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Kingdom Above the Cloud

Page 18

by Maggie Platt


  “That was when I first started dreaming of a new way. I had ideas, grandiose goals and inspired vision. I could see that our mountain needed to change if it was going to thrive. But Adwin didn’t want me to steal any of his power. I see that now. He began teaching me all sorts of things and taking me along on extraordinary quests. I thought we were becoming the greatest of friends, the most powerful of allies. It wasn’t until later that I realized he was only manipulating my young heart.

  “He thought he could squelch my desires and aspirations by distracting me from them, and he was successful for several years. But in the end, I was not to be deterred. I began teaching others about the possibilities for a brighter future, a future based on Pleasure, Adoration, Perfection, Prosperity, Wisdom, Power and Control. Before long I had most of the city behind me. I went to Adwin and shared my philosophy with him. I so desperately wanted his partnership. Above all else, I wanted him beside me as I ruled this mountain,” he said, walking Tovi past several scenes of growing torch-bearing mobs.

  “Soon enough, I had so much support that there was no use fighting it. Adwin fled from the mountain, swearing he would one day retaliate and win the mountain back.”

  Tovi and Damien walked along the wall, watching as the mural illustrated parts of his story. When they reached the place that showed Silas heading for the valley, they stopped. “My heart has never completely healed from that moment when he walked away. It all could have been such a happy ending. Instead, he chose to leave me, and I will never forgive him for that.”

  He wandered through his own musings for just a moment and then apologized. “Forgive me for rambling. It is hard to be concise when telling a story so close to my heart. I just can’t stand to see you being misled the way I was. That man who claims to be a good king spends more time making you those silly flowers than fixing all the hurt in the world.”

  The sound of several voices drew near, and party guests swarmed through the door. Calix approached Tovi and Damien and said, “It got a bit chilly outside. We didn’t interrupt anything, did we?”

  “Of course not. Just a little history lesson,” Damien answered as a servant refilled his glass with blood-red wine. Speaking directly to Tovi, he said, “We will continue our lessons in the morning. See you at breakfast.”

  He vanished into the crowd, leaving Tovi confused, heartbroken, and bitterly furious. The buzzing had subsided, but it was replaced by a throbbing headache and a feeling like she was in the room but not fully present.

  It was quite late when the guests finally dispersed. Xanthe accompanied Tovi and Calix back to the house and up to the terrace. She asked if she could speak to Tovi privately, and Calix reluctantly agreed.

  As soon as they were alone, Xanthe whispered excitedly, “So, what do you think? Why do we see the mural differently? I mean, it has to mean something that I see his eyes as brown and you see them as blue. It’s got to be something important. Don’t you think?”

  “I have so much to tell you,” Tovi said weakly, massaging her temples. She recounted her conversation with Damien as quickly and quietly as she could.

  “So, you do know him? You just didn’t know that you know him? This is unbelievable, Tovi! It’s all true, then! He’s real . . . Tell me everything about him.”

  The excitement in Xanthe’s voice grated on Tovi’s nerves. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what he’s done to me.”

  Calix stepped through the door and looked at Xanthe with annoyance. “It’s late. Shouldn’t you be leaving?”

  Her face fell back into its lifeless mask. “Haven’t you noticed that Tovi hasn’t earned her rose yet? His Majesty asked me to give her some extra tutoring since she’s proving to be slow with this one. And apparently you haven’t been any help since she’s been here.”

  His eyes narrowed, and Tovi was fairly certain that he didn’t buy it. But either way, he went back into the house.

  “Tomorrow night,” Tovi said. “Tomorrow I’ll meet you at the HH, and I’ll tell all of you everything.”

  Xanthe nodded and rushed home. Finally, Tovi was alone with her confused and tortured thoughts. She stood at the railing of her balcony, eyes searching the skyline punctuated with lit windows. He was out there. She didn’t want to miss him, but she did. She wanted to hate him, and it was easy. How could she love and despise the same person so thoroughly? How could Silas, her dear friend, have done those things? How could he be responsible for kidnapping her from her parents? How could he be the one who stole her brother? What kind of monster would do this to her, all the while pretending to love her?

