'I suppose you had no trouble at all with adjusting when you were made immortal?'
'I did go through a period of thinking there might be a purpose in my fate. But I never suffered from the delusion that there was anything particularly decent about me,' Cayal said, shifting to a more comfortable position. 'Tides, by the time I became immortal, I'd already killed my best friend, been dispossessed, exiled, and lost everything I ever owned or loved.' The Immortal Prince cocked his head to one side and studied Declan for a moment. 'Kind of where you're at right now, isn't it?'
'What makes you so sure I've killed anyone?' Declan asked, not wishing to dwell on what — or who — he might have lost. He wasn't all that enamoured of Cayal pointing out the similarities between them, either.
'Are you kidding? Weren't you the King of Glaeba's Spymaster? I'd be surprised if you'd only killed one man.'
He had a point, although Declan had no intention of admitting it. 'Do we have time,' he asked, 'to stop along the way?'
'We can keep going without a rest if you want — provided you have a hankering to end up like him,' the Immoral Prince said, glancing over at Kentravyon. 'Moderation in all things is the key to swimming the Tide and staying sane, Rodent.'
'Why do you care?' Declan asked, curious to hear Cayal offer such sage advice. Actually, it seemed strange to hear Cayal offer any advice that wasn't designed to aid his cause in some way. 'You'll be dead soon. What difference does it make if the effort of getting you to your goal drives you, or anybody else, crazy?'
'I might go mad and change my mind about wanting to die,' Cayal said. 'And that would be a crazy thing to do.'
'Does it bother you that your efforts to die might destroy Amyrantha?' 'No.'
Declan found that hard to believe. Of course, given the source of the information, he wasn't certain Kentravyon's prediction about the end of the world deserved any credit, but still ... it was something to consider. 'Are you trying to tell me it doesn't bother you in the slightest that your quest for death may kill millions of people and destroy a whole world in the process?'
'My quest for death isn't going to kill anybody,' Cayal replied. 'According to Kentravyon, Lukys closing his rift is what will do the damage. He's the one who wants to move on. I'm simply going along for the ride. So before you start pointing the finger at me, Rodent, look a bit closer to home. If he's right,
then it's your father who's planning to destroy Amyrantha, for no better reason, I gather, than he has itchy feet. Worse — if you believe the madman over there — this isn't the first time he's pulled this trick, either.' Cayal lay back down on the rug, folding his arms behind his head. 'Amyrantha's blood will be on Lukys's hands, not mine, if it goes awry. And yours, too, if you decide to help him.'
if I don't help Lukys open his rift, you don't die,' Declan pointed out.
Cayal turned his head to stare at Declan, smiling. 'And isn't that little dilemma just going to eat you up inside until the very end of time? What's a noble man to do, Rodent? Kill the man who stole his woman and then drove her away? A very satisfying act, which might, somewhat inconveniently, destroy the whole world? Or do you refuse to help? Make the bastard who caused you all this grief live forever, and then suffer his presence into eternity, long after Amyrantha is a cold and lifeless rock and Arkady nothing more than a dim and distant memory?'
Declan had no answer to that, because Cayal was right. The choice before him was eating him up, and he had no idea what he was going to do about it.
CHAPTER 12
'They're here,' Arkady said, pointing to the map of Amyrantha Jaxyn had unrolled across the exquisitely carved desk that had once belonged to her husband.
Jaxyn looked at the position on the map she'd indicated for a moment and then looked up, his doubt written clearly on his face. 'In Jelidia?'
'Lukys has built a palace down there. It's huge, apparently, and very beautiful, according to Cayal. Taryx helped him build it. Cayal said Pellys calls it the Palace of Impossible Dreams.'
'So Pellys is down there too?'
Arkady nodded. 'Along with Taryx, Arryl and Kentravyon.' She didn't mention Declan. Jaxyn didn't know of Declan's new status as an immortal and she couldn't see any benefit in telling him just yet. Besides, it meant she still had something she could hold back; one last bargaining chip if things went awry.
'What about Medwen and Ambria? Are they still in Senestra?'
