The Immortal Walker

by McKellon Meyer

  “Imagine, getting to tell your grandchildren that you were there. The princess must be a nasty person to try and kill her own father.”

  “Poor king. He must have been devastated.”

  Kaislyn snorted. “Him?” she said as she passed the two gossipers. “He’s probably giggling with joy right about now.”

  She drew her cloak closer. Despite the early onslaught of spring, the air remained cool and Kaislyn was determined not to catch a cold on top of everything else that was coming her way.

  With so much attention on the city and the impending execution, it was not hard for Kaislyn to slip unnoticed into the palace. There were fewer guards and servants about, everyone distracted by preparations for the execution and mourning feast afterwards.

  She hurried through the hallways, tripped on the folds of her dress, and cursed. So much for vowing never to wear a dress again. Securing her cloak again, Kaislyn forced herself to a more sedate pace as she headed for Ikaros’ rooms. She thought of Sveka’s warning to her, so long ago now: “I will not have a thief for a daughter.”

  A smile curled around Kaislyn’s mouth. “Should have left me as one anyway. You and Da blew up canyons and assassinated lords. What kind of example does that set for a girl like me?”

  Kaislyn started humming to herself.

  Bad sign, girl, humming.

  Kaislyn hummed louder.

  The square in front of the temple was cradled on one of the lower, if widest, hills of the city proper. The temple gates gaped open and ready for any spectators who, spurred by a guilty conscious, wished to make an offering after the execution. The surrounding buildings’ rooftops were crammed with more spectators. Newly constructed, elevated benches ran along one side of the square. These were packed with nobles and high-ranking officials. They looked more apprehensive and worried than the rest of the crowds.

  A scaffold rose near the middle of the square. In the center of it was a large stone block. Two guards in formal red and black uniforms stood on either side of the stone, waiting. More guards formed a barrier against the crowd, creating a wide, clear path from the scaffold back to the temple, presumably where the prisoner was being kept. Another row of guards kept a different path clear on the other side of the scaffold, leading to a large dais with an empty, gilded chair that would afford an unobstructed view of the proceedings.

  It’d taken Kaislyn a long time to edge around the crowd to the temple entrance, ducking and hiding repeatedly to avoid a passing guard or official’s notice. It took even longer to get those around her to start a scuffle large enough to distract the nearest guards so she could slip inside the temple courtyard unnoticed. Now, she crouched behind a statue of Ikaros, one of a pair, each with a hand benignly raised in blessing, flanking the gates of the temple. With her small size it was easy to slide around the base of the statue and crouch in the hollowed groove between statue and wall.

  A horn sounded from somewhere behind Kaislyn in the temple. The assembled crowd shifted excitedly, their buzzing murmur dropped. Kaislyn crouched lower into the shadows as ceremonial guards, swords drawn and held before them, marched past her. Behind them glided the phoenix. Flames dripped lazily from its wings, twisting for a moment in the air before dying in faint coils of smoke.

  Kaislyn peered cautiously around her statue as the phoenix settled on the back of the empty throne. It turned a knobby head to look across the square. The crowd hushed at the sight of the magnificent bird. The phoenix’s head tilted to the side and for a moment Kaislyn thought it was looking straight at her before it straightened again with a ruffle of its wings. More flames dripped through the air, vanishing before hitting the dais.

  Another blast of the deep horn. The crowd’s noise level rose again, impatient. They strained forward, searching. Kaislyn waited until the hem of the black robe disappeared in front of her before peeking again.

  Ikaros walked alone, but he didn’t need an escort to be impressive. He wore a silk robe heavily embroidered with intertwined birds and snakes. The robe sparkled gold and black against the sunlight. Gold-sandaled feet slapped against the ground. Gold anklets. Gold earrings. A gold crown tucked around the thick, black hair of his head.

  The crowd hushed into silence as he passed. Even the guards drew back a little. Ikaros climbed the steps to the dais and turned. He looked out over the silent crowd, smiled, and raised a hand in greeting.

  The crowd roared their approval. Ikaros dropped his hand and sat on his throne. The phoenix straightened, spreading its enormous wings, framing Ikaros for a moment in a blaze of red, wreathing him in a burst of flames, before resettling. The crowd quieted into an awed buzz.

