by A. Blythe
The next morning I awoke to the smell of bacon. I was glad Mix wasn’t here to worry about Annie’s feelings. I padded into the kitchen in one of Reed’s shirts to find him singing to himself and working the frying pan.
“Smells good,” I said.
He turned and smiled. “Just want to make sure we have a healthy breakfast before we go off to storm the castle…or compound.”
I sat at the table where a steaming cup of coffee greeted me. “There’s no ‘we,’ Reed. This fight is all mine.”
He released the frying pan and stared at me. “There’s a ‘we,’ Alyse. Don’t kid yourself.”
I sipped the coffee. “You and I are fine, Reed. Better than fine. Don’t make this about us.”
His jaw tensed. “Prince Simdan is a powerful Marid like you. Taking him on won’t be easy on your own.”
“I appreciate your concern.”
“Don’t be like that.” He transferred the bacon to a plate and patted the grease away with a paper towel. “Eggs?”
“No thanks. Toast, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Nothing is too much trouble for you, Alyse.”
I sighed. I knew he meant it. He proved it to me every day.
“Why are you so good to me?”
“Because I love you.” He placed a plate with delicious bacon in front of me. “Toast is on the way.”
He said it so simply, so matter-of-factly. Like why wouldn’t he love me? My heart soared. Before he returned to the counter, I reached out and clasped his hand. “I love you, too.”
He squeezed once and let go. “Butter?”
“What am I—a heathen?”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“And a sprinkle of cinnamon if you have it.”
He rummaged through the cupboard and plucked a small container of cinnamon from the spice shelf.
“Will you at least let us hover nearby in case you need help?” he asked.
I shook my head. “I’m not risking anyone’s safety. Not now. The Dragon is done and changes are coming to the colony. I need good people still standing to take the reins.”
He crossed the room, serving me the plate of toast. “You’re good people, Alyse. No one would question it. Not anymore. You should be here to help the city transition.”
I bit into the toast and let the comforting taste of butter and cinnamon melt in my mouth. Bacon and toast. It didn’t get much better than this.
“When this is finally over, I intend to be,” I said firmly.
I stood in the grand foyer of the compound, waiting for Prince Simdan to make his appearance. I was just about to break into his office when the peacock strutted into the foyer. His dark suit was bespoke, as always, and perfectly tailored to fit his slight frame. I knew better than to be fooled by his size, though. He was powerful.
But so was I.
“Word has spread about the Dragon,” he said. “Serena Edwards.” He clucked his tongue. “Who would have guessed? Do I understand I have you to thank for eliminating the threat?”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I said. “We have matters to discuss first.”
He eyed me curiously. “Such as?”
“Serena passed along a bit of critical information before she died.”
“Before you killed her.”
I gave a slight shrug. “I never said I killed her.”
“How did you manage to have your cuffs removed?” He smiled appreciatively. “My little Alyse, always so resourceful.”
“I was never your Alyse,” I spat.
“No,” he agreed. “Such rebellion. What’s your pet name for me again? His Royal Pain-in-the-Ass?”
“Jackass,” I ground out. “His Royal Jackass.”
He showed his teeth. “I don’t seem like such a jackass now, do I?”
He knew.
“Why did you kill the PAN assets?” I asked.
He paced the width of the floor. “Why do you think? They discovered my dirty little secret. I couldn’t afford to let them live.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You realize what PAN will do to you when they realize you’re responsible?” I shook my head. “You’ve always been so loyal to PAN. How could you do this?”
“PAN will never know what I’ve done,” he sniffed. “Besides, these were mere assets.”
Mere assets.
“I won’t tell a soul if you won’t,” he said, lowering his voice. “Now it will be our little secret.”
“I’m not a fan of secrets,” I said. “Especially ones that protect murderers.”
“Casting stones, are we?” He huffed in a dramatic fashion. Typical Prince Simdan. “Such a smart young woman, yet so often blind to those closest to you. I only wanted the best for you.”
“We were never close,” I snapped. “I never liked you and I certainly didn’t want to be near you.”
“Yes, I received that message loud and clear.”
“Why cuff me and drag me back here?” I asked. “There are plenty of powerful Marida in this colony. Choose someone else to be your lap dog.”
He clucked his tongue. “Now Alyse, surely you can understand my position," he said. "All of your power. The loyalty you instill in others. These qualities were wasted. I had to do something."
The ground shook beneath my feet as my anger transferred from my body to the air around me. "You had no right," I said through gritted teeth. "You enslaved me."
"It was never meant to be permanent," he said. "Once I had you where I wanted you, I planned to have the cuffs removed. I didn't anticipate certain events."
"You mean like Jamie Fenton?”
“I had no involvement in your handler’s death,” he said primly.
“His death was an indirect consequence of your actions,” I seethed.
Prince Simdan flicked his fingers in a dismissive gesture. “Jamie Fenton was a human. I don’t concern myself with humans.”
“He was more than a human. He was a friend, Your Highness." I spit out his title with as much venom as I could muster. "Innocent people died because of you."
