by Ben Wolf
“It was a rebellion, regardless of what you call it.” Avian rubbed his forehead. “And you admitted to leading it.”
“It is the people’s right to—”
“We’re not talking about the people’s rights. We’re talking about your actions. Yours alone.” Avian pointed at Condor. “More than one hundred people—our people—died as a result of your ‘uprising.’ How do you account for that?”
Condor scoffed. “Your soldiers killed them.”
“What few members of the Royal Guard who followed you died at the hands of General Balena’s soldiers, as well as some of the soldiers themselves, before you fled from the Realm,” Avian said. “All of their deaths rest solely on your shoulders.”
“And how many poor Windgales have died on the ground below Aeropolis because you refuse to provide them with aid? Because your excesses have diminished their resources, and thus their chances of survival? Because of your secrets?”
Condor stepped forward, but the Wisp who held his chain pulled him back. He winced, but otherwise it didn’t prevent him from speaking.
“Those hundred fighters died because you refuse to divulge the truth, a truth that would make every Windgale free for the rest of their lives. If I bear the weight of a hundred deaths on my shoulders, you and your oligarchy bear the weight of thousands on yours.”
Lilly glanced at her father, but he remained focused on the accused. What is Condor talking about?
“Your hypocrisy is boundless.” Avian stood and smacked his palms flat on the table. “You could have revealed that secret to the dozens of Windgales in your brood, but you didn’t. You maintained it for the same reasons that we do.”
“Even if I had revealed it, it would’ve changed nothing for the Windgales who followed me, and you know exactly why that’s the case.” Condor’s impassioned tone persisted. “You keep it secret solely because you need to maintain control.”
“We need to maintain order.”
Secrets? What are they talking about? What mysteries of Lilly’s people had her father not yet revealed to her?
Condor shot back, “You’re manipulating our people to enhance your luxurious lifestyle.”
“When you were Captain of the Royal Guard, you partook in them as well, yet now you hang the blame on me? More hypocrisy,” Avian countered.
“Except that unlike you, my excess ceased when I chose to try to level the terms. I gave up everything to reconcile our misdeeds to the people.”
“Enough.” Avian held up his hands. “My reign is not the subject of this hearing. Your decisions landed you before this council, and this council will now rule on your fate. Whether you recognize our authority or not, those chains that bind you belong to us, and thus, so do you.”
General Balena leaned nearer to Avian. “Premier—”
Condor sneered. “You may own these chains, but you’ll never own me.”
“Premier?” General Balena touched Avian’s forearm, but Avian brushed his hand away.
Avian shouted, “Your fate is all but sealed! I’ll see you executed for your crimes.”
“Avian.” General Balena clamped his armored hand around Avian’s wrist and pulled him away from the table so their backs faced Condor and the crowd. General Balena outweighed Lilly’s father by at least fifty pounds, and he had no trouble physically moving Avian.
Lilly wished she could hear what General Balena whispered to her father. Instead, Condor’s eyes met hers again, and her stomach leaped. Something about his eyes swirled her emotions.
She didn’t feel this way when she looked at Falcroné, or Axel, or even Calum. His allure transcended any of theirs, but it was also accompanied by a sense of danger. Maybe that’s why she found him so intriguing in the first place.
When Condor winked at her, Lilly had to look away again. Dangerous, indeed.
General Balena turned around first, then Avian, who said, “We will hear no more discussion on your crimes, Condor, as I have decreed.”
Condor craned his neck to address the crowd. “Like I said, all the final decisions are made by one man instead of by the people.”
General Balena pointed his index finger at Condor. “If he utters so much as another word without us asking him a direct question, cut out his tongue.”
As far as Lilly knew, General Balena had never made a joke in his life, nor had he even laughed at one. His command regarding Condor was no exception.
The Wisp produced a small knife from his belt and held it near Condor’s lips, but Condor’s indignation persisted in the form of a rebellious smirk.
General Balena sat in his chair, but Avian remained standing.
