Crown of Sunlight

by Payton Taylor

  When they eventually cleared the forest, they were well outside the city. Westin drove them down a tiny back road that led to a clearing hidden between two hills.

  Waiting in the clearing was Westin’s trysk. She hadn't been sure what to expect, but it hadn't been a sleek triangular aircraft that looked more space ship than airplane. It was smaller than she’d thought it would be, though still big enough to walk around and hold at least five passengers. The shiny, black metal gleamed in the moonlight.

  She and Westin climbed out of the transport and she resumed tying knots in her hair while Westin fiddled with something on the dash. When he withdrew and closed the door, the transport raised itself off the ground and turned, heading back the way they had come.

  Westin headed toward the trysk, but stopped and looked back at Sunny when he realized she was still gaping at where the transport had disappeared over a hill.

  “All transports have a homing beacon that enables them to return home without a driver," Westin explained.

  Neat trick , Sunny thought.

  She turned and followed him to the trysk. As they drew near, she realized it was much bigger than she had originally thought. Westin brought out his contact and tapped in a few commands. The trysk's door slid open, and a small set of stairs descended for them to climb.

  Where the exterior was shiny and black, the interior was all beige leather. Sunny waited as Westin walked to the front and began pushing buttons.

  He looked back at her, “You may want to sit down,” he said when he noticed she was still standing.

  As the engine hummed to life, startlingly quiet, Sunny quickly sat and strapped on the seat belt. The trysk lifted off the ground, gaining altitude quickly, no runway needed. A moment later they were speeding through the night sky, though from where Sunny sat she felt as if she weren’t moving at all.

  Sunny dropped her head in her hands. She knew her head should still ache, but she barely felt it. A numbness had taken over her body, yet her mind was running a million miles a minute.

  Westin's movement made her look up and she saw that he was carrying something that looked like a first aid kit, and staring at her intently.

  He came forward and knelt in front of her. "May I take a look at your injury?" he asked quietly.

  For some reason, the soft way he said it made Sunny want to cry some more. She tried to hide her quivering lip, but his eyes tracked the movement. She gave a curt nod before looking away. She didn't want to cry in front of him anymore.

  There was a gentle probing on her head where the wound was. “This might sting a little,” Westin said before dabbing the wound with a damp cloth. “It’s a good sign that the bleeding stopped.

  Besides having a headache, is there anything else that doesn’t feel right? Any trouble breathing?”

  When she shook her head, he reached for her hands to help her stand. Some people had trouble standing or moving a limb after a head injury, according to Westin.

  After she showed him she could stand, and move her arms and legs just fine, he helped her sit back down. He took out a flashlight and looked relieved when her pupils were normal size.

  Sunny wasn't used to being taken care of, especially not with such care. She wouldn't allow herself to get used to the feeling. She grabbed his hands and pulled them away from her head. "I'm okay," her voice was hoarse from all the crying earlier. "Thank you."

  Though on the outside he appeared calm, she could sense his inner turmoil. Every time his eyes skimmed over her injury, she felt his guilt and concern as if it was her own.

  He didn't like seeing her hurt.

  His gaze was unnerving, studying. Sunny felt as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  She cleared her throat. "Tell me everything." So he did.

  Westin told Sunny that king Azmodeous was Master Dubois and that he was Jo's actual father.

  She and Jo were only half-sisters. She tried to let that sink in.

  "That's how I know he won't kill her. I won’t lie to you and say he’ll treat her like a father should, but the king needs her. For now, she'll be okay. She'll be alive."

  He continued to tell her that the king had initially planned to kidnap the both of them, but then they'd had the ball, and everyone knew Sunny was the heir to the throne. If the king would've abducted her as well, it would have been an act of war.

  .

  When he was finished, Sunny sat, numb. King Azmodeous, the evil king, was Jo's father

  It was hard to wrap her head around, but. . .it made sense. Jo never looked much like Sunny or their mother. There was no resemblance to Silvius whatsoever.

  Poor Jo , Sunny thought. I'll be there soon.

  She wished she could send the thought to her sister.

  "He knows you'll come." "What?"

  "The king. I hate saying it, but he's smart, cunning. He's planning something big. He kidnapped Jo tonight, but he wanted you too. I saw it. . .the way he looked at you." He clenched his jaw. "He knew if he captured Jo, he wouldn't even have to kidnap you because you'd come for her all on your own."

  Sunny stared at him. Did he think that would make her back down? Like she would just leave Jo behind.

  "I can't—" Sunny started.

  Westin put his hands up. "I know, I know," he said and looked away. Then his gaze locked back on Sunny's. "This is why you need me," he said quietly.

  Though she would never admit it, he was right. She couldn’t just prance into the evil king’s palace and rescue her sister alone. She needed his help.

  Westin stood and walked back to the front of the plane, pulled some sort of lever, and the plane started to descend. He looked back at Sunny.

  “Welcome to Ettria.”

  Chapter 24

  Leo

  Writhia, 5219

  Ettria

  Leo put his contact back into his pocket. It was Airoldi, wanting him to “keep an eye on the princess” as if he wasn’t already there, doing just that.

  The general was working with the blonde sister to get her out, playing directly into the king’s hands. Leo had pointed this out, but the general seemed aware that his plan was idiotic. Honestly, Leo hoped they succeeded. The king didn't need any more power than he already had.

  At least Airoldi had offered to pay him to keep an eye on the younger sister when he wasn’t there. Not in money—Leo had plenty of that—but in secrets. Juicy information on the military leaders Westin had connections with.

