Kingmaker

by Eric Zawadzki

CHAPTER 49

  The way back was faster, and a little less eerie. The corpses’ backs were not as twisted as their faces. In the entry room, Blay and the rest of the squad waited. Jani looked sad. Phedam and Retus, grim. Lujo looked furious, and the way he looked at Blay told Butu all he needed to know about why.

  “Find anything?” Blay sounded impatient.

  He just wants us to find Pisor so he can help make Aesh or Jusep king, Butu thought bitterly.

  Tirud shook his head. “And you?”

  “Nothing but statues.” He glanced at the dark ceiling. “I wonder how the battle is going?”

  Butu heard the tremble in Blay’s voice. No, Butu amended, remembering his time alone in the shanjin with Nolen — when he had been in command. Blay is every bit as afraid the Akdren will capture us as the rest of us are. But when you’re in charge, you can’t let your fear show.

  Tirud shrugged. “It’s a siege, not a battle. Nothing will be decided today.”

  “Unless simam arrives,” Phedam corrected. “Or unless we find Pisor.”

  “Are you absolutely sure you’ve lost the power to feel metal?” Blay asked slowly.

  “Yes!” Lujo snapped. “How many times are you going to ask?”

  Blay ignored the outburst. “How about the rest of you?”

  Retus shook his head without turning away from the bridge. Butu said nothing.

  “It might help if we didn’t have our swords in here with us,” Phedam suggested with a shrug.

  “Good thinking,” Blay said. “Lujo, I need you to try one more time with the swords outside.”

  Lujo almost exploded in fury. “No, corporal! My magic is gone. Gone!” Lujo balled his hands into fists. “All Zhek’s grand plans and all that practice in the shanjin failed. I can no more find Pisor down here than you can.”

  Blay flushed with obvious rage and took a step toward Lujo. Tirud moved between them, meeting Blay’s gaze.

  “Blay, please. He’s done enough magic for one day. They all have. Half of them haven’t slept. Butu still reeks of piss from his night with the snakes, and Lujo’s ordeal was just as bad if not worse.”

  Butu felt sick to his stomach at the memory. Lujo took two steps away from Blay before crumpling to the floor with his head in his hands. Jani gave them both worried looks. Blay didn’t spare either of them a glance, but he didn’t argue, either.

  Tirud continued. “A few hours of sleep would do all our tempers some good. Maybe the magic will work again, or maybe we’ll notice some clue Mnemon left that we’re too tired to see now.”

  Blay said nothing for a long time, weighing Tirud with his eyes. At last, he nodded once. He even managed a smile that didn’t seem forced. “Very well. I’ll take first watch.”

  “I’ll take second,” Tirud said at once. “Retus, can you manage third?”

  “Yes.” Retus frowned. “Just explain to me how I’m supposed to tell time down here so I know when to wake all of you.”

  Blay barked a laugh. “We’ll just have to guess, I suppose. Get some sleep, squad. That’s an order.”

  They found a chamber nearly devoid of the dead Urgarun children. The ground was hard and not quite cold. Butu wanted to talk to Jani and Lujo about the nursery and what he had worked out about Mnemon, but he was asleep almost before he lay down.

  “Corporal,” Tirud’s voice trickled into Butu’s dream.

  Blay snorted awake. “Yes?” he asked muzzily.

  “The Akdren are back,” Tirud whispered.

  “Where?”

  “The palace stairs, but they’re fanning out.”

  Butu rolled over and leapt to his feet, his sword clattering to the floor. He picked it up and started buckling it on. “Should I wake the others?”

  Blay looked to Tirud in the dim light.

  Tirud shook his head. “Not yet. It’s a lot of city to search.”

  “If they think they have Pisor, why are they coming back?” Butu asked.

  “I don’t know. Go back to sleep,” Tirud said. “The second watch just started, and it might be a long time before any of us sleeps again.”

  And when that sleep comes, it might be the sleep of the Urgarun first-cyclers, unless we find Pisor. Butu managed a salute and lay down again. He licked dry, salty lips. If the Akdren don’t have enough supplies to withstand a siege, we don’t even have enough to survive more than a few days.

  Sleep stubbornly eluded him. He couldn’t stop thinking. Why had the Akdren come back? Where had Mnemon hidden Pisor? If they found Pisor, what would they do with it? It wasn’t like they could sneak past the Akdren army. Someone would have to make a king, and someone would have to be made king, but who?

  At last, Butu gave up. He stood up, buckling on his breastplate and sword. He made eye contact with Tirud and silently, sulkily motioned back into the corridors. Tirud nodded, understanding. Butu walked back amid the statues of the dead Urgarun children, Mnemon’s inscriptions taunting him wherever he went. He tried to ignore them.

  Maybe he sealed it in the walls or floor somewhere in Urgaruna. It’s a big city. Even a second-cycler could spend weeks looking for it.

  Butu suddenly tripped over a loose stone and sprawled onto the ground. He winced as he picked himself up slowly with scraped hands. He supposed one day he would get used to these daily failures of magic and the pains they brought.

  Maybe not. Maybe that’s why everyone wants to be king. It’s not about ruling Turuna but regaining what you lost with your childhood. Would I go as far as Jusep, Aesh, and Philquek have to get my magic back?

