  ‘I am trying to find out, Your Highness.’

  ‘If he can slip though unnoticed, I wonder who might be able to just walk right in.’

  ‘I assure you…’

  ‘Save it,’ the regent snapped with an impatient wave of his hand. ‘I’m not sure I trust any of your assurances. I want you to find him. And then I want you to find out how he walked away and who he might be with.’

  ‘No one went with him.’

  ‘Then he went to find someone else. Who might he trust enough to run to?’

  The man shook his head just a little.

  ‘Does no one know their own king?’ the regent asked, his frustration overflowing. ‘Does no one understand this boy?’

  ‘He hasn’t allowed anyone close enough, Your Highness.’

  ‘Not even me,’ the regent murmured. Although Salima was confident the man didn’t want to know Ed in any way. And she wondered what he might do when he found him. She squeezed her hands into tight fists, only wishing she had some way of finding him first. As hot frustration washed over her, she wondered again why he hadn’t shared his plans with her in the first place.

  Chapter 23

  Ana leaned back against the cold stone and wondered for a moment just where she was. She hadn’t seen anything or anyone else in the darkness, but perhaps the mage had found her. She had curled up, closing her eyes against it and willing it away.

  When she had woken, she was cold and stiff, and the beautiful golden stone of the castle had been replaced with the cold grey she knew of Sheer Rock. She rested her head back and sighed. She wasn’t in Sheer Rock, as much as she had hoped she was. Shivering, Ana hugged her arms closer, longing for Ende’s cloak. Above her was a high-set window, far too high to reach or see through, and the light was weak as though pushed through a thick fog.

  The breeze, however, moved easily through the wide-spaced bars and around her, further chilling the already cold stone walls. The floor was partly covered in straw, loose and well worn, the ground beneath it the same cold, grey stone of the walls. The wall directly before her was the same, other than the door, which was made of rough wood faded to almost the same grey as the stone.

  She hadn’t yet tried it. She knew it wouldn’t open and doubted she had any ability to get it open. The wide panels of wood stared back at her. A small window had been cut into the topmost part. Large enough for a face to be seen, but she hadn’t tried to look out of that either.

  Ana didn’t seem to have the energy for anything. She allowed her legs to slide out before her; the cream dress was marked and grey from her surroundings. Her shoes were scuffed. If she had been wearing what she had arrived in, she might have looked more presentable. More like the maid she was.

  For a moment, she missed the cliffs and bridges and the angry lord. She had always been angry, for as long as Ana could remember. And yet Ana had still gone to her and worked hard every day. Until that one day, when the lord had tried to push her from the Walk. Ana closed her eyes, feeling the fear and wind as though she were there again.

  Could Dray hear her all the way down here? Wherever that might be. Somewhere damp. But then this castle wasn’t as it appeared to be. And neither was the plump little lord.

  Ana looked down at her grimy hands and thought of her mother. A woman she didn’t know, who made her father’s eyes mist over when he thought of her. Not that he had spoken of her often. She had been gifted, Ana realised, remembering the vision she’d had in the cottage. Had she lost her life because of those gifts? Ana stood quickly, her head spinning from the movement. Or had she hidden away somewhere?

  Ana beat on the door. She had heard her voice in the darkness. Her mother might be alive and trapped here, using her gifts for this man’s ego. But if that was the case, where might she be, and would Ende be able to find her?

  Ana banged again. The wood was rough against the side of her fist as she repeatedly thumped on the door. She stopped and listened, and there was nothing. She tried to raise herself up onto her toes to see out of the small window, but she wasn’t tall enough.

  ‘Hello?’ she cried out, then pressed her ear to the door once more. Nothing. ‘Help!’ she screamed, putting everything she had into it. She held her ear to the wood once more—still no noise. Not the sound of a guard, or someone else similarly trapped. Nothing.

  Ana put her hand on the bolts where the latch might be on the other side, and she pushed. The door continued to hold solid, but as she closed her eyes, she could feel the rust and the decay in them. It was as though the moist air of the cell pushed through the strength of the metal. She rubbed her hands together and then placed them back over the bolt. If she had a sense of it, maybe she could do something with it. Ende was sure she had some strength, enough to make her dangerous to others; maybe she could use that.

  She took a deep breath and reached out her senses through the cold metal. ‘Let go,’ she whispered. The bolts released their tired hold on the world and the door. Something on the other side dropped to the flagstones with a loud clatter. As the door swung out, she found herself in the dark once more.

  Ana sighed and then stepped forward. Another illusion, another dream. She wondered where she actually was and whether the castle was playing tricks on her.

  She held her hand out before her, breathed in the scent of cold stone and wondered if there was any light available at all, a candle or torch. Could it be hidden in the dark, as the cottage in the mountains and the doorway had been?