  “You’re both show-offs,” Kaislyn muttered.

  Ikaros inclined his head. “Bring forth the traitors.”

  Plural? Kaislyn watched as four men she’d never seen before were escorted past her. They were not bound and walked steadily through the jeering crowd and up the steps of the scaffold where they were lined up in a row behind the stone block. Their clothes were rumpled and stained, their faces covered in thick stubble.

  A herald clothed in brown and gold followed them. He marched to stand in front of the block and began to recite their crimes. Treason against the Phoenix King... conspirators of the princess... Kaislyn stopped listening. These must be a few of the supporters Athalia had in Ikaros’ court.

  She eyed the man in the middle. Tall, well built, with slightly curling brown hair. She was willing to bet that one was Lord Fen, Athalia’s most devoted supporter.

  Lover, girl.

  Close enough.

  Was Ikaros going to execute them now? If it was her, she would have brought Athalia out and made her watch first...

  “Bring out the traitor of my blood,” Ikaros ordered when the herald had finished.

  “Ah. We do think alike after all,” Kaislyn said, pleased.

  Girl, that’s not a good thing.

  Athalia was escorted by four guards with drawn swords. Unlike the male prisoners, she’d been given access to a bath. She wore a pristine, sleeveless white robe beneath a red cloak. Her hair had been arranged in a complex pattern on top of her head. Ruby bracelets slid along her arms and her feet were bare.

  Dressed like the priests who made their bloody sacrifices, Kaislyn thought with disgust.

  When was she going to destroy them?

  Kaislyn crept forward from her hiding place to better see the crowd’s reaction to Athalia’s entrance.

  They surged forward, hissing.

  Ikaros watched for a moment, then stood, raising his hand again. The crowd noticed and hesitated. “Do not cause me more pain than what is to come,” he cried to the seething crowd. “It is enough I must do this. Watch and witness with me, but do not scorn the traitor of my blood while I am here.”

  Kaislyn rolled her eyes, but the crowd subsided into a wrathful murmur against the vile princess.

  Athalia was led up the steps and placed at a corner of the scaffold, away from the other prisoners but with a clear view of the block and the executions.

  The herald stepped forward again and began to recite charges again.

  “No.” The word was loud and calm.

  The herald broke off.

  Athalia’s face was cool, if as white as her dress. She continued: “All know why I am here. If I am to be accused one last time, let it be from the lips of my father the king. My death is in his hands, and on his head.”

  The herald looked to Ikaros for direction.

  He stared at Athalia, his eyes unfocused for a long moment. Kaislyn saw the brief flash of contempt before it disappeared behind a weary, sad face. He rose to his feet again. “In this last request will I honor you, though you have done little to honor me. I, Ikaros, Phoenix King of these Five Ruling Cities accuse you of high treason. You are charged with plotting against my person with low, vile assassins to murder me and take these Five Ruling Cities for yourself. Your death will be by beheading today in this square.” His voice shook.

 
; The crowd heard it and responded with boos for Athalia and cries of sympathy for the king.

  Kaislyn tapped her lips thoughtfully. The strain in his voice was much more pronounced. He was hardly holding it together. Tremors of guilt over what he was actually going to do, or relief that soon he wouldn’t have to hide so hard anymore from his own insanity? With no heirs and no other blood kin remaining he would be heir to himself. Undisputed, unquestioned, unstoppable.

  Until now.

  She grinned.

  Ikaros sank back into his chair. “Begin this unhappy day,” he said.

  “Oh, he’s even more dramatic than I am,” Kaislyn laughed as a guard gestured the first man forward.

  She rose from the hiding place and walked into the open. The unexpected addition of a person coming from the temple immediately drew attention. Ikaros straightened in his chair.

  Kaislyn pushed the hood back from her cloak and looked across the wide space to Ikaros. Keeping her green gaze fixed on his narrowing black one, she let her cloak fall to the ground and stepped primly away from the discarded folds.

  Ikaros’ eyes widened.

