by Sarah Wynde
Fen looked at her brother.
Malik lifted his bound hands and bent his head over them. “Val Kyr trusts that the Voice of Wai Pa is at least as competent an adult as most of the others he knows. Including himself.” He lifted his head again. His grin looked malicious. “Val Kyr votes yes.”
Fen took a breath.
“As does Wai Pa,” she said. “And now, perhaps it’s time to move on to more important matters?”
There was a moment of stiff silence before she could hear the noise of the crowd above them. She risked a glance up. People were laughing and applauding, but the crowd also held plenty of disapproving faces and condemning frowns.
Fen’s chin lifted defiantly, but her eyes shot to Kaio’s. He was grinning at her, his expression proud. She glanced down the hall toward Luke and Gaelith. They were also smiling in her direction.
Even stranger than arrogance was the feeling of support. She’d been alone for so long. What was the opposite of loneliness? Togetherness? Community? She’d just declared—demanded—her independence, and yet she felt sheltered by the care and warmth of others.
She felt loved.
She felt at home.
She drew in a deep sigh of satisfaction, as Selene of Lan Tis said, voice acid, "Indeed. Next up, I think, the trial of Malik of Val Kyr for murder and attempted murder.”
Uh-oh. That didn’t sound good.
Honor-Bound
The wall swirled and turned foggy.
Fen stepped through it.
Malik sat on the floor, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the room, head back, legs crossed. Fen thought he might be asleep but before she could decide to leave, he opened his eyes and let his head tilt down, immediately alert, as if the breath of air from her entrance was enough to wake him.
Neither of them spoke.
They’d removed the bindings on his arms and legs when they returned him to his cell, but otherwise, he looked as he had at the council meeting a few short hours ago.
The incredibly tedious council meeting.
The five Voices had spent the remainder of the day debating protocol, one long-winded speech after the next arguing jurisdiction and authority, citing historical precedents and case law, every word couched in politeness and formality.
Holy crap, it had been boring.
They’d closed the meeting without resolution, planning to resume the discussion in the morning. Fen couldn’t wait.
Meanwhile, the castle would be holding a formal banquet. It was tradition, apparently. Fen almost envied Malik—he wouldn’t be attending.
“You look very nice,” Malik finally said. His voice wasn’t mocking.
Fen looked down at herself, flushing. She hadn’t magicked up this outfit. Gaelith had produced it and insisted Fen wear it. Fen wouldn’t exactly say she minded. The peach dress with its colorful embroidery, flowing skirts, and wide, almost corset-like, waistband was the prettiest thing she’d worn since the sparkling pink princess dress she’d loved to death in her childhood.
Not her style, of course. Not the kind of thing she’d ever wear at home. But she couldn’t resist stroking a hand down her hips. The fabric was so soft and the way the skirts swirled around her legs when she moved made her want to spin in circles just to feel its caress.
“Thanks.”
Silence fell again as she studied his face. She should have recognized the eyes. Maybe nothing else—after all, who looked at a mugger and thought, “Mom?”—but the green color should have been familiar.
“What are you doing here?” he finally asked.
Fen let her eyes drop from his and looked around the room, mouth twisting at its barren walls. “You can make this room different, you know. Tell it what you want and it’ll change to be more comfortable.”
She couldn’t read his expression, but his voice was dry. “I doubt you’re here to consult on the interior decoration of the castle cells.”
“No.” Fen put a hand to the crystal she wore around her neck. She didn’t have to let him see their mother, she knew. The decision was hers. But her mother had wanted it, wanted the last chance to tell her first-born that she loved him. Fen still wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “Did you know I was your sister when you tried to kill me?”
A corner of his mouth tugged upward. “Had you swallowed every last pill, you would have slept for three days and woken in Val Kyr.”
Fen’s mouth dropped open. “You said you were going to shoot me!”
“I had no wish to harm you. I thought Baldric had lost his mind when he ordered me to take you. Kidnapping humans? Our city council would have exiled him for decades. But I couldn’t disobey. Tricking you into sleep seemed gentler than abducting you violently. Had you refused, I would have resorted to physical force.” His smile was grim. “My mistake, I suppose.”
Fen glared at him. “Why did you shoot Luke, then?”
His mouth set in a tight line. “I did not. I did not recognize the boy, but I knew he must be Sia Mara when the metal of my weapon heated. Creating warmth is a minor persuasion, but not one humans possess.”
“Yeah, and then you came back and shot him.”
He shook his head. “Not I. Baldric. Further evidence of his insanity, I feared. He would have no witness. To what, I did not know.”