  ‘Light,’ she murmured, ‘I need light.’

  A small flame flickered in the distance.

  Making her way to the light, Ana found a small table and chair. She paused, waiting to see if this was another dream, another insight into someone else’s world. There was a pewter cup and a plate with bread and cheese. The plate and cup were fancy in their way, shiny and ornate, while the bread and cheese looked tired against the bright surface. She stepped forward slowly and picked up the cup.

  It appeared to be water, although she wondered what else it might contain. She hesitated. And then she tipped it up and let the cool liquid touch her lips. She hadn’t realised how dry she was. She gulped it down and reached for the chunk of bread. It was hard but edible, and she wondered how long it had waited for her. She chewed slowly, the cup still held tight in her hand. Then she put it down slowly and reached for the cheese.

  Could she have touched things from her other visions in such a way? Could she have held her father? Taken items from the
shelves of the mage’s rooms? Could she find a way out of the darkness through other people?

  She swallowed down the tough cheese and closed her eyes. Could she find Dray this way? Could she call him back to her as she had on the Walk? She tried to picture him, but she couldn’t see him clearly, not like she had before. He was a distant blur. She tried calling silently to him, but he didn’t grow any clearer or any closer.

  She bit into the cheese again and then, in her hunger, pushed what was left into her mouth, struggling to chew it. She tried to drink, but much of it ran down her chin. She needed to slow down. She had seen so much before. Despite the dark and losing Dray, she wasn’t afraid. The candle flickered and went out, and the panic rose in her chest.

  The cup that had been so cold and smooth in her hand disappeared. She felt forward, but the table was no longer there, nor the bread. She slowly worked to swallow the cheese. She would have to work faster if she saw food again. She hoped it really was food.

  She wiped the back of her hand over her chin and found it was still damp. Someone was playing games. Ana straightened her shoulders. She didn’t like games. The lord had done the same, little things to try and get at her. She had learnt to ignore them over the years.

  She had wondered at the pages on the floor of her room, that day she had slipped. As though the lord had wanted her to make a mistake. Ana let her arms drop by her sides, closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. She was stronger than this. She had endured far more than anyone should have, and she had survived.

  She focused on her memory of the Lord of Sheer Rock. Her blond hair blew in the breeze that came through the entrance to the Walk—or was it the exit? Ana didn’t want to focus on that. She wanted to concentrate on the lord. And in that moment, she realised how much like her mother the woman looked.

  Having no recollection of her mother, she’d had nothing to compare the lord to. Now it was as though she couldn’t not see how like her she was. But when she lifted her eyes from the papers on her desk, they were hateful rather than the kind, sad eyes she had seen in the woman who’d held her as a baby. She wondered if her father saw that same similarity, felt a connection to the woman who had probably killed her mother, or at least ordered her death. And then her father’s.

  Ana shook her head. That wasn’t what she needed. She needed to see the pages. Ed had also asked about them. Looking down, she saw the word ‘tribute’ clearly written on the page beneath her foot. The lord opened her mouth to scream at her, but Ana held up her hand and she was silenced. She squatted down and picked up the page she had stepped on. It had a boot mark across it, and splashes of tea.

  It also had her name, clearly and neatly printed in the lord’s hand. In parentheses after it, ‘gifted’ was printed. And then there was nothing else.

  Was she the only tribute the lord had expected to pay to the kingdom? If she had been taken by the mage, what else might the lord have gained? But she hadn’t. Dray had dragged her from the room, and the lord had nothing else to give.

  That wasn’t right, though. There was another list, more pages on her desk, and Ana allowed the page with her name to slip from her fingers and onto the floor. The lord stood from the desk, a broken teacup in her hand, as Ana lifted the other list. But the writing was blurred from the spilt tea, and she couldn’t make out the words. What else would she give the regent if she couldn’t give Ana?

  The castle groaned above her, and she looked up in the dim light coming through from her cell door. The ceiling was much closer than she’d anticipated, the same hard grey stone. She reached up and brushed her fingers over the cold, damp surface. Then she closed her eyes again and sighed.

  The room the Lord of Edge Mountains sat in came into sharp focus. Servants carried platters, but the food was simple; either they didn’t plan to feed them as lavishly every night, or the food had run out. A servant ran her tongue over her lips. And when Ana looked again, it was the same amazing spread she had seen on previous evenings. It was all magicked. Ana had thought it odd, and that might have been why. She turned to the small group by the large chair. The lord leaned over the arm, his leg thrown over the other one. He had a large drumstick in his hand, although Ana struggled to focus on it.

  He waved towards the door, and Ana took a step forward as the servants disappeared rather than step back through the door. The room seemed smaller for a moment, duller in colour.

