“Fay, what are you doing here?”
“She saved my life.”
Keith nodded in respect. “Run to the plane now. It’s outside the castle ground. You can sneak from the southern gate.”
Fay nodded and started to run.
“Now find me some motherfuckers to kill,” Keith groaned.
Chapter 36
With sore legs and an aching head, Riley kept reminding herself that she could not stop. She was going to catch Jonathan and—
She stopped. For the first time in her life, her blood felt icy cold and the veins in her head about to explode. Holding herself against the damp black bricks, she took a deep breath. It did not matter how freezing the ground was. Riley took her shoes off and threw them away from her. There were blisters covering her feet. Her chest was tight that her heart almost broke out of her ribcage. A certain ringing in her head tore on her muscles. She finally held it in between her hands and groaned with pain.
"Finally found you," a voice said. The ringing stopped.
Riley lifted her now blurry eyes, and when two tears fell upon her reddened cheeks, she saw him. Jonathan folded his hands and smiled calmly.
"I was looking for you." She hardly stood straight.
"You just can't get enough of me, can you?" The king approached her. She tried to take a step back, but the wall entrapped her.
"I will not get enough of tearing every part of you to pieces." She gritted her teeth. Jonathan was merely inches away from her.
"Are you talking about my clothes or my heart? Because you succeeded with both." His expression turned sour.
"Whichever you choose. As long as you don't get out of this alive and well."
"You are so full of yourself, Red. This is your hamartia," he chuckled and rolled his eyes.
"Don't you start with the literature shit right now," she spat and pushed at his shoulders with whatever strength that was left in her. "You are going down, my king."
"Who do you think you are?!"
"The girl who ripped in between the thorns around your heart. And you know what I'm going to do with it, now that I've reached it?" Riley smirked, a mad look in her eyes. "I'm going rip every part of it and feed it to whomever shouts the name of the king with pride."
Jonathan glared at her intently. A deep line separated his brows, his shoulders hunched. He clenched his fists then suddenly they relaxed. The satisfied smile on Riley's face vanished.
Jonathan burst into laughter.
"Don't you think I feel you becoming heavier whenever I'm close to you? Don't you think I see how your eyes instantly shut when I breathe by your ear?" His voice turned into a hushed whisper against her earlobe.
Riley's fingers were becoming numb and her chest heaving with anguished sighs. She did not feel weak, nor the need to get closer to him. She only wanted everything to end as quickly as possible because seeing him suffer was equally satisfying as seeing him elated by her in bed.
"True. I get weak sometimes… But this longing for your presence has turned into a craving to see you dead, Jonathan."
"Only words." The hot air against her neck let the fine hair on her skin rise.
Riley lifted her hand to push him back. He gripped it tightly, his fingers reddening it.
"I can't keep your smile out of my mind," Jonathan sighed and looked down. "You're the last person I think of before I sleep, Red. Tell me that those nights together meant something."
Riley swallowed. There was a war waging right above their heads. And there she was standing with her lover underground, feeling his heartbeat against the hand he gripped. She looked down wanting to believe what he was saying. And as much as it pained her to betray her king, her lover, the one she had loved, she had a duty to her country, and she could not surrender.
"My king…"
"Say my name… Please." He shut his eyes painfully, his lips turning into a thin line.
"Jonathan…" Her voice broke. His heartbeats quickened. "Back out. Let your brother take your place. I have no interest in getting to the power. We could get away, be together without all of this."
She knew this had the chance of working as much as having the East reach Utopia. She had to try… It was a wish… But it could work if he truly felt something for her.
"Oh, Riley…" Jonathan's nose brushed against hers, their lips inches apart. As if it were the first time they kissed, Riley's legs almost failed to hold her as she laid her weight upon his shoulders.
She slightly opened her lips ready to welcome the kiss that would seal everything.
The moment his lips touched hers, the same sharp pain that hit her before struck her entire body. Her legs didn't seem to touch the ground anymore until she opened her eyes and pushed herself away from him. He did not look so peaceful anymore with the rays of sunlight igniting his sharp features.
Riley looked around her. The pain grew fainter, although it was still swimming through her muscles and veins. They were both standing in the Royal Garden. The castle was perfectly fine without any fallen brick or fire burning whomever stood in its way.
"How—" She looked around then at the king. He was smiling devilishly, ready to strike her. Riley stumbled back, reality finally dawning. Well… not exactly reality. Jonathan was in her mind. She did not know how he did it. It seemed that their minds connected and he was making her see whatever he wanted her to see.
"I should've activated my powers long ago. Having a trickster mum finally came in handy." He approached her triumphantly. "Do you realise what a trickster king can do?! I'll fucking rule the world. And you, Red… Oh, you… you will suffer."
Before Riley could utter anything, his hand flew to her forehead. She fell into an ocean of darkness and her body floated into the unknown.
Riley tried to speak, even scream. No words came out.
Suddenly she was on her feet again. She was not in a dress anymore, nor any normal outfit. She was in the middle of clouds of dust. She looked down at her hands. There was a large gun that she knew not its name. The navy blue and red colours of her outfit scared her. There was gunfire everywhere.
