The Fiery Crown

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The Fiery Crown Page 27

by Jeffe Kennedy


  Con. Raging in his helplessness at having lost Sondra and me. It would be tearing him apart. I couldn’t think about that. I needed to set emotion aside and be alert, clear thinking, more than ever in my life. This was the battle my father had trained me to fight. All the intervening years had been practice, my court a dueling ground to refine my skills, for this.

  Con hadn’t been able to kill Anure, so I would.

  I layered cool reserve around my jangling emotions, like an oyster wrapping an irritant in pearl. I would be smooth, radiant, without flaw or cracks for Anure to dig his claws into. My heart hadn’t been thawed so much by Con’s ardent passion that I couldn’t rebuild the icy shield that had protected me all this time. I would not let Anure get to me.

  Sailors, soldiers, and guards stepped of the way of our little procession, gawking at me. Lifting my chin in regal disdain, I ignored them all. When we came to the bow of the ship, however, I nearly faltered.

  Rearing against the sky—far too close—the emperor’s citadel loomed on the jagged cliffs. We’d nearly arrived at Yekpehr, which meant I’d been unconscious even longer than I’d guessed. I’d seen paintings of the place, and of course the image was embossed on every Ejarat-cursed thing Anure used, but even the best artists hadn’t captured the cruel grandeur of the place.

  Nor its size.

  The cliffs of Yekpehr rose sheer out of the sea, unrelieved by greenery, gray and striated with blacks and reds. The surf dashed itself against the base, sending white spray high into the air, but wetting no more than the lower quarter of the height. The citadel itself rose from the edge of the rocks with no discernible demarcation between land and building. With sharp angles, it sprawled, wing upon wing of fortress, as far as the eye could see.

  And even in daylight, it burned. I couldn’t make out the mechanism—of course, it was wizardry, though what a scandalous, frivolous use of it—but the walls leapt with flame, oily black smoke coiling up to pollute the sky. Just like at Cradysica.

  The despair threatened to swamp me, and—my resolve to remain unmoved already faltering—I struggled to fight it off.

  “It’s not so bad as it looks, Your Highness,” my escort murmured, not unkindly, urging me forward. I stepped with smooth alacrity, abashed that I’d allowed the sight of a castle to trick me into showing fear. I understood using that kind of sleight of hand, the smoke and mirrors of creating an imposing façade. Though I’d never had magic of that magnitude to squander that way. Still, I refused to allow Anure to intimidate me with simple tricks.

  We made our way to the helm of the ship, where His Imperial Majesty, Emperor of All the Known World, stood with legs braced and hands on the wheel, making a show of how he controlled even this. Con had been right all along: Anure had come for me personally. And the slimy bastard had still managed to slip through the trap.

  I devoted all of my attention to the man I’d been all but engaged to, who’d reshaped my entire world and perverted my life path. Whom I hadn’t laid eyes on in nearly fifteen years.

  I’d hated Anure before he ever set foot on Calanthe, so I’d never found him remotely attractive. That hatred had colored my youthful impressions, but he had been objectively handsome back then. With a fine-boned face and chiseled profile that gave him the veneer of refinement, he’d also had a striking shade of auburn hair and piercing blue eyes. His height had made him an imposing figure, along with broad shoulders and narrow hips. In the early days of his rampages, the women went to him willingly, I’d heard, sighing romantically over his noble mien.

  Nothing, however, could make up for the fact that he had no noble blood. The land would never answer to him, no matter how he dressed himself up or what titles he gave himself. Worse, however he’d begun life, his vanity, greed, and consuming need for power had corrupted him beyond redemption.

  The years hadn’t been kind to Anure, and that inner rot had oozed to the surface. His hair had faded to straw, and the wisps I could see through his gaudy monstrosity of a crown looked thinner. He still towered over me—though many people did, including Con—but Anure’s once broad shoulders seemed to have melted, sinking down to sag around his middle. Though he wore a richly brocaded waistcoat, no amount of tailoring could disguise his soft belly and sagging ass. Even his profile had softened, his nose bulbous and big-pored in the way of someone who imbibes far too much, and his complexion had a greasily yellow cast.

