by Trisha Wolfe
“Our alliance has always held strong,” the empress says. “We’ve banded together in the past, and as of recent, our countries stand together to fight dark forces that are threatening not only us, but all realms.”
Falling onto the couch, I let the bright light of the monitor wash her image over me. Bax is transfixed by her also. I admit, she’s commanding. For a woman ruler.
“Today, we hear your cries. Your pleas. We acknowledge your fear, for your children and yourselves. An evil has invaded our world, our lives. It threatens everything. We’ve heard your distress and now we, your leaders, come to you with an answer.”
She raises a hand and waves it to her left, and the loud boom of the palace doors opening sounds through the monitor. It makes my skin prickle with chills. Then, both countries’ councilors—minus one; our new ally, Teagan—guide a line of women onto the platform.
Bax pushes off the wall to stand closer to the monitor, his hands clamped tightly around the chains dangling from his wrists. “Prince…” he begins. Only his words die off as Empress Iana continues.
“The disgraced moon goddess, the banished goddess of mayhem and madness, has touched these women. Long ago, the Three Realms instated laws to protect us from such threats. Laws abolished once we were free of the dark goddess’s tyranny. But as that threat rises once again, these laws are being reinstated today. We will not live in fear of evil. We will not condone it. We will eradicate its existence.”
My eyes hone in on one figure—one woman who I would recognize anywhere. Although she’s dressed in plain white garb like the others, she stands apart. Her head held high, her silver hair—once the same dark color as mine—swept up into a neat twist. My mother.
I’m on my feet and storming toward the monitor as the empress says, “This evening, as the moon rises, we will cleanse this country of Bale’s influence.” She lifts her head, and I slam my fist into the wall beside the monitor. The screen shakes, hissing with static. “The madness will be executed and eliminated before all.”
Gripping the cold edges of the screen, I watch as she motions the guards. They raise their swords and herd—like a damn herd of cattle—the women and my mother toward a recently constructed cell behind the dais.
As the transmission comes to a close, the camera pans the crowd. Heated slurs and chants to end the crazy women touched by Bale filter through the speakers. Then fast flying fruit, I imagine rotten as hell, soars toward the makeshift cell.
The connection ends. A bleep. And I’m staring at a blank red screen.
“Fuck!”
My hands ignite white, and the monitor sparks. Fiery specs spray my face as I yank the damned thing from the wall. Ignoring the smoke curling into my eyes, I lift it above my head with a growl and slam it to the floor.
My chest heaves as I look down at the destruction.
The room is so silent I can hear Lake and Bax breathing. Vile things with their inhumanly large noses.
At least no one is dumb enough to say anything. Not even Bale. Not yet.
I need a moment to process what just happened.
It’s a trap.
Squeezing my eyes closed, I bite down on my lip. Then, “I don’t want to hear your nonsense right now.”
Suddenly, a warmth rushes through my body, calming. Soothing. It travels through my limbs and up to my neck. Wraps a blanket of tranquility around me, and I slowly, effortlessly walk to the couch and sit.
There, Prince. Ease your mind.
“What are you doing?”
But Bale doesn’t answer, only continues to send a steady stream of her unnerving relaxant through me.
I understand your distress, but you must listen. They are using your mother to bait you to them.
At hearing the dark goddess utter those words, a cramp seizes my chest. But it’s quickly eased away. I begin to think more clearly. They must be aware of the new moon. What it means.
They mean to trap us. Kill you, and capture me. We cannot play into their hands.
“Our deal,” I grit out past clenched teeth. “I was to retrieve my mother, and you get the restored relic. That’s the deal!”
You want so much, dear prince. Your mother. Kaliope. Your crown. Your power… I’ve made sacrifices. It’s time for you to choose what you’re willing to surrender.
Shaking my head, I laugh a mirthless laugh.
“Caben.”
This comes from Bax. It’s said so low, so direct, I almost hear my father’s voice. The Otherworlders have never called me by my name. Not my given, anyway. It forces me to look at him, my guard down.
