by K. F. Breene
“Ah. Here she is!” A short, bald man rose from a small chair in the corner of a spacious room—for a castle, at least. Some distance away, set against the far wall, was a large, heavily worked wooden chair. A red rug cut through the middle of the room, leading to the chair, as though for peasants to pay homage to the king.
“Yes, you have noticed the focal point of the room. Gaudy, isn’t it?” The man, Xandre, the most ruthless tyrant the land had ever known, smiled and clasped his hands in front of him. He wore similar clothing to what she did, bare-footed.
“Is this language okay?” He pointed to his mouth. “You are mated, or soon to be mated, with the captain of the Westwood Lands, are you not? So you must be accustomed to this language by now. Or should we speak in your native tongue? I didn’t want to presume…”
“A neutral language is fine.” She stared into the blue eyes of a seemingly ordinary man. Slightly thick around the middle and narrow-shouldered, he was not accustomed to fighting. She’d never heard that he had the Gift, so it was a mystery how he could control men like One. More so the Inkna. Why hadn’t anyone overthrown him?
“Would you like to sit?” he asked, holding his hand, palm up, toward a cushioned chair near where he’d been sitting. “Or we could go outside. There is a wonderful view. You will love it.”
“Why am I here?” she asked, trying to get her bearings. This meeting was expected—meeting like this was not.
“Come.” He motioned everyone out into the bright sunshine. Around the other side of the castle were seats and sunshades, looking out over the water. “Sit. Please. One, send for the meal. We’ll have it here.”
“Yes, master,” One said in a near-perfect accent. He offered a slight bow and excused himself.
Before she could snap Xandre’s neck, two Inkna in white shirts stepped into view.
“You see them, then.” Xandre sat and crossed an ankle over his knee. “It is such a vulgar thing to bring up.” He dropped into a farcical voice. “Just so you know, I have two master executioners ready to torture your brain if you try to kill me.” Xandre shook his head and waved his hand. The Inkna disappeared from sight. “I hate them. I must be honest. I really abhor the whole group of people. But they are necessary.”
“Why am I here, Xandre?”
He tsked. “I’m afraid I must insist on you calling me Being Supreme. Titles really make the man with these types of people.”
“There is no way you think I’ll call you Being Supreme. Let’s not fool each other.”
Xandre giggled, almost like a child. “True. I had hoped. No matter.”
Inner Circle members came in a stream, carrying trays of meats and cheeses. Bread and beverages were delivered last, set out in a decadent way.
“The cheese is going to melt out here,” Shanti said, feeling the pang of hunger.
“Some melt inside as well, yes. It is a softer cheese, though. You’ll love it.”
“It gives me gas.”
“Ah!” He laughed. “You are pulling my leg. It does not give you gas. I have that on good authority. You often eat cheese. And occasionally drink cow’s milk, yes? Though only if there is nothing else, as often there isn’t in some parts of the land. ‘Filthy animals,’ you call them, right? Or was that your horse? I forget.”
Shanti made sure the surprise didn’t show on her face. It was as Sanders had thought after Daniels’ death—Xandre had someone within Cayan’s faction relaying information to him. He had to.
She wondered why Rohnan hadn’t been able to find out who. He’d been checking each person in the army at various times, looking for anyone who might not be honest. He’d turned up empty.
Tac took a seat removed from them and bent to his book. One took residence behind their chairs with his hands clasped behind his back. Everyone else cleared away, leaving her in a faux-intimate conversation with someone she hated more than anything else in the world.
“I’ll ask again, Xandre, and if you don’t answer, I’ll try to kill you just for something to do. Why am I here?”
“So violent. So beautiful. You truly are a lovely creature, Shanti Cu-Hoi. Truly.” Before she could grab his throat, just to see how hard she could squeeze before the Inkna or One reacted, he held up a hand. “You really would try to kill me and suffer the pain that would come. I did not think you were as mindless as my Inner Circle.”
One shifted slightly.