“Condor, disgraced former Captain of the Royal Guard and leader of the defunct rebel faction called the Raven’s Brood,” Avian said, “on the charges brought against you for your crimes against the Sky Realm, we, the council will now rule on your case.”
Down the line, from the Wisp closest to Lilly on the left side of the table down to the Wisp farthest from her on the opposite end, the council members repeated the word, “Guilty.” As was their custom, the Premier’s vote came last. Like all the rest, her father said, “Guilty.”
“According to our laws, with a unanimous vote of guilt, we are obliged to call for a second vote to determine whether or not you deserve the death penalty.” Avian motioned toward Lilly’s end of the table. “By law, that vote—yea for the death penalty and nay to stay the sword of justice—must also be unanimous. Do you have anything to say in your defense before we decide your fate?”
The Wisp pulled the knife away from Condor’s mouth, and Condor straightened his posture. “I’d rather die as a traitor than live as a servant of corruption.”
“Very well.” Avian’s frown deepened, and he looked down the line. “Votes?”
“Yea,” said the first council member.
Twice. Three times. Falcroné added a fourth without any hesitation, and then the vote fell to General Balena, who remained silent for a long moment. Finally, he looked at Condor with steel in his eyes and said, “Yea.”
Condor bowed his head. He must have known, as Lilly did, that the three remaining council members would also vote for his death, and they did.
But neither of them expected Avian to say “Nay.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Condor’s head popped up and he stared at Avian with his mouth open slightly. Lilly, Falcroné, General Balena, and everyone else in the room did likewise.
“Death is too convenient for you, Condor. You expected an easy way out, a swift end to your miserable life in exchange for the harm you inflicted on your people.” Avian shook his head. “I will not grant it.
“Executing you would make you a martyr to those in the Sky Realm who believe the lies you espouse, but martyrs cannot earn that title with the blood of others. No, you will live the remainder of your life as a slave. Not to me, nor to anyone in this Realm, but to harsher masters than any known to Kanarah.”
Lilly covered her hand with her mouth. She already knew where her father meant to send Condor for his crimes.
“I sentence you to one hundred years of hard labor in the Blood Chasm.”
The crowd rumbled with mutters and gasps until General Balena held up his hand. “Premier, decisions like these must be made by majority vote of the council. To send Condor to that place without—”
“Then we’ll vote.” Avian’s gaze met those of each of the Wisps on the council. “What say you, Lord Elmond? Yea or nay to Condor’s punishment?”
The Wisp nearest to Lilly shook his head. “Nay. That place ought to be shut down for good. No living creature deserves a fate like what you’re suggesting.”
“Very well. Lady Sandaria?”
“Yea.”
Avian nodded to her, then focused on the next Wisp. “Lord Jansson?”
“Nay.”
“Yea,” Falcroné said before Avian could call his name. “He deserves the worst. I say we give it to him.”
Having b
een captured by slave traders, the idea of anyone being enslaved grated against her judgment. Worse yet, having encountered two Gronyxes in the tunnels under Trader’s Pass, she knew all too well what Condor might have to face in Western Kanarah’s subterranean realm.
Lilly’s eyes locked with Falcroné’s, and she set her jaw. Falcroné had given his answer out of spite more than from a desire for justice. They’d once been friends while training to become officers, even as close as brothers, despite Condor’s ascension from the lower caste.
Apparently, Condor’s betrayal had destroyed whatever friendship they’d shared, but even so, Lilly couldn’t help the disdain she felt for his behavior.
Avian smirked at Condor then turned to General Balena. “General?”
“I have seen the Blood Chasm and witnessed the evil that dwells there firsthand,” he began. “I’ve watched the slaves fight for their lives against them, only to die slow, torturous deaths. I will not vote to subject even the worst offender to such a fate.
“Furthermore, the Blood Chasm should be abandoned indefinitely for the good of all Kanarah, not perpetuated by sending another soul to his demise there.” General Balena folded his arms and stared at Avian. “I vote ‘nay.’”
