by Susan Wu
Epir makes a show of heaving himself off the armchair. “Somehow I doubt that.” He raises his right arm, a large silver talon attached to his pointer finger. It looks innocuous until I notice the red laser dot appear in the center of Izic's chest.
Izic raises his empty hands in the air. “I thought you wanted to talk, Epir. I thought you wanted to have an open dialogue with the neighboring King. Is this any way to treat a fellow dignitary?”
“I grow tired of playing games. Let us be honest with each other, express our real wants,” Epir’s hand is unwavering. “I do not wish you or your family harm. I just want what is my birthright. I am the rightful heir to Phynx.”
“As you know, that is not something I can give away. The successor is chosen not born into the role.”
His lip curls into a sneer, “Then I want you out of my way. As you know, I already have the next in line. When I am done with you, Phynx will be mine.”
Izic replies calmly and slowly as if he’s speaking to a small child, “I cannot allow that to happen.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Epir lazily flicks the armored finger toward the wall next to the door.
I choke back a scream as a chunk of wall comes crashing down inches away from me. Epir lets out a yelp of pain and rips off the silver talon, his finger is a brilliant shade of red and his flesh blistered. I can practically hear his skin sizzling. Fear flickers briefly in his gray eyes as he inspects his injured finger but when he looks back at Izic, they are burning with rage and pain.
Izic sighs, reaching his hand inside his jacket and pulling out a white handkerchief. He holds it out in front of him. Epir snatches it and wraps it around his injured hand. Izic’s tone is impassive, “It is rude to point. I thought we were going to have a discussion.”
“It was my original intention. I am sorry I cannot be more like you. As you said earlier, not all of us are born kings. Perhaps that is why grandfather chose the just and righteous Izic to rule.”
“How can you lead the people, Epir? You know nothing of the needs of others. You only think of yourself.”
He snarls back, “You know nothing of what is it like to be an outsider. To have to struggle your entire life. Life has never just handed me things. I have always had to take what I want.”
“I am sorry, Epir. We were once like brothers. But that time has past... I only hope you can find peace.” With that Izic lifts his right arm, the silver talon materializing on his index finger.
Epir’s gray eyes widen and his lips part as the explosion rips through the calm of the night.
My eyes flutter open and I am screaming, the sound of rage emitting from Epir still ringing through my ears. I am back in my gilded cell. I swallow back another scream before I attract the attention of the guards standing outside the door. I push myself into a sitting position and hug my legs against my chest, resting my chin on my knees.
I try to shut out the terror that is threatening to consume me. But my heart is beating too fast and my breaths are coming in too short and shallow. A tremor travels down my whole body, beads of sweat rolling down my skin.
Sunlight is flooding through the high windows, beaming down on the bed. I had slept through the night. Everything seems quiet outside my room, a contrast to the chaos going on inside my body and my mind. They had not discovered Epir's body yet.
Dread fills me as I play out the scenario of what will happen to me when they do. I can only hope that Umira will be so enraged that my death is fast. The sound of shattering glass startles me from the contemplation of my impeding death. Tiny shards tinkle down on the ground as they land on the floor next to the bed. I am frozen as I watch a thick rope unfurl down the length of the wall and a familiar voice floats down, “Fallon, we’re coming down.”
Ethan. What the hell is he doing here? My frantic heart is about to beat out of my chest. Izic had sworn on his honor to protect Ethan but now Ethan is in the belly of the beast. Then again my father was not the most honorable man I knew. I spring off the bed and run to the window as Ethan zips down the rope.
Zefa zips down right after him. There is a lethal gleam in his eye as he assesses my battered face and bloody shirt. Attached to his finger is a silver talon, like the one Izic used to... I swallow back a wave of hysterics. Zefa’s eyes and his trigger finger are shifting as they take in the room.
“Oh my God. What did they do to you?” Ethan inspects the bruise on my face, pulling back my sleeves to check for other marks.
“I’m fine. We need to get out of here before the guards come.” Alarm bells are screaming in my head.
Zefa starts attaching a rope around my waist, “Time is of the essence, Ethan. She is alive and they will examine her once we get on board.”
The door of my cell is blown off with a thundering boom, the steel door a crumpled mass crashing into the bed I had been laying in moments before. My legs give out from the force of the blast and I’m knocked into Ethan. Zefa shoves the both of us behind him, shielding me with his body.
Umira is standing on the other side of the doorway. Her long dark hair is disheveled from sleep, her purple eyes are wild. The front of her silky white robe and her hands are covered in blood. That silver talon is attached to her pointer finger which is aimed straight at Zefa’s chest, her hands trembling. The guards are standing behind her, all aiming their weapons at us.
Her voice is hysterical as she shrieks, “You little witch! What have you done!”
Zefa’s weapon is aimed squarely at Umira’s chest and his voice is just as steady, “Drop your weapons. The palace is surrounded.”
The guards look at each other before kneeling down and placing their weapons on the ground. They step back with their hands up as Umira shrieks at them, “You spineless cowards! I will execute you myself.”
Her face crumbles and drops her taloned finger and starts sobbing into her bloodied hands. Zefa nods at Ethan and then tugs twice on the rope. Ethan wraps his arm around my waist and I grip onto his shoulders as the rope is pulled back up. We are halfway up the wall, when Umira pulls her hands away from her face, a cruel smile on her lips. Time slows down and I can see everything so clearly in this moment. This is how it ends.
She flits her finger in my direction. Zefa’s weapon goes off first, hitting her on the shoulder, the force of the impact throwing her body back.
But it’s too late.
Ethan’s arm goes slack around my waist and his body goes limp inside his harness. His blue eyes are wide with fear and confusion as blood spreads across his chest.