Shanti cocked her head. “Huh. It seems you do have a Gift after all. Things make much more sense now.” She smiled. “It is not mindless; it is lack of fear. Sometimes, to fill the gaps in annoying conversations, we simply want to choke someone. Isn’t that right, One?”
“You will not turn him to your side,” Xandre said pleasantly. His eyes darkened, giving him away.
Her smile burned brighter. Thanks to Burson, she knew how his talent worked. She knew any tiny action created flutters of paths that could lead to the same thing, or hundreds of different things. Looking around, she saw the fastidious control he employed. The trays were placed just so. The tables, the chairs—everything was laid out in perfect order. He went by titles, to distance people, and stayed away from the majority of his force, always moving, surrounded by his Inner Circle, a guard that didn’t change.
“I bet you have a bunch of rules.” She stood and walked toward the cliff. “You keep everything contained. You try not to allow chaos near you to cut down on the number of possible outcomes.” She turned back to face them. Tightness had worked into Xandre’s shoulders. “Do they know?” She nodded toward One.
“You are here because I could not pin you down. You are an amazing creature, who—”
“Stop with the flattery. It’s annoying.” She waved him away before wandering to Tac. On impulse, she grabbed his book—“Don’t!” Xandre said—and threw it. The pages fluttered in a goodbye as it flew over the cliff.
Anger flared in Tac’s eyes as he looked up. She remembered that rage, from somewhere down really deep. He seemed cool on the surface, but Sanders had gotten to him. Had pulled out the fire buried within.
She smiled down, but spoke to Xandre. “I am your worst nightmare. I don’t do anything normally. Cayan will tell you. I choose paths that most people don’t even think of. Wouldn’t think of, because they are insane. You’ll keep up for a while, but soon all the various outcomes will converge, and you’ll have no idea what will happen next.”
“Exactly. All the paths will converge into blackness. My question is…” Xandre, relaxed again, reached forward and grabbed a piece of bread. He smeared cheese on it and sat back. “Who will finally win?”
Shanti must’ve been back on the “known quantity” path when she made herself a plate and sat back gratefully. “That is a great question. At the moment, I am completely outnumbered. So I guess it depends on when you want to try to kill me.”
“I won’t be killing you.”
“Oh? Then you’ll loan me out to your men for sport? Isn’t that what battle leaders in your position do?”
Xandre grimaced. “What must you think of me? How barbaric. Besides, you’d only kill them. Men lose all traces of thought when they give in to lust. Women, on the other hand, often hold a little back for just the right moment, and stick their knife in unsuspecting ribs.”
“Had a narrow escape, did you?” Shanti tried the cheese, which was surprisingly delicious. “I sure hope this isn’t drugged or poisoned.”
“Again, what must you think of me? I spend nearly a lifetime getting you here, and you think I’ll resort to tricks to kill you? No. I think if we communicate, openly, we can come to some discourse. Our problem is simply a confused past.”
Shanti accidentally broke her cracker between her fingers. “Killing my people was a spot of confusion, was it?”
“The outcome was unfortunate, but I think if you see…”
“You’ve stopped talking because you’ve realized the likelihood of my getting extremely angry and trying to kill you is high, right?”
&nbs
p; He spread cheese on another piece of toast.
“The thing is, you’re afraid of pain,” she said with her mouth full of cheese, just to annoy him. “You’re afraid of me trying to choke the life out of you, even though One would stop me before I could, not to mention the Inkna. But you’re still scared of the pain and fear that would come from me launching myself at you.” Xandre’s jaw clenched. A vein in this temple pulsed. She was getting to him. “One is not afraid, you can bet. I wonder why he listens to you?”
“Who would he listen to, if not me?” Xandre squinted and tilted his head. “There is one person who opposes me. Who has failed to succumb to my leadership. That is you. And here you are, imprisoned. You are at my mercy. He is at my mercy. The whole land is at my mercy. If he killed me, the Inkna would kill him and try to take over. They would, of course, die by your hand. Or someone else with mind power. I am the only thing holding all of this together, and I do it with brainpower no one in this land can match. That is why he listens to me. Why they all do. Why you will.”
