by Wendy Wang
Egan jutted his chin out and gave him a nod.
Sinjon D'Raq didn’t acknowledge his gesture. He continued to stare at Egan with his ice blue eyes. Egan didn’t flinch. Instead he sized up the man.
D'Raq’s black, curly hair fell to his shoulders and half of his dark olive skin was covered with a thick beard. The only feature he shared with his sister, Harbee, was his eyes. Egan had never liked being around her because she always seemed to stare right into the heart of him, but Sinjon D'Raq’s frozen glare? He’d rot before he backed down.
“There’s a seat over there, Sir,” Hargett said, pointing. Egan pushed Hargett’s arm down.
“Fine,” Egan said “Come on.”
Egan glanced over his shoulder at D'Raq. The man had moved up in line and was chatting with the server. From this distance it looked as if the server gave him an extra piece of meat. Egan shook his head. That was how to work a serve line.
They found two seats at the end of one of the long tables. Egan didn't like that every seat in the hall either backed up to another seat or was exposed to the long open passageway between the tables. There wasn't much choice so he chose the seat facing the passageway.
The two inmates sitting next to him didn't even look up when he sat down. The one next to him curved his arm protectively around his bowl but kept eating.
“Move,” a deep gentle voice said. The man sitting next to him glanced up. The feral look on his face withered at the sight of Sinjon D'Raq. He said nothing picked up his bowl and walked away. He took a seat at another table. And didn't even throw a glance towards D'Raq.
D'Raq sat down next to Egan. He stirred his spoon around his bowl and scooped up a piece of potato.
“You'll find the food here is decent for a prison,” D'Raq said.
“Will I?” Egan's gaze slid sideways towards D'Raq.
“Uh huh.” D'Raq slurped some gravy from his spoon. D'Raq's biceps flexed a little, making it clear he didn't spend his time in his cell lying around staring at the ceiling.
“You're Egan Crane,” D'Raq said.
“I am.”
D'Raq nodded. “Not exactly what I expected.”
“That's too bad.”
“Not really,” D'Raq said.
He continued to eat not even bothering to throw a glance at Egan.
“I just thought you'd be bigger that's all.”
“Really?” Egan said.
“Yeah I figured it took a big man to say what you said to the tribunal. I guess size really isn't everything is it?”
Egan picked up his spoon and plunged it into a piece of potato.
“What's your point?”
“My point is,” D'Raq started, “you and I have common interests.”
“Indeed,” Egan said.
“We should discuss them sometime.” D'Raq said.
“Sure,” Egan said. “I'll invite you to my office sometime.” He glanced around. This wasn't exactly the most discreet place to make plans for escaping.
“No,” D'Raq said. “I'll invite you. Just keep your eyes open.”
He slurped up the last of his gravy, picked up his bowl and spoon and walked away before Egan could ask him what that meant. He supposed it didn't matter as long as D'Raq stayed out of his way.
“He is right, Sir,” Hargett said shoveling the bits of potato and carrot into his mouth.
“Right about what?”
“About the food. It is pretty good for prison food,” Hargett said. “And better than anything I ever got at home.”
Egan grunted in agreement but bit his tongue to keep from expressing his true opinion. Really it was a waste to feed prisoners so well. Why did they need all this food? These inmates didn’t have to do any hard labor here. Eating this well was expensive and with the supply chains for all the realms stifled by the war, he wondered if the citizens of Tamarik knew. They might not like it so much, especially if food was scarce on their own tables. It was just one more way the youth and stupidity of the new queen stood out to him.
“Better eat up then,” Egan said, cutting his meat with his spoon. “We won’t be eating it for long.”
Six
When Neala didn't call for Gordon to accompany her, even the chief noticed. She’d had to lie to him when he asked her if everything was all right between her and Gordon. She had told him everything was fine, knowing he was too busy and too stressed by everything going on to question her further. Neala didn’t like lying to Cai.
Since she told the lie she had taken to spending all of her time either painting or reading in her father's study. It was safer that way and for the first time in her life she just wanted to be safe and she wanted the life inside her to be safe. If it hurt Gordon’s feelings, which she assumed it had because Cai had mentioned it in passing, well she couldn’t worry about it.
This morning she was hiding in her painting studio on the warden’s base. It was one of her favorite spaces — large and open and full of natural light — the chief had set up for her months ago. With the warden’s academy just across the quad, she could hear the laughter and voices of young people learning and she liked to think some of that vibrant energy flowed through the building into her studio along with the sunshine. Gordon had scoffed when she told him as much, calling all that energy nothing more than undisciplined junior wardens. It had made her laugh. She ignored the pang in her heart when she thought of him and how much she missed laughing with him.
A sharp knock made her cut her eyes in the direction of the door. She felt him — standing outside, nervous energy flowing through him as he took a deep breath and waited for her to respond. He never waited.
She frowned and called, “Come.”
He pushed the door open and painted a smile on his face. “Good morning, Your Majesty,” he said a little too upbeat. “And how are you this fine morning?”
