The Captive Kingdom

by Jennifer A. Nielsen

  I pressed my brows low. “Yesterday, you told Darius you had only two days. Is that two days to find the third lens?”

  “If we read the markings on the scope correctly, then it is only two days every ten years, and only for a few precious minutes when the sun is in the proper alignment. That window opens very soon.”

  She gestured for Roden to come forward. He did, though his feet moved as if made of lead. “Take Jaron to the overlook.”

  Roden’s words were as strong as I’d ever heard him speak before. “This is wrong, Captain. You’ve wanted to punish Jaron all along. You were always going to find a reason to do it.”

  She widened her hands. “Obviously.”

  He stepped forward, preparing to draw his sword, but I gestured for him to back away. “I don’t need your rescue.” My attention shifted to Darius, who had separated himself from the crowd. “I need yours.”

  “He can do nothing for you,” Captain Strick said. “Your brother knows the consequences if he breaks our agreement again. Isn’t that correct, Darius?”

  He dipped his head at her, then said to me, “I know you’ve never been one for rules, but you must understand that here, they cannot be violated. Do you remember that time you fell from the parapet?”

  I smiled at the memory. In an attempt to complete a race around the entire castle, I had tripped and fallen, but caught a flagpole on my way down. It took a few kicks to break the window beneath it, but I did get in. “Father yelled at me for hours.”

  However, of the many lessons I’d learned that day, the consequences of violating rules was not one of them. I’d run across that same parapet only a week later. It was an odd story for Darius to mention.

  Strick looked at Darius. “You will return to your home and stay there until the evening bell, understood?”

  “I just gave you the second lens. I want to see what comes of it.”

  She lifted her chin. “If you defy me, I won’t send Jaron into that cave. Perhaps I should send a princess?”

  Darius lowered his eyes, instantly defeated. “No, I’ll leave. I’m sorry for this, Jaron.” He frowned at me, then without another word, he retreated down the hill.

  “Bring Jaron to the overlook,” Strick told Roden. “And if you question my orders again, you will go into the cave with him.”

  Roden hesitated, but I said cheerfully, “It’s perfectly fine. No visit to Belland would be complete without a visit to the overlook.”

  Strick arched a brow. “You’re an arrogant fool of a prince.”

  “King,” I muttered.

  Then she called to those who were still part of the crowd, “The Prozarians are one step closer to the end of our quest. Follow me!”

  Roden led me along with them until we caught up to Tobias, who said, “I told her you can climb that cave. She would have killed you otherwise.”

  “Her plans haven’t changed — you just gave her the way to do it.” Roden looked around us and lowered his voice. “Let’s run, all three of us.”

  I furrowed my brows. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Running isn’t part of my plan.”

  “You have no plan!”

  “You don’t know that.”

  Roden let out a heavy sigh. “All right. What’s your plan?”

  “I don’t have one. But sometimes, not having a plan is the best possible plan.”

  Since this was going nowhere, Tobias tried his alternative approach of logic. “Give them the scope, and maybe they’ll send someone else into the cave.”

  “This has nothing to do with the scope. How will it look to Darius when he comes to rescue me and I’m not even there?”

  Roden’s mouth practically fell open. “That’s what this is about? Jaron, he won’t come back, even if he wanted to. If he defies them, he puts Amarinda at risk, or Trea, or anyone else around here.” He lowered his voice. “Wilta told me that in the first week of their occupation, Darius kept trying to organize revolts. Every time he did, three or four Bellanders would disappear … into that same cave where they’re sending you!”

  Tobias stepped closer. “If we go now, you have a chance to find Fink and, hopefully, Amarinda too. That is more important than fixing your relationship with your brother.”

  “No, it all fits together, can’t you see that? Yes, we need to find Fink, and Amarinda … but neither of those matters if I don’t also make things right with Darius.”