“Wow. Such a big ego in such a tiny body.” Shanti bit into her bread, grinning into his angry stare. An unhinged stare. The cracks in his calm demeanor were showing.
“You will see reason,” he said, and took a sip of his drink. He was visibly trying to calm down. “This will be helped, of course, by your loved ones coming for you. As you watch them die, you’ll be much more willing to make a deal.”
“Is it exhausting thinking so little of everyone else, or does it make you feel righteous?”
He put the drink down slowly. “Why did you not try to kill Tac and then One? I expected that.”
“I thought about it, but if I had, then what?”
He stared at her, waiting.
“You really do think you’re much smarter than everyone else. How annoying.” She turned in her seat to look at One, who was watching her. “Is that not horribly annoying? I’d punch him in the gullet if I were you. Seriously.”
One’s face didn’t change. The good little fighter.
“Maybe he is afraid of you,” Shanti said, turning back. “Anyway, if I killed him—easy with Tac gone—I’d need to get out of here. My legs are weak, I’m in a sheet of some sort, I have no shoes, and no idea where I am. Two master executioners wouldn’t keep me for long, but of course I assume you have more Inkna lurking around the place. They would bombard me with the Gift, and I’d run around, weaponless, no pants, trying to kill them. How long could I have possibly lasted if I made a mad attempt like that?”
“I don’t quite know how to take you, Shanti Cu-Hoi. You are so different in person than you were described. I am intrigued and disgusted at the same time. I’ve never felt this way before.”
“Well, don’t get attached. My goal in life is to kill you. That’s a pretty big shadow over our relationship.” Shanti finished off the morsels on her plate and put it back. “Where are my weapons?”
“In a safe place. I realize they mean something to you.”
“Yes. And my clothes?”
“They are being cleaned. I thought you’d be comfortable in that. Your people are no strangers to nudity, as are mine. We had a similar upbringing, you and I.”
“Except I bet a tyrant didn’t invade your village and kill your whole way of life, hmm? I bet we have that one difference.”
“I think you’ll find that we have more similarities than differences.” He smiled benignly.
She punched him.
As her fist smacked against his mouth, she felt strong hands on her shoulders, ripping her away. She lifted her hands and let out a delighted laugh, even as One tossed her onto the ground and stood between them. No pain came from the Inkna.
“I yield,” she said, smiling over Xandre’s split lower lip. “What happened there, Xandre? Did my impulse move faster than your Gift?”
Xandre’s face had drained of color. He grabbed a cloth from the table and dabbed his lower lip, bringing it away to look at it. His eyes trained on the blood before red rushed into his cheeks. Anger.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered the cloth. His eyes bored into Shanti. “You are playing a very dangerous game, girl.”
“You see, that is where you’re wrong. I have never been playing a game. I have been fighting for survival. Against you. We aren’t friends, and we’ll never be allies, Xandre. This will end one of two ways: I will kill you, or you will make someone kill me.” She rose. One let her. “Are we done here?”
“Your friends are probably almost at the edge of the swamp by now, assuming they could follow you at all. I wonder who will die first…”
“Always with the superiority complex.” Shanti shook her head, feeling reckless. “That is the problem with men like you—you are so busy thinking highly of yourself, you fail to really see the world around you.”
She took a step toward One, needing to fight out some of her fear and anger. Needing to release. She also needed to see where her body was in terms of recovery from whatever they’d given her. It was a benefit that this loss, one she wouldn’t have to guarantee if he was half as good as she suspected, would confirm in his mind that he was better. She doubted Xandre was the only one with a superiority complex.
“There is no point in trying,” Xandre said. “He will beat you.”
One’s eyes glimmered, excitement flaring.
“Yes, he will. Don’t tell him my first move, though. It’ll spoil the fun.”
12
“How is the captain ever going to get through that maze?” Xavier asked, hunched near the castle wall and looking out over the swampland below.
