Heart of the Empire (The Broken Lands Book 1)

by Carrie Summers

  Kostan

  Scion's bedchamber

  “YOUR BINDING, SIRE. I’ll change the dressing.” Lyrille knelt before my chair and pulled a gold key from the folds of her robes. She groped for my ankle. I thought I might be sick.

  “It’s not necessary, Lyrille,” I said. “I removed my cuff.”

  “But perhaps sire would allow me to clean the wound. If you don’t receive the proper care, you might fall ill.”

  “I don’t need it!” I growled, gripping the arms of my chair. The girl flinched, and I instantly regretted my temper. I sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. If anything, I’m furious about how you’ve been treated.”

  Her lower lip trembled. “It is my honor to serve the Empire’s Scions.”

  “Honor? They took your eyes! Aren’t you angry?”

  She was trembling. Her lips parted as if she wished to say something but couldn’t put voice to her words.

  “It is not my place to be angry,” she said after a moment.

  I sighed. “No, I suppose not. You aren’t allowed emotions if you wish to live.”

  She clutched her hands tight in her lap. “The other girls…”

  “They’re dead?” I asked.

  Lyrille nodded. “Minister Brevt came to our chambers. He beat them. He said it must have been one of us that warned you to flee. The girls that didn’t die from their injuries were thrown from the Chasm Gate.”

  I swallowed another surge of nausea. With a deep breath, I clenched my fists then began an exercise I’d learned to settle into a Scion’s emotionless calm. Exhaling, I uncurled my fingers and relaxed my shoulders. Counted three breaths and imagined my face as still as Steelhold’s granite.

  “Why are you still alive?” I asked. I was afraid of her reaction if I touched her in reassurance, but I realized what a coward that made me. Swallowing, I leaned forward and cupped her elbow. She started but didn’t pull away. “Please, take my chair,” I said as I helped her up.

  She shook her head. “I’d rather not. Minister Brevt has given me specific instructions.”

  “Minister Brevt will not live out the day. Now please. I can’t have you kneeling on the floor, not after everything you’ve been through.”

  With a sigh, the girl nodded. She patted the air until she found my chair then turned and sat. “Can the guardians hear through the door?” she whispered.

  “Not as long as you keep your voice low.”

  “Then to answer your question as to why I’m alive, it’s luck. Nothing more. Minister Brevt worked his way through our chamber girl by girl. Those who tried to run were beaten the worst, so most of us stayed in our beds. By the time he reached my bunk, he’d worked out most of his rage. I could sense his need to feel powerful, so I begged for my life. Groveled, really. I called him a great man. A powerful man. The rest of his fury left him, and he asked me to join his personal staff. He said he intends to take the throne and will need many loyal servants.”

  “He doesn’t hide his plans from you?”

  She shook her head. “The more I flatter him, the more he talks. He’s very fragile on the inside.”

  I smirked even though she couldn’t see my expression. “It sounds to me as if your cleverness did more to spare you than your luck. And to think when I walked in here, I imagined you as the one needing protection.”

  “I’m blind, not weak or witless.”

  “Indeed. So—”

  I bit off my words when the door flew open. As Lyrille jumped to her feet, I stepped to shield her from the door.

  The newcomer wore ten silver rings. No doubt he hid more silver under his robes. In a strange echo of Ferromaster Ilishian’s arrival in my chambers just a few weeks ago, I recognized the man. Argentmaster Yevinish, leader of the Order of Argents.

  My heart thudded as I emptied my mind of speculation about Vaness’s movements. I had no doubt he’d pry her last known location from my memories eventually, but I hoped to resist for a while. In truth, my arrival hadn’t gone as well as I'd hoped. I’d imagined the aurums would rise to my defense sooner, or that I’d have swayed the Prime Protector by now. But I’d have to work with the situation.

  The man’s lips twitched in a humorless smile. “Scion Kostan… have you ever seen a kitten try to fight? Your pathetic attempt to hide your thoughts would be humorous if the argents hadn’t been tasked with training you. Surely they taught you better.”

  “I don’t know where Vaness is,” I said.