  Tobias said, “Darius can’t be trusted. He gave up the second lens for Amarinda, he gave you up for her. He is only thinking about Amarinda!”

  My glare sharpened. “Are you any different?” When he didn’t answer, my expression tightened. “For the last time, I’m going to the overlook.”

  Roden pushed his hand through his hair, thoroughly frustrated. “Very well. Thanks to you, the devils will have us all in the end.” He frowned and they escorted me up the hillside, past the waterfall with the rock wall and pool, past the place where I’d lain in the grasses and opened a tin box that had torn at my heart. And all the way to the opening of the cave where I had climbed to my freedom only last night. I would soon descend there in captivity.

  The tall wooden arch I’d seen last night was still there. But now a pulley was suspended from its center with two ropes slung over it, one dyed red, the other blue. One end of each rope was knotted to the arch itself.

  Why were there two ropes?

  “Please don’t send me down there!” Wilta screamed.

  I turned to see two Prozarians dragging Wilta toward the arch. Her scarlet hair was tangled, her face was dirty, and the hem of her dress was torn worse than before.

  Forgetting me, Roden ran forward to Captain Strick, who was speaking to Mercy and Lump near the arch.

  “Why is she here?” he shouted. “She is innocent!”

  Lump swatted Roden across the mouth, knocking him to his back.

  Strick laughed. “She has been helping Jaron.”

  “So have I.” Roden stood again. “If this is a punishment, then use me instead.”

  By then, I had reached the cave opening. I peeked down and quickly pulled back, feeling dizzy. Heights had never bothered me, but this was different. When I had entered this same cave last night, it was during low tide when there was only beach. But it was high tide now, and the entrance was entirely filled with water, in constant turbulence as it crashed against the cave walls.

  Ignoring Roden, Strick stood across the opening from me. “I know your plan. If I sent you down alone, you would return, claiming to have found nothing, and later return to fetch the lens for yourself.”

  I clicked my tongue. “That’s a terrible idea. Only a great fool would ever think of it.”

  Strick missed my insult, which was disappointing. Instead, she continued, “Wilta is the guarantee that you will not trick us. In twelve minutes, the sun will fall to the exact position necessary to show where the third lens is hidden. In fifteen minutes, the tide will have risen inside the cave high enough to reach Wilta. If you have the lens by then, we will pull you both out alive. In thirty minutes, the tide will be high enough that any chance to recover the lens will be lost, and your lives will be lost with it. If anything happens to that lens — a scratch, a smear of dirt — both you and Wilta will pay the price for it.”

  I arched a brow. “That’s rather dramatic, don’t you think? Why don’t you send Wilta down and leave me out of it?”

  “What?” Wilta’s eyes widened almost more than I would have thought possible. “Jaron, this is no game.”

  “Of course it is.” I looked over at Mercy. “Or am I wrong in thinking you were just exchanging wagers with a few people in the crowd?”

  He shrugged. “Some of us believe you will find the third lens in there. Most of us think the two of you will die before either finds it.”

  “And you honor your wagers, I assume.”

  “Yes, always.”

  “Put me down for us both escaping the cave without anyone knowing i
f I’ve found the third lens. That is my wager against the entire total that you collect from everyone else.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “You cannot wager for yourself. Where would I get my money after you die?”

  I looked at Roden. “He’ll pay it.”

  Roden cursed under his breath. I figured I deserved at least that much.

  “And what if you win?” Mercy asked.

  “You help me rescue Amarinda.”

  Mercy smiled at this new development. “There is only one way out of the cave, and that is back into our hands. You cannot win this wager.”

  “That’s why the stakes are so high.”

  “Very well.” Mercy recorded my wager in the book he carried, and no doubt he was pleased with the numbers he saw there.

  Wilta’s hands were shaking when Lump led her closer to the opening, but her expression when she looked at me was sharper than a dagger.

