The King's Questioner

by Nikki Katz

  “No.” The king’s voice rose. “We are not yet done talking. You must stay here.”

  “Talking will solve nothing. We are going to go stop the attack, find Ryndel, and destroy his magicked weapons. Then we can talk.”

  The king walked down the steps and toward them. “Cirrus, you must see reason.”

  “Father, I was trained to be a soldier. I’m not letting others fight and die while we hide.”

  The king dared a glance at Reign, but she spun around and walked toward the doors.

  “Terrack, please keep an eye on them.” The king’s eyes narrowed. “As much as I would like to believe they are fighting with us, they did free one of my prisoners. I’m not quite sure I trust them yet.”

  The head guardsman jogged over, and they all moved toward the heavy double doors.

  “Godspeed to you all,” the king called. And then, in a lowered voice: “Someone barricade the doors behind them.”

  * * *

  TERRACK LED THEM to the bailey. Subjects and guardsmen alike streamed in through the gate, eyes glazed over, swords drawn and ready to fight. It was going to be a bloodbath. There weren’t enough people within the castle walls to defend the king.

  They stormed forward, the ragtag group of five, a bizarre sight to behold, from the tiny, silver-specked Luna to the giant-framed Terrack. Rain pelted from above, cold yet searing as it dripped down Kalen’s back, and lightning raced through the heavy clouds.

  Terrack tossed Luna one of his two short swords and turned to Reign. “What will you use for a weapon?”

  “I’m not fighting.” She turned to Kalen. “Get me to the wall.”

  His gloved hand reached for her bare hand, and they raced forward.

  Anger surged through his thoughts, and he seethed. Was Ryndel nearby? Did he have an amulet? Kalen would cut him down. He dropped Reign’s hand and pulled his sword from its scabbard. He lifted his weapon high, ready to plunge it into the Law’s throat, but Ryndel was nowhere to be seen.

  Off to his right, Cirrus let out a war cry and raced into the mercenaries. Luna called after him, ready to have his back, but he outpaced her. She turned to help Terrack as he fought off a group of attackers.

  Two men split apart from the pack and came at Kalen. He swung his sword down and to the side. The man on the right jumped out of the way, but the force of Kalen’s swing sliced at the mail on the other mercenary. Kalen wasn’t sure if the blade cut through, but the man groaned and fell.

  He took a deep breath and made sure Reign was still just behind him. She pushed damp tendrils of hair from her eyes and pointed at the stairs leading up to the parapet. “We need to get higher.”

  Kalen pressed through the crowd, his sword swinging side to side to ward off attack, until they reached the steps. They sprinted up to the parapet and stopped short. Beyond the castle walls, the mob seemed to stretch to the harbor. People funneled up the streets, pushing and shoving, anxious to join the fight. Reign’s eyes widened as lightning flashed and further illuminated their crazed looks and tense bodies.

  “Somewhere inside, I would wager most of these men don’t want to be here,” Reign murmured. “Perhaps they’re trying to resist the amulet’s projections, perhaps not, but if I can give them a mental shove in another direction, they may retreat, or at least come to their senses.”

  If Ryndel could use the amulets to increase the citizens’ anger and anxiety, surely Reign could project her emotions to counteract him, but would it be enough? How was he controlling such a large number of people?

  “I’ll help,” Kalen said. “Try to intensify your magick through me.”

  He feared that’s what Ryndel was doing now, using the other sorciers to project the magick—of one another and the amulets. It would explain how the sorcier’s attraction drew so many people toward the castle grounds.

  Reign’s eyebrows lifted, and she looked at him with uncertainty.

  “How would I push it through you?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ve seen it before. We ran into the bounty hunter in Antioege on our journey to Servaille. He projected his magick through two other sorciers.” He paused. “I think he may have tried to do the same in Servaille as we were fleeing the city.” He had felt a foreign presence and pressure in his mind seconds before his vision had turned black.

  “I felt something then, too,” she said. “But I don’t know how to replicate it.”

  Someone screamed below. Kalen couldn’t tell if it was a war cry or the shriek of a mortal wound, but he knew they had to act fast.