He’s still clinging to his chains. “Did you happen to notice what was around the empress’s neck?”
I hike my eyebrows. “Unfortunately, no, Bax. Not while her lackeys were imprisoning my mother at sword point.”
He nods carefully. Smart mutant. “The shard, Prince. She wore the relic shard around her neck.”
I shake my head. “That no longer matters.” His eyes widen, but I brush off his alarm. “Bale knows, mutant. She’ll become corporal with or without the relic in less than two days, and I’ll finally be free, with more power.”
Sinking my hand into my pocket, I grasp the emblem, containing and shrouding my thoughts as much as possible. The cool metal grounds me, centers me, where I can hide what I know is to happen. Luckily, Bax comprehends this, and only nods again in response.
Then a realization hits me like a blow to the head. I stand and march toward Bax. Yank his chain and force him close. “We’ll offer a trade,” I say. The plot forms quickly. And I’m thankful, for now, for Bale’s calming touch. I’m able to think almost clearly. “I want my mother, and Kal wants you.”
Bax’s eyes widen. “That could’ve very well been an excellent plan, My Liege. But you are forgetting one thing. The Nactue leader, I’m sure by now, has very little say.” I release his shackles, and he straightens his shoulders. “If you don’t believe me, send a scout. Or use your inside connection. Kal’s probably as much a prisoner of Perinya as your dear mother.”
I hear Bax’s voice suddenly—danger.
A wisp of a memory—only allowed to bleed into my thoughts briefly before I shut it out—reminds me of this. Kal’s in danger. From her own people.
“Lake,” I say, taking a backward step away from Bax. I glance at my number one. “Send in a scout. Have them make contact with Councilor Teagan. Find out what the hell is going on.”
“Yes, My Liege.” I acknowledge his bow, and he sets off.
Pushing his matted dreads from his eyes, Bax lifts his chin. “And if word comes back…”
“I’m getting my mother no matter what,” I say, ignoring Bale’s hiss in my mind. “We’re all getting what we want.”
Indeed, Prince. Your mother for Kal.
My eyes pinch closed.
I will indulge your human weakness. Just this once. Kill the Nactue leader, and I will help you free your mother.
It’s decided then. I know what I’m willing to sacrifice.
♦ 18 ♦
Kaliope
“OPEN THE DOOR.”
Empress Iana stands outside my cell, instructing—to no surprise—her Nactue to allow her into the cell with me. She doesn’t fear any harm. Not from me. I’m still bound to protect her. Though the bond weakens more every hour the more solidified my resolve becomes, I could never hurt her. Or betray her. That’s of my own accord, though. Nothing to do with the bond.
I’m not like them.
She pushes the sleeves of her white robe past her forearms as she enters. Then she takes a seat on the cot. Strange, that an empress would seat herself below anyone. On a foul piece of furniture. It says a lot about her.
I lean against the bars opposite her. My gaze flicks between her and the Nactue—Whip and Kai. The others, I assume, are making preparations for the Otherworlders’ return. Whatever plan has been put into effect to lure Caben.
Although that shouldn’t prove too difficult. Bale wants the goddess relic
. I wonder if Empress Iana trusts this strategy so implicitly that she’d put it within Bale’s reach just to bring Caben to me.
“I didn’t want you here,” the empress says, motioning to the holding room. “I wanted you to know that this is not to punish you. I’d never treat one of my most regarded Nactue, one of my sisters, in this manner.” She sighs. “But placing you in anything less structured… Well. A room simply cannot hold you. No number of guards can contain you.”
I smile. It feels flat on my face. But she returns the gesture with a full smile of her own. “Yes, because holding me against my will in beautiful accommodations would have made all the difference.”
Her smile falls. “Touché. But I fear you’ve been misled, my Nactue. You’ve fallen far from the path that was chosen for you. And Prince Caben, I believe, is the reason for this. Your feelings for the prince are clouding your judgment.”