Arkady nodded. 'How did you know they were in Senestra? I thought that was supposed to be a secret?'
'Worst kept secret in history,' Jaxyn said with a shrug. 'You say Kentravyon's awake again? On purpose?'
Arkady hesitated, wondering if it was really such a good idea giving Jaxyn so much information. And then she thought of her father sleeping in a real bed this night for the first time in over seven years, and the guilt evaporated. She owed the immortals nothing.
'Lukys revived him a couple of months before I saw Cayal in Senestra. Cayal says it has something to do with the power needed to help him die once the Tide peaks, but I'm not sure he was entirely convinced of that himself.'
Jaxyn leaned back in his seat — the seat that had also been Stellan's — rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Outside, a gentle snow was falling; an unusual event for Lebec at this time of year. But then, the whole country was in the grip of a winter like no other. Arkady had her suspicions about who was responsible for that, too.
'Do you really think Lukys has found a way for Cayal to die?'
'How in the Tides do you expect me to know the answer to a question like that?' Arkady said, stepping back from the desk. It felt so strange to be standing here in the palace again, in Stellan's private sanctuary, with Jaxyn Aranville sitting there, acting as if he owned the place.
Jaxyn smiled. 'Fair enough. I wonder what they're really up to down there.'
'Here's an idea, Jaxyn. Why don't you abandon your quest for the Glaeban throne, call off the war and go down to Jelidia and ask?'
Jaxyn's smile faded. 'You dare a lot, taking that tone with me.'
'So kill me. You're going to eventually. Why drag it out?'
He studied her sceptically for a moment. 'You don't mean that. I know you, Arkady. You want to live.'
'In a world ruled by Tide Lords? Death may be preferable.'
'Tides, do you really think we're that bad?'
Arkady took the seat opposite Jaxyn, leaning back in it as if she hadn't a care in the world. It was an act, of course, but Arkady had learned one thing in the past year: men — tyrants — like Jaxyn could smell
fear. 'So far, Jaxyn, you've murdered the previous King and Queen of Glaeba, accused my husband of the crime, had him stripped of his title and declared a traitor, stolen everything he owned, started a war with our closest ally and arranged to have your minion marry our new king. And that's just been in the last year. How long does a High Tide last? Centuries?'
'And yet here you sit, daring to taunt me. Perhaps you do have a death wish, after all,' Jaxyn observed.
She pulled the spotted fur coat she'd been given on leaving Lebec Prison a little tighter around her shoulders. Even with a blazing fire going, it was still freezing in Stellan's study. 'You need me, Jaxyn. If not for what I know of Cayal's movements, there's still the chance you can use me to gain leverage over Stellan.'
'I'd not put too much store in that notion,' Jaxyn warned. 'Stellan may care what happens to you, but I'm fairly certain nothing would concern Syrolee and her family less than the fate of Stellan's long-lost wife. And it's Syrolee who's pulling your husband's strings these days over on the other side of the lake, my dear. You can be certain of that.'
Arkady feared Jaxyn was right, but she was reluctant to agree with him. She never got the opportunity in any case, as their discussion was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by Lady Aleena letting herself into the study. Dressed in the finest silks — the cold did not concern her — and draped in the Desean family rubies that had once belonged to Arkady, the woman was tall and dark-
haired and the candelabra she carried lit the angular planes of her face, highlighting her finely sculpted cheekbones.
Jaxyn's fiancee eyed Arkady curiously for a moment and then looked at Jaxyn. 'Not interrupting anything salacious, am I, dearest?'
'Not at all,' Jaxyn told her expansively. 'Arkady and I were just discussing her future.'
'Oh,' Aleena said. 'She has one, does she?'
Arkady forced a smile at the woman posing as Lady Aleena Aranville, reminding herself that this woman had been a whore in a sea port brothel before she was immortal, which probably accounted for her manners — and her desire to wear every single ring and bracelet Arkady had once owned, all at once.
