by Ivy Asher
“Tawv, did you not see what she did here? She clearly is a threat,” Suryn offers in response to Creepy Eye’s scrutinizing gaze.
I growl at Suryn and take a threatening step forward. I’m probably not helping myself here, but her casual disregard for the lives of the people I love is clouding my good sense.
“Bullshit. My Chosen were unconscious when you dropped from the sky. It was six of us against more than two dozen of you.”
“Seven of you,” Ory corrects, pushing his long black hair out of his face as he shakily gets on his feet, like somehow my count being off by one really makes any difference.
I don’t correct him, not wanting to point out that Vaughn is basically a catatonic puppet that couldn’t raise a hand to defend himself on his own, let alone attack them.
“It doesn’t matter anyway, they sustained no casualties and the fighting stopped when Suryn marked some of them as Chosen,” Ory states while dusting himself off.
He misses the subtle shaking of Suryn’s head and the death glare she shoots him when he doesn’t zip his lips the way she’s silently communicating she wants him to do.
“What?” Sauriel yelps and turns on his daughter, his eyes demanding an explanation.
I wonder why she called my Marked posse filth when her own dad is a lamia Chosen. You’d think she’d be more understanding of Sentinels that were created and not born.
“How?” Sauriel demands when she doesn’t immediately explain.
“I don’t know, I moved to slice one of their throats. As soon as I touched him, my light sparked. I couldn’t control it.” She pauses, dropping her eyes away from Sauriel’s like she’s ashamed. “Do you think Wekun would remove—”
Creepy Eyes, or I guess his name is Tawv, hisses and looks at Suryn like she’s said something horrible. “You would betray your light so easily?” he demands harshly cutting her off mid question.
But any response is cut off by a twitch of the Sovereign’s hand. I watch as all the other Sentinels that are awake look at the movement like it’s a snake that’s going to strike and bite at any second.
“We will discuss this later,” Sauriel growls at his daughter. “But the Chosen Marks change how all of this must be dealt with.” He turns to me. “If you want to live, then I suggest you bow, keep your head down, and don’t speak unless directly spoken to.”
I’m taken aback by the instructions, and I look to the guys for a moment, asking with my eyes if this guy is for real. Bastien and Sabin both shrug at the same time.
I turn back to Sauriel, but something about the tension that’s now making his spine straight and his shoulders tight has me bending to get on the ground. My soul rebels against the vulnerable position this puts me and all the guys in, but I did just knock the queen bee of this hive on her ass, so maybe a little groveling will get us past that. I drop my head but keep my weight on the balls of my feet and on my palms, just in case.
I can feel the unease rise in the room and settle on the back of my neck. Everyone is utterly silent like they’re afraid to take a breath, let alone speak.
“What is the meaning of this?” a feminine voice demands, her tone even, the pitch not nearly as shrill as what I thought it would be based on what she looked like.
I’m tempted to lift my head so I can read her expression, but I keep it down like I was warned to do.
“There’s been a development with our guests,” a voice I recognize as Tawv’s states flatly.
“I assumed as much simply from the fact that their heads were still attached to their bodies after attacking your Sovereign,” she states casually.
I can tell she’s going for flippant, but I hear the bite deep in her statement.
“The female is light born, the others are all Chosen,” Sauriel provides as if the information bores him.
“Why should I care if one mutt wants to claim so many unworthy? Do you not see the state of your people, unconscious, on the ground all because of the temper tantrum of one little back dweller?”
I bristle at her statements and fight not to fist my hands in anger. Fucking bitch.
“Yes, your views on this are clear, but according to Original Law, she is a light born nonetheless. And not all of the Chosen are hers. It seems that Suryn’s light has marked several of them.”
“You lie,” the Sovereign growls out, and it’s everything I can do not to look up to see what the hell is going on.
“It’s the truth, Sovereign. My light responded and could not be stopped,” Suryn butts in.