  “Perhaps we try it a different way. I can go into your mind and see your memories as they happen only a second delayed from real time. As you project your emotions, I will try to do the same, and together maybe the magick will be magnified.”

  Reign wiped the rain from her brow and glanced out over the land stretching away from her. Kalen could only imagine the thoughts going through her mind. She had been cast out from this castle, from the king she was now trying to save. A part of her probably wanted to let him die a slow death and watch his kingdom fall. But she had come to right any wrongdoings enabled by her emotions and the magick Nero had siphoned from her.

  She turned to Kalen. “Let’s do it.”

  He lowered his sword to the ground, and she tugged at his glove with her fingers, removing it slowly from his hand. Reign’s eyes closed, her fingers threaded through his, and his mind plunged into hers.

  Kalen easily found her in her most recent memory. She stood in the same spot on the walkway, in the same position, with her eyes closed. The scene was more exaggerated, as it always was in someone’s mind. They stood in a more precarious position, on a much higher wall. The mob came at them from an even farther distance, shouting and thrusting their weapons as they ran at a full sprint.

  In this continuing evolvement of her thoughts, Reign reached out for him and tugged him closer. Her eyes fluttered open, and her fingers reached up to trace his cheekbone. Her lips searched his, soft at first, and tentative. She pulled back briefly, and then her hands dug into his hair, and her mouth found his again, yearning, full of longing and hope and destruction.

  Their tongues and breaths entwined. She tasted of loss and sorrow, and he wanted to take it all away from her. Her teeth tugged at his bottom lip, and he groaned somewhere deep in his throat. His hands tangled in her hair. He couldn’t get enough of her, her taste, her lips, her tongue.

  He forced himself to pull away. “You need to focus.”

  “I am.” The words were a ribbon of yellow, brighter than any sun could have been. “This is the emotion I need.”

  She grabbed his hand and placed it against her chest. Her skin radiated warm through her shirt, and her heart beat a fast rhythm. The beats grew more intense, until he felt them permeate his own body, his heart pulsing in time with hers.

  Time froze. She reined in the pulse and then threw it forth. Kalen felt it immediately, an overwhelming sense of peace and calm. His mind cleared, and he let her magick flood his senses. All his anxiety lifted. He willed the feeling farther, away from him, away from Reign, trying to push their thoughts together to the outer edges of the city and beyond.

  She released his hand, and his mind released hers. Her lips sought his again, this time soft and hesitant and salty in the rain. He rested his forehead against hers, and they breathed in each other.

  Then she collapsed to the ground, nearly bringing Kalen with her.

  CHAPTER

  27

  “They’re stopping.” Terrack had joined them on the wall. Shocked, they watched as the men put down their weapons and looked around in confusion. Kalen held Reign in his arms as her eyelids fluttered and she came to.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “You did it.” Kalen hugged her close.

  “For now.” She straightened and stepped back. “Ryndel still has the amulets and he could start it again.”

  “I saw flashes of light and movement in the top floor of the dungeon,”
Terrack said. It made sense that the coward would lock himself away, and that was one of the buildings in the direction Kalen had been drawn to earlier.

  “Do you want to stay here?” Kalen asked Reign, but she had already begun to make her way down the stairs. He grabbed his sword and followed her.

  They searched the courtyard for Luna and Cirrus. Subjects, mercenaries, and guardsmen alike appeared stunned by their actions. Moans and whimpers from the wounded competed with the sound of the pouring rain. Those who had been attackers suddenly turned into comrades and began treating injuries and moving men indoors.

  Kalen craned his neck, searching the wounded for his friends. He exhaled in relief as he spotted them ambling their way across the courtyard. Luna’s braid had come loose, and her hair fell in wet tangles down her back. Cirrus seemed to be babying his injured arm, but they looked unharmed otherwise.

  Kalen and Reign ducked under the portico that bordered the great hall and offered a welcome respite from the rain. As they walked its length, Kalen let his hood fall to see better by the occasional flickerfly bulb swaying in the wind. Some had been knocked loose and shattered, leaving broken glass to snap under their boots, but freeing the insects within.