  No, you don’t, the argentmaster said directly into my mind. But neither do I know for certain whether the world still exists outside your chamber door. I believe there is a corridor beyond the door because of my previous experiences. You might even call it a guess. Your history with Vaness will allow you to make similar guesses. And as I pluck them from your mind, the Ministry will send trusted men and women to search for her. Now, shall we begin?

  “Let’s talk first,” I said. “I prefer to get to know someone before I let them inside my head. So, do you feel guilty for betraying your Emperor?”

  The argent’s gaze bored into me. “I do not. Now, where do you believe Vaness to be hiding?”

  I formed a picture of the high mountain valley I’d stumbled through after fleeing the Hold and shoved it to the front of my mind.

  “Amusing,” he said. “But if tricks like that worked, the Empire would have little use for argent truthseekers. I’ll ask again, where is Vaness?”

  I couldn’t allow myself to wonder that. Instead, I imagined walking with Vaness along Steelhold’s wall. In profile, her features were so finely sculpted. I’d genuinely enjoyed our friendship.

  A relationship between Scions is strictly forbidden, the argent said.

  “It was nothing,” I said. “A fling.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “But there were others who interested you recently.”

  Others. Kei. Savra. I couldn’t help it when their faces sprang into my mind, a flood of images and memories. I remembered Kei’s ponytail in the moments before she died. Her bright voice suggesting I join Stormshard. And Savra. The blush in her cheeks after she called me her betrothed in front of Fishel. My bone-deep disappointment at finding out she’d left the inn before I returned.

  Frantic, I tried to shut down the memories, but they wouldn’t stop. I thought of Savra’s sorrow for the beheaded boy. Her courage in coming to Jaliss alone.

  Argentmaster Yevinish curled his lip in disdain. “Too easy. A basic misdirection, and I know more than I need to get started. It’s the easiest of the argent techniques. Anyway, an interesting journey you’ve had… the Ministry will be grateful for the tip on Stormshard’s whereabouts.”

  “They’re gone. The earthquake destroyed their mountain refuge,” I said, knowing he’d sense the truth of my statement. I just had to hope it was enough to divert attention from Evrain and his friends.

  “No matter. It’s a trifling detail compared to finding Scion Vaness. We’ll start at this Graybranch Inn. Perhaps burn it to convince your friend Fishel how serious we are about finding Vaness. If he can’t help us locate her, I’m sure we’ll learn something from Savra. From what you recall, it seems she intended to visit the registrar and become a scribe. It won’t be difficult to follow her trail from there.”

  “Fishel and Savra have nothing to do with this. They didn’t even know I’m a Scion.”

  “I gathered that. Won’t they be surprised when we capture them and bring them here for questioning? I think you’ll be quite willing to help us locate Vaness once you realize the… consequences of continued resistance. As you said, they have nothing to do with this. Would be a shame if they were harmed due to events beyond their control.”

  My pulse roared in my ears as fury took hold. I couldn’t let the Ministry hurt my friends. Especially not Savra. I unfocused my eyes, allowing objects at the edge of my vision to enter my awareness while my gaze stayed on the argentmaster. There, on the wall two paces behind him.
My practice scimitar.

  “Lyrille?” I asked.

  “Y—yes sire?” she said from behind me.

  “You are a loyal servant to Brevt. I respect that, and I don’t wish you to face punishment for betraying your master.” While I spoke, I watched Argentmaster Yevinish’s eyes. The instant they flicked to Lyrille, I sprang. I aimed a kick for the mage’s knee while landing a fist in his gut. Neither blow did much harm, but they sent him reeling. As I leaped for the scimitar, he backpedaled, eyes wide.

  Lyrille was silent as she rushed forward, hands clawing at the mage’s face. Storms. I hadn’t wanted to involve her, only to create a distraction. She missed his face but managed to land a blow on his chest, sending him spinning into the first slash of my dull-edged blade. Steel bit into his cheek, tearing flesh.

