“There you go with those damn ifs and maybes again.”
“That’s all I’ve got.”
“Usually is.”
“Your idea about the palace makes sense. As soon as you can break away from this, head over there and look for Jillyan. Whatever Jem has done, whatever shape you find her in, get out of the city. Don’t come back here.”
“Wait,” he tried to argue.
I wasn’t having it. “All of this is to amuse him. Once these distractions are gone, and it’s just us, Jem will hurt you to hurt me.” Determination turned my stare cold and harsh. “I didn’t drag you out of that pile of bodies to watch you die.”
“You know, it’s creepy when you glare at me with those white eyes?”
“That’s the point.”
With a defeated exhale, he relented. “Fine, I’ll go. Just make sure you knock that sick bastard off his perch.”
I pulled both swords. “You can count on it.”
FIFTY TWO
A shadow crossed mine. I stepped to the right and an armored Langorian landed on my left with a heavy thud. His dented forehead bore the imprint of a studded mace.
Behind me, steel struck chain. Krillos yelled, “Get!”
One set of prisoners was free.
I turned, lunging for the muscle-bound Langorian attempting to sneak up my flank. My sword cut deep. I took the blade back with a yank, dragging out a mess of blood and meat to color the sand. Another rushed me. I kicked beneath his swing and planted a boot in his groin. Knocking the man’s arm aside, I slid a length of steel through his belly. Adrenaline mixed with a sudden pang of yearning, and I was struck with the notion to cast and be done with it. Put an end to the spell-stubborn men and all of Jem’s cheering sycophants.
The marks on my soul no longer mattered, anyway. I’d be surrendering it soon enough.
Movement flashed on my left. With a quick shift of my feet, wood swiped past me in a blur; missing my head and smashing into the body impaled on my sword. I withdrew and sliced through the dense thighs of the man with the club. A sword hilt to the jaw knocked him down with his friend. Sinking a sword into both their hearts, I slid a glance to the Arullans on my right. Standing and watching, they seemed content to let the ruffians have a go first.
The bear was still tied to my left. His vigorous movements were loosening the sand around the metal stakes as he struggled to reach the one-armed man shamelessly taunting him. The amusement on Krillos’ face—without the scars to dampen it—put a grin on my own. I was still smiling as I turned and traded swings with my next set of challengers.
Clubs battered my swords. Steel bit into wood. The brutal impact ricocheted up my arms. The weight difference between us was not in my favor. Their unrelenting strikes were pushing me toward the bear. I was losing ground fast.
Engaging the crown’s power, I isolated the amber. I sent a few droplets of magic down my hands, into the hilts of my swords, and along the blades. My weapons pulsed with a subtle orange hue. They made contact with the clubs and amber adhered to the wood. It expanded, spreading thick and limpid, encasing my opponents in a crystalline shell the same dark-ginger color as my eyes.
I swung. The casings, and the bodies inside them, shattered like glass.
My vision returned as the amber evaporated. The shards of the two men lay strewn about the sand, glinting in the morning sun. I wasn’t entirely sure how I’d done it. I hadn’t picked the spell. It was more like the spell picked me. The library.
The ancient spells contained within it were coming to me in random, instinctive ways. It was exciting and dangerous, but I had to keep my head. I was already standing on the site where one mass grave was dug in my name. I didn’t want another.
A mass of pink bounded past me. The bear scooped up a body, dug giant claws in the sand, and brought itself to a halt. After throwing its catch playfully into the air, the enormous creature settled down to enjoy its meal.
Krillos ran up beside me.
I glanced at him. “I thought you were going to slow it down?”
“What do you think I’m trying to do? Take it out for a walk?”
The last two Langorians rushed us in concert. As I swapped steel with mine, Krillos batted away his attacker’s club with the mace and delivered a vicious head-butt. Their collision produced a crack loud enough to make me cringe. But as the man staggered back, Krillos laughed; proving his head was as hard as I thought. His claws cut across the man’s throat. I gave a kick to the last Langorian and sent him into the path of the bear. The resulting crunch was drowned by the crowd’s enthusiastic approval.