"Riley, shoot!" a man said to her left.
She turned, gripping the gun tightly and saw Mathew crouching down and firing at the enemy in front of them. They were standing in the front line.
"Mathew!" Riley screamed.
A bullet exploded in his forehead. His eyes were open and void, his mouth slightly parted with blood trickling down the corner of his lips. His body was twitching at first. Seconds after his soul gave out, he lied motionless on the sandy ground.
Riley fell to her knees, her heart exploding along with her fellow soldiers. She couldn't believe her eyes. For a moment, she thought it was all real. For a moment, she believed that she was fighting on the actual battlefield and lost her best friend, her brother.
Holding him against her chest, she started wailing his loss.
"This is not real… This is not real…" Riley closed her eyes.
Focus. Focus. It's all in your head.
Riley had never gone into a mental battle against another trickster. She had to break herself free from Jonathan's control somehow.
This is all an illusion.
The weight in her hand was getting lighter and soon she was hugging the air. Mathew slowly faded with the dust. The gunfire was turning into a sullen silence. Riley stood behind Jonathan now. His back was facing her, and he was facing his father in his own chamber.
"Father?" He frowned.
Jonathan stepped back and stood still. The chamber smelled of musk. It was dim, and the red chandelier lit his father's wide eyes.
"Jonathan…" he whispered.
Jonathan wanted to turn around and erase the image from his head. He wanted to get hold of Riley and make her suffer for her treason. He was unable to get a grip on his thoughts as they were spiralling out of his control.
"I am so sorry…" King Christopher spoke. His beard was stinking of alcohol and his bathroom half open. There was someth
ing that was holding Jonathan in place and forbidding him from rescuing his father.
Suddenly, a dagger materialized from under King Christopher's sleeve and fell into his palm.
Jonathan remained silent. Whatever he was going to say was to no avail, because his father was not real. Nothing would change what Riley had planned for. With a painful shrug, he fought to close his eyes, but that was in vain as well. The blackness of the skies suffocated him. He would not budge, but his fists clenched, and the veins almost burst out.
"I have failed this country. I have failed the East. And I must pay for my failures," King Christopher said under his ragged breaths.
As if the king was in a movie played in slow motion, he lifted his arm and slowly cut his own throat. Blood curled down his bare chest. The bloody dagger fell to the ground. It did not land. Horrified, Jonathan looked down at his own hand clenching it. His deep-throated scream thudded in the room shifting Riley to the back. It was a shriek of anger, of despair.
Riley fell to the ground then rubbed the back of her head, her vision blurring. Her heart felt heavy and her eyes were drooping with weariness. She was in the main hall of the second tower. The throne of the king at the end, high and laden with gold and red rubies. Two skulls hung from the velvet wall and one that Riley had never seen at the crest of the chair. Jonathan rested against the blood-coloured cushions of the throne. He was not wearing his crown, but he was waiting for someone.
"Bow for me… your king." He looked into Riley's eyes. She was wearing the wine-red dress she wore one the day of the first feast they attended together.
"I bow to no one." She gritted her teeth.
Jonathan snickered and rolled his dark blue eyes.
"You did before. I don't think it was different when I had you on your knees."
Riley's cheeks reddened with anger. She approached him, took a deep breath, and spat at his shoulder.
"Mm." Jonathan was impressed. "Very brave for someone whose life's at stake." He lazily wiped the spit and looked behind her.
Before she could turn around, Riley felt something sharp press against the bottom of her back.
"Oh, Riley," a man whispered against her ear. "You are so naïve."
"Gabriel," she said under her breath, her chest heaving up and down.
Gabriel forced her up the dais of the throne.
"Take the crown and announce him your king," he ordered her. With his free hand, he slipped the pointy golden crown into her hand.
"He is the king of shit. I have no king." She did not move her eyes away from Jonathan's. They were insipid and leaden with hatred, unlike how they were when they had shared one bed, one heart, one body, one breath…
Something inside of her was breaking. Her heart was getting gaunter the more she looked at him. The moment she felt the knife pierce into her back, flashes of her parents dying and screaming for their lives covered her vision, and her heart was swollen with revenge and sorrow.
I was a fool for him. No more. Mother… Father… You are what matters no… Mother… Father… Mother… Father…
The floor began trembling. The chandeliers were quaking until diamonds broke on the floor. Jonathan looked around, suddenly alarmed.
"What are you doing?"
Nothing had changed, except for Gabriel’s disappearance. Riley broke free and took a step back taking Jonathan in with mad eyes.
"You are so full of yourself, Jonathan. If your father was unable to control you, and I was too weak for you…"
"I am the king and no one will ever—" He was rising from his throne until he saw her.
Jonathan fell back down, his legs failing him. He struggled to huddle his strength back together, but her presence was stronger than anything. He saw his angels capering around her as she walked closer in her long cape. It was the same one in the photograph… Odd… He was not the one making her materialise. He was unable to do anything. He was numb.
"Mother…" His voice quivered.
"Jonathan." She smiled and walked closer to him.