Fen folded her arms across her chest and stared down at him. Was he lying to her? Trying to get out of trouble? But he’d refused to talk to the Great Council and they were the people his story needed to impress. “Why did you obey him?”
“I am Val Kyr. I am honor-bound to obey.” He leaned his head back against the wall again, closing his eyes as if tired.
Fen ignored the signal. She wasn’t leaving until she got the answers she wanted. “Did you know I was your sister?”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, but his voice was steady. “No. I thought my mother was dead. I didn’t know she’d had another child.”
Fen fingered the copper of her necklace again. Did she want to make the offer? But before she could decide, the words slipped out of her mouth. “Do you want to see her?”
“There is no need. I know what she—” He stopped speaking, gritting his teeth, the muscles in his jaw working. “Yes.”
He hadn’t gotten to his feet. He still sat in the same spot on the floor, legs crossed, and yet Fen was abruptly aware that she was in a small, enclosed space with a killer.
She didn’t step backward. He might be a killer, but she was, too, now, and this room was rich with magic. One move toward her and she’d fight back.
But he didn’t move.
She slipped her finger along the crystal. Gaelith had shown her how to use it when they were getting ready for the banquet. Her mother—their mother—appeared before them.
Malik watched intently as she spoke, but Fen’s attention was divided, part on her mother and part on Malik’s stern face.
He looked as if he were trying to remain expressionless, to show no reaction, but his eyes widened when their mother accused the Val Kyr of destroying Wai Pa and his brow furrowed when she spoke of her sisters. When she mentioned him, his lips set, but when she said that she loved him, he flinched and looked away. By the time she finished, his face looked neutral again, entirely blank as their mother said her good-byes to Fen.
“Did you know that?” she asked.
“I told you, I knew nothing of your existence. I was told my mother had died in a freak accident.”
“Not that. The part about Wai Pa.”
“No.” His voice was flat.
“Is that the secret Baldric wanted no witnesses of?”
“Perhaps.”
“What are the Val Kyr planning?”
He’d been staring straight ahead, not looking at her, but at that question, his head turned in her direction. Eyebrows arched, he asked, “Did the Council send you in here to interrogate me?”
Fen snorted. “Of course not. Half of them think I’m a baby.”
His lips twitched as if he
would laugh. “I’m not going to answer any more of your questions.”
“Why not? What difference does it make?”
He spread his hands. “I am bound…”
“Your boss is dead,” she interrupted him. “You were second-in-command. That makes you the boss now, not to mention the Voice.”
“The circumstances under which I’ve become temporarily the Voice of Val Kyr are as random as the one in which you became Voice of a city that no longer exists. I’m no more a Voice than you are.”
“The magic doesn’t think so.”
“The magic doesn’t think.” His voice was bitter. “It’s mechanical. Arbitrary. Unreliable.”
Huh.
“Elfie?” Fen subvocalized.
Elfie sounded troubled as she answered. “He is correct. Nanomites do not think, as such. They are—we are—designed to follow instructions.”
“But you think.”
“Gaelith Del Mar instructed me to aid you. She did not limit my ability to do such. When I could not answer your questions, I called upon other resources to assist me. Higher-order processing was needed. It is possible that we have violated one of the fundamental principles of the Sia Maran technological structure.”
Fen swallowed.
Okay, that didn’t sound good. So, for the moment, she wasn’t going to think about it. She’d focus on the immediate problem instead.
“Baldric is dead, so who is allowed to give you orders?”
Malik blinked at her, his gorgeous lashes dropping over his eyes. “Cut to the chase, don’t you?”
“Don’t be an ass. You couldn’t have missed the fact that the bitch from Lan Tis wants the death penalty for you.”
He spread his hands. “Should they find me guilty, I shall accept their punishment with equanimity.”
Stupid jerk.
Fen didn’t understand why she cared, why it mattered to her. Remy was dead and even if Malik hadn’t done the deed himself, he was clearly a bad guy. All the Val Kyr were. And yet… he was her brother.
She turned away from him and walked to the side of the room, putting her hand on the wall. The feel of the magic under her fingers reassured her. “Val Kyr follow orders?”
Turning her back to him was stupid. Could she hear him if he rose? Would she have time to summon the magic to her aid if he attacked her? She bet he could kill her pretty darn quickly. But it felt right. It felt like what she would need to admit hard truths, a sense of being unobserved.
“I am bound.” The bitterness in his tone had intensified. He said the words as if they were loathsome.
