“Be still.” A warning rang through his tone.
He must still be angry about that surprise attack. Akub complied.
An eerie silence hung inside the corridor. Early in the morn, hushed, disembodied voices slipped through the windows and archways as people trickled into the castle, unaware of the importance of her situation, going about the work of morning meals.
The knights had tied her hands behind her back. Despite the people, no opportunity arose to escape, so she sucked in a deep breath and stretched her arms as far as the ropes would allow. Her shoulders burned from the effort, but the bindings held. Curse Zykeiah for being so efficient.
“Be still!” Marion’s voice held threat of harm.
Once she’d complied with his orders, Marion knelt and stood her upright, planting her feet flat against the stone floor. She could move her legs, though only in a little shuffle because of the rope’s short length.
Almost as if she’d blinked, the corridor cleared.
“Where is everyone? It’s almost morning meals.” Beside her, Zykeiah removed her own cloak and shook it out. After tossing it over her shoulder, she removed her gloves and shoved them into the cloak’s pocket. She rubbed her hands together and held them before the fire to warm them.
With his free hand, Marion snatched Akub’s arm and half-dragged, half-guided her down into the room. Her booted feet made shuffling noises against the flooring. They stopped in front of Zykeiah’s quarters. The exact same place she’d been only a few hours prior. Neither of the knights spoke. There seemed to be some mental communication between them.
Marion kept his cloak on, and Akub could hear the call of the orb. She cried out against the gag, but it came out only as muffled noise.
“Speak not! Your mouth has caused enough sorrow.” Zykeiah patted her thigh daggers with her free hand. “You do understand, Devourer, that you will leave this planet and never return? Perhaps leave it in spirit form. You did exactly what you told me you wouldn’t do. I ought to kill you where you stand.”
“No. That will fall to me.” Marion pulled the sword from its sheath that hung on a muscular thigh, his face a mask of stone. One of the servants giggled, and he glanced around. When he turned back to Akub, he sheathed his weapon with the casualness of habit.
Zykeiah had a stubborn streak the size of a danker beast’s, but so did Akub. It made for a dramatic and messy relationship. So why did Akub long for it again? How could she tell Zykeiah that she’d risked her own life, her re-established reputation for the sole purpose of saving Veloris, saving her?
Zykeiah pushed her roughly aside as she unlocked her door and walked into the room. Marion shoved Akub over to the space beside the fireplace, grunting at her as he did so. It was like he wanted to speak to her, but his anger had rendered all his abilities to do so null.
“Where’s Kalah?” Marion inquired to Zykeiah. He leaned back against the wall adjacent to the door. “Did you not tell him to meet us here? We ought to take this one up to the holding cells.”
“Well, he returned from Stocklah, opting not to camp overnight. How he manages to be late when his room is right next door, I don’t know.” Zykeiah placed more pink logs onto an already blazing fire. She avoided eye contact with Akub.
Akub smiled against the gag as she recalled that Zykeiah liked onk logs. They acted not only as a source of heat, but also as an air freshener, offering the floral scent of the potta trees. Light. Airy. They cleared the air of the heaviness of closed in spaces, dampness, and cold.
Akub let out a harsh snort against the gag. When she first arrived last evening, she’d been too nervous to take in the knight’s living space, but now, she noted Zykeiah’s neat and orderly lifestyle. Her weapons and favorite pouches were grouped in a corner. Nothing was out of place—each dagger, flower, and log had a resting place.
“Where’s the orb?” Zykeiah asked.
Marion answered. “Octiva has it now. She and Sarah are restoring Momma to flesh.”
Akub groaned. The orb! She realized her cloak’s pocket had been emptied and all her efforts had gone to waste. While unconscious, she’d been robbed!
“Thief!” she shouted, but it only came out as a gargled noise.
Zykeiah glared. “Silence!”
At this the door wrenched open and in walked the younger knight in question, Kalah, his face a canvas of aggravation. “Somehow we’ve all ended up here. I don’t know why I have to be here. It’s too early in the morn.” And then to Akub, “Why isn’t she dead?”
Zykeiah nodded as she agreed.