Wiping the sand and sweat from my eyes, I checked on my father. He was still taking in our performance, waiting for it to be done; waiting for me to come to him. All that stood between us now was the bear and the Arullans. The latter advanced.
Widening their line, two of the leather-clad warriors came at me. One went for Krillos. The fourth hung back, as Krillos and I stood side by side and met the attack head on. The women were aggressive. Their swordplay was excellent. Their fast, hard hits came even faster as Krillos egged his opponent on, begging her to take him down.
I breached leather. My sword sliced into an arm, a leg, a shoulder. As their wounds added up, my adversaries stumbled. I was setting up for a kill shot when the fourth woman moved in and delivered a deadly swipe across the backs of two of her own. Spinning, she impaled the third. Watching in shock as the bodies fell, I was too slow on the defense. The lone Arullan warrior knocked my sword aside and extended the point of her blade under my chin.
Krillos shifted his weight. He was about to intervene when my opponent lowered her sword. She sheathed it with a flourish. Unhooking the helm obscuring her head, she tossed the covering to the sand.
I nearly dropped my sword as Jillyan shook out her hair and smiled.
Krillos grunted. “Told you she wasn’t dead.”
Her brows lifted in amusement. “You had me written off, Shinree?”
“Not at all.” I shot a quick frown at Krillos. “I appreciate the help,” I said, turning back to Jillyan. “And the outfit,” I added, admiring the clingy black leather.
“I should think so.” Her gaze left mine and ran over Krillos with open appreciation. “You look quite dashing today, Captain.”
“Do I?” he grinned. “It’s a wonder what some new skin will do for ya.”
“Clean skin, as well.” Jillyan ran a sleeve over the sweat on her brow. “I am very much in need of a bath.”
“You can take one in Kabri. Krillos is getting you out of here.”
Inching toward me, she asked, “Do I appear in need of assistance?”
“No, but my rescue will be far less impressive if you get yourself killed.”
“Your rescue?” she teased. “Well, I would never want to tarnish your reputation. But my leaving has one condition, Troy. Finish this. Today. It is time you unravel the tangle we have found ourselves in.” I started to ask what she meant, and Jillyan’s hand touched my chest. “Events have tied our families together since your mother delivered Malaq into this world. Your discovery of the Crown of Stones put me on Langor’s throne. My actions have put your father on his. All that has come between has changed us both. Knowing you has altered the course of my life, Shinree. Do not let it have been in vain.”
“I don’t—”
“Listen, so I may say this only once.”
I glanced at my father. “Jillyan, whatever this is, now isn’t the time.”
“This may be the only time.”
She was right. I held my tongue and let her speak.
“There is something in you that emboldens others. You inspire without trying. You linger in the minds and hearts of many without even knowing. Your strength makes us want to be stronger.” With fierce, deliberate eyes and a soft kiss to my cheek, she said, “I will soon leave this land
for another. But I take a part of you with me. Do you understand?”
I didn’t at all. My confusion, as Jillyan moved off, was obvious.
Chuckling at me under his breath, Krillos hoisted his mace. “Think Emperor Eldring over there will let us leave?”
“Letting you go gives him the opportunity to fight me one on one, to show me up. To prove he’s better. It’s all Jem’s ever wanted.” Krillos looked unconvinced. “I won’t let him stop you.”
“Okay, then,” he nodded. “Watch your back and give ’em hell.”
Krillos walked away. I thought I could let him. I thought I could watch him go for what would likely be the last time and say nothing. I couldn’t. “You took everything I thought I knew about Langorians and turned it on its head. You and your damn pirates. Thank you for that.”
He glanced back. “Thank Malaq. I wanted to throw you overboard.”
I caught his wink as he turned. Jillyan’s parting stare was full of a dozen things I couldn’t name. She broke it off, and they headed toward the exit. Their pace was slow, to avoid snagging the bear’s attention. I waited until they cleared the arena doors then I went the other way.
