Illegal King

by Mason Dakota

  Rythe shook his head violently in disbelief and ran his hand multiple times through his silver mane. He suddenly snapped and leapt at Chamberlain. He got within inches of Chamberlain’s face, grabbed Chamberlain by the collar of his shirt, and shouted at the top of his lungs, “YOU LIE!!!”

  He struck Chamberlain across the jaw. The blow echoed loudly and must have stung, but it failed to remove the smile from Chamberlain’s face. Chamberlain knew he had won. Rythe struck him again…and again…and again in a fit of rage, but it never changed the truth and it never took away that smile. Emperor Rythe could torture Chamberlain and even kill him, but no amount of punishment could take this victory from Chamberlain.

  Rythe stumbled back, his knuckles red with blood. He wiped at his mouth with a rag. He turned to his guards and snapped, “Get them all out of my sight! Throw them in a truck and have them processed. The Illegal will be executed in the most gruesome and painful manner—PUBLICLY!”

  After that the Emperor charged out of the room in a fit with his entourage of guards on his heels. Nobody rushed to move immediately, still caught in their shocked trances. I sat there too stunned to decide on what to do or what question to ask first.

  My best friend, whose very existence went against the law, was the rightful heir to the throne.

  This changes everything.

  Eighty-Eight

  The soldiers rushed to follow orders. One by one we were released and forced to our feet to stand in a straight line. Nobles were in front. I led the Outcasts and Chamberlain stood at the rear—odd symbolism.

  They led us through the automatic doors and down more hallways. It seemed like an eternity as my mind pieced together this puzzle. To think that all of this had been arranged by the Emperor so he could have both a fall guy and justification to start a global war seemed so unbelievable.

  What was even more unbelievable was that the Illegal I grew up with and played stick ball with in the streets of Chicago happened to be the true heir to the throne. And to think he had kept this secret from me all these years! It was just too much to process. I worried my head would explode.

  Strangely enough, something did go boom.

  Suddenly the ground shook and dust fell from the ceiling. Alarms blared. Another explosion hit and then another. Lights flickered with each blast. A voice cracked over the intercom, “We are under attack! Nebula soldiers reported assaulting the building! Everyone to their stations!”

  They’ve come to avenge Gabriel.

  “Get these prisoners to the convoy immediately!” shouted one of the soldiers in the back of the line.

  A soldier grabbed me by the shirt collar and shoved me forward. We were forced from a slow walk to a jogging pace, which was rather painful and difficult with my injuries. Blasters and machine guns fired back and forth all throughout the compound, echoing through the hallways through I never saw any fighting. More explosions struck the building, shaking it to its foundation and coating us in dust and flickers of shadow as we stumbled forward.

  “Almost there!” shouted the soldier in front of the line.

  I honestly didn’t know if I were excited by that or terrified. I wondered if we should fight against our captors or continue to follow them. Nebula agents were as likely to kill us as the Imperial soldiers were.

  “They’re behind us,” shouted a soldier in the back. I turned my head around, trying to get a good view, but too many people were in the way for me to see. Some soldiers stopped and fired off blaster shots down the way we came from. We turned at a bend in the hallway and a soldier threw me around the corner into the backs of Thomas, Lorre, and Erikson.

  Immediately another explosion went off and the ceiling crumbled behind me. I was cut off from everyone else.

  “Griffon!” screamed Evelyn seconds before the ceiling fell. She had been right behind me before the ceiling collapsed. I didn’t see what happened to her.

  “EVELYN!!!” I screamed her name.

  It was a hopeless attempt to communicate given the mound of stone and rubble separating us. We couldn’t reach each other. I heard gunfire and more explosions from that side of the pile. I screamed, tears falling from my eyes, and lunged for the pile of rubble. I fell in a heap of painful injuries and splattered myself across the mess. I clawed at the stones with my bare hands, digging for my friends…for my love.

  This can’t be happening! This can’t be happening! They could be dying right now!

  Strong arms grabbed me and forcibly pulled me away. I screamed each of my friends’ names out. No answer came. Only gunfire answered.

  They dragged me around another bend and through a doorway. Cool crisp air kissed my neck just for a moment before they threw me into the back of an armored truck. Thomas, Lorre, and Erikson were already in the truck ahead of me. I hit the ground facing up with the breath knocked out of me.

  I had to go back and save my friends.

  Save Michael…

  …and Alison…

  …and Evelyn…

  …and Chamberlain.

  We were going to be imprisoned, but Rythe was going to kill Chamberlain. He was going to kill the Illegal King. I had to stop them.

  Chamberlain has to live! Adam can’t win again! He can’t take everything from me again—I can’t let him do that.

  I had to get out there. I had to do something. I had to act.

  Halfway up onto my feet, a soldier appeared before me. He lifted something up to my face that looked like a small aerosol can. With a push of his finger he sprayed some kind of gas in my face. My vision doubled and spun around before darkness flooded in. I don’t even remember falling back down before darkness took me.