  All too soon they were out in the open again, sprinting toward the dungeon tower. Lightning flashed and thunder clapped an echoing sound as Kalen shoved open the door and they raced inside. Kalen headed for the stairs and took them two at a time, hardly stopping at the second floor before taking the next set of stairs to the highest story. He strained to hear any noises.

  “I won’t do it anymore.” A woman spoke, her voice hoarse and trembling. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

  “You’ll do what I say,” the Law nearly shouted. “Or your family will pay for your disservice. The fighting has stopped—you can see with your own eyes.” The sound of feet shuffling and a muffled sob. “We need to attract them all onto the castle grounds. The kingdom will be mine tonight. This time I want you to project through all of them.”

  “No,” more voices chimed in.

  Cirrus elbowed past Kalen into the antechamber. “Enough of this.”

  Kalen took long strides across the room to the cell where Belrose had been held. He glanced through the bars, and his entire body froze.

  Ryndel stood at the far end, staring out the small window cut into the exterior wall. Lightning flashed again, and in the reflection of the glass Kalen could see Ryndel’s wide, unfocused eyes and a tilted half smile that made him look crazed. “You think you’ve stopped me?”

  “Yes. Yes we do.” Kalen found his voice, but his eyes kept cutting to the other figures in the room. Jenna and the other sorciers sat on the floor, their feet bound with a thick metal rope and their arms tied behind their backs. They ranged in age from ten to sixty years old, all of different coloring and backgrounds, and yet in this moment they all looked terrified of the Law. The attractor stood next to Ryndel, a line of dried tears tracing down her cheeks to her jaw. His fingers were locked around her elbow.

  “Do it,” Ryndel spoke right into her ear.

  Her body trembled, and her eyes fluttered closed.

  “You don’t have to,” Kalen said through the bars.

  Ryndel shoved her against the window. “Use him, too!”

  The other sorciers moaned, and then Kalen felt it, that same foreign pressure he’d felt with the bounty hunter. His hands pressed firm against his forehead, and he mentally fought against it. The presence left as quickly as it had come, almost as if she refused to push him.

  Cirrus stood beside Kalen, yanking on the handle. “Enough of this. Come out and face your consequences. Why are you locked in the dungeon, of all places?”

  “Nobody can get to us here. I can see and control everyone from this vantage point.”

  If Kalen could have reached through the bars to throttle the man, he would have. “I can unlock it, you idiot. That’s what I do. That’s what you taught me to do.”

  “Good luck, boy.” The last word was spoken as a condescending insult, thrown across the room with more force than a dagger.

  Kalen removed his pick tools and inserted one into the lock. A twist and turn and the lock opened.

  Suddenly Ryndel turned in Kalen’s direction. He held an amulet in one uplifted hand, thrust toward Kalen as he maneuvered the sorcier so that she stood in front of him as some sort of shield.

  “You coward!” Anger flooded Kalen’s thoughts as he strode toward Ryndel, ready to attack. Before he was halfway across the cell, he was suddenly thrown to the ground from behind.

  “Cirrus, no!” Luna shouted.

  A punch landed on the side of Kalen’s cheek, and pain bloomed from his cheekbone up to his ear. He rolled to the side to try to escape and stared up into Cirrus’s rage-glazed eyes. Kalen’s own anger flared as well. He shoved Cirrus away and leaped to his feet. His hand gripped his short sword as he aimed it at his friend.

  Something began to scream at him. He couldn’t tell if it was within or without, but it was a long wail that told him, No, don’t do this.

  His body wouldn’t stop.

  Cirrus seized his own sword, and within seconds they were attacking. They parried and lunged and circled around one another. The small cell seemed to close in on them until Kalen saw an opening and plunged into the antechamber. His arm swung up and around to parry Cirrus’s step forward. The steel blades crashed and echoed around the room.

  Kalen’s mind felt splintered, a push and pull, a tug-of-war that wouldn’t stop. He fought to keep focused and from being impaled on the end of Cirrus’s sword. But even Cirrus seemed unable to concentrate. His thrusts were weak. His feints were easy to spot. Cirrus was one of the most renowned swordfighters, and even Kalen somehow kept up with him.