To think, I once trusted this woman absolutely. Dreamed of the day when I could sacrifice everything just to protect her. To be near her. It wasn’t that long ago, mere months, that I’d have given my own life for her. That I nearly did.
I decide to reason with her logically. What’s been done to me can’t be legal. “On what grounds am I being held?”
Her gaze locks with mine. “Heresy.”
My stomach bottoms out, and I’m shocked that she didn’t even flinch while delivering this absurd accusation. I shake my head slowly. “That’s an utter falsification. Who made this inane allegation?”
With a steadying breath, she says, “Councilor Herna filed a statement, swearing her word as witness to your deviation into the worship of Bale.” Somehow, I shouldn’t be surprised. Herna never did earn back my full trust. “Others fear you’re one of Councilor Teagan’s conspirators.”
I glance at Teagan in the cell across from me. She’s wearing a wide, disturbing smile, like she’s thoroughly enjoying herself. She is completely mad.
“We’ve resurrected archaic laws to rule the people now, have we?” I say. Just months ago, I’d have been forcefully removed from my station with a mark against my reputation, like the way Carina was dealt with. Now, I could be sentenced to death. Bale is no longer a legend, her religion frowned upon. She’s a real, fear-inducing threat. Not only for the sheer danger she may destroy us, but our customs.
Scrubbing both hands down my face, I pause over my cheeks, releasing a clipped laugh. Lowering my hands to my side, I say, “This will never stand.” And it won’t. Not when it’s taken to Court, and my mother appeals, and so do my friends…if they choose to stand by me.
“Probably,” she replies simply. “But this matter will never be heard by the Court.”
She’s right. I won’t live long enough for that. The least she could do is have the courage to voice as much.
“And I’m sorry, Kaliope,” she continues. “I had hoped you would have accepted your cause back when we first spoke in the palace chapel. I truly believed you would. I told you then how I wished you would embrace your gift, remember?” She stands and steps forward, as if she’s going to reach out for me, but stops just inches shy. “But now is your chance to do just that. Can you not see this?”
I remember our conversation well. It’s one that shapes people. The empress I adored embraced me instead of rejecting me. I felt special then, and I’ve since relied on that acceptance, depended on her belief in me to further my own approval of myself. But just like so many other changes in my life, whether from my eyes being opened, experience gained, or the fact that I’m not done being molded into the woman I’m to be just yet—I am no longer that ashamed girl seeking approval.
“Empress, I have taken vows. Have sworn my very life to my true cause. However”—I uncross my arms to stand before her—“those promises were not made to the goddesses. I swore my life to you, and only on a slightly lesser scale, my family and friends. And that includes Prince Caben. I refuse to take any action in this war where my oath to protect those I love is broken. I will fight whoever attempts to end Caben’s life.” I take in a quick breath, feel the mercury rising. “I am a person, who breathes and feels…I may have been designed by the goddesses, but I am first me. I’m not a weapon forged for their glory. Damn the goddesses and their petty wars.”
The shock on her face happens subtly. Her widening amethyst eyes. The parting of her pink lips. I’ve seen the empress at her worst—near death—and yet she never lost her composure. It fills me with remorse that I’m the reason she falters now.
But I meant every word. I won’t sacrifice any person for beings—divine or not—that consider us so…disposable.
Clearing my throat, I shrug off the uncomfortable silence. Then look to the two members of the Nactue. I don’t want to trade blows with them. I hope that it doesn’t come to that. I’ll never raise my sword against them with intent to kill—I’ll die first—but I won’t allow them to blindly obey orders and take a life for a cause we don’t fully understand.
Half of them joined because they believed in our cause. In ending the war with the Otherworld, in ending the threat of Bale, so that no other would lose the people they love. Serving Empress Iana, someone they believed would lead them to that victory, was a part of that cause.
I don’t know how they feel about the orders they’ve been given now. Only that as two of them stand here—one from Cavan and the other sprung from the Reckoning—if they plan to stand with the empress, then they stand against me.