  Eighty-Nine

  Soldiers threw Ziavir to his knees before Adam Rythe’s new throne in the Palace. The fresh stench of iron and blood filled the air. Fresh slaves—those who had surrendered to Adam—worked to remove the Palace’s corpses.

  The room was scorched by blaster fire. Splintered and shattered desks and chairs surrounded him. Papers coated the floor. Light poured down through holes in the walls and ceiling.

  Adam sat in the Emperor’s chair with the crown upon his head. He wore the Emperor’s ceremonial armor—the same armor Ziavir had last seen Bretton wear. A host of armed soldiers surrounded Adam and Ziavir.

  A young man, about Ziavir’s age, barked orders to slaves and other soldiers. Ziavir knew the young man, Sal. They had gone through basic training together. Their eyes met and Sal made a disgusted look at Ziavir, who only responded with a bowed head of defeat.

  I’m doing this for Alexandra, Angelia’s baby, and for the future of my people, Ziavir told himself. He kept repeating the mantra over and over in his mind. He had made a vow and he intended to keep it.

  “Ziavir Yiros,” said Adam Rythe. He spoke calmly and confidently. It was expected; he had won his victory and taken a throne. He was due to be a bit smug. “You, a close associate to our former Emperor, are accused of corruption and fleeing your post with suspicion of treason. What say you?”

  Accused of treason, by him? How ironic.

  “I made a vow to protect and serve Emperor Bretton,” whispered Ziavir.

  Adam stood and struck Ziavir across the face. As blows go, it wasn’t the worst Ziavir ever had. Adam’s men had already done a thorough job beating him.

  “You made a vow to the throne—not to a man! I now sit on that throne. Therefore, you have committed treason against my throne.”

  Ziavir didn’t say anything. Adam smirked. “My men say you turned yourself in. How should I interpret this?”

  “It is like you said. I made a vow. I live to serve this Empire. I will do whatever it takes to ensure it becomes what is best.”

  “I now determine what is best. Is that a problem?”

  “You are the one on the throne.”

  Adam scoffed and smiled. He settled back on to his throne. “The question now is what to do with you. Do you accept my right to rule? Will you submit yourself under me?”

 
It was never your right to rule. It never will be, Ziavir thought.

  He looked up into the face of Adam Rythe, the murderer of his beloved master, and the biggest threat to Angelia’s baby and the hope for the future. “I submit myself to the one with the right to rule.” Adam’s eyes squinted. The subtlety in Ziavir’s choice of words was not lost on Adam.

  “You were reported fleeing this Palace in the presence of a woman. Explain yourself.”

  “I was trying to save as many as I could.”

  “She was an Outcast, a slave within these walls. You were saving a dog. Surely you would have thought to try to save someone more significant.”

  “I believe everyone is significant.”

  Adam frowned. Ziavir had no doubts about Adam’s intelligence. He suspected something. It made Ziavir’s skin crawl with fear.

  “You are wrong to think those beings are on the same plane of humanity as us. We are humanity. They are the apes from which we evolved. It is time you learned to accept their lack of worth in this world,” Ziavir said.

  Ziavir bowed his head. “Yes, your Excellency.”

  Adam smiled. “Good.”

  “Am I to take it then that you do not wish to have me executed, sir?”

  “Not today, but that threat will always loom over you, should your actions or intentions be interpreted as treasonous.”

  Ziavir bowed his head again. “Yes, sir.”

  “As it stands, there is a job that requires your talents. The world thinks we’re weak in light of this time, but we will show them our might. Bretton used you to solidify the Northern Territory’s government and create a treaty between us. But I will use you to dismantle that treaty. I am putting you on a special task force assigned the responsibility of arresting their king, Damien Waters, and further dismantling those Giants from the inside out. We cannot risk another war upon our people. All measures must be taken now to insure peace. Is that a problem?”

  Ziavir swallowed. “No, sir.”

  “Good. You will be closely monitored. If I even suspect another act of treason, I will have you hanged outside these walls for all the world to see.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Adam smirked and waved a hand toward Sal. “Sergeant, I want you to send out my first decree as Emperor. It is to be recorded and established as law for the rest of this Empire’s history.”

  “Yes, sir.” said Sal as he pulled out a recording device.

  Adam looked at Ziavir and smiled. “Those abominations born of Nobles and Outcasts—those Illegals—must be exterminated. All of them. From hence forth, Illegals will be hunted down and killed, and anyone who parents or begets these abominations will also face execution. It will be the duty of all citizens to report on any existence of Illegals and help terminate them.”

  Ziavir gasped. Genocide! That’s his first order!

  Angelia! Alexandra!

  “Is that decree a problem with you, Mr. Yiros?”

  It was a test. One that would determine his survival. He wanted to scream. Red rage flared in his blood, and it took every bit of his training and willpower to keep it subdued.

  Play the long game, Ziavir. Have faith in Angelia—in Linda—and Alexandra. Light will return to this Empire in time.

  Ziavir shook his head and said, “Your word is law.”

  “Good. Now begone. You have much work to do. The safety and security of this Empire’s future rests on you, Ziavir Yiros. Do not disappoint me.”