  One end of the red rope was tied around Wilta’s chest while tears streamed down her face. She folded her arms tightly around her middle, shaking her head and silently mumbling what might have been a prayer to the saints. I could almost guarantee that only the devils would listen.

  Mercy led me to the opposite side of the opening, removed my jerkin — leaving me only in a white linen shirt — and tied the blue rope around my chest and beneath my arms, the same as had been done to Wilta. Both of our knots were fastened at the back, where we could not reach them.

  I looked over at Strick. “Let’s be serious now about what matters most. What is Lump’s name?”

  Mercy cinched the knot tighter. “That is not your concern. You are full of arrogance, witless humor, and flawed intelligence. No one will mourn if you do not survive.”

  “Then I have nothing to lose.”

  I turned around to see the gathered crowd, almost double the number of those who had been at the trial, since the pirates had been allowed here. The same Prozarians who had stood as vigils for my trial now created a barricade to ensure that nobody came too close to the arch. The former riverbed was empty other than Prozarians who stood between the groups, calling for any last-minute wagers.

  Roden had been allowed to stand beside Wilta. He held her hands and seemed to be giving her every assurance that I would keep her safe. I wished he wouldn’t have done so.

  Captain Strick took another step toward me. “You thought you had the advantage by keeping the scope, but you were wrong. Thanks to Mercy’s drawing, you see now that we will always succeed.”

  I glared back at her. “If your definition of success is complete and utter humiliation when I defeat you, then yes, you will succeed.”

  Her lip curled. “Since the moment of your capture, I’ve sought to understand you. And I believe I have you figured out at last.”

  “Oh?”

  She smiled. “It’s simple. Above all else, you wish to be the hero, the rescuer. And its opposite is your fear, that someone else will charge in at the final moment before certain death, taking the glory and winning the girl.”

  I stifled a yawn that had been nagging at me since she began her speech. “No, not really. And I should be clear, this is not the girl I would ever hope to win.”

  “Jaron!” Wilta cried. “How can you say that?”

  “No offense, my lady. You are obviously beautiful and intelligent, and you are not without charm. However, there is also a depth of evil within you that should frighten even the devils.”

  Roden ran closer. “What is the matter with you? She needs your help or she will die in there!”

  Confused, Strick stepped back, and Mercy took over once again. He began by giving me a bag to hold the lens and a small carving knife.

  “The third lens is likely embedded in the rock but disguised to look like the rock itself. You may need the knife to extract that lens, but do not break it.”

  “I won’t,” I said, then quickly added, “I won’t break it, because I will not extract it. Instead, I might use this knife to make my escape easier after I cut Wilta’s rope.”

  “Jaron, no!” Wilta’s eyes were wide with horror.

  “I might.” I winked at her. “But you’ll be fine.”

  “Please don’t let me fall!” When Wilta’s shaking failed to earn my sympathy, she shouted to the crowd, “If he can be so cold, he must be guilty.”

  “I am guilty of many things, my lady. Of being a fool and a thief, and of a recklessness unfit for a king. But you are guilty too.” I turned around and shouted to the crowd, “Bellander women, will you show me the needles in your skirts?”

  A confused murmur spread through the audience as women looked around at one another. But no one stepped forward.

  That was all I needed to know.

  I shouted, “Bellanders, Prozarians …” I eyed Mercy. “Snakes. The Monarch stands before you: Wilta, the fraud, the pretender. If you wish to bow, do it quickly.”

  Before Wilta could respond, I flashed her a grin, and jumped.

  My weight and my control of Wilta’s rope sent her careening over the edge with me. We both dropped more than halfway into the cave, but Wilta was below me, her feet nearly in the water. I had wound her rope around my arm, so although it pulled hard on my shoulder when we finished dropping, both of us were safe.

  For now.

  “Why did you say that about me?” Wilta cried. “I was forced down here, same as you!”

  “No, I don’t think so. Someone had to watch me, to be sure that I did find the third lens. The captain wouldn’t trust anyone with that task … except her own queen.”