Admittedly, Arkady had demonstrated rather less moral fibre than a whore herself in recent times, but at least she could console herself with the thought that she'd done what she had out of necessity. Lyna, Arkady had discovered on their journey together back from Senestra, had been a whore — and often returned to that occupation when she was hiding during low Tides — because she liked it. Her reasoning totally eluded Arkady. Despite sharing a cabin on the trip from Senestra during which time Lyna was at least civil, if not exactly friendly, Arkady still didn't trust her or her motives.
Jaxyn wasn't going to be drawn on Arkady's fate, however, not even by his betrothed. 'Well, that remains to be seen, my dear. Have you settled in our other guest?'
'Doctor Morel is resting comfortably in one of the guest rooms under guard as you requested,' Lyna assured him. 'Although he's not very happy about his new living arrangements.'
'Is something wrong with his accommodation?' Arkady asked.
'Considering where he's come from recently, not a damned thing,' Lyna said. 'I gather his objections are on moral grounds. I do believe your father thinks you're a shameless whore, Arkady.'
'And you did nothing to disabuse him of the notion, I gather?'
The immortal shrugged. 'It's not up to me to remedy your father's misconceptions. Assuming they
are misconceptions. Apparently you have quite a history of opening your legs to get what you want.'
Arkady caught sight of Jaxyn's amused expression and wondered if he hadn't deliberately staged this scene to test her mettle. She had been through enough lately, however, for mere insults to bounce off her skin like raindrops off an oiled cloak. She smiled at Lyna. 'A skill I'm sure you're also expert at, my lady,' she replied with acidic sweetness. 'Perhaps we can compare notes sometime.'
Lyna wasn't amused. 'Death is very final, Arkady. Don't make me show you that the hard way.'
'We were just discussing Arkady's mortality,' Jaxyn said, leaning back in his seat with a smile. The bickering between the women apparently entertained him a great deal, it seems she's rather anxious to provoke one of us into doing her in.'
'Tides,' Lyna said. 'What a waste. Still, I suppose that explains your father's message.'
'What message?'
'He said to tell you not to worry about the future. And something about him being the parent for once and it being time he did his job.' She shrugged. To her, the message was of little consequence. 'You're very lucky, you know. My father sold me to a brothel when I was twelve. He wasn't interested in saving me at all. Will we be three for dinner, Jaxyn? Or doesn't Arkady's house arrest extend to her eating with the family?'
'Don't be so catty, Lyna,' Jaxyn said, still smiling, it's not nice to taunt our guest with what she's lost. You're not too tormented being back here in Lebec Palace, are you, Arkady? Surrounded by all these pretty things you no longer own?'
Arkady didn't answer because she wasn't really listening. Something about her father's message bothered her, although she couldn't put her finger on it. 'Did my father say anything else, my lady?'
Lyna shook her head. 'Nothing of consequence. You'd think he'd be a little more grateful, though. I mean ... the stupid bastard was rotting in Lebec Prison until a few hours ago. Now he gets to see out the war on a feather bed. Some people are just never happy.'
'I think I'll go and see to him,' Arkady said, rising to her feet.
'I think I'll go and see to him, please, your grace, is what you really meant to say, isn't it?' Jaxyn asked. Arkady glared at him.
'You're under house arrest, Arkady,' he reminded her. 'You'll not be taking a piss without my permission. Now, if you want to see to your father, ask. Nicely.'
Tides, Declan, Arkady prayed silently, quite certain there was nobody listening to her prayer. If you ever do manage to find a way to kill an immortal down there in Jelidia, can you please put Jaxyn high on the list of Tide Lords you intend to do away with? She said nothing aloud, however, knowing Jaxyn was just looking for any excuse he could find to punish and humiliate her.
'May I go and see to my father, please, your grace?' she asked through gritted teeth. Arkady wasn't as bothered by the request as she appeared. In truth, this was just a word game, and there were far more dangerous games she could be playing with Jaxyn Aranville. If he thought having to ask his permission irked her, however; if he thought it was tearing her up inside to kowtow to him, then he would — for a while at least — confine his torments to such relatively simple and harmless games. Her father's safety might well hinge on Jaxyn's belief that he was torturing her with words and didn't need to move on to something more substantial to achieve his goal.
