by Jade Mere
“Be careful,” Tahki said. “My name is one of those names where if you say it too many times, it starts to sound strange.”
Rye looked behind him. He turned to the left, to the right, and then stared straight ahead. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t understand what?”
Rye appeared dazed. “I just saw you a second ago.”
“What?”
“You and I, we were just outside together. I called your name, but you ignored me.”
“Are you sure it was me?”
Rye licked his lips. “Is this a game or something?” He squinted. “And how did you change your clothing so fast?”
Tahki almost smiled, almost laughed at how Rye had mistook him for one of Zinc’s men, but then his feet went cold, then his legs, arms, all the way up to his neck. The sounds of the men and women became a faint ringing in his ears. Rye’s face blurred, his lips moving a centimeter a minute. Rye hadn’t mistaken him for one of Zinc’s men.
Sornjia was here. Sornjia had come to the castle.
“Are you all right?”
Tahki blinked. “Where did you say you saw me?”
“While it’s nice to learn you have a sense of humor,” Rye said, “do you think this is an appropriate time for jokes?”
“Rye. Where did you see me?” He nearly yelled it. One of Zinc’s men eyed the two of them.
Rye gave him a concerned look. “Outside. And then you headed down to the basement. I tried to catch up, but they needed me here.” He hesitated and then said, “I guess I saw wrong.”
Panic swept through Tahki. “Where is Dyraien?”
“Haven’t seen him.”
A crash outside drew Rye’s attention. “Dammit,” he said. “That’s the third one.” He looked back at Tahki. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but we’ll talk later.”
Tahki nodded, and Rye jogged over to a fallen crate. Tahki darted left, grabbed the door down to the basement, yanked it open, and sprinted into the dark. When he reached the black gates, he stopped. They were pulled shut, and he feared they might be locked, until a cool draft brushed his face. The gates were opened. Only a crack, but enough to see through. Tahki pressed an eye to the slit and peered into the circular dirt room.
Dyraien and Zinc stood in the center. Tahki pushed the gate open an inch more so he could see better. The sound of the rumbling river was enough to block any creaks. He viewed the entire room, but his eyes fixed on Zinc.
There, grasped tight in his thick hands, Sornjia slouched. He was forced to his knees, his head lowered, not resisting.
Tahki’s heart thudded fast.
“I told you he was trouble,” Zinc said. “Knew the first moment I seen him he was a spy.”
“Let’s not be hasty,” Dyraien said. “I’m sure he has a good explanation for doing what he did.”
Sornjia stayed quiet but glanced to his left.
Tahki pressed his eye closer. In the corner of the room he saw a dark heap: a man. His arms and legs were tied, his face bruised, his eyes crusted shut. He wore red and gold robes. His bald head bled a little.
Gotem. Sornjia must have tried to rescue him but was caught in the process. How he’d known where to look, Tahki didn’t know.
Dyraien followed Sornjia’s gaze to Gotem. “That man tried to sabotage my castle.” He knelt down, grabbed Sornjia’s chin, and raised his head. “What concerns me is how you knew about him and why you tried to free him.”
Sornjia kept his lips pressed tight.
“It’s in your best interest to speak,” Dyraien said. “Here I am, accusing you of something very serious, and you haven’t said a word. I’m giving you a chance to explain yourself, Tahki.” Zinc dug his knee into Sornjia’s back.
Tahki felt sick. There was no more planning, no more wondering how he’d confront Dyraien, no more worrying how he’d explain himself to Rye. His time was up. Sornjia had been captured. Now, both Dyraien and Rye would know the lies he’d told.
Dyraien released Sornjia’s face. “You know, I hadn’t noticed it until now, but your skin, it looks like his, slightly golden, a trait specifically belonging to a certain region of the world.” He motioned toward Gotem. “Which makes me want to ask if you’re from Dhaulen’aii. If you came here to gather information about the queen and bring it back to your people.”
Sornjia didn’t look at him.
“Answer him,” Zinc said, and twisted his arm in an unnatural angle. Tahki had never felt such a burning desire to take someone’s life before.
Dyraien held up his hand. “His silence tells me everything I need to know. Tie him up with the monk.”
“You’re a crow,” Sornjia said.