Avian’s smirk dissipated while General Balena spoke, and it devolved into a scowl by the time he finished. He looked at the next council member. “Lady Katalina?”
“Nay. I agree with General Balena, Lord Jansson, and Lord Elmond. The punishment is too severe for one of our own.”
Lilly raised her eyebrows. One more vote, and Condor would avoid the Blood Chasm.
Avian’s scowl hardened. Through clenched teeth, he asked, “And what do you think, Lady Gremia?”
“Yea. Send him to the pit, and may he die the slow, miserable death General Balena described.” Lady Gremia frowned and narrowed her dark eyes at Condor. “My eldest son is gone because of him. If I cannot ensure him the death penalty, I must do what I can to ease the pain and suffering he has caused my household and that of the other families whose sons died in his rebellion.”
“Lord Namuel, the vote is yours.”
For as hard as Lilly’s heart pounded in her chest, she couldn’t imagine what Condor’s was doing in his. She knew nothing about Lord Namuel. Had he, too, lost someone in the rebellion? Did he tend toward mercy?
Lord Namuel rubbed his bare chin with thick fingers. “May he live to die a hundred deaths, one for each year of his sentence, one for each citizen who perished because of him. Yea.”
The crowd erupted in a mix of cheers and droning boos. All but one of the Wisps who stood guard around Condor faced the crowd with their swords at the ready. The crowd did not advance toward the council, but their ruckus continued nonetheless.
Lilly watched as her father, General Balena, and Falcroné all ascended into the air from their seats. Avian extended his arms in front of him, palms down, and boomed over the crowd, “Condor, disgraced former Captain of the Royal Guard and leader of the Raven’s Brood rebel faction, I hereby sentence you to one hundred years of slavery in the Blood Chasm.”
Condor’s stoic face did not crumble with emotion. He simply bowed his head again and closed his eyes.
Avian motioned toward the throne room doors. “Take him away.”
The Wisps who guarded Condor shoved him toward the crowd, their swords still unsheathed and ready for action should it find them. The Wisp who held the chain connected to Condor’s neck led the way, and the other three Wisps formed a diamond around Condor.
As they walked through the crowd, objects soared through the air at them. Shoes, rotten fruits and vegetables, and even stones whipped toward Condor from the crowd. The Wisps hurried him forward, but the crowd sealed off their exit before they could get out.
Lilly swiveled her head toward Falcroné, but he and General Balena had already darted toward the doors. They landed between Condor’s guards and the crowd and barked orders in ferocious tones.
The crowd parted just long enough for Condor and the Wisps to get through, and General Balena followed them out. Falcroné took to the air and returned to Avian’s side.
Lilly would never see Condor’s piercing blue eyes again. Perhaps it was for the best.
“This hearing is dismissed,” Falcroné bellowed. “Return to the day’s labors at once. Stragglers will be considered a threat to the realm’s safety and will be jailed immediately.”
As the crowd dissipated, Lilly couldn’t help but wonder if justice had been served in any capacity that day. She had lied to cover for Axel’s transgression, and her father had damned Condor to a terrible fate, one arguably worse than death. And Condor had accused her father of multiple wrongdoings as well.
Secrets. Rebellions. Threats. Injustice. Death. Where was the truth in all of it? Why was the Sky Realm so broken, so confused? Or the rest of Kanarah, for that matter?
Lilly clenched her fists. Someone ought to do something about it all.
Riley whimpered, careful not to be loud enough to wake Calum. He lay still, taking short shallow breaths, concealed in the shadows to the left of Calum’s bed.
He should’ve been safe there in the dark, but his brutal memories always managed to find him no matter where he went.
Silver flashed in his mind’s eye, and pain flared in his side. Condor’s blade pierced him again and again, every night in his memories and in his dreams. Nights like this one.
Hiding was about all he could do anymore. The wound may not have killed him, but he could no longer run, much less leap or jump or pounce.