“I'm fine thank you,” she said coolly, not quite ready to talk to him yet. “I don't recall sending for you.”
“Well, that's because you didn't. I was hoping I could talk you into a little mischief making,” he grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe hike up to the falls or one of your other favorite places.”
“No thank you,” she said and went back to her sketch.
“All right then,” he said, rocking back and forth on his feet. Awkwardness mushroomed between then. “Are we ever going to talk about this?”
“There's nothing to talk about,” she said. “Now if you wouldn't mind —”
“Well I'm sorry, Your Majesty but I do mind.” He snapped and moved closer.
Her mouth gaped open. It wasn’t the first time he’d contradicted her, or even told her off, but he usually did it with a smile and a bit of humor.
“I made you a promise and I have kept it. I don't like it. But I've kept it. I need to know that you’re at least taking care of yourself.”
“Jerugia's crown,” she rolled her eyes. “Of course I'm taking care of myself. Why do you think I've locked myself away? You think I don't want to go hiking up the mountain? I've even been eating although that's very hard. Everything smells bad to me.”
“Are you telling me the Chief hasn't noticed you being sick all the time?”
“He's a little preoccupied at the moment. We lost two villages on the outskirts of Tamarik. I can't believe Peter’s breached the border.”
“Now, I don't want you to be worrying about that. You just need to focus on taking care of yourself. Eating right, getting enough sleep.”
The hint of a smile twitched one corner of her mouth and she quirked an eyebrow. “How would you know such things?”
“I had a wife once,” he said softly. “And a child. Two actually.”
The smile on her lips faded before it fully bloomed. “I'm sorry. I forgot.”
“If I've told you once, I’ve told you 1,000 times, Majesty there’s nothing to be sorry about. The forgetting is more painful than the remembering. So it’s better to talk about them. It’s a way of keeping them alive. I'm glad th
at you know about them now.”
The tension in her shoulders loosened its grip. She could never stay mad at him for too long. “Still it’s a little too cold to go up the mountain right now and Cai has absolutely forbidden me.”
“Have you told him yet?” Gordon asked.
“No!” she said. “Are you insane? He's forbidden me because of the border breach. But I'm going to have to do something soon because,” she sighed and touched her belly. Every day it felt a little bigger. “I'm going crazy in here. I haven't even gone into my tower to practice fighting. I was afraid it might hurt the baby.”
“Well as long as you don't get hit in the belly. You should be fine. The exercise will do you good. You're just pregnant and not a frail old lady.” He chuckled.
“Well you're just a fountain of knowledge are you?”
“Indeed. I am a veritable encyclopedia.” He gave her a sly grin. “Although, if you’d be more comfortable talking to my mother, just say the word and I'll send for her.”
“Thank you, “she said. “I appreciate that.”
“So when are you going to tell him?”
She shrugged and gave him a mischievous look. “Never?”
“Well that won't work. You'll be showing before long. He'll know somethings up when your belly gets too big to hide under loose sweaters.” He laughed.
“I know,” she said. “None of my pants fit very well anymore. Everything is too tight.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Well that was bound to happen. Why don't we go out into the city to your favorite clothing shop. And get you some new clothes. It'll make you feel better to be more comfortable.”
“Then everyone will know,” she said. Her cheeks heated and she covered them with her hands.
“Is that what this is about? You're embarrassed?”
“No,” she protested, her voice a little too strident. “Of course not. It's ridiculous. Everyone knows Cai and I are married.”
“You are —” he said, his voice filled with incredulity. “And having a baby is one of the most beautiful and natural things in the world. It’s a hopeful act in this time of strife. People will be very excited about it.”
“I'm not embarrassed about being pregnant. Not exactly. I don't want — I've worked so hard so people, including Cai, would see me as strong. Someone they can rely on. Someone they will follow. They're going to see me as weak now. Something to be protected something —” her eyes stung with tears and she swiped harshly at her cheek when the first one fell. “Dammit,” she muttered.” You see? Nobody wants a queen who’s a crybaby and no matter how I try, I can't seem to control it.”
“Of course you can't control it,” he said. He knew better than to laugh. His mother had taught him well. “And there's nothing wrong with crying. I've been known to do it myself on occasion.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a clean handkerchief and handed it to her. She sniffled, staring out at for a few seconds before finally taking it and blowing her nose.
“Thank you,” she said handing it back to him.
“No, no,” he said gently. “You keep it.”
She folded it up and shoved it into her pocket.
“We should probably go shopping. And — I should probably tell Cai.” She twisted her mouth into a grimace. “Hopefully he won't lock me away in the tower.”
“I am quite certain,” Gordon said suppressing a grin. “That if he tries there will be a whole other war to fight. Although I expect that you will no longer be allowed to go to the front lines or anywhere else deemed remotely dangerous.”
Neala scowled. “The whole world feels so dangerous right now. I don't know how he's going to keep me from the whole world.”
The grin on his lips faded and he gave her a solemn nod. “We’ll do our best to protect you, Majesty and the little one.”
Neala’s hand drifted to her belly, her fingers splaying protectively. “I don't know if there's any way to keep her completely safe.”