Dyraien faced him. “I’m a what?”
“A crow,” Sornjia said. “A liar. A trickster. You climb into shadows and turn day into night.”
Dyraien stared. “The way you talk. It’s like before, when I saw you at Gale’s.”
Tahki dug his nails into the wood of the door. He had no idea how he’d get Sornjia free without being seen. He could attack them, but he had no weapons.
“You need to stop this, Dyraien,” Sornjia said. “Your family has done wrong, but you can stop the wickedness. I know deep down you’re not like your mother.”
Dyraien smirked. “You don’t know anything.”
With a straight, calm face, Sornjia said, “I know you’re trying to open the Dim. I know Gotem isn’t a spy, he’s a mystic. You’ve stolen him from his home and are going to use him to open the Dim, just like your mother and grandmother and great-grandmother and great-great-grandmother. You turned the castle into a weapon in order to keep the pathway open.”
Tahki watched as the persona Dyraien had played over the weeks crumbled. The charming, well-to-do prince shattered, and he was left gaping, his eyes wide, his face frozen in shock. If the world could see him now, Tahki wouldn’t need Gotem or the stone to prove Dyraien’s guilt.
“This some kinda joke?” Zinc said. “How does he know about the plan, D? You said only you, me, and Hona knew. D? How does he know?”
“Shut your mouth,” Dyraien said to Zinc. “Just shut up. Shut up!” He ran his hand through his hair. A wild panic set in his eyes. “You can’t know that. There’s no way you could possibly know that.”
“There’s still time to make this right,” Sornjia said.
Dyraien eyed him. “Who are you?”
“I’m someone who can help you.”
For a second, a look of defeat, or maybe it was relief, flashed in Dyraien’s eyes. Tahki thought he might actually release Sornjia. But then his face hardened. “You’re trying to trick me. Distract me. I don’t know who sent you, but I don’t play other people’s games. I’m the one in control here.”
“I don’t think you’re as in control as you think you are,” Sornjia said.
Dyraien made a fist and brought it hard against Sornjia’s jaw. Tahki heard bone meet bone and cringed. If it hurt, Sornjia didn’t show it. Tahki’d never seen Dyraien look so unsuppressed. So out of control. His hair hung in clumps over his eyes; his breath came in ragged waves, like something had broken inside him. But a moment later he composed himself. He brushed his hair back and took a deep breath.
“We need to act now,” Dyraien said to Zinc.
“Now?” Zinc licked his lips. “But they ain’t done putting the castle together.”
“It needs to be now,” Dyraien said. “We have a real traitor to blame.”
Zinc hesitated a moment and then flashed a yellow-toothed grin. “What about Rye?”
“Rye will believe what I tell him.” Dyraien clenched his teeth and looked at Sornjia. “Family always forgive one another, no matter how terrible a crime they commit.” He faced Zinc. “Go.”
Zinc cracked his knuckles. “Won’t be long.” He used his belt to tie Sornjia’s hands, and then he walked toward the door. Tahki jumped under the wooden stairs and crouched in the shadows. Zinc ran up and out of sight. Tahki wanted to follow, fearf
ul of what the man might do, but hated the idea of leaving Sornjia alone with Dyraien. He crept back to the door and peered inside. Even with Zinc gone, he didn’t think he could take Dyraien in a fight. If he was caught too, what good would he be to his brother?
“Tell me something,” Dyraien said to Sornjia. “Your passion for architecture, all those times your eyes flared with excitement when I spoke to you about the project, your constant need for approval… was it all a lie? An act?” He bent down, reached out, rested his hand on Sornjia’s shoulder. “How could you be dishonest with me, after all I’ve done for you?”
Sornjia stared back at him. “Your words fall from your mouth the way acid rain falls in the jungle.”
Dyraien stood. “I liked you, you know. I don’t like many people, but your passion for technology impressed me. I thought you would understand what I’m trying to achieve.”
“You know what you’re doing is wrong. It’s why you didn’t tell Rye. You knew he’d try to stop you.”
Any chance to reason with Dyraien faded. A fierce defensiveness came into his voice. “Rye is my brother. Mine. If you think he’ll choose you over me just because you opened your legs for him, you’re going to be thoroughly disappointed.”