As I advanced on the dais, spectators waved at me from the stands. Many shouted my name, applauding like I was a favorite to win whatever game we were playing.
Thirty paces from the edge of the platform I stopped and held position. Jem rose from his chair. He took Sienn’s hand and pulled her up alongside him. I wasn’t sure if he’d spelled her to cooperate, but by all appearances, she’d been treated as an honored guest.
Bathed and styled in a sleeveless, elegant gown, the rich gold fabric flowed over Sienn’s willowy frame as if it were tailored for her. The high neck encased her throat. The bodice was detailed with a sweeping pattern of white ribbon and opals. The hem rode above her knees in the front. A gauze train fanned out from the back, trailing like a golden mist as Sienn accompanied Jem down the stairs and out onto the sand.
They stopped a sword’s length away. Jem’s features had become even more eldring-like. An ominous, feral gleam possessed his white eyes. His ears had broadened, but shrunk in tighter to his bald head. As he twisted his elongated, hide face into a sharp-toothed grin, I knew what was coming. And I hated it; the typical cheerful way he said my name in greeting.
I decided not to endure it, or let him get in the first word. “This,” I gestured between them, “isn’t going to happen. I let Neela marry Draken and now she’s dead. No way am I making that mistake again.”
“I see,” Jem nodded. “You’re hoping to prevent the same blunder that led to Neela’s untimely end.” A lisp drew out his words. His jaw had widened since our last encounter. More jagged teeth had come into fill the space and hamper his speech. “With all you’ve done in Death’s name, would Fate really be so kind as to give you a second chance?”
“Why not? She’s giving me a second chance to put you down.”
“She?” His ridged brow lifted. “Such forward thinking, son. I’m impressed. But, as always, you’ve missed what’s in front of you. This is salt in the wound—not absolution. And why would I harm Sienn?” Jem ran his palm lovingly down the length of her hair. “Why would anyone ever?” Seizing a fistful of strands, he wrenched her head in close. “When she is clearly…” Extending his revoltingly long tongue, Jem ran the length of it up the side of her face. “Ever so tasty.”
Gods, he’s so like Draken now.
Trying not to let my worry show, I met Sienn’s stare. It was damp with silent pleading. His spell wasn’t on her. Just fear.
Jem released Sienn go with a tender pat on the head. Then his interest returned to me. “You’ve reclaimed the Princess and your one armed dog, in a brazen show the crowd clearly appreciated. I see no need for further violence.”
“And I see no need for her to be here. Sienn leaves. Then we talk.”
Jem tilted toward her. “Do as he says. My son is in a mood. And we all know where that leads.” Eyes on mine, he said, “But don’t worry, my dear. This will all be over soon.”
My father’s gaze was still fixed on me. I told myself to hold it, to not watch her leave. I couldn’t let him read it on me; how badly I wanted her safe. But as Sienn turned and headed for the stairs, I let slip a glimpse. My eyes settled on her long, lean back, made bare by the shockingly low-cut draping of her dress.
But her back wasn’t bare.
Rage tore out of my throat “Wait!”
Sienn came to a halting stop. Aware what had incited my command, she stood with her head bowed; giving me a good look at what he’d done, while Jem’s smug expression stuck in the corner of my eye.
I sheathed my swords and walked passed him.
Coming up behind Sienn, I put out a hand, but I hesitated touching her. It must have hurt. Her skin was red and sore, an indication of how recent the work was done. I was angry. Yet, it was breathtaking. In equal amounts, I wanted to comfort her and kill him—as much as I wanted run my fingers over the little bits of stone that followed the line of her spine.
Running from the nape of her neck to the curve of her backside, the cascade of colors pressed into Sienn’s back glinted against her bare flesh in the golden rays of the rising sun.
I’d caught glimpses of women wearing stones in their skin as I ran the quake-tossed streets of the old empire. He’s made her like them. Like Karis, I thought, recalling the morning Sienn and I spent in Raan’s bed. It was the first time I’d made her feel anything but pain in so long. Now, thanks to my father, even that memory was tainted.
