I laughed so softly it was only a gust of air escaping my lips. What hubris. To think that any of that was a decision available to me when I was a captive, barely standing, supported only by his arms. But I couldn’t give up. When you give up, you’re worse than dead – that was the saying, right? My head was so foggy that I couldn’t remember anymore.
A vision flickered over my sight – one of my bees, I realized. Far away and faint, but out there. I saw a glimpse of my brother Alect and my heart soared. He was fighting the Forbidding, carving it back with neat sword strikes, my nephew Barst on his back, strapped on with long strips of cloth the way we’d carry the little children for long hikes or walks.
The vision faded and I blinked back tears. They were still alive. They were out there – somewhere – fighting. My bee had found them. And even if I never saw them again, I could die knowing that they were safe and well. There was a strength in the thought that eclipsed everything else.
I let the hope of that fill me as Osprey led me deeper into the fine home. Whoever owned it, loved the sea. Every knickknack was a sailor’s from the blown glass buoys on one of the small tables to the collection of shells displayed behind glass. Fishing spears were set in a case on one wall and a vibrant painting of a ship in sail was on another. My fingers itched to grab one of those spears, but Osprey held me close as he descended the stairs into the floor below. The strength of his arms should have been a comfort to me, but they were my cage. His footsteps seemed to drag, slower and slower as if the dread of what was to come was filling him, too.
A Claw stopped us at the foot of the stairs and Osprey answered her questions in curt, clipped words while I let my eyes roam across the sprawling entrance at the bottom of the stairs. The Claws had not been gentle to the house here. Furniture and vases were smashed. Curtains ripped from the windows. There was a double guard at the main door of the house, but there was also a blood smear across the floor leading into a room with another set of Claws guarding the door.
My limbs began to tremble. It was that blood smear. It promised things that made my insides skitter like insects across the floor. And it reminded me of the temple underground where Juste Montpetit had manifested snakes and then tried to kill me.
I gripped Osprey’s arm as we passed the guard at the foot of the stairs, my strength finally failing me utterly. Osprey didn’t even pause as he drew me in tighter, almost embracing me as he carried me – his arms like rock and far too strong to escape – as he followed the blood trail.
But wasn’t this the way it had been all along? It had been love that had bound me to follow them to this city, love that had me save Le Majest’s life, love that made me endure all of this – love of my family and the desire to see them safe and free. My love for them had taken my hand and led me into the darkness. And his love for those children was doing the same with him right now.
“Please,” I whispered, knowing full well it was futile. I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t turn the instinct to survive off. It was deep in my core layers.
Osprey’s jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth against my plea, a sheen of sweat coating his forehead as if he was about to face the Emperor’s Vultures. “Don’t beg, Apidae. Spare me that.”
The door swung open and the guards stepped aside as Osprey carried me into a wide gallery. It must have been used for parties or dinners. The walls were paneled and painted white, small pillars rose at intervals along them – also white – bearing marble carvings of albatrosses. This must be House Albatross. A fitting thing. Even I, raised far from the sea, had heard of the way sailors viewed those birds – a sign of both luck and disaster. Zayana and her love of signs would be thrilled by this.
At the center of the room, Juste Montpetit stood, staring at the toe of his boot as a translucent snake slithered around his shoulders and twisted across his forehead like a crown. He looked up as we entered, his huge brown eyes brightening as they met mine in what could only be described as hunger.
Chapter Twenty-Two
MY STOMACH FLIPPED and – foolishly, knowing better – I clung to Osprey like a frightened child.
The gallery was so full of people that I couldn’t hope to identify them all. I caught sight of Butiez and Xectare in one corner pouring over maps on a table. What had Wing Xectare said to Le Majest to return to his favor? I would have thought that he’d never forgive her for leaving him on the battlefield when he needed her blood to save him. Claws guarded every window their postures stiff and expressions tense. A man with a nautical look to him – who I assumed owned the house – was sitting in a corner with a woman who might be his wife. Both of them looked frightened and unhappy, but they kept their eyes to the floor as I surveyed the room. I’d get no help from them. There were clusters of Claws and whispering huddles of people who looked like High’uns. The High’uns were dressed in their best Imperial style, long flowing court robes on the women and tight trousers ending in heavily embroidered short jackets on the men. The women wore their hair in intricate braided caps and the men wore theirs in short tails at the backs of their necks and the whole thing had the effect of a dinner party gone horribly wrong. They were gathered around the room like murders of ravens, here to feast on death.
“Look around,” Le Majest said in a deceptively light tone. “This room, and everyone in it, is mine. Do you see that?”
I said nothing. I wasn’t going to play his games. I stared defiantly into his eyes, showing him with my gaze that I refused to be broken.
His face grew tight. “Put her down.”
Osprey set my feet on the floor wordlessly, but I could feel his heart pounding in his chest. I could feel the tension in his muscles as he supported my swaying weight beside him with one powerful arm. He pulled a toothpick out from his sleeve and jammed it between his teeth. It snapped and he fumbled for another one, his hand shaking.
“Can she not stand alone? She struck me as someone who always wants to.” Juste Montpetit hadn’t moved, and yet it felt like his voice was sliding toward me slowly, like a snake prowling.