  His face swam before her eyes, and another wave of hatred coursed through her veins. The marks on her back were on fire, and she could hardly bear it. She wanted desperately to go home, but she didn’t know where that would be.

  Calix came out to the terrace and stood just behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. He gently tugged her toward the door, and she let him lead her back inside. Any distraction was welcome. She hoped that giving into his desires would dull the hate and pain in her heart.

  CHAPTER 36

  King Damien sat on his throne, thrilled to see the last few lingering guests leave. There was too much circling his mind. Tovi and Tali. Twins. Dark blue. Brown with a purple star. A boy and a girl.

  His thoughts flipped to a night twenty years ago. How different his life was then. His adoring wife still alive. His son married to the graceful and kind Thomae. Two young grandchildren, a boy and a girl, bringing light and life and joy to the palace. And then it all changed so suddenly. He rarely thought about that night and the horrors it held.

  Everything had been completely fine. Thomae’s pregnancy had been healthy and just like the other two. But, the birth of the third child did not go as planned.

  A strong baby boy with brown eyes and a purple star in his left iris. The wispy fuzz on his head was dark blue. The moment Damien laid eyes on him, he knew he was the third conqueror in the prophecy.

  And then the unthinkable. Princess Thomae began to moan. The midwives pressed on her abdomen and looked stricken. “What is it?” the King demanded.

  Twins.

  Within a few minutes another baby arrived. A little girl with bright blue eyes.

  Terrifying colors. He had feared it would one day happen, but he had been prepared to stop them from having a fourth someday in the future. He thought he had time. He thought he could find a way to keep his family together while ensuring there would never be a fourth. But she was here. The fourth.

  Within the hour he had sent them to be executed. The mother and the babies. He had adored five-year-old Helena with her violet eyes and blonde curly pigtails, but she had sneaked in the room to get a peek at the new baby. She had seen there were two. No one could know. She had to be killed as well, but it had nearly been the end of him to give that order.

  He could still hear Thomae’s screams as the babies were whisked out of the room. She never even held the second one.

  Worse than those screams, he could still hear little Lena’s whimpers and cries of “Grandpapa!” as he turned his back and the guards took her away. He could still taste the vomit in his mouth as he was violently sick all that night.

  Lena. Such a bright and shining star in his dark sky. When he allowed himself to think about her, one particular memory always surfaced.

  She was four years old, and she sat on his lap wearing a pink dress. The mountain hadn’t turned away from colorful clothing yet. Her blonde curls bounced around her cherub face as she giggled. “No, Grandpapa! It goes like this!” she cried gleefully, straightening Damien’s crown, which he had purposely set on his head at an angle.

  “What do you mean, young lady? Do you think this looks silly?” he asked, pushing the crown off one ear again.

  She was beside herself, scrunching her eyes and nose and shrieking the way only a small child can. “Yes, Grandpapa! You are silly.”

  He helped her straighten the crown
once more. “Would you like to wear this crown someday when you are old enough?” he asked tenderly. She shook her head and frowned. “Why not, my dear girl? You can have my crown and my throne.”

  She looked lovingly at her grandfather as if contemplating something very serious. He had a hard time remembering she was only four and not a very, very wise old soul. “Grandpapa, your chair is too big for me, and it is a very heavy crown.”

  He shook himself and blinked away the black tears that had collected in his eyes. He must not think of sweet Lena now.

  How had the babies survived? And did anyone else know their true identity? It was clear Tovi was completely ignorant of her rightful place in this very palace. What about the boy? Did he know? Is that why he was wandering somewhere in the hills?

  A subtle cough roused his attention. “Excuse me, Your Majesty,” Megara said from the doorway. “May I interrupt your thoughts?”