He gave me a look of utter disgust. "Innocent people die every day, by the minute. So what?" He advanced toward me, his expression darkening. "You could have been a light in the darkness, Alyse. PAN needs a strong hand. A strong Marid to lead. It should have been you."
I tried to clear my head. "Why the elaborate ruse to drag me back here?”
He barked a short laugh. "As though you would have willingly done my bidding? If I had asked you to pretty please, upon your graduation from the Academy, accept the role the PAN gave you, what would you have said?"
I would have said no and we both knew it.
"You have been the only one to defy me," he said. "When you were younger, I wasn't sure whether it was simply a rebellious streak or a personality flaw.” He smiled, and my blood ran cold. “Either way, I admired it greatly. You were always tough, at least. So tough. Even after Esme died, you remained resolute as I knew you would. You were only a child, yet I recognized greatness when confronted with it."
As he knew I would? He’d slipped and the expression on his face told me that he knew it. Another deception uncovered.
“Esme…” I choked out. “You sent the Ghuls?” A class trip to Baltimore. Two guardians were killed. It had seemed like a random attack.
His face hardened. “She was holding you back. Coddling you. I knew if I could break the bond that you would come into your own and I was right.” His dark eyes flashed with pride and it sickened me.
“Why kill her? Why not just reassign her?”
“It wouldn’t have been as traumatic,” he said, as though discussing the weather. “I needed to rip you apart and put you back together. I knew how much you cared for one another.”
“Then I’ll bet you were thrilled when you heard the news about Jamie,” I croaked.
His shoulders lifted slightly. An acknowledgement. “It was serendipity as far as I was concerned. After all, he was the reason you were still wi
th the Shadow Elite.”
“No, he wasn’t,” I yelled. “He wanted me to leave. To think about my future and use my powers for a worthy cause. You didn’t know that, though, because you didn’t know him.”
“There are always casualties in war,” Prince Simdan remarked.
“There’s no war,” I boomed. “Just your stupid power games. There’s no need for any of it. I’m not going to let you hurt one more innocent person. Not ever.”
“And how do you propose to stop me?” he asked. “You’re in my compound. With my people. I am the royal ruler of this colony and you are nothing but a disgraced agent. Even if you managed to hurt me, you’d never leave here alive.”
I stared at him, still in shock. "I saved you from a coup attempt. I rid the city of the Dragon."
He slapped his side. "Exactly! You did what no one else managed to achieve with more power at their disposal. Even cuffed, you were a worthy adversary."
"You had to know that I would find out the truth eventually," I said. "And you also had to know that I would seek retribution.”
He sighed. “I assumed that by the time that happened, we would be in a different place.”
“Surprise, Your Royal Jackass. Your plan fell apart.”
He cocked his head. “Did it?”
“Um, yes. It did. I’m not joining PAN and I’m not catering to your sniveling whims. You lose, Simdan. Game over.” I refused to call him a prince. He didn’t deserve the respect.
His gaze flickered to my hands. He was waiting to see if I would make a move.
“As I said, it would be inadvisable to attack me in my compound, wouldn’t you agree?”
I shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know about that. Might be worth the effort.” I glanced around the grand room. “I’ve been considering moving out of Farah’s apartment.” I walked over to the wall and touched one of the elaborate tapestries. Magic surged within me. “I think this place will do nicely. Plenty of space for parties. I have a lot of friends, you know. Loyal, powerful friends.”
His jaw clenched. “You have always been welcome here, Alyse. Encouraged even. You know that.”
I sauntered across the room, eyeing the decor. “Yes, but I don’t want to move in as your guest. Taking down the Dragon has inspired me. I think it might be time for regime change.”
My soulfire ignited and power coursed through my veins. It felt good to be free again. To feel the magic emanating from my very core.
Prince Simdan shifted to mist, sensing my growing resolve. Bullies were always the biggest cowards.
“Come on, Prince,” I yelled, throwing my arms wide. “Let’s do this. Just me and you. No security. No minions. Two powerful djinn with a score to settle.”
I tried to sense where he’d materialize. As powerful as he was, he was also out of practice. He hadn’t needed to fight in years. It wasn’t necessary when he had plenty of djinn to do his fighting for him.
“You’re not afraid to mess up your beautiful suit, are you?” I called. “I promise I’ll aim for the face. The suit will remain perfectly intact.”
No sign of my royal liege. There were, however, several Marida advancing toward me. I recognized one of them and he lowered his head as he approached.
“Prince Simdan requests that we escort you out,” he said regretfully.
“I’m sure that he does,” I replied. “But you realize I can’t do that.”
He gave a brief nod. “Then we’ve been advised to use any means necessary to persuade you.”
I inhaled deeply. I didn’t want any more blood on my hands. Certainly not the blood of my own caste.
“I don’t want to hurt any of you,” I said. “But I can’t let you kick me out of here. Can we agree to a truce?”
The familiar one shook his head. “Would that I could, Miss Winters. We owe our allegiance to the caste ruler.”
“What if there was no longer a single ruler in the colony?” I asked. “What if we introduced a council to make decisions collectively?”
The security team exchanged confused glances.
“That’s treason,” one of them said.