  His eyes, however, remained the same light blue, full of gleeful malice as he glanced over at me. It wouldn’t do to underestimate him. He might be crazed and degenerate, but he’d ever had a sharp mind.

  “Your Imperial Majesty.” The younger guard bowed and scraped, managing to preen at the same time. “As You requested, Her Highness Queen Eu—”

  “I know who she is, worm.” Anure turned from his wide-legged stance, carelessly releasing the wheel, oblivious to the hapless sailor who dove to grab it again and steady the ship before the driving wind. “Euthalia.” He drew out the syllables, making my name into something ugly. “It’s been so long. The bloom has quite worn off the rose, hasn’t it? A pity, as you used to be so lovely.”

  I seriously doubted courtesy would do anything to better my chances with him, but it cost me nothing. “Good morning, Your Imperial Majesty,” I said, as I curtsied low, not easy with my hands chained before me, but I managed. “A beautiful day for a sail, isn’t it?”

  He hesitated, just slightly, but enough that I knew I’d disconcerted him. Had he expected me to fall weeping and pleading at his feet? Probably.

  “I’m glad you’re coming home with Me at last,” he confided. “You have something I need. No more playing the coy virgin, eh?”

  “Is that what this is about?” I shook my head as if disappointed. “Surely You can find someone to have sex with You short of suffering the losses You did at Cradysica.”

  He laughed, seeming honestly amused. “Oh, Euthalia. Such ego. Yes, I have innumerable women anxious to satisfy My needs, none with such an unpleasant personality as you have. You know what they call you: the Ice Queen. No, I have no interest in thawing you. Certainly not when you’ve been chewed up and spat out by another. Where is your loving husband now, hmm?”

  “The Slave King?” I made sure to sound carelessly mocking. I didn’t want Anure to know Con was a weakness he could use against me. Or for him to turn his attention to Con at all. Con had cautioned me that Anure had a talent for discovering what people cared about, and I believed him. That meant I could never let the toad glimpse how much Con meant to me. He already had Calanthe as a lever on the soft place in my soul. Adding Con to that pressure might be more than I could withstand. “If that brute survived the battle, he’s likely seized whatever valuables he could scavenge and fled Calanthe.”

  Anure smiled, not pleasantly. “Such are the wages of sin. But tell me, are you so indifferent to the man? I’d heard that you seemed uncommonly fascinated with him.”

  Tertulyn. It had to be. I sighed mentally and summoned a cruel laugh. “Men are so easily led about by the cock, don’t You think, Your Imperial Majesty? I don’t think anyone could blame a girl for using her wiles to make the best of a bad situation.”

  He studied me, that corrupt and canny mind clicking away. “I don’t think much of your supposed cleverness, Euthalia. You should have known you couldn’t hide from Me. Note how easily I found you. My ‘losses’ at that dirtwater fishing village were an acceptable sacrifice. Small price to pay for a much greater treasure.”

  Me? But he’d said he didn’t want me. Worrisome. But I fluttered my lashes, hoping I didn’t look like too much of a travesty. “You flatter Me.”

  He laughed. “Not you. You were a pretty enough girl, but I take no man’s leavings. I don’t want you, but what you have.” His pale gaze drifted to my hand, lust bright in his eyes.

  The orchid ring. The Abiding Ring. Con had been right about that, too, that day he told me about the prophecy. Anure had never been obsessed with me—just with the ring. Con had bee
n the same, though we’d grown to be something to each other, hadn’t we? It didn’t matter now. Funny to be this person in my last days. A queen without a crown. Stripped of my power and my magic, no longer the center of any story. None of it had ever been about me, only about this orchid that attached itself to me at my father’s command.

  “What I have?” I asked, making sure to sound confused and curious.

  “What I have,” he corrected. Grasping me by the arm, he yanked me forward, bruising me with his grip. I pulled my defensive power around me, ready to fling the violence back at him, perhaps take us both overboard to feed the sharks. End this soon and swiftly. But nothing responded to my call. I was bereft, isolated, and weak. I’d become what I most feared and loathed.

  “Look!” Anure pointed me at the citadel. “It’s the largest fortress in all the world. Impregnable. Your new home, as long as you live. Which,” he confided, “will be totally up to you. You’re Mine now. No fighting that. But if you cooperate, you can have a reasonably comfortable life with Me.”