  Circle. Lunge. Riposte. Attack.

  “Stop,” Reign cried from where she stood at the top of the stairs. “Stop it, you two!” She took a deep breath and then stepped over against the wall, where she closed her eyes.

  Kalen lunged, and his sword sliced at Cirrus’s side. The cut was shallow, but the prince grimaced as he leaped to the side. Blood seeped through his white shirt, visible where his cloak fell open. He swung his sword up to block Kalen from further attack.

  Luna lunged forward and tried to shove Kalen. “Enough, you two!” she shouted at both of them. “Use your training. Use the Hakunan.” She spun and faced Cirrus. “Use everything you taught me.”

  Kalen’s mouth gaped at the wound, and it was enough of a distraction that he could focus on something other than anger for just a moment. His senses acclimated to the room. To the sounds of the metal of the swords as they slid off each other. To the smell of the rain as it seeped in from outdoors. To the feel of his lungs gasping for air and the tension in every muscle in his body.

  He danced away from Cirrus, refusing to lift his sword toward the prince again. “I’m sorry,” he panted.

  Cirrus’s teeth gritted, and he lunged forward. Kalen easily moved aside.

  Without warning, another feeling permeated the anger. Love. Unconditional love. It was filled with apologies and healing and friendship, and both Cirrus and Kalen dropped their weapons to the floor.

  Reign.

  Even through her anxiety over the fighting, she had been able to harness the emotion and project it over them.

  As if they were one, the siblings both collapsed to the ground where they each stood. Reign was exhausted with the continued use of her magick and Cirrus fell to his knees, his hand immediately going to cover the blood spreading to stain his shirt. Luna ran to him.

  “I’m sorry,” Kalen said again. Self-loathing overwhelmed him, and he thought he might never stop saying those words.

  “Don’t.” Cirrus held up a finger weakly. “Don’t do that to yourself. Neither of us is to blame.”

  “You’re right,” Kalen said. “Someone else is to blame.”

  He wanted to run and comfort Reign. He understood all too well what continued use of their abilities
could do, but first Ryndel had to be taken care of. Kalen strode into the room where the Law stood again near the window. His arm was now locked around the sorcier’s neck, and her expression was a mix of pain and panic. The amulet was held at chest height, directed at the masses outside. The traitor still seemed intent on his original plan.

  “Enough, Ryndel. Put the amulet away.” Kalen was almost within arm’s reach.

  Ryndel pushed the girl to the side, crammed the amulet into his coat pocket, and yanked his sword from its scabbard. He stabbed the weapon in Kalen’s direction, and Kalen barely danced to the side out of the way. Kalen realized too late that he’d left his sword in the other room. He tried to run out of the cell, but Ryndel had stepped around him and blocked his path. Ryndel swung his sword again, and the sword sliced through Kalen’s sleeve. Kalen jumped backward, only to find he was up against the wall, the window behind his head.

  He was going to die.

  “Use your magick,” Kalen shouted at the sorciers, where they still stayed bound on the floor. “Whatever you can do.”

  “We can’t,” Jenna said, her voice hoarse. “It’s the metal rope. He can project through our minds, but the binds remove access to our own abilities.”

  Ryndel sneered at Kalen. “I’ve been planning this for years, and I’ve thought of everything.” He advanced again. “I’ve bested you, Questioner.”

  His sword sliced through the air. Kalen knew he couldn’t get out of the way fast enough, but suddenly the attractor was at his side. Ryndel’s sword swung at an awkward angle, as if she urged the weapon in her direction. It barely missed Kalen’s cheek as it swung past.

  Ryndel’s hand twisted, and the sword slipped from his grasp to clatter on the floor before it slid over to the sorcier’s feet. She reached down and grabbed it, holding it in both hands as she aimed it awkwardly at Ryndel.

  On even footing, Kalen launched himself at Ryndel, his gloved knuckles connecting with the man’s jaw. Ryndel’s head snapped back, and he fell to his knees. “You’ll pay for this,” he said, as his mouth began to swell.