One-Eye looked at me like I’d told him he had just become king. “Nobody asks us that,” he said.
I shrugged. “If there’s any way out of here, we need to find it. Any clues, ideas, theories… We might as well hear them all.”
“I think… What if… They’re never going to execute us,” he said, glancing at the others almost nervously. “I think they’re just keeping us here to torture us. Like, psychologically.”
“Why us?” asked Toothless. “We’ve seen more people than we can count come and go, but they keep leaving us here.”
“Who was here first?” I asked. “And who’s the last to be put in? And what did you all do?”
They went through their crimes and time. They’d never been sentenced by the king, so they’d never left the cell. They’d been in this cell anywhere from one year to almost ten. Their crimes included speaking ill of the king, stealing, breaking curfew, brawling, and the unknown. Tattoos had never been told why the guards snatched him and threw him in the basement prison.
Sadly, I was not surprised. King Ocelot’s reign of terror relied on secrecy, on feeding people’s fear that they could be arrested at any moment, night or day, for anything or nothing at all. He wanted them on edge, always looking over their shoulders, the threat of his next move lingering in the back of their minds.
Ten
By the time the guard came to feed us that evening, the men were no longer talking about raping me. A current of tension ran through the cell along with resentment at the guard’s intrusion.
“I’d like to see my father,” I said to one of the guards who delivered the food.
“And I’d like to ride a sun dragon,” he said. “Life’s a bitch, isn’t it?”
They walked off laughing, and I turned to the others. We ate our watery, sour soup and talked more about our crimes. The next morning, I tried again. And the next evening. And morning. And evening. I started to understand why the men fought so often. Frustration, the endless passage of time, and the stagnant air were our only companions. By the time the guards arrived for each of our two meals, I was so tired of the monotony I was eager to see them even though they were unmoved by my pleas. I anticipated their answers with a pounding heart, even though they were always the same.
So, when after five days of maddening boredom and inertia, a familiar face appeared, I nearly sobbed with relief. I’d never seen anything more beautiful than the lines and angles of Gabor’s smooth, strong jaw and straight, regal profile.
“Gabor,” I said, rushing to the bars and trying to grip them before remembering my hands were still bound in the iron cuffs. The other guard snickered, but Gabor cut him off with an icy glare.
His gaze moving from me to the men behind me. “This is where they put you?” he asked, his voice low. Unlike the other guards, who looked at us like lepers, he came right up to the bars, so close I could feel the warmth of his breath against my cheeks when I pressed my face between the bars.
I nodded and closed my eyes, breathing him in, too desperate to care that tears wet my lashes.
“Have you been hurt?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “These guys are my friends now. But you have to help us. Please. I just want to see my father. The other guards won’t even tell him I’m asking.”
Gabor nodded slowly. He handed the tray of food to the other guard, who began handing bowls through the bars to the others. I stood unmoving, yearning to reach through the bars and touch Gabor, to see if he was real, to run my fingertips over the perfectly carved lines of his face and memorize every detail, so that later I could lie in the dark replaying each curve and angle.
“I’ll let him know.” He lifted a hand as if he’d brush the hair from my forehead, then hesitated before wrapping it around the bars of the cell instead. His gaze searched mine as if he thought he could find more than I was telling him, as if he didn’t believe I could have convinced these men I was an ally and not their prey.
But he underestimated them, just as he underestimated me. I’d been nothing but a human to him all his life. He didn’t know what I was now. With my magic bound, I was nothing more, anyway. I had something he’d never guess a human accomplish, though. I’d earned the respect of the other prisoners, and though a convict’s loyalty might not carry much weight to a man as honorable as Gabor, it had saved my life. They accepted me because I was like them, a human. Because even so, I’d tried to overthrow the rule that had put them here. I may be a princess and a woman, but I was one of them now.
“Thank you,” I said to Gabor.
His dismissal ached deep in my chest. I wanted him to think I was good enough, that I was his equal, that I was as deserving of the throne as Camila.
“Of course, Your Grace.”
I held onto his words after he left. The prisoners didn’t ask about my murmured conversation. For once, the meal was eaten in subdued silence. I kept checking the others, wondering if they’d changed their minds about me after seeing me address an ocelot guard in such a familiar manner. And though no one said anything, I wondered if they’d been reminded of my status by Gabor’s parting words.
Your Grace.
No one called me that here. Here, I was just like them—a common criminal. The guards spoke crudely to me, insulted me, and degraded me. They dumped my food, pretended it was an accident, and laughed at me while I got down on the floor ate it. Yeah, it was dirty, but I’d be damned if I’d starve because of them.
I’d almost forgotten how it felt to be addressed with a title of respect.
I remembered the last time I’d seen him, when he’d called me Itzel. Had he simply done that because Camila didn’t want my royal title used, because she didn’t think me worthy of it anymore? Had he done if for her? Had that been hard for him? Or had it been because he was appealing to me as an equal, without my title or his ocelot status, letting us meet with a deep understanding on a human level? I had appealed to his sense of honor, and maybe he was appealing to mine, human to human, to come to an agreement that using my magic on anyone was cruel and wrong.