Akub had risked everything and done all the oracle had instructed. Her life now appeared to be forfeit, but she’d do whatever she had to do. She trusted the goddess. If the supreme had cause to end her life, to snip its thread, then so be it.
The door wrenched open again, and in walked Sarah, her dark hair spiraling in curls to her waist. The leather pants skimmed full hips, but like Zykeiah, she wore fur-trimmed boots. She came right up to Akub. Almost the same height, she leaned in close to Akub’s face. Sarah’s dark green eyes narrowed. Bruising and scratches marred her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.
Anger wafted off her, too, and not for the first time Akub found all the knights to be very sore losers. The princess didn’t enjoy their little tussle in the queen’s bedchambers. Fury burned in her eyes.
Akub would’ve grinned if not for the gag.
Those were Devourer thoughts, and Akub pushed them away. She didn’t really enjoy what she had done, but to negate that she had been able to best them, something few others had been able to do, well, she did smile in pleasure.
“Sarah, what of the queen?” Marion came to her and gently drew her away from Akub.
As if waking from a dream, Sarah blinked and allowed herself to be led. “Yes. Octiva and I were able to restore her to flesh, as she once did for you with the Bandon root.” Her ire at Akub seeped through each word. “But you…”
“Live…” came still another voice as an elderly woman with tapered ears walked into the room. “As does the queen. The goddess heals all.”
How many others would squeeze into this tiny space?
Even as Akub watched her, the woman’s old and sour face changed to that of a mid-life woman. Pointed ears arced upward into a thatch of grayed, locked hair. She seemed to float across the floor as the knights parted to allow her further entry. Her countenance softened, and she walked directly to Akub. A hushed reverence—or fear—fell over the now crowded room.
This woman probably frightened most people, for she wore the markings of an Ana elder. The purplish marks covered her hands, her face, and stood out against the darkness of her skin. The others’ reluctance had nothing to do with the elder’s tattooed magick along her skin. No. The power radiated from her in such thickness, Akub could touch it. She wasn’t sure if people moved from the elder’s path by their choice or by the sheer force of her magick.
Akub had only felt that dense power one other time in her life—Manola.
Unlike that fixture of evil, this woman held warmth, and despite being bound, Akub relaxed.
“No one summoned you, Octiva,” Kalah muttered, bitterness and indignation pouring from his body language.
Still unimpressed with the younger prince, Akub returned her attention to the elder. So this was Octiva, the source of heated debate.
“I am Octiva, Ana priestess and servant of the queen.” She stood rigid and regal. What little magick Akub had remaining flattened, suppressed since the elder’s arrival.
Akub gurgled a greeting. Habit. So accustomed to speaking and having the freedom to do so, she couldn’t stop from replying when the elder addressed her. As the Devourer, she’d been tortured, imprisoned, and hunted, but somehow being silenced hurt more than all the physical torments of her past put together. The loss of her voice meant the loss of her power.
She also couldn’t understand why the elder had come to her, greeted her, except to harm her. Perhaps this was how they handled j
udgments on Veloris. Every kingdom was different. Her markers attested to that.
“Remove her gag and release her.” Octiva gestured with the sweep of her hand.
Sarah scoffed, with her arms akimbo, and shook her head. The others didn’t move, but they all started talking at once.
“You don’t command us.” Kalah stepped forward, his face a mash of fury. “You’re a servant.”
“Kalah!” Sarah rebuked him as he jerked away. “You know as well as I…”
“We cannot allow a servant to dictate a matter such as this! This woman snatched the soul of the queen. My momma. If we do not set a firm, strong example, others may feel inclined to do the same. Those of Saturn Four lurk among our own disgruntled people. How do we know she isn’t aligned with one of the merchants?”
“We are all servants to Fate as written by the Goddess Ana,” Octiva replied, but she didn’t speak to him. The words had been meant for Akub.
Marion took Sarah into his arms, but she shook him off. “Kalah speaks true. We must present a strong front.”
Octiva went to Akub and released her gag. It fell in a hush to the floor.
“Aye, he does,” Zykeiah sat down on the rug. A dagger rotated in slow circles.
