by L. L. McNeil
This Lathri had a vendetta against him.
As did many other Ittallan.
He needed to understand who was at their centre. Who gave information, funds, bodies.
Then that person would be his Arks’ first target.
‘He…is no king of mine…’ Lathri said, blood dripping from her cheek where she’d grazed it against the stone walls.
‘Whether you accept it or not, he rules Val Sharis,’ Tacio said, gleeful that Lathri had finally bitten. ‘And he doesn’t have to be your king for much longer. The name, if you please. Then we’ll let you re-join your mother and your rebel friends.’
‘The Arks will ruin Linaria,’ Lathri said.
‘I think they’ll help the Varkain get back on top. But what we do with them isn’t your concern. What is our concern is the Imperial Guard you’ve dragged to your cause.’
Sapora smirked and left the dungeon. Tacio would be able to get the information out of her, he was sure. If his brother failed, he’d try and get back in contact with Morgen, or fly to Corhaven himself.
Wouldn’t that be a sight?
Arriving in Niversai on the back of his Sevastos, bringing terror and submission to any who saw him.
He’d make them all bow.
The thought amused him as he left the dungeons and made his way up the winding staircase to the main palace.
He heard Isa before he saw her, lingering in the hallway, pretending to stare out of the windows.
‘Sister,’ Sapora greeted. He closed the door behind him and nodded to Roke and the other Cerastes who stood guard. ‘Hoping for a chance to see our prisoners? I’d give it a while. Tacio is down there.’
Isa looked away from the window. ‘Sapora, is this really the best way…?’
‘I thought of killing them,’ he said. ‘But Tacio convinced me that a question and torture session might prove useful.’ He shrugged.
Isa scowled. ‘You’ve changed things already. You have a Sevastos, you’re on your way to releasing the Arks. Do you have to bring more misery to the world?’
Her words spoiled his good mood. ‘Not this again…’
‘Yes, this again! The Arks are worse than Mateli! Dragons above, I think Tacio is worse than Mateli!’
‘Those rebels would have destroyed the palace, slain Tacio and I. Slain you! This is about striking back, harder and faster than they can. You and I have always lived by this. Why are you changing now?’
‘You won’t stop, will you? You won’t free them?’
‘Of course not. They’re my prisoners. You would do the same if you were attacked, surely?’
Isa bit her thumbnail.
‘I get the impression you always wanted to rule, but now you’ve the opportunity, you’re not up to it. That’s fine. Climb your towers. Jump in the hay. Enjoy the city. I will keep the country under control,’ Sapora hissed.
Isa looked at him, hurt, then turned away and raced down the hallway without another word.
*
Tears squeezed out of Isa’s eyes as she pelted down the darkening streets of Taban Yul. She’d grabbed a dark, cotton shawl and wrapped it around her head and chest as she left Sapora.
The Sevastos had finally lowered its flaming wall surrounding the palace, and perched atop the walls, watching the city with glowing eyes as if daring anyone to attempt another attack.
Ittallan had evacuated the city nearest the palace, and even those who lived in districts further out had opted to leave, despite the poor weather.
The few Imperial Guard stationed in Taban Yul who weren’t Varkain had helped with the evacuation, while also helping any citizens unfortunate enough to have been caught up in the Sevastos’ flames.
Isa smelt burning everywhere she went.
Every street, every alley stank of ash and death.
Some of the roads had been so badly burned by Sapora’s dragon that the stones had melted, filling the air with an acrid stench Isa could taste at the back of her throat.
She desperately wished for snow to cover the death and destruction but knew that was cowardly.
Why cover up what Sapora had done?
It needed to remain in view for everyone to see what he’d done. What he’d become.
What she’d allowed to happen.
Isa hurried along, the streets eerily deserted.
She supposed that was a good thing. Anyone so close to the palace—and Sevastos—had to be mad.
Her heart pounded as she ran through the streets. She’d wanted desperately to leave once the Sevastos attacked but had to stay in the palace for her own sake. Tacio didn’t trust her as it was, and if she’d left the moment the battle ended, it would have been even more suspicious.