  Ninety

  It was the beating of engine that woke me. The churning was slow and distant at first as my consciousness returned to me. I felt cold steel beneath me. I was strapped to the ground like some sort of luggage. I opened my eyes to find black velvet over my eyes and face.

  My body felt different and I quickly realized they put me under surgery at some point. My wounded leg and broken arm no longer remained in their damaged conditions. Both limbs were stiff and sore, but even the broken bones were healed with the Empire’s advanced medicine.

  I sensed more than felt the motion of descent. I was in some sort of aircraft and it was landing. There was a sudden bump and a harsh vibration through the floorboard. The aircraft rocked before the feeling of moving ceased. Doors opening and when someone loosened my bonds I was dragged me to my feet. Still keeping me blindfolded and handcuffed, someone led me forcibly off the aircraft toward something I couldn’t see.

  Terror rose in my chest. I didn’t know where I was or what I was walking into. But I knew I wasn’t in Chicago anymore.

  The farther we walked, the more…shouting I heard. People cursed and screamed and howled and rioted. Somewhere around me a large metal fence rattled violently as though several people, possibly the ones shouting and screaming like a mad army, shook it.

  Suddenly someone ripped the blindfold off me. I wished then my guide had kept the blindfold on me. I stood outside the walls surrounding a massive city which was definitely not Chicago. Dark buildings rose above the massive black wall. Their skeletal frames were draped in vines like trees in a jungle.

  “Where am I?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. This was the Grimway, a city once known as Manhattan—now the most dangerous prison city in the world filled with the deadliest and cruelest Nobles alive.

  “Shut up,” said a guard.

  “Where are my friends? Where are the Nobles who were with me?”

  “I gave you an order, Outcast!”

  I ignored him and looked around, trying to get a bearing for my location. I stood on a small helicopter pad, surrounded by icy water as far as the eye could see. Guards in black uniforms carrying assault rifles stood all around me. Directly ahead was a massive metal door. Slowly the door rose and a pair of guards pushed me against my will forward.

  The rattling and the shouting made sense in an instant. Before me lay a walkway paralleled on both sides by a two-story-high barbed wire fence. On the other side of both fences were countless Nobles in orange jumpsuits shouting curses and pounding their fists against the chain-linked fences in wild excitement. They looked at me like predators and howled like apes.

  “This prison is filled with serial killers and monsters. To them you’re fresh meat. They’re going to have fun with you!” shouted the guard next to me.

  You had to be the worst of the worst to be a Noble locked up in a prison city like this. To be here meant you were dangerous, uncontrollable, and psychotic. And now I was here, alone and defenseless.

  What have you gotten me into Gabriel!

  At the end of the long walk-way was a large metal hanger door. I knew my destination lay behind those walls and it terrified me. There my life would become a living hell. I stood there horrified, lost in the shouts and screams of bloodthirsty criminals wanting to take a crack at the new guy on the block.

  I was a tasty sheep among hungry wolves.

  “Move it prisoner,” shouted the guard next to me. I looked from him to the metal hanger door and swallowed, but I couldn’t move. The guard shoved me in the back. I stumbled forward, tripped, and hit the ground to a roar of laughter among all the convicts. Slowly I pushed myself back up and swallowed my pride. I walked forward, time stretching forever as one by one countless convicts cursed and threatened me. Ignoring them, I kept my expression hard, resilient, and unwavering.

  I would be the only Outcast in here. I had to survive. I had to escape. I had to find Chamberlain and make sure he became a King. I had to face Adam again. I had to kill an Emperor. None of that would happen if these monsters saw me as a sheep. I didn’t know if Thomas, Lorre, and Erikson were here. I might very well be alone in this jungle.

  But I certainly wasn’t going to be mistaken for a sheep.

  I approached the hanger door, thriving on a new wave of determination and strength. I will survive this, and I will make Adam regret everything he has done. I walked faster, growing more and more confident with every step. The hanger door opened, and suddenly all my strength and resolve vanished.

  On the other side was a s
ingle Noble. He stood tall and strong just a few inches above me with a lean muscular frame. His black hair was combed back, his smile was devilish, his hand was scarred by burns. Confidence wafted off him. I knew this man. He had haunted my nightmares for years. The only devil I feared.

  His name was Ziavir Yiros.

  “Hello, Griffon. Looks to me like we’re going to be cell mates.”

  Epigraph

  Thank you for reading this book!

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  Thanks again for reading and playing a small part in making my dreams come true!

  Acknowledgments

  It can seem like just because my name is on the cover that I worked alone in making this dream a reality. But the truth is that this book and every book I create is put together by a wonderful team who deserve recognition for their work in making this book a reality.

  I need to thank the many friends who allowed me to bounce my crazy theories and ideas off to make this story.

  I need to thank Jody Dyer at Crippled Beagle Publishing who worked as my editor for both Nobility and this book. Jody is a wonderful editor, full of character and talent, and was instrumental in turning my mess into something enjoyable to read.