He’d never amounted to much of a fighter anyway—he preferred to rely on his speed and his stealth to gain the advantage. When those failed, Riley could resort to the vicious, crazy part of him that he didn’t let out except in the very worst of times.
But his speed was gone now, taken away with one vicious stab from Condor’s blade, maybe permanently.
Perhaps he should have unleashed that vicious part of himself when he’d fought Condor. But even that vicious part had limits. Physical limits, more so now than ever.
Where Riley had always provided for himself, Condor’s sword had reduced him to little more than a beggar who could maybe rob other beggars. He would have to depend on Calum and his friends for food since he couldn’t hunt without pain.
Who was he kidding? He could barely breathe without pain.
Riley whimpered again and lay his head down on the floor. He was useless. A drag. He might as well stay here in the Sky Fortress as the Premier’s hound, like the common dog he’d insisted he wasn’t. He could eat scraps from the Premier’s dinner table and gnaw the meat off the bones leftover in the kitchen.
In time, perhaps he would even learn some tricks. He could already roll over, already play dead. Condor had taught him that one.
A long sigh escaped his mouth until it hurt to exhale any more. He closed his eyes in the darkness and wondered what misery he’d have to endure tomorrow.
When Avian summoned Calum, Axel, Magnus, and Riley for a private audience, Calum knew what it had to mean. He’d dreamed of Lumen in all his glory again last night, and they’d stayed at the Sky Fortress for far longer than he’d intended already. Aside from Axel’s sore arms and Riley’s ongoing recovery from his wound, they were healthy and ready to go.
Lilly stood at her father’s side in the throne room. Her golden hair seemed to sparkle under the sunlight that poured through the crystal-covered shafts in the throne room’s ceiling.
Falcroné stood next to her, and his hair shimmered just as much, if not more.
Calum suppressed a disheartened chuckle as he approached them. Falcroné was almost as “pretty” as Lilly was.
Zephyrra sat next to the Premier in a chair smaller than the throne with a pleasant smile on her face.
“My friends, welcome.” Avian lifted his arms, but did not stand. “Come forward.”
Calum performed the Windgale salute first and snuck a peek back to make sure Magnus and Axel did as well. Riley ju
st bowed slightly and licked his nose.
“We have news for you. In poring through our expansive archives, my court historians have discovered a map that may lead you to the Arcanum.”
Calum glanced at Magnus, who nodded. “May we see it?”
“You may have it.” Avian grinned. “No one in the Sky Realm desires to use it, so it is yours for the taking. Kanton?”
From behind the pillars on the right side of the throne room, Kanton floated into view. He held a rolled-up, yellow-brown piece of parchment in his left hand. He landed in front of them and extended the parchment to Calum.
“You’re a court historian now?” Calum asked.
“No. Not in the least. I can’t read a single word on this map, much less an entire book.”
Calum glanced at Avian, then back at Kanton. “Then what are you doing here?”
Kanton smiled then turned back to the Premier. “Do you want to tell him, or can I?”
Avian grinned again and waved his hand toward them, palm up.
“I’m going with you.” Kanton winked at Calum.
“What? Really?” Calum couldn’t help but smile too. “Are you serious?”
“Serious as any man ever was.” Kanton nodded toward Avian. “The Premier was kind enough to grant me this grand favor in light of my small role in helping Princess Lilly get home—that is, helping her rescuers up to Aeropolis in a time of need. When I asked to join your group, he gave me his blessing immediately. That is, if you’ll have me.”
Calum eyed Lilly over Kanton’s shoulder, but she looked down at the floor instead of at him. She really wasn’t coming along, just like she had said. Kanton was supposed to be her replacement, in a way. It was a nice gesture, but the thought of her not traveling with them ripped the hole in Calum’s heart all over again.
“You already know I’m good with my hands—from a healing perspective, that is—but I’m also not too bad with a staff or a spear. Had plenty of years protecting the Premier’s sheep on the ground level by fending off his kind—” Kanton nodded at Riley. “—and wild beasts of other sorts too.