Were Aetos, Kylos, Voulhrik, and Solvi okay? Had they all been in the battle? Did they have friends and family with them?
Lathri’s Ittallan had suffered many losses—the amount of ash choking the palace gardens and surrounding streets was testament to that—but what were they to do next?
At least the cold of night kept most of the Varkain off the city’s streets. They’d never been able to withstand the chill for very long.
She had a small window of opportunity, especially if Tacio was busy in the dungeons with Lathri.
Isa swallowed.
Poor Lathri.
And yet, Sapora hadn’t killed her. Not yet.
If she didn’t give them any information—and Isa had no reason to believe she would—would Tacio advocate for her death anyway? Or would she be kept alive for sport?
She shuddered at the thought.
Isa had never been to Sereth, but she knew how they treated their thralls. Sapora had told her plenty of stories that had made her blood turn to ice.
There would be nothing stopping Tacio from bringing a similar practice to Taban Yul.
Even though she had been the one to send the message to Morgen requesting aid against Sapora, Isa felt she’d betrayed Lathri more than her brother.
She’d been safe in the palace while Sapora’s Cerastes had cut everyone down.
She’d watched from the side-lines as the Sevastos had risen and attacked.
She’d been safe while her allies had died.
And now Lathri was a prisoner of the Varkain.
Koraki had reported more dragons attacking towns in the far north of Val Sharis, and a group of Arillians seemed to be behaving in kind.
Her country was falling apart.
Dragons killed Ittallan because of the Arillians. Arillians killed more dragons in vengeance. On and on it went, with Ittallan losing out the most.
As a princess—as a queen—she should have done something. She had just as much right to rule as Sapora.
Now, with Lathri’s words motivating her, she would do more. She would save Val Sharis from Sapora.
Quite how, she wasn’t sure, but she could no longer sit back and watch as the Varkain took over.
She mulled over her options, picking out possibilities, as she approached the bridge that would take her into Little Yomal.
Isa spotted a young boy attempting to climb up the sides. He couldn’t have been older than seven or eight, and Isa pulled up, wondering where his parents were.
So far from the palace, the streets were covered in snow, and ice had formed across the bridge.
‘Wait! Stop! You’ll slip!’ Isa yelled, darting over to him.
But the child ignored her, intent on clambering up onto the bridge.
‘Oh no, don’t tell me Aciel has got you, too?’ She sighed, when the boy continually ignored her. ‘No-one is safe in Taban Yul anymore. Burn to death by the Sevastos or have your mind controlled by Aciel.’
The boy scrambled to the top of the bridge’s side and walked along it, teetering slightly as he kept his balance.
Isa gulped.
He wasn’t going to…throw himself off, surely?
She couldn’t risk it. She darted forward and leapt at him, elbow out. She collided with his side, sent him flying off the wall
and onto the bridge where he landed on the ground with a smack.
Isa hated herself for hurting him, but she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself had he done the unthinkable. ‘Are you all right?’
He brought a hand to his head, clearly in a daze.
‘Hello?’ Isa tried again.
The boy looked up at her, his blank gaze disappearing into curiosity. ‘Princess Isa…’
She exhaled in relief. ‘Where are your parents?’
He glanced around, confused. ‘How…did I get….here?’
‘You got into a bit of trouble. It’s okay though. Where do you live?’ She said, helping him to his feet.
‘Little Yomal,’ he said, patting himself down as if to check he was really stood in the middle of the bridge.
‘It’s just there,’ Isa nodded. ‘Come on, I’ll help you.’
‘My mum was packing up things. We was gonna leave the city,’ he said, and took her hand.
‘Smart thing to do,’ Isa said. She walked him back over the bridge and into the residential district.
Her mind whirled.
How was Aciel controlling the people of Taban Yul? How exactly could that control be broken? It wasn’t as if she could shove everyone over, so they whacked their head on the ground.
She half-listened as the boy talked about his parents and their plans to move further south to Tannon Sona.