  The next instant, I felt an icicle ram through my forehead into my mind. Agony exploded behind my eyes. My knees buckled under the full force of the argent assault. As I collapsed, I aimed a desperate blow at the mage’s hand, hoping to sever fingers and the rings that encircled them. My scimitar glanced off, useless.

  Chapter Sixty-Three

  Savra

  An alley mouth, Steelhold

  NEARING THE DORMITORY, I heard a cry from a narrow alley. I darted to the corner, just out of view, and focused my aura-sight into the recesses. My stomach turned. Minister Brevt’s oily spirit squirmed in the darkness, like a many-headed snake striking at another soul. The aura of the woman who’d screamed was bright with anger and fear.

  I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want any more attention from the minister. My task of unlocking the Shadow Gate was hard enough. But he was hurting whoever he had trapped in that alley. I couldn’t just walk away.

  Pressing my fingernails into my palms, I stepped into the alley.

  Oralie’s terrified eyes met mine. Minister Brevt had her pinned against the wall, using both his physical form and his spirit tentacles to hold her. Anger roared through me like a Maelstrom-spawned storm. I couldn’t let him do this. I sprinted for the man, fumbling for my belt where I kept my fishing knife hidden.

  The minister whirled and grinned, exposing glistening teeth. A tendril of spirit whipped toward me and slapped my arm before I could raise a defense. My hand went numb, and the blade clattered to the stone.

  “Savra,” he said. “I heard that you and Oralie are close. I thought she might have insight on how I could win your allegiance.”

  Behind him, my friend shook her head, eyes wide. As if in response, a snarl of spirit tentacles erupted from Minister Brevt’s aura and struck her from all sides. Oralie’s shriek died as a thick rope of oily darkness wrapped her throat. Her face began to purple.

  “Stop!” I screamed. I groped for my protections as another tendril lashed toward me.

  Enclose him! Lilik shouted into my mind. I think that’s how Parveld cut off your abilities.

  Heartbeats passed while the tendril descended and I tried to understand her words. Enclose him. Did she mean surround him?

  My gorge rose as I flung my aura-sense around Minister Brevt. The touch of his roiling hatred was like plunging my soul into estuary muck. Eels squirmed beneath my embrace. With a final swallow to keep my lunch in my stomach, I cinched my spirit over his, containing him.

  “Oralie, run.”

  Her mouth worked for a moment, but the protest died on her lips. Staggering with arms wrapped over her belly, she hurried for the alley mouth and out of sight.

  I’d cut off Minister Brevt’s power, but I couldn’t control his body. His face a mask of rage, he paced forward, arm cocked. I wasn’t fast enough to deflect the blow. The slap stung my cheek, knocked my head sideways. I spun and collided with the stone floor of the alley, stars dancing in my vision. The minister aimed a kick for my gut, knocking the wind from my body.

  My aura-sense vanished. I couldn’t bring it back. Somehow, I clung to the walls surrounding my mind, though I felt his power battering against them. The armor worked. Deep in my heart, I felt a surge of accomplishment as pain flooded my body.

  “Protectors!” he yelled.

  I curled, groaning, as booted feet approached. My breath came in small gasps as armored hands grabbed my arms. Two guards yanked me upright to stand face to face with the minister. His breath stank of eggs as he leaned close and narrowed his eyes.

  “Clearly, you are unwilling to make yourself useful to me. Worse, you’re beginning to learn about your powers.” He glanced at the protectors. “Lock her in my chambers. We’ll make an example of her after my other business is concluded.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Kostan

  A bedchamber doorway, palace, Steelhold

  MY SCIMITAR THUDDED onto the carpet as the agony in my mind drove out all sense. I fell to the floor beside my weapon as Argentmaster Yevinish stood over me. His cheek streamed blood. Teeth and gums showed through the open flap. He smiled anyway.

  Images flashed through my mind, forced there by his argent magic. I saw Fishel’s inn burned to the ground. Savra’s green eyes filled with terror as the ministers dragged her up the ascent trail. They’d force me to watch her execution.

  I cried out, my voice hoarse and booming as he dug through my memories of Vaness.