  Kaislyn spared a quick look for Athalia. The princess’s face was as rigid with astonishment as Ikaros’, making Kaislyn’s costume choice well worth the effort of making it. She’d dressed in a long-sleeved, skin-tight black dress that flared out below her hips, allowing for more freedom of movement. The dress had identical embroidery to that on Ikaros’ robes and she wore matching gold sandals on her feet.

  Kaislyn pushed a few short strands of hair out of her eyes. Gold bracelets slid up her arms, clinking loudly. The heavy bracelets were from Ikaros’ own private jewelry boxes. His earrings made her earlobes droop. Only her necklace of charms remained unchanged.

  Ikaros’ throat worked silently.

  “Making a final sacrifice to the gods, Ikaros? Do you plead with them to let you remain king? An immortal Phoenix King to rule over the Five Cities forever?” Her voice carried easily over the suddenly silent crowd.

  Ikaros flinched at her words, but rose with deliberate slowness from his chair.

  She sauntered along the cleared lanes as the guards drew even further back from her than they had for Ikaros to halt in front of the scaffold. She ignored those on it, keeping her attention on Ikaros. She had to tilt her head back a little which made it ache.

  “What a disappointment for you this must be! Instead of them, you get me. And I am not placated nor satisfied. I am done with you.”

  Ikaros straightened and took a step toward her, away from his throne. The phoenix shifted restlessly behind him. “That’s it?” he sneered. “You lurk in the shadows and then prance out dressed... dressed...” he trailed off furiously.

  Kaislyn batted her eyes at him. “Do you like my perfume, darling? I picked it especially for you.”

  His face turned red and his voice shook even more than it did earlier when he finally spoke again. “What do you hope to accomplish with this little stunt? Do you return to die with your traitorous partners after cowardly fleeing your fate once before?”

  Kaislyn rolled her eyes which made Ikaros’ face turn white and a vein to stand out in his neck. “You sound like an idiot when you talk like that. I would not recommend executing me. It won’t go very well for you.”

  Ikaros laughed and gestured at the unmoving crowd. Even the wind had vanished, making Ikaros and Kaislyn the only two moving creatures in the entire packed square. “Fool girl. It would have been better for you to have smuggled some pathetic little assassins into the crowd instead of this arrogant stupidity.”

  “Why would an assassin be pathetic unless you had no reason to fear death?” Kaislyn inquired.

  Ikaros’ jaw tightened. “Seize the traitorous, would-be assassin. She can die first.”

  The phoenix dipped its head in agreement.

  In the mountains, it was only ever just her and Ikaros. The two of them mocking each other, killing each other, infuriating each other. Unusually in that order. It wasn’t any different here. Except Ikaros had the phoenix on his side. He had won before they’d even started their endless game.

  Kaislyn eyed the bird. It sat tall on the back of the throne. Head held high, it turned every which way, catching the slightest movement in the square with quick intensity. Clearly aware of its own impressiveness, the phoenix was proud and vain. It was as susceptible to grandiosity as she and Ikaros were.

  Ikaros had the phoenix but she had the crowd. She had hundreds of witnesses to Ikaros’ unraveling madness. How long would the phoenix endure the public humiliation of its master? At what point would it abandon Ikaros to protect its own reputation? Ikaros was going to lose everything, starting with his own, shaky self-control. And Kaislyn was very good at destroying that.

  She arched her eyebrows and bowed. “Far be it for me to defy the commands of the would-be Immortal Phoenix King,” she drawled.

  “Grab her!” Ikaros cried, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

  Kaislyn grinned. She almost had the familiar, mad sorcerer on his mountain.

  Almost.

  She turned to the nearest guards. “Did you not hear your king? He wants you to grab me and take me up those steps to be executed. If you would be so kind as to oblige him?”

  A guard approached in jerking steps and made a half-hearted attempt to take her arm.

  Interesting, she thought. They were already unnerved by her performance and she hadn’t done anything but mock Ikaros.

  She was marched up the steps and onto the scaffold.

  “That’s it?” Athalia hissed as Kaislyn passed her. “You stupid girl! This isn’t a little poisoned meal anymore. Do you seek my eternal gratitude by dying with me? What do you think you’re doing?”