  Butu stopped walking as something flickered at the edge of his awareness. His heart pounded in his ears as he put a hand on the hilt of his sword. He was not alone.

  “Don’t think about the magic hiding you from me,” he chanted loudly as he drew it out of the sheath. “Don’t think about what will happen if your magic fails.”

  No young third-cycler flickered into sight, but Butu hadn’t expected one to. He and Lujo had managed to avoid the Akdren, after all. But an enemy with fingers in ears was less of a threat than one with sword in hand — especially one young enough to use magic. Butu walked around the room at a measured pace, still chanting.

  There.

  He turned, swinging his sword at neck height. The blade flashed through empty air, but he had expected that. A second, third, and fourth swing would have gutted, hamstrung and decapitated his hidden foe. But the intruder dodged, spun and leaned sideways out of his reach.

  “Show yourself!” Butu shouted at his opponent.

  “I’m unarmed,” Amber said as she materialized. She looked terrified, but she was indeed unarmed.

  She has more magic than any of us. She could easily sneak away with Pisor.

  “Amber! What are you doing here?” Butu demanded.

  She was trembling and breathless, eyeing him fearfully. Butu put away his sword, and she visibly relaxed.

  “Sorry,” Butu said. “I thought you were another thief looking for Pisor.”

  “Like you?” she asked. She still looked wary, but her lips twitched with some amusement.

  Butu ignored the jibe. “How did you even find us?”

  She took a deep breath. “You know the marble I gave you? It’s a very minor miraman. Child or adult — if you give it to someone, you can find them no matter where they are.”

  Butu clasped the pouch of marbles at his belt.

  “That’s how Beker followed me in the shanjin. It wasn’t any use to us once we were lost together. I gave it to you because...” She trailed off, blushing. “I don’t really know why I gave it to you. In the shanjin, you were kind to me. You saved my life and brought me back to my clan.”

  “They’re not looking for us. They’re looking for you,” Butu murmured.

  She tilted her head in confusion. “For me?” The realization struck her. “Oh, you mean the soldiers. Yes. They’re supposed to protect me, but I snuck away.”

  “If they find us, they’ll kill us.”

 
Amber let out a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry, but I had to come down here.”

  “Why?”

  “To find you,” she said cheerfully. She couldn’t meet his gaze though. “And to find Pisor.”

  “We can’t let your uncle have Pisor,” Butu said.

  “But he’s sick. Pisor is the only thing that can cure him, but only if he’s king.”

  “He broke his word to you, Amber. His sordenu were going to execute Lujo and me.”

  She frowned. “I’m sure he didn’t mean for that to happen. I’ve heard sordenu can be rough on people they think have broken the treaty, but I can’t imagine them killing anyone without orders. One time, my brother told me ...”

  “Some of the ones who did it were there,” Butu interrupted. “They knew Philquek’s orders.”

  She blinked but recovered from her shock quickly. She pointed a finger at his chest. “Do you think Aesh or your kluntra would make a better king?” she demanded.

  He took an involuntary step backward. “No.” A pause. “I don’t think anyone should be king. You’ve seen the city. You’ve seen this.” Butu gestured at the statues. “I’m not going to let anyone do something like this again.”

  “I’ve also seen what’s going on outside, and you haven’t,” she countered. “The Akdren are in trouble. We’re trapped in Urgaruna with little food and less water, and there doesn’t seem to be any way out that doesn’t end in a desperate fight against the Kadrak.”

  “Which you’d probably lose, right?” Butu was beginning to understand.

  Amber shrugged. “We can’t get out, and the Kadrak aren’t going to leave until they force their way in. They want Pisor, and they’re convinced it’s somewhere in Urgaruna.”

  “You could just surrender and let Aesh al’Kadrak have it,” Butu suggested.

  She shook her head, beads swinging back and forth. “The Kadrak and Akdren are old enemies. If a Kadrak becomes king, he’s not going to show mercy to the Akdren who almost got Pisor before he did.”

  “Maybe we can sneak out and give Pisor to Jusep. He’s an ally of the Kadrak, but he doesn’t hate the Akdren as much as they do.”

  “You’ll never make it out. There are thousands of Akdren in Urgaruna.”

  “We snuck in,” Butu reminded her.

  Amber raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing.

  After a moment, Butu rubbed his shaved head with one hand. “Okay, so sneaking out of a fortress in the middle of a siege would be a lot harder,” he conceded. “But what are you suggesting we do?”

  “Make a king.”

  “What if I’m under orders not to?”

  “Then give Pisor to me. I’m sure Philquek will make a good king, and I’ll make sure he lets you go free after he’s done killing everyone outside the rock.” She gave him an impish grin out of place with the subject.

  Butu shuddered.

  “Sorry.” Her smile was sad, now. “That’s the way things are, right now. There will be a king whether we make one or not.”

  And this way, we might be able to choose a king who won’t be a tyrant. If I were kingmaker, who would I make king?

  Butu tried to push the thought aside. “But we don’t even know where Pisor is.”

  “I do.”

  Of course. Her magic is only starting to fade. Butu reached a decision. “Tell me where to find it.”

  “Yes, tell us,” Blay’s voice said from outside the room.