“Fate is a belief, a concept crafted by priestesses and elders,” Kalah said. “It doesn’t make policy for the throne.”
Sarah burnt the ropes. They fell to ground as ashes. With a dry throat, Akub coughed before she formed words. Her throat pulsed in time to the throbbing in her wrists and her ankles.
“It’s only Fate that I’m here,” Akub interjected.
“Always the obedient one, yes, Lady Sarah?” Kalah made a frustrated noise.
“Obedience brings us closer to the goddess. It’s she that I obeyed,” Sarah answered as she came from around and stood beside Octiva.
“No matter. Bound or not, she’s no threat. Akub’s a one-trick danker,” Zykeiah said.
Akub focused her attention on Octiva and spoke. “You have my gratitude. I know what I have done is inexcusable. As I tried to tell Zykeiah before, I obeyed the goddess’s bidding. The oracle spoke to me, and I answered. All of Veloris would be destroyed. I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen. Just as Lady Sarah said, I obeyed the goddess.”
“You can’t hold me responsible for not trusting your word, Devourer,” Zykeiah remarked. “Your reputation…”
“No. I cannot,” Akub agreed.
Octiva folded her arms into the sleeves of her cloak. “You speak of a vision, of prophecy. Speak and enlighten.”
“You’re not going to believe this gobhosh?” Zykeiah rose from the floor, her face pinched in disbelief. “She devours truth!”
The elder raised her hand, and the room fell silent. Zykeiah opened her mouth to argue but shut it without speaking. Akub couldn’t tell if the elder had quieted the room with magick or fear. The effects were the same.
“The Antiqk Oracle's prophecies are never good, but I have felt nothing from the goddess. Not even a whisper…” Sarah said to the elder. “Nothing.”
“I ask the Devourer.” Octiva’s voice drifted soft above Sarah’s words.
Sarah halted in her tracks. “I see. The oracle would give vision to a weaver and not a priestess.”
“Temper gets you into trouble. Pride keeps you there, Sarah.” Octiva turned her attention back to Akub.
“I heard the goddess’s voice on Saturn Four while in deep meditation in the temple. She spoke to me and showed me the destruction of the royal family and of Veloris. I haven’t been on the ice planet, but I recognized Zykeiah. I had to get her, because…” Akub stopped herself from saying more.
She couldn’t explain how she feared for her ex-lover’s death and had come to save not only her, but the planet. Not to this crowd. Besides, Zykeiah would probably kill her if she uttered such a thing, despite it being truth.
“Continue,” Octiva encouraged.
Akub bit her lip. “That’s all.”
Before anyone else spoke, Zykeiah pushed by Kalah and marched up to her. “And soul snatching was how you meant to stop the destruction of our kingdom? Stealing our queen? Death to prevent death?”
“I didn’t kill the queen, did I? I only snatched her soul to protect her! To keep her safe.” Akub heard the weakness in her tone, but it held truth.
“It does not matter. We cannot allow her to just leave.” Marion turned away from the fire.
“Marion’s right. She cannot be allowed to leave here without consequence. To do so is a sign of weakness and encouragement for future attacks.” Zykeiah looked away, her face grim.
Marion walked up to Akub. She couldn’t read his expression, but his face remained stoic. “Kalah and Zykeiah, escort her to the holding cells.”
Octiva watched Akub with soft, looming eyes. “They will need you, Devourer.”
6
Awakenings
Not far from the central bath quarters, the holding cells—rectangular, closet-size rooms, three in all—existed in noise and the chaotic pounding of construction. Farther down the hallway and around the corner, the renovations of the grand quarters of Marion and Sarah were underway. Akub had heard Kalah discussing it with Zykeiah. The couple expanded their living space to accommodate future children.
“Get in there.” Zykeiah pushed her through as she opened the cell’s iron gate. From a ring of metal keys, she used one to lock her in. “This is too kind for you. You ought to die.”
Akub flinched but tried to understand the anger and hurt behind those words. She sat down on the stone bench that had been carved from the castle’s walls. A bucket sat in the corner, and the bars held a rectangular space wide enough for food bowls. Akub had seen these types of harsh conditions for prisoners. That was her role, her title. Yet titles were made for removal.