And then Dyraien stepped back and coughed hard. He rubbed his eyes vigorously, ruffled his hair into a frantic mess, and proceeded to slap himself across the face again and again and again, until his checks burned bright red.
Tahki watched, both curious and horrified at the prince’s odd behavior. Sornjia, too, appeared at a loss as to why Dyraien beat himself. By the time Zinc returned, Dyraien looked crazed and fevered. Zinc, unaffected by his dishevelment, grabbed Sornjia and shoved a rag in his mouth.
“Done,” Zinc said.
Dyraien panted. “Good.” And then said in a hesitant voice, “Was it quick?”
Zinc shrugged. “Does it matter? What’s done is done.”
Dyraien nodded, more to himself than to Zinc. “And Rye? He didn’t see you?”
“Everyone is on the third floor,” Zinc said. “They’ve started the isolation.”
“You mean the installation,” Dyraien corrected.
“Tomato, potato.” Zinc spat.
“Very well. Let’s get on with the show. Give me two minutes, then bring him up.”
“Alive?”
“Of course alive.”
Tahki hid again as Dyraien left the black gates and limped upstairs. This time, Tahki followed him. He waited a moment and watched as Dyraien moved into the center of the entranceway. When his back was turned, Tahki darted behind a partially broken pillar. He barely had time to take cover before Dyraien’s voice rang through the halls. “Rye! Gale! Anyone! Come quickly!”
It didn’t take long for Rye and some of Zinc’s men to appear. A few pieces of obsidian cut Tahki’s leg as he kneeled. He ignored the sharp pokes.
“What’s wrong?” Rye said as he reached the bottom step. “What happened to you?”
Dyraien’s body shook. “Mother, she… she….”
“What?”
Dyraien swallowed. “She’s been killed.”
Tahki felt cold.
Rye stared. “The queen is dead?”
Dyraien nodded. “She was killed. Murdered in her own bed.”
Rye darted up the staircase. Tahki didn’t dare think what Zinc had done. What Dyraien had told him to do. But Rye reappeared a moment later, a look of shock on his face, and Tahki covered his mouth with his hand. It didn’t make sense. Why would Dyraien have his own mother killed, after going to great lengths to keep her alive and take care of her?
“Who would have done something like this?” Rye said. He put his hand to his forehead and took a deep breath. “Zinc. It had to be Zinc.” Tahki felt a surge of gratitude toward Rye. He wanted to jump out and tell him it was true, Zinc had killed Queen Genevi, but he wouldn’t risk it with Sornjia still held hostage.
“It wasn’t Zinc,” Dyraien whispered.
“How do you know?”
“Because I saw who did it.”
“Who? Who did this?”
Dyraien’s jaw trembled. “I trusted him. He was so smart, so kind. I never thought he was capable of something like this.”
“Dyraien, who are you talking about?”
All the blood seemed to drain from Tahki’s body. He felt light-headed, a surreal sense of place and time drifting over him. He crouched only a few meters away, close enough to hear every sharp inhalation Rye took, every false sob Dyraien sputtered.
“He fooled us both,” Dyraien said. “With his pretty face and clever designs.”
Rye didn’t move. “No.”
Dyraien sniffed and wiped his eyes. “I saw him, Rye. Saw him leave her room with a bloody knife. He sliced her neck. I didn’t know what he’d done until I saw her, dead on the floor.”
Rye shook his head rapidly. “You’re wrong. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Tahki.”
“It wasn’t me,” Tahki whispered.
Dyraien grabbed Rye’s neck and drew their foreheads together. “I know how you felt about him. I know you wanted to trust him. But you still have me, Rye. You and I, we’re never alone, so long as we have each other.”
Rye pulled away. “Tahki didn’t do this.”
“He did,” Dyraien said. “He’s already confessed his crimes.”
Then as though queued like an actor in a theatrical performance, Zinc stepped out of the basement, dragging a tied and gagged Sornjia behind him. Zinc shoved Sornjia to the floor in front of them.
“He’s from Dhaulen’aii,” Dyraien said, loud enough for Zinc’s men on the third floor to hear. “He’s a spy, sent here to kill the queen and sabotage our plans.”