  Gazing up at the imposing edifice, I felt the fight drain out of me. I’d known from the beginning, from my earliest days, that Anure could not be defeated, that he would always win. Conrí, with his determination, the way he’d overcome impossible odds to get as far as he had, had convinced me that we could triumph.

  Daydreams and foolishness.

  “Take a good long look at your new home, Princess, for you’ll never get this view again.”

  He would keep me, I realized, just as I’d told Con I suspected Anure had kept his sister. Anure needed us to rule his lands. I had delivered Calanthe into his keeping. And the Abiding Ring. Which would matter more? I didn’t know, and my exhausted mind served up no canny solutions. Helpless to change my fate, I watched as we sailed into the shadow cast by the fiery citadel, the stifling stink of vurgsten in my lungs, and despair in my heart.

  Somewhere out there, Calanthe wailed Her loss, crying for me to come home. But there was no one left to hear Her, or any of the forgotten, abandoned kingdoms.

  * * *

  I prowled the ruins of Cradysica, as if I might find Lia and Sondra in the rubble, if only I searched long and hard enough. Vesno kept me company and did the best he could to help. He’d found a metallic feather from Lia’s extravagant gold dress, but nothing more. Ridiculous of me to search, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself. Even though Anure had clearly taken them, somehow spirited them out of the harbor. Wizardry, no doubt.

  I would ask Ambrose how it was done, but he’d vanished, too.

  Covered in soot, blood, and grime, I’d talked to everyone who’d been nearby when Lia walked out on that pier. No one knew anything useful. By all accounts, Sondra had suddenly charged out, sword drawn. Then the witnesses lost them both in the smoke and darkness. The two of them had vanished. One moment they were there, the next moment not.

  A day later, I’d still discovered nothing more than that.

  I’d interrogated that foul traitor Tertulyn, who remained my captive. Not that it did me any good. She seemed to have lost her mind, simply repeating her same message, over and over. I’d even let Calla and Nahua tend the woman. They’d been her friends once, and they’d petitioned to bathe and feed her. When Calla reported to me, she’d only shaken her head, saying they’d found no evidence of the Tertulyn they’d known. She seemed to be capable of saying nothing but repeating her message for me. Her glassy gaze saw no one. More foul wizardry. It would be incredibly useful to ask Ambrose about all of this, but again, he wasn’t to be found.

  Gone. And all my fault. I’d take a knife to my own heart, but that wouldn’t help Lia and Sondra. I had to get them back, whatever the cost.

  So I prowled, telling myself I was searching, knowing it was a lie. Pacing like a caged wolf. I’d come up to the ruined temple at the top of the hill, wanting to see its destruction for myself. All rubble. I’d destroyed it as surely as if I’d done it with my own hands, and for what? You lose, Slave King.

  Vesno shoved his muzzle under my hand, brown eyes full of worry. I hunkered down to scratch his ears, wishing I had comfort to give. Or some way of knowing if Lia could hear me through the dog.

  “If you can hear me, Lia, don’t despair,” I said, cupping Vesno’s head and rubbing his brows the way he liked. “I’ll come after you, if it’s the last thing I do.” Somewhere in the muddle of sleeplessness and agony, I’d decided getting Lia back was the most important thing. No other voices plagued me, the cries of the ghosts drowned by the utter sense of wretched loss where Lia had been. “I let you down, I know,” I said, looking into Vesno’s eyes, “but I’ll make it right. I promised to protect you and I—” My throat closed up, and I had to close my eyes against the tears.

  “Conrí.” Kara’s voice dragged me back to sense, and I stood, clearing my throat, using my sleeve to wipe the sweat from my face. At least, I hoped it looked that way. Grime from the pervasive dust and lingering smoke left a smear on my sleeve.

  “Is there a report?”

  “We’ve brought in the last of the boats and prisoners, surveyed the wreckage. That’s everything and there’s no sign of Her Highness, Sondra, or the wizard. Everyone else is accounted for: alive, wounded, and dead.”

  “People don’t just vanish,” I bit out savagely. “Anure took them.”