“Then you’ll need to be purged with them,” the Sovereign declares coldly, and I hear several shocked gasps.
Oh, it’s fine when she wants to slaughter us, but threaten little Suryn and they’re nothing but outraged.
“Have you no mercy for even your own blood?” Sauriel demands at the same time Tawv supplies calmly, “You may be the Leader of the Marked, but you don’t have that authority. An independent tribunal must be called to rule on the death of a Tierit born, and you know it. It’s Original Law and cannot be deviated from. You recall the Original Laws, do you not? You only vowed to uphold them upon your ascension.”
I want to high-five Tawv. Own that hoity bitch, Creepy Eyes.
The room goes quiet, and we all hold our breath, waiting to see what will happen.
“Fine. Call a tribunal,” the Sovereign seethes. The rancor in her tone makes the hair on my arms stand up. “I have no doubt they’ll see things the way I do. Until then, keep this filth out of my sight! If they so much as look my way, Original Law won’t save them again,” she hisses, and the scrape of a chair shrieks through the quiet room.
Soft angry footsteps move away from the throne area and become fainter and fainter as they march away. Unease and resentment filter through my worry. I once again find myself either wanting to run from this place and never look back or to burn it all to the ground. What the fuck is wrong with these people?
I sit up. I’m done being on my knees for people like this. Sauriel is whispering something to his daughter, and she nods as he grabs her shoulders and pulls her in for a hug. I look away, feeling like I’m spying on something that’s none of my business. My eyes land on Tawv’s, and we just watch each other for a beat, neither of us eager to break the silence.
“A tribunal will be called tomorrow. They will hear your case and decide your fate. Until then, you are protected guests. Suryn will show you to your rooms and serve as host for the duration of your stay. You are free to travel where you’d like, with the exception of the Royal wing. And just like with any citizen of Tierit, you are not permitted to leave the boundary. Do you understand?” Tawv asks, his gaze leaving mine and flitting over everyone else in my group.
None of us say anything. He takes that as some kind of agreement and rises from his throne. Without another look or word, he exits out of the same side door he entered through.
Sauriel hugs Suryn one more time and then steps away from her. “You should rest. I will speak with you more tomorrow,” he tells her. He hesitates for a second, like he wants to say something more, but seems to decide against it and leaves instead.
Suryn watches his back until it disappears through a door. She turns her fiery gaze to Enoch, and they stare at each other. I’m waiting for her to say whatever nasty thing that’s obviously sitting on her tongue and then lead us to wherever we’re supposed to sleep tonight. I don’t even care if it’s in the royal kennels at this point, which really wouldn’t be shocking with the way these fuckers talk about us. Suryn shakes her head instead and then looks at Ory. He’s busy staring at me, which seems to piss Suryn off, and she proceeds to do her own stomping act out of the room.
I forgot Ory was even there, he’s been so quiet. His wings flex behind him once, and then he blinks, losing our staring contest.
“Well, that was interesting,” Ory states as he turns to look in the direction that Suryn just stormed off in. “Looks like host duties now fall on me.”
Ory doesn’t look
nearly as bothered by this fact as Suryn was. That should probably concern me, but at this point I’m done. I just want out of this room, away from these people and hopefully somewhere I can pee.
“Follow me,” he announces, turning swiftly and almost taking out Becket with a wing.
I take one more look around the room and wonder when these guards will wake up. I trace the now empty thrones and spot the starlit night sky through a window on the far back wall. We need to figure out how the hell to get out of here, and the first order of business...is getting those fucking Chosen marks off of my Shields.
14
I’m dead on my feet by the time Ory shows us to where we’ll be staying. He led us through what had to be a hundred hallways and several different floors. I’m pretty sure it was done to confuse us, in which case he succeeded, because I have no fucking clue where we are in relation to where we came in. Luckily for me, I just don’t fucking care.