Fen stilled. “Honor-bound or bound?”
He didn’t answer.
It sounded like an answer.
“Who is allowed to order you to talk?” Her heart raced, her mind churning with it.
“I obey the leader of the Watchers of Val Kyr, the mother of my house, the members of the council of Val Kyr, and the queen of Val Kyr. None of whom are here. In their absence, I follow Baldric’s orders.”
She stared at the wall. The magic felt impatient. It was dancing under her hand, eager to transform, eager to become. But to become what? “He’s dead.”
“And so his orders stand.”
“You thought he was insane.”
“Indeed.” His tone was bleak.
Fen swallowed hard. “Do you obey him by choice or because you have none?”
He didn’t answer.
She turned. His head was down. He stared at his hands, folded in his lap, not looking at her.
She exhaled, trying to make it silent. She could feel the tension leaving her shoulders. It kind of sucked to stand still, waiting for someone to murder you. And it was kind of nice that she’d gotten it right and he hadn’t attacked her.
“The mother of your house. Was that our mother?”
His lips tightened. “No. We are of House Hikari. The mother of the House is Neva.”
“So in order to get you to talk, I need to go to Val Kyr and defeat the mother of your house in the Val Dagora and take over, yeah? Or maybe kick ass in the Val whatever-it-is and make myself queen?”
Malik’s grin was one hundred percent real. “I doubt that will work,” he said gently. “But should you make such happen, I will follow your wish as law.”
Fen nodded at him.
He might doubt her. But the hell with that.
She didn’t know how she’d do it—going to Val Kyr and knocking out their queen was probably not the most realistic plan—but one way or another, she was going to save his life.
She returned to the wall that connected to the hallway. “Door.” The wall shimmered into grey space.
Malik had still not moved from his place next to the opposite wall.
She looked back into the empty cell. “A nice bedroom.” The room leaped into being around Malik. “And a bookcase.” The magic obeyed. “With books,” she added. She narrowed her eyes at the empty space on the shelves as the magic seemed to waver, and nodded in satisfaction as it obeyed her.
She glanced at her brother.
“I’ll be back.”
Author’s Note
Thanks for reading! If you'd like to read more, please sign up for my mailing list at www.sarahwynde.com to have news of new releases delivered to your inbox.
If your retailer allows e-book lending, please feel free to share this book with a friend.
As always, I am incredibly grateful to my beta readers for their time and thoughtful feedback. Kara Daniel, you were delightfully hesitant to criticize but your insights into why the beginning bothered you and how the ending didn’t work were some of the most useful feedback I received. Barbara Gavin, the way you blend praise and criticism is beautiful—a professional editor could do no better. Allison Hubble, I’m not sure it’s fair to call you a beta reader—you’re more of an alpha, beta, and gamma reader—but I’m so grateful for your encouragement. Mike Kent, your eye for out-of-character vocabulary and plot holes has been wonderfully helpful—I hope to continue working with you for many books to come. Tim Nutting, your assistance when I’m stuck on a word or awkward sentence is invaluable. Christina Pearson, I hope I managed to nail Cinderella better the fourth time around. Thanks for reading even though you hate critiquing. Rachel Sager, your encouragement keeps me writing. Melanie Ting, you probably won’t ever see this, but I truly did appreciate your help—not all books are for all readers and that’s okay. The world would be a boring place if we all liked exactly the same thing. Carol Westover, you are a wonderful copy-editor—on my next book, I hope you read the last draft instead of the first. Teresa Young, I’m so glad you loved the book even though it wasn’t your usual thing—your encouragement kept me progressing through all of the many later drafts. Thank all of you, so very much.
Additional thanks go to all the people who commented on the first draft as it was posted on fictionpress and the second draft as it was posted on wattpad, including kaypgirl, deets1, Eventual Horizon, gem, IdreamofIvan, JaHarre, Kage Elric, Melony Grace, MidnyteCity, Monsterdia, Nattie, Susan Berger, Valinedel, Zebu blue, Zephiraya, and several unnamed guests.
I also want to thank my family. My terrific, amazing, wonderful son couldn’t care less about my writing, but brings me joy on a regular basis and listens patiently when I need him to, and my incredible father and delightful stepmother, Werner and Charleene Sharp, go above and beyond in being happy for my successes and sympathetic to my stresses.
Finally, I want to thank you, my reader. If you’ve waded all the way through these acknowledgements I’m pretty sure you must have enjoyed the book, and there are no words to express how grateful I am simply to know that you’re out there and that my wild stories entertain you. Thank you for reading!
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