I dropped my hand without touching her. “Get out of here. Head to the other end of the city, Krillos and Jillyan are—”
“I may have nothing left but the line of healing, Ian, but I will not leave you.”
“Nothing?”
She turned slightly. “Do not give him what he wants.”
“I didn’t plan on it.”
“He wants you.”
Sienn turned toward the dais. The stands of spelled citizens, Jem’s leering eyes, the repercussions on my mental state; none of it had any bearing as I grabbed her arm, twirled Sienn around, and kissed her. It was brief, but it was the moment I’d wanted from the instant I’d laid eyes on the woman—a moment filled solely with the feel and the taste of her.
When it was done, I didn’t linger. I didn’t speak. Words seemed pale now, anyway. So I left her in silence and went back to Jem.
We caught eyes, and open amusement played on my father’s warped lips. I wasn’t sure if my affectionate display had caught him off guard, or if he approved. Either way I didn’t care. “Let’s talk about Elek,” I said.
“Ah, yes…the pompous orator. That didn’t go as planned.”
“If Elek was yours all this time, why not assassinate Malaq in his bed in Kabri? Why wait to take him out in Langor?”
“Take him out? My, L’tarian, what you must think of me to believe every move I make must end in blood.”
“You don’t want to know what I think of you.”
Jem rumbled out a deep, stuttering laugh. “If Malaq Roarke had died in Kabri he would never have gone to Langor to take Draken’s throne.”
“You wanted Malaq to overthrow Draken?”
“Elek was tasked with subduing Roarke, not killing him. Once Langor was claimed in my name, I planned to discuss with your charming King how he might aid in the spread of my empire. After all, the man’s charisma is its own kind of magic.” Jem leaned toward me. He grinned in that way I hated, with his sharpened teeth over his bottom lip. “It’s a shame you didn’t gleam some of Malaq’s charm, son. It might have served you better than always being so eager to solve your issues with a blade. Take Draken for instance. Was his death really necessary?”
I grunted. “It’s been necessary for years. But I thought you’d be happy it was done.”
His body shook wit
h an abrupt, violent shriek. “Happy? Draken was nef’taali. The rotting state he was in was fine for my needs. Now, I have this darkness in me, this…pit,” he snarled. Jem gripped the front of his tunic and ripped the fabric apart. He thumped a hand to his muscular pelt-covered chest. “I can feel it growing, threatening my thoughts, my concentration. All I can think of is to take another.” An avarice gleam filled his eyes. His head cocked in thought and he reached toward me. With a sick smile on his gray lips, Jem’s claws bent and extended, bent and extended—like he was imagining sinking them into my skin. “But this…this damn eldring spell.” Violently, Jem struck his chest again. “It taunts me. Confuses me. Is it their soul I need…or their flesh?”
I let out an anxious breath. His ramblings were too disturbing to even warrant a reply. But there was one thing he needed to hear. “You’ll not have Sienn.”
“I’ll have whomever I please!” Staggeringly fast, Jem struck; his arm smacking into my shoulder and sweeping me aside several feet before I hit the sand.
With a wince, I tossed the hair out of my face and got up. Jem’s eyes were still white. But that wasn’t a normal blow. Lirih said he was strong like an eldring.
He was also crazy like a man with half a soul.
Is this what I’m condemning Jarryd to?
By the time I’d walked back to Jem, his emotions had stilled. His taloned hands were folded innocently in front of him. Calmly, he said, “Did you find what I require?”
“I did.”
“Give them to me. Give me the tablets.”
I spread my empty arms out wide. “You can search me if you like.”
Jem’s prominent jaw clenched. “You memorized them, didn’t you? You committed the runes to memory and destroyed the tablets.” I stayed silent. He took it for confirmation. “How did you get the translation key? Was it hidden in Tam’s journal?”
The Crown of Stones: Magic-Borne Page 44