'You may,' Jaxyn said, after deliberating on the request for a moment or two for dramatic effect.
'Thank you, your grace,' Arkady said, bowing to him with obvious reluctance. She crossed the rug and stopped in front of Lyna. 'May I borrow your candelabra, my lady, to light my way?'
Lyna handed her the silver candleholder and stepped back from the door. 'He's upstairs. Third door on the left.'
'I know the way, my lady.'
'I'm sure you do,' Lyna said with a smile. Before the immortal could add anything else, Arkady stepped into the hall and shut the door on her.
Taking a deep breath and putting Jaxyn Aranville and his wretched fiancee out of her mind, Arkady hurried down the hall toward the main staircase, still worried about her father's cryptic message. What had he meant by telling her not to worry about the future? The message about him being the parent for once and it being time he did his job was equally puzzling.
What does he think he's going to do? Call Jaxyn out? Challenge him to a duel?
Although she'd spent a lot of time during their incarceration trying to explain the Tide Lords to him, she knew her father didn't really believe her. She didn't even blame him for that. Magic and immortality were not easy concepts for a man of science to grasp.
Tides, Cayal had to chop a few fingers off to get me to believe him.
The guards on her father's door offered no resistance when she demanded entry, so she assumed Lyna hadn't instructed the felines to forbid her from seeing him. The tabby on the right produced a key from her belt pouch and opened the door, standing back to let Arkady pass. The room was dark and cold, lit only by a smudge of glowing coals in the fireplace to Arkady's right. The large four-poster bed against the far wall had its heavy brocaded curtains drawn against the chill.
'Papa? Are you asleep?'
There was no answer. Arkady smiled at her own foolishness, thinking there was never a more ridiculous question than asking a sleeping person if they were asleep.
'Papa?'
She walked to the bed and put the candelabra on the side table, deciding that if her father really was asleep, she wouldn't disturb him now. It had been a fraught few days since Jaxyn had first come to visit them, and he was very uncomfortable with the deal she'd brokered to secure their release from prison and into house arrest in Lebec Palace.
Part of the problem, she knew, was that her father couldn't understand why Jaxyn would be interested in the location of the imaginary Tide Lords — despite Arkady assuring him that Jaxyn was one of them — so her deal with him didn't make sense. Bary Morel assumed the deal must involve something far more tangible. He believed she'd offered herself to Ja
xyn to save them, as she had with Fillion Rybank and Stellan Desean, and it didn't seem to matter what Arkady told him, nothing was likely to disabuse him of that notion any time soon.
'Papa?' she again asked in a whisper. It wasn't surprising that he was already unconscious. This was the first time in years her father had slept in a proper bed with proper linen sheets and with blankets that weren't flea-bitten. Carefully, she leaned forward and pulled the curtain near the head of the bed back a fraction, to check if he really was sleeping. It was impossible to make out anything in the dark cave created by the closed curtains, so she let it fall back into place, deciding he must be asleep and there was nothing so important that it couldn't wait until morning. She picked up the candelabra and turned toward the door, bumping against her father's foot hanging down by the edge of the bed as she moved.
Thinking he may have turned in his sleep, she put the candelabra back down on the side table. This time she opened the curtains in the middle, expecting to find a somnambulant man twisted up in sheets and blankets in which he wasn't used to sleeping.
Instead, she found herself face to face with her father's midsection.
It took a moment for Arkady to realise what she was seeing, and why. Then it hit her and she cried out for the guards. She grabbed her father around the legs with both arms, trying to lift his dead weight, sobbing angrily as she tried to pull him down and lift him at the same time.
The felines on guard outside were quick, responding in a matter of seconds. Her father let out an agonised gasp as they released him from the crisp sheets he was supposed to be sleeping on; sheets he'd torn and twisted into the noose around his neck.
Tears streaming down her face, Arkady let him go and stepped back to allow the felines a chance to cut him down. His face was bloated, his neck bruised, his extremities already purpling with blood. One of the felines ran for the door, calling out for help.
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