That night, I laid my heavy cuffs on my chest and smiled into the darkness. I may have been a common criminal, but I was also a princess. And despite everything I’d done, despite our last encounter, his words told me that one person still saw me that way.
In the morning, we heard the clang of the door at the end of the corridor, and the six of us rose, our stomachs clamoring for food. My heart flooded with relief when I saw Gabor’s stony face. And then I saw the man behind him, and everything in me went still.
“I see you’ve survived your first week in prison,” King Ocelot said, his cold blue eyes surveying me with intrusive thoroughness before darting to my companions and back. “Those cuffs must work miracles. I should pay the ironsmith extra next time.”
I couldn’t answer. My tongue felt frozen in my mouth. I had asked to see him, but I wasn’t prepared for the storm of emotions that raged through me when I laid eyes on the man who had raised me as his own. He’d been my father, though part of him must have known or at least suspected I was not his daughter. But I couldn’t give him much credit even for that, the way I could have if he’d been a good father.
Instead, he’d treated me as a second-class citizen after killing my biological father, one who might have wanted me more than he did. He’d killed my lover in front of me just to teach me a lesson. And worse than any of that, he’d killed my mother, eaten her alive, and told his daughters that panther rebels had done it.
“Your Majesty,” Gabor said when I didn’t answer in the appropriate amount of time after being addressed by a king. “There is an empty cell next to this one, if you’d like to protect Princess Itzel from any impropriety.”
The corner of the king’s lips twitched, but I couldn’t tell if it was humor or annoyance. “I see that,” he said slowly. His eyes stayed locked on me with unnerving intensity.
“Father,” I said, recovering myself at last. “I’m glad you could take time out of
your day to visit your ‘daughter.’ If we’re still pretending that’s who I am.”
King Ocelot’s eyes narrowed. “Your sister said you visited the Spirit World.”
“Sure did,” I said. “Guess you’re not too happy about that. Is that the real reason I’m in this cell with the other criminals you’ve made disappear?”
He let out a snort of breath and looked at my companions with disgust. “You think these cockroaches are a threat to me?”
“Aren’t they?” I asked. “Why else have you left them here when everyone else has been executed or freed to work off their sentence? Trust me, these men have served their sentences. They’ve all been here for years.”
He looked at the others for a moment like he’d just realized they were living things. He raised a hand, then paused, making sure all eyes were on him, that we waited with bated breath for his command.
“Guard,” he said at last. “Release these men outside the palace walls. Apparently their sentences have been served.”
“Your Majesty?” asked the second guard, blinking in disbelief at my father.
“Take them,” Father said.
“Now, Your Majesty?” Gabor asked.
“Yes, now,” King Ocelot snapped. “I’d like to speak with the traitor alone.”
“Th-thank you,” Toothless stammered, bowing to the king. At least, I thought he was bowing to my father until he passed me and pressed a fist to his heart in a sign of strength. I swallowed hard. My throat felt thick suddenly. These men had kept me sane during the endless monotony of the past week. I couldn’t imagine the suffering and anguish they’d faced during their years in here, and I wanted them to be free, to live the rest of their lives as best they could. But I’d also miss them. Without them, I’d be alone here, and I didn’t know how long my sanity would last.
They followed the guards out, several of them muttering thanks to me and shooting me questioning looks, as if they thought maybe they’d be led out and executed outside the palace walls. I was as confused as they were. I had no idea why my father was following my suggestion, other than the fact that he didn’t want an audience for whatever he was about to do to me.
That thought sent a cold chill down my spine. This man had killed and eaten his own wife.
“Why’d you let them go?” I asked when they’d disappeared through the door at the end of the hall, leaving us in an empty corridor bordered by half a dozen empty cells.
“Would you rather I’d had them killed?” he asked.
That was the thing about my father. He wasn’t always cruel. He could very well have told the guards to slice off all their heads here and now. No one would ever know but me and the two guards. Instead, he’d let the men go free. In some weird way, it made the terror worse. It kept hope alive, knowing that sometimes he could be benevolent.
“I didn’t want you to kill them,” I said. “I’m just surprised you didn’t already do it.”
“I don’t kill criminals,” he said. “A king’s hands should not be stained with such dirty blood.”
“Guess the blood of your wife was clean enough.”
He stared at me a long moment, and even though I knew his mind was twisted beyond redemption, I wished I knew what was going on in it.
“The truth is, I don’t remember what those men did,” he said with a shrug, as if it were meaningless. “Sometimes the guards don’t fill out the records, or one gets misplaced, and the prisoner ends up here waiting forever. His number never comes up.”
I stared at him, my heart thudding in my chest. He didn’t even know what the criminals had done. Ten years of someone’s life, and probably most of his sanity, had been wasted in this cell, watching others come and go, never being called. They would have died here if I hadn’t said something. The king probably didn’t even remember they were here until he’d come down. After all, the guards were the ones who brought the prisoners down, took them up for sentencing, and dragged them back down to await execution if they weren’t released. My father probably hadn’t been down here in ten years, and the guards obviously hadn’t brought this oversight to his attention.