When he recognised where he was, she let him race off to his home, while she continued on towards Lathri’s townhouse.
Dread welled in her gut as she approached, and she smelt blood and burnt clothes from two streets away.
Kylos opened the door, as if expecting her.
‘May I come in?’ Isa asked, head bowed slightly. Even if she was royalty, she knew how to be respectful.
‘Not like I could stop you, could I?’ Kylos said.
Isa smiled weakly and stepped inside.
‘Welcome, princess,’ Solvi said. She was sat on the floor near the door to the balcony, her arm in a sling.
All around the room, Ittallan sat or lay in various states of distress. Some she recognised as palace workers, others she’d never seen before.
‘Don’t suppose you brought any medical supplies? Without Lathri, we can’t do as much,’ Kylos said, following her in. She knelt by her brother, who had a particularly large gash on his forearm, which Kylos continued to bandage.
‘I barely got away,’ Isa said. ‘It would have been suspicious if I’d grabbed anything first.’
Kylos clicked her tongue but didn’t reply.
‘How is Lathri? Will…will she get a funeral?’ Aetos asked, grimacing as Kylos tended to his arm.
‘Lathri’s alive,’ Isa said. ‘She’s in the dungeons, along with everyone else who’s been arrested.’
‘Captured more like,’ Kylos muttered, securing Aetos’s bandage and standing up to face her. ‘We lost so many people. Our one good chance to strike.’
Isa looked around and stepped out of the way as other healers and medics looked after the injured Ittallan crowded into Lathri’s’ small home.
‘How many people?’ Isa asked.
‘Everyone left on the warships. At least twenty on each,’ Kylos said. ‘Over forty to Cerastes or Sapora himself,’ she continued, ‘and other than the eight people here, the rest are unaccounted for.’
‘Probably ash,’ Aetos said bitterly.
Isa swallowed. ‘There are twelve in the dungeons, including Lathri.’
‘I hope they meet a swift end instead of whatever poison lurks in Sapora’s fangs,’ Kylos said. ‘Voulhrik died. Didn’t have a chance against the Sevastos. Nothing goes. Lucky for you that you had the palace walls to hide behind.’
Isa scowled but didn’t rise to it. None of them were unscathed, and she knew there’d be resentment because she’d been outside of the fighting.
‘If Lathri is alive, can’t we just free her?’ Solvi asked.
‘Tacio’s guarding her himself. It’d be impossible,’ Isa said.
She knew she’d be in more danger now than ever before and could only hope that Sapora was more interested in getting information from Lathri than suspecting her.
‘If he didn’t have that damned dragon,’ Aetos muttered, wincing as he shifted how he sat.
‘Attacking him again and freeing Lathri would be the easiest thing in the world,’ Kylos sighed.
‘There’s got to be a way to break his hold on that Sevastos. I’ve never heard of anyone, even a Samolen, with that kind of power.’ Aetos said. ‘Isa, do you know how he does it?’
‘I wish I did,’ she sighed. ‘I didn’t even know he had one until it turned up at the palace!’
‘Well at least Sapora doesn’t have the Ark he said he would have,’ Aetos said. ‘He wouldn’t have left any of us alive if he had.’
Others joined in on the conversation.
Some wanted action, to press forward while Sapora felt victorious.
Others wanted to wait out the winter.
Others still wanted to seek new information elsewhere before deciding their next move.
Aetos and Kylos attempted to reply to everyone’s concerns.
But trying to calm and control a group of grieving, gravely injured Ittallan was not easy, and the discussion descended into a squabble, and then into a furious argument.
‘We need to focus on freeing Lathri. We can’t manage things without her,’ Kylos said.
Isa was inclined to agree. The healer’s peacekeeping abilities certainly kept everyone’s tempers low. ‘Security at the palace, especially now…It’ll be nigh impossible to even get into the palace unless you can climb very well. Or fly.’
‘That’s fine,’ Aetos said. ‘Nothing’s broken.’ He prodded his arm and tried to hide his wince. ‘It’s a risk, but we need our leader. I doubt Sapora would expect it, either. That gives us the advantage.’