Ory is standing in the doorway of the suite of rooms we’ll be occupying for our hopefully short stay in this hell hole, informing us that food and drinks will be brought up promptly and going through some kind of itinerary he’s set for us tomorrow. He must have come up with these activities on the hour long walk it took to get to these rooms. I’m pretty sure the Sovereign just stated that she wanted us kept away from her; I didn’t hear anything about all these tours and interviews and shit that the winged windbag is going on about.
I rub at my tired eyes and promise my bladder for the thousandth time that I’ll empty it soon. Ory is still droning on with no hint that he’s going to leave us alone anytime in the near future, so I decide I need to take matters into my own hands. I walk right up to Ory. He seems confused by my approach but doesn’t stop jabbering about whatever the fuck he’s going on about.
“Sentinel,” he greets mockingly as I move until I’m chest to chest with him.
I don’t say anything, and he smiles over my head like he thinks I’m trying to intimidate him but he’s just too tough for that. I run my hand slowly up the frame of the door and wait until he looks down at me. His aubergine eyes flicker with suspicion and then interest as I look up at him and smile sweetly. Ory presses against me slightly, reading what’s happening all wrong. I lift my other hand and place it gently on his chest, and then I shove him out of the doorway and promptly slam the heavy black door in his face.
I lean against it and sigh. I can just make out Ory snickering on the other side, and I shake my head. That dude is a fucking weirdo. I sag against the black lacquered wood door and take in the room. We’re finally alone. There’s so much to talk about, and yet I don’t feel ready to dissect it all in this moment. So instead, I take in the details of this suite they’ve exiled us to.
I push off the door and join the others in the large room that’s the nucleus of the suite. Its walls and floor are made of that same soft cream stone. There’s carved vines and blooms in the corners that rise up to a high ceiling. Rugs and sofas sit in the middle, and a large dining table is pushed against a back wall that looks like nothing but windows from the top of the table to the very high ceiling.
I walk over to it and try to get my bearings with what I can see outside. It’s near impossible. I don’t know this place well enough to pick out any landmarks in the city or around it. It doesn’t help either that they don’t have electricity. Apparently, everything is lit up with fairy light. I’m not sure if that’s a spell or if there are Sentinels out there responsible for the little white orbs that dot the hallways, the streets of the city, and the ceilings in this room. It’s definitely not actual fairies like I first thought when Ory announced what the light was. He was quick to make fun of me when I tried to talk to an orb, hoping the little tinker bell would show his or herself.
Several open doors lead off of the main area, and I can see four large room options. At least we’ll all be together within hearing and fighting distance if push comes to shove around here. No one’s really saying anything. We’re all just looking around and doing our best to fight off the exhaustion that’s clear in everyone’s features.
“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m about to pee my fucking pants. Now, we all obviously need to talk and come up with a game plan, but can we sort out our bodily functions first?”
I don’t really wait for an answer before I dash through the closest door on my right in a desperate hunt for something that resembles a toilet…or a vase…fuck it, I’d take a bowl at this point. I’m doing the pee dance by the time I track down the somewhat hidden entryway to the massive bathroom, and I make it, just barely.
My bladder now blissfully empty, I wash up and quickly exit so someone else who’s in desperate need can manage their shit. I plop down on one of the soft red sofas. I’m so dirty that I feel bad sitting down on the plush furniture, but then I remember where I am and proceed to rub my nasty self all over the cushions. A little something to remember the filthy mutt by.
“So what the fuck are we going to do?” I ask when everyone is headed back into the room and settling comfortably on some piece of fancy looking furniture. Bastien and Valen saunter in and proceed to pick me up, plop their asses on the couch I was just lying on, and then set me down across their laps. I’m too tired to object, and even if I did, it would be empty. They all know that I like the manhandling.
“Well, we need to get the hell out of here, but I’m not sure how,” Sabin states, and several of us grunt in agreement.
“The issue is the Chosen marks. If we could get rid of them, then we could at least try to make a run for it,” I state on a massive yawn.