“How do you know it's a her?” His mouth quirked on one side and he gave her a sideways glance.
“I don't,” she shrugged one shoulder. “It's just a feeling. Or maybe just hope that somehow I won't be the last queen.”
“You won't be. “
“I hope you’re right. The world feels like it's on fire.” “A shudder ran down her spine. “If Peter takes Tamarik—”
“That is never going to happen, Majesty.”
“How do you know?”
“You're not the only one that gets feelings about things.”
Neala met his gaze squarely. He smiled, his eyes bright and full of determination. With a decisive nod she said, “All right let's go do this before I change my mind.”
“Oh there'd be no point in that. That baby is coming whether you want it to or not. You may as well accommodate it. And at least make yourself comfortable.”
******
Egan awoke with a start, unable to breathe. He tugged at the collar of his itchy wool shirt and sucked in air. Somewhere in the darkness someone had slipped a noose around his neck and pulled it tight, suffocating him. He sat up and rubbed his throat. It was just a dream. All just a bad dream.
Moonlight shined through the small window high on the cell wall casting an eerie glow around his cell and he got to his feet.
Clink!
He scanned the room for the source of the noise. A metal disk laid on the floor by his feet.
“Where did you come from?” He touched it with his foot, flipping it with his toe. How had it gotten on top of him? He bent down and picked it up. The smooth round disk reminded him of the one he’d taken off the seer. The one he’d lost when the wardens tackled him to the ground. He never did find out how she’d used it.
The surface was tarnished so badly it was almost black. He rubbed his thumb against the smooth, cool metal and scratched its surface with his nail. Maybe he could use it to trade for something if he got a chance.
The disk began to thrum against his fingers. The only thing that stopped him from dropping it was the appearance of bright, glowing blue letters.
Use me.
“Use me to do what?” he muttered. The letters blurred, changing into one word. Communication. His heart fluttered with excitement. “Communication with who?”
The metal warmed against his skin, quickly becoming too hot to touch. Egan dropped it, expecting it to land flat on the floor. Instead it hit the stone and rolled silently across the floor towards the cell door with purpose. Egan followed it, sticking his face between the bars. The letters disappeared and the black metal was nearly impossible to see in the shadows of the darkened corridor. Its path curved towards one of the cells. Egan squinted against the darkness and a shadowy hand jutted through the next to last cell on the right. The coin rolled into the hand and disappeared into a fist.
Egan clucked his tongue and scrubbed the back of his neck. Who did the disk belong to? Was it like the disk the seer had? He lay down on his cot and closed his eyes. A moment later something landed on his chest. The coin was back. He picked it up and read it.
Death to the Queen
Egan held up the coin between his thumb and forefinger. Death to the Queen. It was a sentiment he could get behind. He flipped the disk over again. How did it work? The letters blurred and formed another word.
Think it
The letters only stayed long enough for him to read it before they blurred and changed again.
Try
“Okay,” he whispered to himself. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow concentrating. What are you?
Egan opened his eyes and found his words written on the disk. The metal thrummed against his skin and he opened his palm expecting it to become hot again, readying himself to toss it to the floor when it did. The words blurred and changed.
Amplifier
“Amplifier,” he mouthed, his mind turning the word over and over. An amplifier of what? He blinked and the words blurred.
Thoughts
“Whos
e thoughts?” he asked aloud.
My thoughts. So you can hear me.
Egan frowned. “Who do you belong to amplifier?”
The letters shifted and the color changed from glowing blue to glaring red.
Sinjon D'Raq
Of course. D’Raq was an Ethavian, a Wood Kael. He lived and died by the thoughts he could glean, especially in a place like this. Well, if it was thoughts he wanted, thoughts he would get. What do you want D'Raq?
An ally.
Egan twisted his lips. Why?
Why not?
I don’t know you.
The words came too fast for him to read and he growled at the disk. Slow down.
Close your eyes.
How am I supposed read with my eyes closed?
Close your eyes.
Egan huffed out a breath but shut his eyes. The disk hummed against his palm.
Can you hear me?
“Yes,” Egan said aloud.
Don’t speak. I can hear your thoughts, remember?
Right. What do you want D'Raq?
Where do your loyalties lie?
You already know where my loyalties lie.
Do I?
You do. Where do yours lie?”
With my family first.
Is the Emperor your family?
Silence. Egan opened his eyes. I don't think we have anything to talk about then.
I can make your life here easier.
I'm not going to be here very long.
You'll be here long enough for me to make your life harder too. The choice is yours. Easy? Or hard.
You're threatening me?
No. I'm telling you how things are here.
I'm not staying. I don't really care how they are here.
Are you really in such a hurry to die? Because I can help you with that.
Who said I was dying?”
He heard a chuckle down the hall.
I like you.
You don't know me.
I know enough. You're ruthless. You’re focused. And you’re loyal when you believe it will get you where you want to go.
You can take your coin back now. Egan dropped the disk onto the floor and it rolled away.
I don't need the disk to get inside your head.