When she was merely inches away from him on the dais, he slid down the throne and fell to his knees. A soft breeze blustered through the open large windows and brought with it the sweet scent of her western fragrance. Her large blue eyes blinked as she knelt down before him as well and watched his tears stream down his cheeks.
Riley remained silent and watched without moving. Her focus was on the woman.
"John… you look a lot more like me than your father." She stroked his hair. He closed his eyes and felt her hand go over his lids, his nose, his lips…
“Y-You're not real,” he said in a low voice. He tried to shut his eyes, but they were bulging open to savour every moment of her full figure.
"I’ve missed you." She kissed his first cheek. "I’ve watched you every day." She kissed his second cheek. "I've wanted to hold you since you were a child." She kissed his forehead.
"You are not—" He was about to say real, but the word escaped him when his mother lifted his chin up and forced him to look at her. She was beautiful.
"I've wanted to know you for a long time… I wished you were there every day."
"Have you, now?" She smiled gently.
"I have, mother." He swallowed the painful gulp forming in his throat. "I've dreamt about you every night. And ever since father gave me your photograph, I've—"
"Been looking for the truth?"
"Well…" He looked down in shame. "I did try b—"
"You did not try, John." Her smile was disappearing. She slid her hand from his chin to her own lap. "You did not look for the truth that killed me. The only effort you made was to create another version of me out of thin air."
"I did avenge your death! I killed the queen!"
His mother tilted her head still watching him. The corner of her lips twitched.
"Pitiful," she whispered then stood up and left him helpless on the ground.
"W-What?" He frowned, his eyes narrowing through the tears. The sky was as dim as it was when he was watching his father slit his own throat, and it was starting to rain.
Jonathan helped himself up to his feet and laid his weight on the throne.
"You lived your life like those stone statues in Regitum Square, blocking all feelings, killing every living human you saw in the war," she sneered. Her gentle features turned harsh, a disappointed angry mother.
"I did not! I was trained to go to war since I was a child. And I bet father wanted me dead there so he wouldn’t have to choose between his rightful heir and his bastard to mount the throne!" His voice was rising.
"And he should have chosen Gabriel. He is no son of mine, but he deserves that throne more than you ever have or will." She looked at him up and down with distance and coldness in her eyes.
"This is not the real you talking…" Something inside of him forced him to succumb to his mother's presence and stop fighting it. Pain was swimming through his veins and a mild dizziness took over him.
"You cannot deny what I’m saying. If you really wanted to avenge my death, you would have done it a long time ago. I left hints everywhere you went, Jonathan. But you are always blinded by your ego to see further than what is obvious." His mother turned to look at Riley then at him. "She would have helped you become a great king… You are unredeemable. I am very disappointed in you, son," she scoffed.
Jonathan's heart was torn apart. It was taking its own life. His head was about to explode, and his sweaty hands were shaking.
"It's you." He turned to Riley.
"It is not her. It's you!" his mother screamed. "Be a man! A true man that is not afraid of his own shadow and so kills everything in sight. You are afraid of love, and love will always be afraid of you."
"Stop making her say this!"
"You always knew she would say this, my king." Riley smirked. "Deep down… you knew she would come to you with those words. That's why you couldn't create her out of thin air. A part of you did not want your mother to see your failures."
"You are wrong…" He relaxed back and sank lazily on his throne calming down.
With a little more effort, a loaded gun was forming in Riley’s hands.
Wind was gusting through the trees and thunder irradiated the dim sky. With every strike of electricity, the blue colour of the storm illumined the king's face.
Rage and fury nourished Riley's thirst for revenge. She wanted to press the trigger and end that dictator's miserable life, that horrible being who was oppressing her people. She wanted to watch the bullet slice through his forehead and drain the life out of him. She wanted to carry out the plan and get the chance to watch him beg for mercy. He had been fooling her and using her body for his own selfish purposes while her people starved to death.
For a while, all she was thinking of was that moment. But as he observed her shake with fear and hesitate, he gave her his sinister smile.
He knew she would be too weak to commit murder, especially that of her king. And even though he had turned her life into a living hell, she was not capable of becoming a criminal, a fugitive, just to get her revenge on an archenemy.
"You have always been and always will be weak, Red."
His voice was a lullaby to her ears. It was like a soft hymn putting her to sleep. Yet… she dedicated her life for rebellion and freedom. She was not backing out now. Her finger worked against the trigger, as a loud roar erupted in the large hall.
It was not Riley.
With wide eyes, Jonathan looked at his mother pointing the gun at his face. He felt the imaginary bullet go through his forehead and burst from the back. Riley and his mother’s figures were slowly dispersing. His scream was muted, and everything around him was turning into a slow tornado of blackness. The dizziness pained him like a strike of lightning. His body felt as if it were floating, and he could not see where the wind was taking him.
Droplets of dampness fell from the underground’s ceiling. They slid down Riley’s eyes, waking her from a terrible nightmare. Suddenly, a loud scream awoke her. She opened her eyes and froze. Jonathan was lying on the ground covering his eyes and screaming.
Red Circus Page 30