I have to make a concentrated effort to keep my eyes open. Bastien is running his fingers through my hair and slowly working the tangles out while Valen is tracing patterns on my leg that I’m finding very soothing right now.
“Is there a way to get rid of them?” Becket asks as he looks down at his hands. “These are just the beginning ones, right? We don’t get any more unless we…” He trails off, apparently not wanting to talk about the fucking that leads to the whole shebang of Sentinel markings.
“I don’t know,” I once again admit. “I’m seriously starting to hate those fucking words,” I add on a growl.
“Do you think if you marked them, it would trump the other Sentinel’s claim?” Ryker asks, his gaze contemplative.
“I did mark them. That sure as fuck didn’t keep what she did from happening,” I point out.
Ryker shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean mark them as your Shields, I mean mark them as your Chosen?”
Bastien stiffens underneath me, and Valen’s soothing patterns suddenly stop. I stare at Ryker for a moment just to be sure I heard him right.
“I don’t know if it works like that,” I offer hesitantly, trying to think through the ramifications.
If it got us out of here, it could be worth it. But then what?
Ryker sighs. “It might be our only option. They can’t stay here linked to that female. You heard what the Sovereign said, she’s going to kill all of them.”
“Can we force Suryn to come with us?” Nash asks, and all heads snap to him. He tenses a little. “I mean, if she’s going to be murdered for marking us, maybe she’d be interested in escaping too, that’s all I’m saying.”
I try to picture the redheaded arrogant ass of a Sentinel voluntarily fleeing with us. “Yeah, I just don’t see that happening. She doesn’t seem like she’ll ever be our biggest fan.”
“But we don’t even know her, so can we really say for sure at this point?” Enoch defends, and I bristle.
“Are you defending her?” Knox asks, voicing the question that’s on the tip of my tongue.
“I’m not…” Enoch trails off. “I don’t...maybe...yeah, I guess I am defending her. I don’t think we can just write her off based on what happened today.”
I give an incredulous snort. “Why the fuck not? She called you filth. I don’t know what kind of rose colored Chosen glasses you’re viewing this chick through,
but there is no part of her that is okay with the fact that she marked you.”
“But didn’t you guys say you were all freaked out in the beginning too?” Nash counters.
“Dude, that was not the same thing,” Sabin tells him. “We didn’t know what the marks were all about, but we were all on board with Vinna.”
I don’t point out that Sabin wasn’t exactly on board until a little bit later. Technically, he’s right though. He was worried about how fast things were progressing, but he didn’t actually hate me—which is not the case with Suryn.
“But you guys did say that you were all okay being on board because you trusted the magic. Shouldn’t we be trusting the magic in their case too?” Siah asks, gesturing to Enoch and the others.
“Not when the magic is tied to a ruthless psychopath,” I counter.
“You could have been a ruthless psychopath for all I knew when we sealed our bond,” Siah counters.
I open my mouth to dispute what he’s saying and quickly close it.
Fuck, he has a point.
“Trusting the magic becomes a moot point if they decide all of us need to die. If sticking with her equals death, then we need to find a way to either sever the tie, or like Ryker said, trump her claim,” Kallan states, his features pensive as he stares blankly out of the back window.
Something about the look on his face has me pausing. I’m clearly not a fan of the Sentinel who marked them or this situation, but I realize in this moment that this can’t be easy for any of them. They’re now tied to someone they don’t know, with an uncertain fate that’s not looking so good, no matter what angle it’s viewed from.
“I know we’re all feeling antsy and very eager to get away from here, but the reality is we don’t have to decide tonight. This whole tribunal thing buys us some time. Tawv said they will call one tomorrow, but I don’t know if they decide in one day or if it takes time,” Sorik states.
“Yeah, I have the feeling it could go either way. The Sovereign seemed pretty convinced they’d just do what she wants,” Siah points out.