  “Come in, dear girl. What is it?”

  She approached his throne swiftly, and he could tell by the shine in her normally dull eyes that she had something delicious to tell him. “I must report a heart. It’s Xanthe. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I know she is almost family.”

  Damien froze, staring intently at his weapon. “Xanthe? Have you seen it?”

  “No. I heard her speak of it. She and Tovi have attended some sort of secret meeting for rebels with hearts in their hands. It’s disgusting, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you, you may go,” he declared.

  “But, Your—”

  “You may go,” he said more forcefully. Megara’s face crumpled in disappointment, but she turned around and exited the room.

  Damien closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. He had never felt so tired.

  CHAPTER 37

  Lyra and Hesper stood on the upper balcony of the HH headquarters keeping watch for approaching members—or worse. It was a calm, cool evening, and Hesper’s arm rested across Lyra’s shoulders. Their children were tucked in bed, and being alone reminded Lyra of the years of their courtship. She smiled up at her husband, who leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose with a laugh. Then, a movement below caught their attention.

  A figure appeared in the distance wearing a cloak with a hood. He, or at least Lyra guessed it was a he, stood in the middle of the road as if he was waiting on someone or something. Just a moment later, Xanthe turned a corner very close to him. The man put out his hands in a gesture of trying to stop her.

  A few words drifted to them in the quiet of the night. “Don’t” and “Further” were clearly heard. Xanthe attempted to struggle past, but he blocked her path.

  “I should go help her,” Hesper said.

  “No! We can’t be caught out there together. No one would understand why you would protect a Master who was suspiciously found in the Bottom Rung.”

  Before Hesper could argue, two palace guards appeared, taking hold of Xanthe. The women in black body suits looked fierce and lethal, even from such a distance. They dragged Xanthe out of sight.

  “Oh no!” Lyra whimpered. “What does this mean? Where are they taking her?”

  Hesper continued to stare at the mysterious, cloaked man who still stood in the street. He had not done anything to stop the guards, but he didn’t appear to be one of them. And then, the cloaked man turned and looked directly at the spot where the couple stood.

  As Hesper and Lyra watched, the stranger raised his right hand to shoulder height and made the secret salute, drawing half a heart in the air.

  Lyra gasped. Surely this was no friend of theirs. But how then would he know . . . ?

  The man was walking toward the HH. “Come with me,” Hesper commanded. “I will go outside to meet him. You lock the door behind me, and then tell everyone to hide. It may be time.”

  “But Meira has not returned! It can’t be time.”

  “We may have to go without her.”

  “I can’t lock you outside, darling. What if something happens to you?” she wailed, holding Hesper tight.

  “I will be fine. After I have determined if he is friend or foe, I will give you a sign. Come back to the window after telling the others to hide. If I give the HH signal, you must leave me and go to the mines with the others. If I knock three times, you may open the door for us. Understood?”

  Lyra trembled, hating her husband’s bravery but determined to match it. She nodded and followed him down to the entrance. She closed and locked the door behind him, whispering, “Oh Adwin, if you are out there, protect him!” and she hustled back up the stairs.

  “Quickly, friends! Into hiding. Something is amiss outside. Hesper has gone to investigate. Quickly, quickly! Help the children into the closets, that’s right. Everyone else, you know where to go. Be ready. If I come back and say we must go to the mines, then do not hesitate to obey me. I will be right back.”

  After seeing everyone safely into their hiding places, she ran back down the stairs. She pulled back a curtain and looked through the glass.

  Hesper was weeping in the embrace of the strange man. The stranger’s cloak had fallen back, revealing messy hot pink hair.

  Still clutching the man’s shoulder with one hand, Hesper wiped his eyes with the other. He led the stranger to the door and knocked three times.

  Baffled, Lyra opened it. She looked into the stranger‘s big teal eyes, and somehow, she knew every second of waiting had been worth it. Every doubt, sleepless night, and moment of danger paled, and she would do it all a hundred times more for this man.