More than anything, I wish Lilly were here. I need to look into her eyes and understand what she’s feeling, thinking. Because maybe it’s me. Maybe they all trust the empress, believe this is the only clear choice, and I’m the one who’s wrong. I just don’t know anymore.
“Kaliope,” Empress Iana says my name so low, I almost don’t hear. But I look at her. “No one appreciates your struggle more than me and your sisters, I assure you. But this is what must happen to end this war. To assure that Bale does not take form in our world. It was pre-ordained long before either of us existed. I can only pray that, by the end, you will understand we’ve all been given little choice.”
I can’t stop the laugh that tumbles out. “The excuse that all is the will of the goddesses. It doesn’t pardon your choices, Empress. You do have a choice. I have a choice. And I choose not to become Bale’s vessel, and not to let Caben die.”
“Prince Caben is nearly here,” she says.
I shake my head. “How do you know that?”
“We’ve made sure to offer something that he, despite the influence of the dark goddess, cannot refuse.” At the confused look on my face, she clarifies, “His mother.”
“What?” Icy tingles prick my cheeks as the blood drains from my face.
She walks toward the cell door, allowing her sleeves to fall to her wrists. “You once asked me if I was certain that Caben still resided within himself. If there was a part of him able to fight against Bale’s hold. And I hesitated. My answer was that I wasn’t sure.”
I remember. When I first came to her after we escaped the Otherworld. I needed to know for sure that Caben was still…Caben. That he could be saved. That I could save him. And that hesitation she gave me, that moment of pause, told me enough. It was just a second, but it ignited the hope within me that has pushed me forward ever since.
“Despite Bale’s nonstop attempts to take the goddess relic and the shard, Prince Caben himself had other reasons for leading the raid on his own palace. His mother. He came here for her.”
This is true. The Caben I knew, who spoke of his mother with the love of a boy, would want his sickly mother far away from any danger. He’s untrusting of everyone, and would only believe his mother is safe with him. It renews my faith that he’s still in there. He’s still fighting.
Keep fighting, Caben.
“And you used his mother to bait him to his own death?” An ill feeling lump settles in my stomach. I shake my head. “How…?”
“How could I do this? How could I sink so low?” She lifts he
r head higher. “The how is unimportant. I hope you never have to make the difficult choices I’ve had to make, Kaliope. Like the prince himself has had to make. Just understand that the end result is what matters here.”
Anger flares beneath my skin, the mercury heating with my dread. After what his father did, taking his mother away from him and putting her in a mental ward, the last thing that needs to happen here is his own Council—his people—betraying him by hurting his mother.
“What have you done?”
The cell door slams shut, and I flinch.
“Kaliope, I’ve always had faith in you, as well have your sisters. You must prepare yourself now. Pray. Ask for guidance and for strength.” Empress Iana grasps the bar, her soft eyes pleading. “Soon, you’ll meet Bale. The true essence of her, and you need to be prepared. Use this time wisely.” She bows her head.
Taking two long strides, I’m at the cell door and touching her hand, imploring, “You’re not even going to let me say my goodbyes?” I squeeze her fingers. Not hard, just enough for her to feel my anguish. “To my mother, or to my friends? The Nactue?”
She removes her hand from mine without looking at me. Then slowly, she raises her eyes to mine. I see the sorrow in them, but it’s little consolation for what she’s doing to me. What she’s done. “You have so little faith in our goddesses, and in yourself, that you don’t believe you’ll triumph?”
I back away from the door and look to Whip and Kai. They’ve stayed respectfully silent this whole time. They’re faces reflect the fear coursing through me. I’m not sure if it’s fear that I won’t survive, or fear that I will.
“I forgive you,” I tell them both. “Let the others know…I forgive them. But only for what has been done to me, not Caben.”
Kai swallows. I watch her throat bob, and I know she wants to say something badly.
Empress Iana turns to her. “Give her the message.”
Kai approaches the cell hesitantly and pulls her shoulders back. “From all the Nactue, we believe in you, Kal.”