  Kara scratched his neck. “Knowing Sondra, and the orders you gave her…” He hesitated. “She would die before she failed you. She would’ve stuck, no matter what. Wherever Her Highness is, Sondra is with her.”

  Sharing her fate. I’d consigned them both to hell. “They’re at the citadel. Ejarat only knows where Ambrose has gone, but Anure will have taken Lia and Sondra to the citadel. And I’m going after them.”

  “How, Conrí?” Kara fixed me with his dark, relentless gaze.

  “I’ll sail there.”

  “Even if you had a seaworthy vessel, which you don’t, you cannot assail the citadel with our remaining forces. That wasn’t a good plan back in Keiost and it’s a far worse proposition now, since our losses at Cradysica have been so great.”

  “I still say stealth can work. I’ll go alone. Surely there’s one ship that—”

  “There isn’t,” Kara interrupted forcefully. “Not that can cross the stretch of sea to Yekpehr. Those are rough waters, and even the most marginal choice of vessels will need days, if not weeks, of repair.”

  “Lia doesn’t have that long,” I exploded. “If Anure has her then he could have already—” I cut myself off, unable to speak those words, either.

  “I know,” Kara said softly, without flinching. His hard gaze held no accusation, only compassion. He gripped my shoulder, a rare gesture from the man who avoided most physical contact. “Conrí, I know, but I can’t change reality. We committed everything to that battle, and we have very little left.”

  “I committed everything,” I said. “You advised me to hold ships and vurgsten in reserve, just in case, but I was so sure of victory.” I should’ve known. It had felt too good, and if I’d learned anything, it was that winning tasted like ash. We’d won the battle and lost the war. You lose, Slave King. Tertulyn’s sweet voice mocked me. “Anure played me for a fool. And rightly so. You warned me, back at the palace. So did Lia. I was a stubborn idiot not to listen.”

  You’re hotheaded and reckless. Lia had been so right.

  Kara was silent a moment, releasing my shoulder with a last squeeze and turning to stare out over the bay. Some fires still burned, but the smoke had mostly cleared, the scent of flowers mingling with the stench of blood, vurgsten, and death. “You always told us that Anure has a gift for knowing what we care about most, and he uses that to destroy us.”

  “Sondra warned me,” I said, even then not knowing how to handle the problem. “She said if I cared too much about Lia, then Anure would use that to defeat me, and he has.”

  “Not that.” Kara shook his head. “I think you loving your wife might be the saving of you, of us all. That wasn’t your mist
ake, no disrespect, Conrí.”

  “Just spit it out and tell me.”

  Kara nodded thoughtfully. “All right then. I wouldn’t agree he played you for a fool, but we—and I include myself in this error—counted too much on him not understanding who you are.”

  “I am nobody,” I replied bitterly. King of Nothing.

  Kara wheeled on me, face grim, eyes hard. “You have to stop that shit,” he said, surprising me into nearly biting my tongue. “I understand that feeling, but your conviction that you are no one, a man of no importance—that got us here.” He swept his hands at the wreckage of the dome and Cradysica, the shattered shards of priceless metal in jagged heaps.

  “I am no one import—”

  “Listen to me, Conrí!” he thundered, losing all quiet reserve. “Yes, the emperor played on your weakness, but it isn’t Her Highness. It’s that you put your need for revenge above all else.”

  “Don’t claim that you don’t want vengeance, Kara.” I leaned in, my fury snapping at the leash.

  “Of course I do,” he snarled back. “It’s all that keeps me alive. But I. Am. Not. King.” He spaced out the words, making it clear he thought I needed them beaten into my head.

  “Neither am—”

  “Yes you are! You are Conrí. Our king. My king. Now these people’s king.” Again he swept a hand at the devastated bay. “You were so determined to kill Anure yourself, no matter the cost, that you lost all perspective. A king can’t afford to lose perspective. A good king weighs the costs and protects what’s most valuable.”

  I opened my mouth. Closed it again. Vesno shoved his head under my hand, and I rubbed his silky ears, glad of his comfort, no matter how little I deserved it.

  Kara wiped a hand over his face, as sweaty and grimy as mine. “You thought you were setting bait for Anure, Conrí, but he sacrificed his entire fleet to your trap, just to win the prize.”

 

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