  “Adwin,” she said, and his broad smile confirmed it. “Please, come inside.” She couldn’t stop staring at his face as he entered and removed his cloak.

  “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?” he asked.

  “Of course. Right in here,” she answered, still staring in shock. “Let me tell the others that they may get out of their hiding place.”

  “Good idea, but please don’t tell them I am here. I need to speak with both of you first, before I meet them.”

  Lyra nodded and once more made her rounds of the building, asking the members of the HH to wait upstairs while she and Hesper met with their guest. When she returned to the downstairs sitting room, Adwin said, “Your husband asked about Xanthe, and I wanted to wait until you returned so I could tell you both. She is being taken to the palace, where she will be put in prison for her heart.”

  Lyra gasped. “Why did you let that happen?”

  “I know this will be hard to understand,” he said with great pain and sadness evident in the creases around his eyes. “But I had to stop her for many reasons. One of those reasons is for her good and just between her and me. The other is much broader and far-reaching. If I had allowed her to pass, the guards would have caught up to her right in front of this building. All of you would have been in grave danger, and there wouldn’t have been time to go into the mines. Everything you have worked for, in my name, would be wasted.”

  “You know about that?” Hesper asked.

  Adwin tried to answer, but Lyra hastily interrupted, “My dear, who do you think commanded Meira to prepare the mines? Of course, Adwin knows about the mines.”

  “It would be better if you called me Silas. That way if you are ever overheard, you may be protected. Very few people on the mountain know my new name. And you are correct, I gave the orders for Meira to create tunnels and hideaways in the mines. But it is not time to utilize those yet. I have come for a different reason.”

  “What is it, Silas?” Lyra asked, trying out the new name and liking it.

  “Two reasons, actually. First, I must ask a dangerous favor of you and the HH. Second, and more importantly, I have come to break bread with my bravest, most loyal friends. Someday you will understand why I waited so long, but that wait is now over. I am so pleased and so proud of both of you,” he said, taking both Hesper and Lyra into his arms as if they were children. They let him surround them and both wept. Their long wait was indeed over, and their hope had been turned to reality.
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  CHAPTER 38

  Lying in the dark of Calix’s room, Tovi stared toward the ceiling and listened to the deep, even breaths that told her he was asleep. Her back was on fire, and she couldn’t get comfortable. She quietly rose from the bed and tiptoed down the hall, making her way to her own room and her now-familiar terrace.

  Sitting under the stars in the cool of night, Tovi tried to accept the truth about Silas. Her best friend. The king who stole everyone she had loved. How could they be one and the same? Her head pounded and her heart ached. She wanted to scream that nothing made sense, but she knew deep inside that everything did make sense.

  A commotion in the courtyard made Tovi stand and approach the railing. Two guards pulled Xanthe by the arm, dragging her toward the palace. “Let go of me!” Xanthe protested, her voice echoing against the stone buildings. The women ignored her.

  Forgetting everything else, Tovi ran barefoot down the stairs and out the door, staying in the shadows but following as closely as she could. She sneaked into the palace, staying just a few paces behind the guards and Master causing such a big scene. When Xanthe was led into the throne room, Tovi stayed at the door, peering in and listening.

  “Do you know why you are here?” King Damien asked calmly.

  By now Xanthe was disheveled but still beautiful. Her hair was in disarray, and her dress had slipped off one shoulder. “No, I do not know why I was dragged here so roughly in the middle of the night.”

  “Take off your gloves.”

  Xanthe opened her mouth to say something but stopped as soon as she heard the command.

  “I said, take off your gloves.”

  They were the same gloves she had been wearing when she spoke to Tovi in the garden, the ones with the pearls at the wrists.

  “Your Majesty, I—”

  “Take off your gloves!” Damien bellowed, the veins in his eyes momentarily expanding so they looked webbed.

 

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