Osprey pulled his arm away and I barely kept my feet under me. It took all my concentration to remain standing. My legs felt like jelly and my head swam.
Come on, Aella. Don’t let them see you fall.
“Those bees have taken a toll on you, it would seem,” Juste Montpetit said, and his words almost sounded sympathetic until he crossed to me with a single step, seized my hair in his fist and shook me, his voice still a whisper, a mad glitter in his eye. “And what toll did you make me pay? You took away those bees and left me in agony. Worse – you’ve left your mark on me, girl. That honeycomb can’t be removed or I will die. That’s what the healer said. And kept saying even after I gave her many reasons to stop saying it.”
My eyes followed the trail of blood across the gallery floor to where it ended in a slumped pile beside the owners of the house. That couldn’t be the healer ... could it?
Juste Montpetit followed my eyes and smiled.
“That’s right. Look at her and think about how that could be you. You defied me. You ran from me. You took away your bees but still left your curse in my belly. You marked me with your magic and I am marked by no one.”
“You seem fine now,” I said through lips thick with exhaustion.
“As in well? Whole?” he asked, adjusting his grip to turn me so I had to look at him.
He shoved me down to my knees, fist still tight in my hair. It brought my eyes level with his belt and with the spot where his torn, blood-stained shirt still parted and the angry red flesh of his belly parted, too, revealing the glowing honeycomb holding him together, a salve around it.
He meant me to see that, I realized. But what I was unable to stop staring at was the dagger in his belt – a new one with an albatross inlaid on the hilt. Good luck or disaster. It could be either – or both. It was almost within reach, if I was mad enough to take the chance. I licked my lips, trying to judge if I was fast enough to take it and make the kill before O
sprey ran me through with his sword.
I would be able to do it this time. It wouldn’t feel like murder. It would feel like the end of a nightmare.
“I’ve been trying to decide how to repay you for this,” Juste said silkily. He dropped my hair so suddenly that I sagged as he stepped back. I’d lost my chance to grab the dagger. “It ties me to you. Did you know that? That’s the only interesting bit of information that healer was able to give me – that the honeycomb ties me to you. If you die, it’s gone. Which means I don’t want you to die.”
I looked up, meeting his eyes. He didn’t want to kill me? My heart stuttered on the burst of hope.
His smile twisted cruelly. “Don’t mistake that for mercy. I don’t want you dead, but that doesn’t mean I don’t plan to punish you.” He snapped his fingers. “Osprey.”
Osprey didn’t move and Juste Montpetit’s eyes narrowed. “Did you think that was a suggestion? Have you forgotten that you have to obey me? And if you don’t hit her when I say strike, you’ll feel that flash of agony that tells you one of your little souls has been whisked away. What’s more precious to you, Guardian? Your charges’ lives or this girl’s pretty face?”
I heard Osprey’s toothpick snap for a second time. And then, lightning fast, he had a dagger in his hand. Juste’s head cocked to the side, eyes narrowing and I felt my own eyes grow large. Did he plan to stab me with it.
Osprey’s throat bobbed as he visibly swallowed and then he plunged the dagger into his other hand. Juste bit back a snarl, clutching his hand to his chest as Osprey removed the dagger, letting his blood spill onto the floor.
“I’m ordering you, “ Juste hissed. “You will –”
His words cut off as the dagger plunged again – this time into Osprey’s left thigh. He stumbled at the blow, Le Majest mirroring him exactly. Both of them clenched their jaws against the pain and then a light of malevolence filled Juste’s eye and he pulled himself to his feet.
“In the mood for games, guardian? I can play games. I’m very good at them.” He snapped his fingers and two Claws stepped forward. He waved a vague hand at me. “The eye, if you please.”
Before I could gasp they stepped forward and a fist crashed into my face.
I sprawled across the floor, head ringing, pain flashing through my body. I didn’t remember hitting the ground, didn’t remember the strike. I tried to twist to get my hands under me but my vision was blurred. I reached up gently and felt my right eye already swelling.
“Do I need to order my Claws to stop you, guardian?” Juste asked in a tight voice. I could see he was clutching one arm. Osprey must have stabbed himself again.
“If you must. I will not stop until you do.” Osprey’s voice was equally tight. “There’s no need to keep torturing her.”
Le Majest snorted. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t ordering his Claws to stop Osprey. This dance between them was opaque to me.
“There is now,” he said viciously. His voice turned to me. “Up. On your knees.”
I moaned.
“Or would you rather I have them kick you in the belly – right where you put your mark in me? You may not be able to stand for a week when they’re finished.”
I gasped, pulling myself to my knees and swaying there.
“See?” Montpetit asked. “Is obedience so difficult?
Osprey stood behind him, his bird gone and his eyes dark with shame. I tried to meet them, but he kept his gaze from me, darting away whenever I tried to catch it. His cheeks were hot just like the blood spilling now from hand and leg and side.
He was doing that for me. To try to stop my torture or at least keep himself from being the one to do it to me. It was ... heartbreakingly noble ... and yet even that defiance was not enough.