The men and women above murmured among themselves. Witnesses, Tahki realized. People who would support Dyraien’s claim. And if he could get Rye to believe him, Rye would convince Gale, and everyone would blame Tahki.
“That makes no sense,” Rye said. “Why would he help us with the castle if he was a spy?”
“Authenticity,” Dyraien said in an exasperated tone. “He used it to get us to trust him. To confide our secrets to him.”
“Untie him,” Rye demanded. “I want to hear his story.”
“So he can lie and manipulate you?”
“So he can explain himself.”
“He really has you wrapped around his sad little finger, doesn’t he?” Dyraien said. “My mother’s corpse rots in her room. He is a traitor. And you know what happens to traitors.”
Zinc pulled a knife from a sheath and crouched down beside Sornjia.
“No!” Rye yelled. Two of Zinc’s men descended from above and restrained him. Rye brought his elbow into the chest of one and slammed his fist into the face of the other. Three more men and two women fell on him, shoving his arms behind his back, grabbing any part of him they could hold.
Tahki couldn’t move. Everything knotted up.
Zinc brought the knife to Sornjia’s throat. The silver blade glinted in the light. Zinc smirked and licked his lips. He was going to cut Sornjia’s throat. Sornjia was going to die. No one would save him, and it was all Tahki’s fault.
Every part of him screamed: Go. Run. Act. Black obsidian pressed around him, reflecting his body at every angle. His breath caught in his throat. The scent of sweat and blood and death moved across him like a shadow, and he saw his brother’s blood spill in his mind, a lake of red.
Tahki gripped a cool obsidian shard from the floor. He grasped it so tightly the sharp sides bled his palm, a warm sensation running down his fingers. Zinc pressed the blade into Sornjia’s neck, and Tahki leaped from his hiding spot. He cleared the room in five wide strides and swung the obsidian across Zinc’s head before anyone could react. The glasslike stone shattered as it cut into his head. Zinc cried out, stumbled back, and writhed on the floor.
Tahki stood over Sornjia and untied him. “Are you all right?”
Sornjia nodded.
Once Sornjia was free, Tahki spun aroun
d. Every face in the room turned his way. Rye and Dyraien looked shocked and confused. Zinc cursed. Zinc’s people looked to their leader for direction.
“How are there two of you?” Dyraien said.
“There’s only one of me,” Tahki said. “This is Sornjia, my twin brother.”
Dyraien looked from Tahki to Sornjia. “Proof. This is proof! Proof he lied to us! Proof he killed the queen!” He faced Rye, obviously trying to turn the situation to his advantage. “Don’t you see now? Don’t you see he lied?”
Rye didn’t move, his expression unreadable.
“You’re wrong,” Sornjia said. “My brother didn’t kill anyone. You killed your mother, Dyraien, and tried to frame him.”
“Liar,” Dyraien said. “Rye, we’ve been fooled. Tahki is a spy from Dhaulen’aii. Him and his doppelgänger.”
“Why don’t you tell him, Dyraien,” Tahki said. “Tell Rye the true purpose of this castle. Tell him how you planned to kill a man in order to open the Dim. Tell him about the Királye conquest.”
Dyraien faced Rye. “Do you hear him? He’s mad, Rye. He’s a liar and a traitor and he’s mad!”
Rye looked from Sornjia to Tahki, and Tahki wished he’d been honest with him from the start. But before any explanations could be given, a cry erupted from behind.
“You little shit!” Zinc said. He stood now, a pistol in his hand, blood clumping on the side of his head. “I’ll blow both your fucking brains to the seventh hell!” Zinc aimed the pistol at Tahki’s chest and pulled the trigger.
Tahki blinked. Gunpowder filled his nose. Bells chimed in his head. He wasn’t sure if he heard someone scream or if he had screamed. He didn’t know if his eyes were open or shut. The ends of his fingertips tingled, and he felt a heavy weight tremble against his body. He looked down, chin pressed against his chest, teeth grinding against one another.
Sornjia’s body leaned into him. Blood dripped from his brother’s shoulder onto his arm. The white marble beneath them turned crimson. He could feel every heave his brother took, and as he felt the rise and fall of his chest, as he watched his brother’s eyes blink rapidly, he understood.
Sornjia had put himself in the bullet’s path.