Marc was staring at it too. They’d followed the Graygual along a path that seemed mostly benign until the light of day, and then realized they should’ve left hints or discarded items for the captain to follow. The area was a mess of tall reeds, deceptive grasses, and soggy land, the trail they’d followed last night easily blending into everything else.
Out of that sweltering bog rose the hill they were standing on, flattened at the top where the looming castle stood looking out over the sea. It was like the jutting rock had been put there by a divine hand, because no way did it appear natural. The location was perfect for defense. Too bad Xandre had the upper hand.
They’d gotten their horses up the hillside near dawn, after the Graygual were within the castle walls, and stashed them with the Graygual horses just outside the walls, which were crumbled and broken in more than one place. It would be easy to get back to them. Since most of the animals were from the same breeding lines, they blended in easily. Except for the Bastard. He wouldn’t stay with the other horses. Alexa solved the problem by giving him a swat to the rump and sending him neighing back toward the swamps. If the Graygual recognized him, they’d remember him as the wild horse from the city and might assume he’d followed S’am. He’d be brought to heel or left out in the reeds, slogging through murky water.
“There are Inkna here.” Alexa put her hand on the rough stone, one of the solid parts of an otherwise old and degrading wall surrounding the castle. It was afternoon, they’d rested as much as they could, and it was time for action. “A lot of them, and high-powered, from what I can tell. If the Inner Circle is gathered here then we’re sunk. If the man who deadens Gifts doesn’t do it, the Inkna will block my power. Then the Inner Circle will run us through with swords. None of us are any match for them. What good are we possibly going to do on our own?”
“This is why I’ve been harping on about a plan.” Rachie shook his head.
“Are you sure her premonition said to follow?” Xavier asked, staring at Marc intensely.
It wouldn’t do to say, “Mostly sure, yes.” That might not inspire the sort of confidence they needed.
“Yes. She said we had to follow, or S’am would die.” Marc nodded decisively. Because really, they were there now. The choice was made.
“Okay.” Xavier matched Marc’s nod. “Then we need to figure this out. What are the chances Inkna are monitoring inside the castle?�
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“Based on when the Hunter took over the Westwood Lands, the Inkna only monitored those they thought were a threat, right?” Ruisa scratched her cheek, clearly thinking.
“Alena would know,” Gracas said.
“Alena’s not here, you idiot.” Rachie rolled his eyes.
“Didn’t they mostly leave the women alone?” Ruisa looked around.
“I think so.” Leilius was still staring down at the swamplands.
“So, as long as we don’t raise suspicion, we’ll be fine.” Xavier didn’t look as confident as he sounded.
“What about the Inner Circle?” Alexa pressed.
“This is a castle.” Leilius turned and looked along the wall. “An old castle. There might be secret rooms and doors and corridors in it. If nothing else, there’ll be places to hide. Let’s sneak in, kill the man who keeps her Gift deadened, get her, and get back out. If we have to kill an Inner Circle guard, we’ll have to be sly about it.”
“See? That’s a plan.” Rachie motioned toward Leilius. “It is the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard, but it is a plan.”
“Got a better one?” Leilius scowled at him.
“Nope. Which is why we’ll follow that one and hopefully not die.” Rachie patted his sword, and then his knives. “I’m ready.”
“Let’s wait until nightfall.” Marc stared down at the swamp, hoping to see an army making their way through. That was ridiculous thinking, of course, because there was no way the captain could have gotten the entire camp packed and underway in so short of time.
Another thought occurred to him. “Does the captain even know Xandre is here?”
“He should. I wrote it all down.” Leilius looked up at the top of the wall. He slid his hands over the rough surface. “We dropped a couple of pieces of fabric, too. So he has that to follow.”
“Like I told you, there is no way he’ll see a couple of ripped pieces of your shirt hanging on the branch of a tree. Even if he does, why would he think they are yours?” Ruisa wiped her hand over her face. “I’m hungry.”