  “Whoever you think I am, you must find the lens, or we’ll both drown in here.”

  “Why are you the Monarch and your mother is not? Did you flip a coin for the title? Or does inheritance skip a generation?”

  “Listen to me, Jaron, I’ve done everything I can to help you.”

  “And you have,” I replied. “You revealed more secrets about your people than I believe you had intended. So many that I wish our false friendship didn’t have to end now.”

  “The Bellanders have no secrets.”

  “No, Monarch, they do not.”

  I twisted enough to get a good grip on my rope, and while keeping the end of Wilta’s rope in my hands, I began to climb. It was more difficult than usual, since I had to climb with Wilta screaming at me from below. But that was to be expected, I supposed.

  “Jaron, look — the sun!”

  I paused as the sun must have descended into the angle they had been waiting for. From the opening above, warm light flooded the cave, brightening the walls, casting them in tints of deep orange and yellow.

  I twisted around on my rope, looking everywhere along the walls for any sign of a third lens, but nothing appeared different than any other place.

  “You must see something,” Wilta said, desperately scanning the walls as well. “Please, Jaron, the water is getting higher!”

  Sure enough, when I looked down, her legs were already in the water, and the waves had begun stirring her around, which also pulled at my rope.

  “You should probably climb higher,” I said, still looking around me.

  “But the lens!”

  “There, I see something!” I tried swinging toward the cave wall, but a wave grabbed Wilta and thrust her forward, carrying me with her and slamming my shoulder into a different wall. I tried to grab anything solid, but the water receded, pulling me off the wall and sucking Wilta down into its depths. When the next wave entered, I was ready. I angled my body forward so that when I crashed into the cave wall, I grabbed anything I could with both hands. The water pulled at me again, but this time, I kept my hold. From there, I moved sideways along the wall toward my target.

  Below me, Wilta climbed higher, choking on water but desperately scanning the nearest wall to her. “The lens isn’t up that high,” she said.

  “If you knew that for sure, you’d have found the lens by now.”

  The next wave pulled Wilta’s grip away from her rope and she fell
underwater again. She surfaced long enough to cry for help, but I’d found what I was looking for and was midway through using the knife to pry out a square-shaped rock. It fit neatly into my hand and had every appearance of a carved box with a lid on it of the same size. The third lens would fit perfectly inside.

  “You have it?” Wilta climbed higher on her rope again. “Let me see it.” Instead, I put the rock inside my bag and began to climb my own rope, but she called, “Wait!”

  I stopped climbing and twisted around to see Wilta staring up at me. Something in her expression cut through the danger of this place and pierced my heart. I had already guessed at her true self, but nothing I had imagined about her, nothing I could imagine, came close to the realization that she was likely the most dangerous person I had ever known. Her words struck directly at my already wounded heart. “You’d better hope that I am not the Monarch. Because if I am, then once I have that treasure, I will bring you to your knees, begging for mercy, or for your own death. I know who you love most, who you share secrets with and who you don’t, and why. All I have to decide is where to begin. With a newfound brother? An adopted brother?” Her eyes narrowed. “Or do I begin with her?”

  “You will not touch any of them.” I’d intended to sound threatening but failed. The truth was that she had rattled me more than I wished to admit.

  “I know exactly how to hurt you, and I will, until your hurt becomes your destruction.” Her smile turned to ice. “I will do all of that, if I am the Monarch.”

  I could not remain here any longer. Though my heart was pounding and a pit had formed in my gut, I gripped the rope, then used the knife to cut myself free. With the square rock safely in the bag at my side, I began climbing.

  Once I climbed higher than the cave opening, Roden’s was the first face I saw, and it was nearly on fire with anger.

  “You left her down there?”

  I wound the rope around my body to hold my place. “Do you trust me, Roden?”

  He glared back. “As much as you trust me.”

  “Then do not pull her up. Wilta is the Monarch.”