So exhausted Akub could sleep like the dead, but she drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them close.
Kalah gestured to Zykeiah for the keys, and she passed them to him without looking. “Let’s go, Zy. If we hurry, we can actually get morning meals while it’s still hot. Toran, that bastard head cook, brought a pig from Saturn Four.”
Zykeiah numbly nodded. He waited, tapping the ring of keys against his thigh.
“Fine. Suit yourself.” Kalah turned on his heel and left.
“I’m sorry,” Akub sighed.
“Why? Why here? I was fine before you showed up last evening, ruining my joy, resurrecting all of this. To add further insult, you kidnap our queen?”
Zykeiah took a deep breath, gripped two of the iron bars and slowly let it out as if strangling the iron instead of Akub’s neck made it better. Her hardened warrior fell to pieces, her whole body shook.
“I told you already. The oracle…”
“Not that again. For once, tell me the truth! Explain this to me. You’re always worming your way into others’ lives. I had expelled you from my life, almost from my heart, and now…” Zykeiah’s voice cracked, but it still held so much pain that it seeped out of her as if yanked by some unknown force and with great resistance.
Anguish, not anger, now blanketed those words. Here. Now. Zykeiah exposed her true hurt, and it plunged into Akub’s heart like a knife. The knowledge that she had caused so much grief tore through her. Akub stood up and went to her. She couldn’t help it. The blinding urge to hug her close, to kiss her, to comfort her and tell her all would be well overwhelmed her.
“Zy, please. I came here because the oracle said you’d be destroyed. I couldn’t bear that. Not when I could…”
“You weave lies! Devourer of truth!” Zykeiah shouted, tears gathered in her eyes.
Akub stumbled backward and tripped over her feet, nearly falling to the ground. But she caught herself and, visibly shaken, regained her balance. The rawness clawed at her, but with the bars between them, she couldn’t comfort her in her arms like she wanted.
“Zy, I…” Akub’s throat burned with emotion.
“Stop! Just stop!” Zykeiah backe
d away from the cell.
They both became quiet as the crushing of stone began again. Construction had resumed on Sarah and Marion’s new quarters, silencing them. The smashing of a blacksmith’s sledgehammer and the whirling of stone cutting-blades eliminated any chance of talking further.
Weak, exhaustion racking her body, famished for lack of food, Akub’s world swirled until she could stand no longer. She reached out for the bars to stop her fall but missed.
She looked at Zykeiah, saw her mouthing words, pantomiming, but couldn’t make out what she was saying. Fear had edged itself into her face, and she banged on the bars. After a few minutes, she stepped hastily away, before finally stalking down the hall at breakneck pace.
Akub groaned. Now, she’d done it. She’d managed to chase Zykeiah off. She wished she could have heard what Zykeiah said, but somehow her ears had stopped working. No trace of magick hung in the air, but when she tried to push herself up, she found her arms lacked strength.
The floor felt so cold. So very icy. No fireplaces or hearths warmed the hall or the cells. She should get up or her skin would freeze against the surface. She struggled to push herself to an upright position but only managed to roll onto her back.
In moments, everything became black.
* * *
“Akub. Akub, wake up.” The voice penetrated a blank and deep sleep.
She opened her eyes and at once recognized Octiva. She also noticed that she wasn’t in the cold holding cells. Her shoulders ached, and her body was stiff.
“Where am I?” Akub sat up in a bed. Candlelight illuminated the room. The wooden walls held little decoration.
“Eat.” Octiva handed her a bowl filled with fresh greens, roasted henckens, hota juice, and a section of warm bread.
The warm food smelled delicious, and Akub began eating, using the greens to pinch meat off the henckens’ bones. When the greens were devoured, she used the bread to sop the grease. She had barely started before she found the bowl empty.
“You are starving.” Octiva took the bowl with a soft grin. "Here, Kanton! Refill this before evening meals end."
Devourer: A Minister Knight Novel (The Minister Knights Series Book 2) Page 5