Le Majest would not be stopped by pain. His cruelty burned too bright for that. I turned back to meet his eyes again.
“You’re having me beaten?” I asked in a mild tone, feigning surprise. “After I saved your city?”
“My city?” Juste Montpetit asked, his snake rolling off his head to creep, twisting round and round his arm until the head curled up from the tips of his fingers, arching into an S shape and flicking its tongue through the air. Around us, his gathered court gasped with shocked delight as if he’d just brought a twisted party trick to the ruined ball. “Well, that’s progress. You’ve admitted that something is mine. Does that mean that you realize that you are mine, too?”
“Le Majest?” there was a cough from in the room and he spun, poison in his eyes. I followed his gaze to see Claw Brielle there, surrounded by other Claws. They shifted uneasily as she spoke. “If you please, Le Majest, the Hatchling speaks the truth about the city. Lord Captain Claw Afalai has stated that the flag communications saved us. Without them, we were too unprepared to form an effective defense.”
She shouldn’t have said that. She shouldn’t have done that. Even if I hadn’t known that myself, I would know it in the way Osprey’s eyes clouded in pain. They were hooded like the eyes of an eagle.
“We speak only the truth in the Winged Empire,” Le Majest said mildly, watching Claw Brielle with a gentle smile.
“As you say, Le Majest,” she said boldly.
“Take this Claw and escort her out of the city. Take her armor and weaponry. She is banished from our Empire. If she does not love the truth, she has no place among us.”
“Le Majest?” Brielle gasped, eyes wide. She was already being dragged away by her fellow Claws.
“Oh, and take her tongue. We speak only the truth in the Winged Empire,” Juste Montpetit repeated, his eyes glittering with madness. “You’re writing the truth right now, aren’t you, Butiez?”
“As you say, Le Majest,” Butiez called from his corner of the room. “I am preparing a request for four full companies of Claws with Tern ships to accommodate them for the security of this colony to be led by our gracious crown prince whose presence has already banished the enemy from this city and is required to make this entire continent secure.”
“Carry on,” Juste hissed, his spirit snake hissing with him. “See? It is not a girl with bees who has saved this city – or will save this city and all of Far Stones – it is the crown prince. I plan to make this continent safe again.”
He said ‘safe’ with a smooth tone as if it was a threat – which of course it was. ‘Safe’ only meant under his control. ‘Safe’ only ever meant owned.
I felt the swell of my eye and thought of him beating all of us into the ground, of cutting out tongues and eyes. Of taking our weapons and our ability to speak the truth – the real truth, not his ‘truth.’ My jaw hardened and my bees began to buzz in my head again. I grasped at their buzz, desperate for the feel of their power.
Montpetit nodded to his Claws. “The belly this time.”
And before I could flinch, pain burst through me, stealing my vision for a moment, leaving me curled over my agonized insides, heaving, gasping for breath. My thoughts swirled out of my head, leaving nothing but pain and gasps of air. Pain and more pain. I thought I felt another blow and another, but I was nothing but pain drifting on pain and more pain.
My head cleared enough to pull myself onto all fours and dry heave. There was nothing left in my belly. I’d lost it all a long time ago.
“Enough, Osprey!” Juste snarled, his voice raw. “Forbidding take it!”
Rough hands pulled me back to my knees.
“You might be wondering why I am having you beaten before me,” Juste Montpetit swam in my vision as if he was underwater and I was looking down at him. His face had a drawn look, despite his triumph, as if he was fighting as much pain as I was, and his words came out tight as if he had to force his tongue to speak.
I sucked in a long, agonized breath.
“I assumed it was because you were too weak to do it yourself,” I gasped. If I was going to die. I would die with defiance on my tongue.
He moved like a lightning strike, grabbing my throat in his hand and pulling me u
p to my feet. Agony shot through me. He leaned in so close I could smell his breath, whispering now.
“The people of this land gave you something. Something that was meant for me.”
“Something you were too cowardly to take for yourself,” I whispered, barely able to speak at all through my crushed throat.
He hissed – just that, a hiss like a snake.
“Something that I don’t dare lose. And yet, I want you to see that rebellion is useless. That it will only get you pain and misery. Everyone who speaks for you – even in a small way – will be removed. Sentenced to die wandering outside the walls. Anyone who moves to protect you will be tortured to death. But you – you will stay by my side and you will serve me. I’ve realized where I’ve heard of bees before. There’s a poem about them.
“The bees drive back the rest,
The bells of freedom ring,
They conquer and they best
Cute, don’t you think?”
I didn’t respond and he squeezed harder, the snake unfurling from his hand and wrapping itself with silky cold around my neck and mouth.
“It means that you’re part of this – your bees are required. And they will serve me as I conquer the world.”
I gasped in a breath as he relaxed his grip enough to let me speak. I shivered at the feeling of the snake sliding around my neck. “I thought the Winged Empire already owned the world. What do you need to conquer?”
“Everything,” he whispered in my ear. “And you will be there to watch it all. It turns out I need both those bees and the gift that my new allies left in that pretty head of yours.”
“Allies? They just attacked your city.”
Hive Magic (Empire of War & Wings Book 2) Page 14