  “She loves you,” the argent said, laughing. “Poor Vaness. The story about her fleeing to a distant sanctuary never would have held up. She’d never leave Jaliss while you were in danger. And meanwhile, you’re betraying her.”

  As he spoke, claws pierced deeper into my mind. Twisting and rending. My back arched as another scream escaped my throat. In the corner of the room, Lyrille covered her sightless eyes with her hands and cried.

  “The Ministry has awarded the honor of your execution to the Prime Protector,” the mage said. “But given your work on my cheek, perhaps they’ll reconsid—”

  The door flew open, cutting off his words. As the pressure on my mind eased, I gagged and rolled to get a glimpse of the hallway.

  Minister Brevt stalked toward me as I made a feeble attempt to reach my sword. He stomped on my hand, mashing the bones together. “I’m no longer in the mood for patience,” he said. “Do we have enough information, Yevinish?”

  “Master Yevinish. And yes. I’ve gathered what I can about the remaining Scion. Furthermore, there are two others he cares for. An innkeeper and a scribe. Fishel and Savra. Damaging them will provide much-needed vengeance, I believe.”

  A look of shock landed on the minister’s face. He seemed to fumble for words for a moment. Was it really that surprising that I—a Scion—could find others to care for? “Savra. A Provincial name. How interesting. I shall see to their capture. Now—” The minister looked over his shoulder and summoned a group of four protectors. “—bring the traitor to the central courtyard. We’ll let the Prime Protector soften him up for his execution.”

  I groaned as the protectors dragged me upright. The inside of my skull felt pierced by a thousand nails. My throat was raw from screaming. I kept my eyes off Lyrille in hopes Brevt wouldn’t notice her. But as the guards muscled me forward, the minister turned to the girl.

  “Master Yevinish, please throw her out the gate. If you don’t wish to dirty your hands with Prov blood, feel free to command a protector in my name.”

  “Do you believe me a servant ready to do your bidding?” the mage said in a mild tone that belied the ice in his eyes.

  Minister Brevt’s face hardened. “Consider it a favor, then.”

  After a moment, the mage nodded. “The ferros will appreciate another available spirit, I suppose.”

  ***

  The first lashes struck my back and shoulders, raising lines of fire on my flesh. I clenched my teeth, but the moans still escaped my lips. My wrists were lashed high up the whipping post. Iron cuffs clamped my ankles, joined by heavy chains to stone pillars.

  The sun beat down, setting my head spinning. As I sagged against the post, the Prime Protector snarled and s
truck again.

  “Emperor Tovmeil is dead,” I grunted. “The Ministry wishes to usurp him.”

  “And you are his murderer,” she said. “For killing my liege, I will make your death last for days.”

  “Not by me,” I said. “Brevt. A conspiracy.”

  “Lies.”

  The whip struck again, lashing across an earlier welt. Darkness fluttered at the edges of my vision. My knees buckled.

  “Where are the aurums?” the Prime called across the courtyard. “He’s going to die before we get our proper revenge. He needs healing.”

  In the depths of my mind, hope flared. The aurums were on my side. With the excuse to lay hands on me, they might find a way to free me.

  Another of the ministers, Thani, stepped into view. “Unfortunately, the Ministry has reason to doubt the Trinity’s loyalty. Until their allegiance can be proved, they’ve been sealed in their tower.”

  My head dropped forward. So much for that. I’d thought boldness would win me the throne. I’d thought my allies would come to my aid. Unfortunately, I’d misjudged.

  I’d failed the Empire. Worse, I’d condemned my friends. How long before Fishel’s inn burned? When would the Ministry’s agents track Savra to her new job as a scribe. Would she learn that I’d betrayed her? Or would she go to her death never knowing that her sin lay in befriending me?

  Another lash of the whip stole the breath from my lungs. I fell into the post, splinters piercing my cheek.

  “Stop,” Minister Brevt said quietly. “I wish him to witness something before he loses consciousness.”

  I rolled my head to see Brevt nod at a messenger who ran off toward Ministry Hall. With a sneer, Brevt turned his gaze to me. Something in his face sent a chill up my spine.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Savra

  Outside Minister Brevt's chambers