“Prince Simdan is no longer fit to rule,” I said. “Think about it. We’re the only remaining caste with a monarchy. Why is that? Because we’re better than everyone else? No, because we’re the most powerful and the existing leadership wants to make sure we don’t realize that we don’t need them anymore.” And we didn’t. We were more than capable of self-rule without the royal bullshit.
The security team conjured a wall of ice between us. I sent two grenades sailing to the left and right of them as a diversion. The second they turned away, I summoned a fireball and shot it straight through the middle, melting a pathway narrow enough for me to squeeze through.
They were fast, but I was faster.
I bent the light and made it through the barrier. I heard the applause before I’d fully materialized. Prince Simdan stood in front of me, his bespoke suit discarded in favor of bright blue Marid armor.
“Gearing up for battle, my liege?” I said. “When’s the last time you had to fight your own? Last century maybe?”
He snarled. “You may be powerful, Alyse, but I am still your crown prince.”
“And you never let me forget it,” I said. “Because you were terrified that I would overthrow you someday.” I sauntered toward him, unafraid. “Look here, Cassandra. Your prophecy was right all along.”
“You forget that I know your weaknesses, Alyse,” he said. “I’m not a faceless operative in the field for you to dance around.” He pointed to the ground between us and a nest of snakes appeared. I recognized the venomous black mambas. I continued walking toward him without breaking my stride.
“Nice try,” I said. “But I haven’t been afraid of snakes in years. I’m not the little girl you knew, Simdan. I haven’t been for a long time.”
I shifted to mist and glided over the snakes. When I materialized again, he was clutching a morning star.
“I haven’t seen you cuddling one of those in forever,” I said. “Watch out for the spikes at the head. They sting a bit. Worse than a snake bite.”
“Yes. I thought you might recognize this,” he said, twisting and turning the medieval weapon. The spiked club beckoned me as it whizzed around his head. It was the same one he used when I was a child to threaten me into submission. It worked when I was too young to know my own strength, but eventually I began summoning my own weapons and the morning star quietly departed.
I realized with a start what he was doing. He was trying to intimidate me by bringing up past traumas. Emotional warfare. Game on, Royal Jackass.
“I never pegged you for the sentimental type,” I said. “How sweet.”
He swung the spiked club at my head and I ducked, grabbing the shaft on the downswing, and yanked it upward. His grip tightened and he pulled the weapon toward him, dragging me with it. I broke free before I crashed into him.
“You hit me with it once,” I said. “Do you remember?”
“How can I forget?” he said, smiling at the memory. “You bled on my new Shiraz carpet.”
“Served you right.” I’d been six years old.
“You were an obstinate child,” he said. “You needed to learn subservience and discipline.” He wielded the morning star, ready to strike another blow.
“And you aimed to teach me?” I kicked high and caught him off guard, knocking the weapon from his grip. Before he could summon another one, I punched his nose and heard the satisfying crunch of bone. Blood oozed from his nostril. “That’s what I think of your teaching methods.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hand-to-hand combat, Alyse? That’s beneath you.”
“Physical contact is so much better,” I said. “Really warms the heart.” I grabbed him by the ears and head butted him. Our skulls cracked together and he staggered backward, unaccustomed to the up-close-and-personal brutality. I, on the other hand, had much experience in this department.
“You’re practically feral,” he spat. “How could I think you were destined to lead?” He summoned a small army of throwing spears and shot them toward me at the same time. I shifted to mist and easily dodged the copper tips.
“Here’s the problem with you, Simdan,” I said, materializing behind him. “You didn’t move with the times. You’re still summoning medieval weapons, for crying out loud.”
“When used with expert precision—” he said, the morning star returning to his hand—“they work fine.” He struck a glancing blow to my shoulder and I groaned.
“’Tis only a flesh wound,” I said, shrugging it off. No way was he getting the better of me. Not ever again.
I bent the light and appeared at the opposite end of the room. “How about I drag you into the twenty-first century, old timer?”
“I think you’ll find I’m already here. To stay, I might add.”
I summoned an AT4 and propped it up on my shoulder. Gods and stars. What a relief. I wasn’t sure if my power to summon major weapons would ever return.
His brow creased as he tried to figure out my chosen weapon. “You’ve lost your edge, Alyse. That hunk of metal cannot kill a Marid like me. Any injury it causes will be temporary, I assure you.”
I pressed the button and fired it. “And I assure you, my prince. Death is permanent.” The projectile streamed toward him. “For someone who thinks so highly of me, you somehow manage to underestimate me.”
His expression of confidence quickly faded as the realization hit him.
“I made sure to conjure it with copper projectiles,” I added.
The projectile punctured his heart and his chest exploded. I grimaced as the rest of his body followed.
The weapon vanished and I walked toward the pieces formerly known as Prince Simdan. “That’s for Esme,” I whispered.
“You killed him?” a small voice asked.
I turned abruptly to see a young boy in the arched doorway, holding a tray of tea. Mint, no doubt.
“Yes,” I said, trying to gauge his reaction. “You’ll need to report it to security so they can alert the other colonies.”
His gaze was fixed at my feet where bits of the prince stained the floor. “He’s never coming back?”