An advantage over Sapora. Isa had never thought she’d hear those words. ‘You won’t succeed unless I help. I’d need to distract Tacio, get him away from Lathri somehow. You can’t all charge in, either. If there’s a large group, the game will be up before you cross the palace grounds. A stealthy approach would be best.’
‘I’ll do whatever it takes,’ Kylos said.
‘Any other volunteers?’ Isa asked.
‘I volunteer.’ Solvi stood up, fierce determination in her eyes. ‘I wasn’t hurt too much in the battle. But I’m used to hunting silently, used to ambush.’
Kylos smiled at the young woman. ‘I can’t say no to that.’
Isa nodded. The three of them would be enough—she hoped.
‘I’ll be our eyes above the palace. Give me a bit of time to rest and I’ll fly.’
Isa breathed. Good. She’d need time to prepare as well.
‘Tonight, then,’ Kylos said. ‘As late as we can leave it.’
‘Tonight…?’ Isa replied. The sun had set, and the first two moons had already risen. ‘You mean in a couple of hours?’
‘Strike while the iron is hot, isn’t that the saying?’ Kylos asked.
From everyone’s stares, Isa knew she couldn’t win this argument. She sighed.
She was in too deep to back out now.
‘Okay. Listen carefully while I tell you the best way into the palace, and the route you’ll need to take to the dungeons. I’ll focus on keeping Tacio and his Cerastes out of your way.’
And with that, Isa knew she could not rescind her betrayal of Sapora.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Patience, Amarah realised, had never been her forte.
While she knew Traego had received her message—how could you miss a tattoo on your body lighting up—he could have been anywhere in Linaria. Thief’s Ink was not a two-way communication system, so she had no way of knowing how far away he was, or how long she’d end up waiting in the snow for him.
On the third day, Kohl had asked how long she planned on waiting, and at her shrug reply, had promptly disappeared, citing he wanted to s
tretch his legs in town.
When he returned with a proper eyepatch for her, Amarah had been moved almost to tears. ‘You didn’t have to do that!’
Kohl had smiled. ‘Local seamstress was able to whip up something that I thought might work. More comfortable for you! How does it fit?’
Amarah adjusted the strap around the back of her head. ‘Fits fine. Thank you.’
Perhaps the Arillians were kind, helpful people who had simply been misjudged all these years.
Well. Except for Jato, of course.
But there were bad apples in every society.
If Kohl could keep his old emotions towards his daughter locked up, then he’d be an asset.
‘I don’t know how long it takes your ships to cross the country,’ Kohl said. ‘But if you have to travel elsewhere for a ship of your own, hadn’t we better get moving?’
Amarah had to admit he had a point. It could take her the rest of winter to get down to Estoria. And yet she didn’t want to be too hasty. Traego could turn up at any moment, today or in a week’s time.
How long was she prepared to wait in a small barn hidden from view until she could leave?
She huffed.
Not much longer at the rate of her boredom.
‘I’ll give him one more day,’ she said after thinking it over for a while. Four days was enough time to reach Tum Metsa from almost anywhere in Val Sharis.
If he’d been out in Corhaven somewhere, then she’d have a much longer wait.
‘One more day,’ Kohl echoed. ‘Been able to talk to Palom?’
Amarah shook her head. ‘Nope. Wherever he is, I think the blizzard’s too strong for any connection. But he knows where we are. He might come.’
‘Sounds like there’s a lot of hoping and waiting,’ Kohl said, rubbing his eyes.
Amarah rolled her tongue.
Too much, as far as she was concerned.
But what choice did she have?
She had no idea how most people dealt with life without an airship. Walking just took so long.
‘A shame that Thief’s Ink of yours only works one way. It would be easier knowing whether or not he was on his way.’
‘I know, I know.’
‘I’d offer to scout, but from the conversations I picked up on in Tum Metsa, Jato and her followers are causing quite a stir in Val Sharis.’ The dejection in his voice almost made Amarah wince.