“And my mother?” I asked, my heart drumming loud in my ears. “What crime did she commit to earn her sentence?”
“I should have known you’d be like her,” he said, shaking his head. “I hoped it would be Camila, but a cold fish like her couldn’t have magic like you have. But you…”
He looked me up and down in a way that made my skin crawl. I stepped back from the bars, suddenly scared of him in a whole new way. He caught the movement and gave me a slimy little smile.
“You’re not even going to make excuses for killing her, are you?” I demanded. “Is that what you’re planning to do to me, too? Because it won’t give you my magic, if that’s what you’re after.”
“I know that better than anyone,” he said. “And why would I make excuses? Your mother had become too powerful, too beloved in this country.”
“She was the queen,” I said. “Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Not when they loved her more than me,” he said with a dismissive air. “She was an upstart queen. I was true royalty, not her. But the people loved her more. That was dangerous. It’s the same reason Camila can’t let you advise her. I should have stopped that silly notion a long time ago. Even before your magic was unlocked, it was inside you, drawing them to you. I didn’t want to believe it, but it was right in front of me all along. Everything about you. Your body. Your personality. The way you draw people in. You would always be a danger to her. So, I suppose it’s a good thing you showed your intent now instead of waiting until she was on the throne and realized you had more power in this country than she did.”
“That’s why you killed Mom? Because you were threatened by the fact that she had more power than you?”
“The more people who loved her, the more likely she’d love one of them back.”
“She wouldn’t have cheated again,” I said, glaring at him. “You wouldn’t let her be with her True Mate. That’s the only reason she had an affair.”
“How could I let her go?” he demanded. “The High Priestess is one of the most powerful magical beings in the world, and she was mine. I’m a king. I needed that power.”
“That’s all it’s about with you, isn’t it?” I asked. “You just wanted power—at any cost.”
He glared at me, his blue eyes glittering. “I couldn’t hand her over to some diplomat who didn’t know the first thing about it. I’d been married to her for ten years. I knew how to use it subtly to my advantage. He would have squandered it!” My father’s voice rose, his face reddening with self-righteous anger as he spoke. When he finished, he stared at me, breathing hard.
“Mom knew how to use it,” I said quietly.
“Your mother was a small-minded coward,” he said. “She just wanted to play matchmaker and save plants from extinction during the disaster era. If I’d been born with her magic, I could have ruled the world. She didn’t deserve it.”
“And you did?”
“I could have done so much more if I’d started taking the magic from her earlier, but she had me under her spell. That’s why she died. Not because of me. Because of her magic. The last thing I wanted was to kill her and lose access to her magic.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my heart hammering. “Are you saying you didn’t kill her?”
“I had a sorcerer coming to siphon her magic so I could use it. If I didn’t, she would have used it to escape.” He looked at me with such expectation, like I should understand that rationale perfectly.
“Of course she wanted to escape,” I said. “You imprisoned her.”
“She wasn’t in prison,” he snapped. “You’re in prison. She was in a lavish apartment with everything she could ask for provided to her by my generosity. I wanted to protect her when she went into heat. That’s why I wouldn’t let her out.”
“Then why didn’t you release her when it was over?”
&nb
sp; “She was from one of the lowest ranking ocelot families,” King Ocelot snarled. “I was the prince. She shouldn’t have wanted to leave.”
I stared at him a long moment, remembering my own imprisonment in a lavish apartment. “You gave her everything,” I said slowly. “Except her freedom.”
“My only mistake was not having that sorcerer take enough magic,” he said, ignoring my comment, speaking almost as if he were reciting something he’d said to himself a hundred times. “I thought it was a constant. But the more I took, the more she made, and she grew more powerful than I knew. When she hit me with it that day… It wasn’t me who killed her, Itzel. I was under her enchantment. It was the fault of her magic that led to her end, not me.”
I just stared at him in disbelief. I couldn’t comprehend how he could say those things and mean them, but I knew my father well enough to read the sincerity in his face. He truly believed he wasn’t to blame for killing and eating his wife. That it wasn’t his fault.
“And what about all the guards you had executed for failing to protect her?” I asked. “What about the blame you placed on the Panther Nation that nearly led to the annihilation of their entire species?”
“That would have happened anyway,” he said. “There was no saving them. They can’t blame me for the poor management of their tribe. I ran our country like a true leader, and if I’d given up our precious resources, they’d never have paid their debt. They’d have squandered them, too. They were in a sinking ship of their own making. It’s not my job to bail out every nation who uses up their resources and comes begging for a handout when they realize their ship is sinking into the sea.”
“And the guards?” I asked through clenched teeth. I already knew he would have some justification for that, too. Nothing was his fault. In his eyes, he’d always done a great job, even if it led to the death of our people, other nations, or the queen herself.
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