  ‘She is a maid,’ Belle said, her voice carrying in the space. Ed gave a slight shake of his head. ‘She is,’ Belle insisted. ‘She can’t help you, and you should allow her to leave as she came.’

  Ende looked tired, Ana thought, his clothes more threadbare than they had been before. She focused on Dray standing at the back of the room, looking again like the soldier trying not to be seen. Yet he was looking at her. It was as though he could see her.

  The walls around them creaked again, and although Ana flinched, no one else did. It was as though they didn’t realise just what danger they were in. Or maybe they weren’t in danger, and she was somewhere very different.

  ‘She is to stay. The Lady Anaise will be very useful.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be proper for a young woman to stay with you.’ Belle tried to sound forceful, but she came across as scared, and Ana wondered just what made her so. This little lord and his fake food?

  ‘She can stay as my wife.’

  Ed stepped forward. As Ana took another step, she noticed that Dray had not moved. And he was still looking at her.

  She moved carefully across the room towards him. The conversation became more heated with the lord, but she couldn’t focus on what they were saying. The room around her groaned again.

  Dray’s eyes moved forward as she stood beside him. His hands were rigid by his sides. She slipped her hand into his, surprised at how solid and warm and real he felt.

  ‘Where is she?’ he asked, his deep voice loud and echoing, and she shuddered with surprise.

  The lord shrugged his shoulders as though he didn’t know, and the others turned to look at Dray.

  ‘It is cold and damp,’ Ana whispered. ‘So cold.’ She shivered as he squeezed her hand tight, and then she was back in the small space outside her cell.

  Chapter 24

  Dray looked around the room. He was unsure what he was seeing, but it didn’t look the same as it had moments before. Lord Welcott was going on and on about how Ana could help him, and Dray wondered why he would think that. Ana was able to do a range of things he hadn’t expected when he had first seen her enter that room. It seemed so long ago now. Just a girl in a worn dress, her long dark hair loosely pulled back from her face. He hadn’t noticed her green eyes until he was holding her so tightly above the sea.

  He shook his head, trying to focus on where he was and what was happening around him as the walls creaked and groaned. For a moment, he thought Ana was beside him, holding his hand, seeking his protection. But she wasn’t there. And the room around him wasn’t quite as large as it had appeared to be. The golden shimmer of the stone looked a little duller.

  The large windows didn’t seem to let in as much sunlight, and he felt as though a fog had moved over the castle. Dray looked more closely at the little lord, lounging in his chair, thinking it was a throne. King of his own small world. But he would only remain the Lord of the Seat if he managed to maintain his favour with the kingdom.

  So many people had appeared to move in and out of the castle, but now there was no one, and Ende had seen through that. What else had the old man seen? The mage had been searching for tribute. That had been his claim on the travels to the cliff islands. He was going to collect tribute. What might this man offer as tribute, and why would the mage not stop here?

  It all came back to Ana. The Lord of Sheer Rock wanted her gone. The Lord of Edge Mountains wanted her for himself. As did the mage. Or at least he had on the way to the cliff islands. Once he had touched her, he had wanted her dead. What had he seen?

  Dray looked at Ende, who stood a litt
le to the side of the room. He looked hemmed in, as though the room was too small for him. Dray wondered if he might turn into a dragon to save Ana, or if she needed him to. He always knew more than he was willing to share, and he had thought Ana was dangerous. Again, Dray wondered what had the mage had seen.

  The more he tried to picture the girl, the hazier the room became. The more the walls groaned and the smaller it shrank. The food piled on the table was not as sweet smelling as it had been before, the roasted meats not as glossy. For a moment, it looked like potatoes and porridge. He blinked, and the lavish dishes became brighter.

  He needed to find Ana. Glancing at Ende and shifting uncomfortably, Dray caught his eye. The old man nodded his head down just enough before he looked back to the king. Dray ducked out of the room and found himself in a narrow hallway, the stonework grey and dull. He blinked back his surprise and continued on. He came across another door and, pushing it open, found the large room where they met of an evening—only the shine had gone, and the room looked barely half the size of the one he had just left.

  He pulled the door closed and raced on. The hallways were not nearly as long, and with only a few turns he found himself standing in a small courtyard. Empty stables stood off to the side. On the opposite side of the courtyard, another wing of the castle, although grey and dull, jutted out towards the stables. It contained only one door, with heavy iron bands around the weathered wood and a large lock on the bolt.

  He raced towards it as he heard Ana calling. She was so loud, as though she was standing beside him. He pulled at the lock, which gave way easily. Beyond was a dark set of steps. Although he couldn’t see where they led, he could hear her voice, loud, clear and desperate.

  The stairs spiralled down, and a little light shone from very narrow slits of windows. Dray paused and looked out, seeing snow drifting down over the sparse trees on the mountain.