  Kaislyn didn’t look away from Ikaros as she answered. “I am taking away his precious little cities.”She raised her voice. “Do I not get a recitation of my own charges, Ikaros? Or perhaps you would like me to recite them for you and save you the trouble?”

  She stepped up to the execution block and used the guard’s arm for balance while she climbed on top of it. She surveyed the crowd. They watched her. She could see their curiosity. See them wondering what was going to happen next.

  “I am the only child of the Son Slayer and the Snake Tamer. I am the god of the Mountains. I decide who rules in these Five Cities! The Demon King fears me. The Sorcerer runs from me. I am the assassin of Ikaros, Phoenix King of the Five Ruling Cities and a madman! The charge against me is simple: I am taking away his kingship and giving it to his daughter who is blessed and chosen by the gods to rule the Five Cities.”

  She climbed back down and turned to the guards who stared at her. The four doomed supporters stared at her. Athalia stared at her.

  “I was going to add something in there about being the Mistress of Deserts, but that seemed a tad excessive,” Kaislyn added.

  She turned back to Ikaros. He stood unmoving, but for his twitching fingers.

  The phoenix rustled its wings and took to the air, gliding in lazy circles above the assembled crowd. Already uneasy with the way events were unfolding? At the very least, it had just physically distanced itself from Ikaros.

  He didn’t seem to notice the bird’s change of behavior. Visibly shaking himself, Ikaros sat again. Every inch of him radiated feigned indifference.

  “Let the arrogant girl die first,” he decreed.

  The crowd shifted, but it was an uncertain shift and Ikaros noticed it. A frown crossed his face before he forced it away and assumed a neutral expression. “It grieves me that a creature so young is so thoroughly corrupted,” he added.

  The crowd murmured their agreement this time.

  Kaislyn allowed herself a sigh. This was going to have to be messy.

  The execution block was much nicer than the tree stump in the mountains. It was a large, smooth stone stained with dried blood. A guard pushed down on Kaislyn’s shoulders and she obligingly knelt while the assigned executioner stepped to the side of her,
drawing a rapier.

  Kaislyn tilted her head up, resting her chin on the block. Her senses worked in overdrive. The sun was too bright, the air too cold. Her nose stung with the metallic smell of blood. She suspected it was her own blood she was smelling. Why couldn’t she ever suffer a loss of smell? That would be lovely.

  Ikaros leapt to his feet again and paced to the edge of the dais. “No final struggle? No last insult?” he mocked. “Your little speech did nothing! Did you hope to turn the people of this good city against me? Did you hope that the traitorous princess would somehow save you?”

  Kaislyn smiled very slowly.

  Ikaros glared at her and retreated back to his throne. His voice was loud in the waiting silence. “Kill her.”

  She listened as the executioner raised his blade, heard it whistling through the air, felt the inrush of the swinging blade. Kaislyn closed her eyes as the sharp metal bit into her neck. The sensation was no worse than slicing her thumb open with a knife.

  There was a slight clang as the blade hit the stone beneath her.

  The guard restraining her let go. She heard the executioner scramble backwards when her head didn’t fall off.

  “You missed!” Ikaros was a distant buzzing yell. “Sloppy—”

  “I didn’t miss! You can see the sword sticking out of her—”

  Time for the nasty part. Scrunching her eyes tighter, Kaislyn straightened. Pulling her neck back through the blade was much worse as the pain began to intensify. She grabbed the sword as it fell and held it above her, examining it. Its once shining metal was a distinct, and very obvious, red color.

  “I don’t think he missed, do you?” She turned to the guard nearest her. His eyes rolled upwards and he fainted dead away.

  Kaislyn blinked and lowered the sword. “Well, that’s a new one.” No one else moved on the scaffold, though Athalia, Kaislyn was amused to see, looked like she was about to be sick.

  She turned back to face the unmoving crowd. She set the sword carefully in front of the block, tilting it so that the blood was clearly seen by the front rows of the crowd. Next, she propped a foot on the block while she drew her skirts up to reach the dagger she’d strapped to her leg.