  Leo wondered why the general was willing to help the older sister. His mind flashed on Airoldi’s smile and the close way the two had danced at the ball. The way he hadn’t seemed to be able to take his eyes off her. Leo had a pretty good idea of why he was willing to risk it all for a pretty face.

  A commotion erupted in the great hall and Leo looked up to see the king enter, two soldiers trailing him, escorting his daughter between them. The princess, knowing she wasn’t a physical match for the guards, wasn’t struggling. Judging from the strained expression on her face, however, he could tell she was fighting against the king in her mind, but without any success.

  Leo wished he could tell her not to bother.

  The Quellers that the king kept throughout the palace had orders to dampen the abilities of everyone but the king. Even his guards were forced to rely mostly on their physical skills to protect the castle. The king only allowed them access to their Gifts in an emergency.

  Leo could feel the effects of the Quellers himself. It was always worse when he got back from the outside where nothing was holding him back. Over the years, Leo had built up a small resistance in order to stay invisible while he watched the king. It took its toll, though, and he always needed a long nap afterward.

  As the king and princess entered through the front, Cerise came sweeping in through the back.

  The sickly-sweet scent of her perfume clung to her, leaving the heavy scent to trail in her wake. Leo hated that smell. It left the impression of darkness and grasping hands and the choking sensatio
n of being tied down, unable to move.

  If the king was cruel, his second-in- command was crueler.

  “My King, I am pleased to see your mission was a success.” Her blood-red lips curled into a smile as she floated forward, wisps of her black silk dress floating around her like living shadows.

  Princess Josephine stiffened as Cerise drew near, too close for comfort, and peered up at her.

  Though Cerise was almost a head shorter than the princess, she still somehow managed to look down her nose at the girl.

  “I thought this powerful mystery girl would be more impressive,” she said with a sniff.

  To Leo’s surprise, the princess met her gaze without flinching.

  The king's pleasant mask shifted slightly as he turned to take in the princess’ ruined gown and pale skin, her hair an abundance of curls that were escaping their braid around her head.

  Leo hated to admit that Cerise was right, the girl didn’t look like the powerful Murmur the king had painted her to be to his court. Leo knew, though, the power that lay within her. He had seen it with his own eyes, had felt it probing within his mind.

  Josephine fidgeted under Cerise’s scrutiny, but the king put his haughty mask back in place.

  “She is new to her Gift,” he told Cerise, his voice cold. “Besides, she will have plenty of time to train to become the most powerful Murmur Writhia has ever seen, not to mention its most powerful queen.”

  Cerise balked, “Queen? You plan to marry this?” She gestured vaguely toward the princess as if she was a speck of mud.

  When he spoke, Azmodeous’ voice was dangerously low. “I would suggest using a more respectful tone when addressing the heir to the Ettrian throne.”

  Cerise gasped, her eyes going back and forth between the king and his new heir, noting the similarities. Leo couldn’t help but chuckle at her dumbfounded expression.

  The king glanced at Leo at the sound, as if just realizing he was there. He didn’t seem to appreciate Leo’s presence.

  Heavier, though, than the king’s gaze was that of the princess. Her blue eyes landed on him and he swore he could feel their weight as recognition lit her features when she remembered him from the ball. Her expression remained blank, but Leo could feel her contempt for the people in that room radiating from her like the stinging cold of a glacier.

  The king disregarded him after a moment, turning back to his second-in-command. “Yes, Josephine is my daughter and the future queen of Ettria, and you would be wise to treat her as such, Cerise.”

  Cerise’s expression tightened at the reprimand, but an odd glimmer shone in her pale green eyes. Leo could already see the wheels turning in that dark head of hers.

  Meanwhile, Josephine’s already pale face went even whiter at the mention of becoming queen. She must have been in seven different types of shock after a night like tonight. But as long as she was the king’s daughter, Leo supposed that meant Azmodeous wouldn’t hurt her. Much. Which was good, because that made Leo’s job of looking after her slightly easier.

  The king turned to the guards who still had tight grips on the princess’ arms, as if she’d try to run the moment they let go. Maybe she had.

  “Take her to her private rooms. You remember what we discussed earlier,” the king told them.

  Leo had overheard that discussion and knew the king planned on keeping the princess contained in a suite, guarded day and night with a Queller on hand to suppress her Gift.

  The guards began leading her down the hall, the king watching them go. Leo made to follow them and had to keep himself from flinching as he felt Cerise draw up behind him. Unable to stand her presence behind him, he stopped to let her pass.

  As she passed, Cerise smiled her wicked smile and lifted her hand to gently caress his cheek with black, razor-sharp nails. His body went rigid as he was brought back to another time her claw-like nails had grazed his skin.

  She walked away and he waited until she was fully out of sight before he let out a shuddering breath. He waited a moment before following after the guarded princess.

  Invisibly, of course.

  Chapter 25

  Jo

  Writhia, 5219

  Ettria

  Jo had been pacing the same room for four days straight.

  The Ettrian palace was nothing like the Viannese royal home. Where her grandmother’s palace was warm and bright, Azmodeous’ kingdom was cooler, the weather ever changing. It reminded her of home.

  Jo paused in her pacing.

  I guess Asteria isn’t actually my grandmother , she thought.

  No wonder the queen had looked at her with distrust. She must have sensed somehow that Jo wasn’t who she thought she was. Instead, Jo was back to being clueless about her identity.

  While in Vianna, she’d thought she was starting to figure it out, to become the person she was supposed to be: the princess of a bright, sunny kingdom, Gifted with magical abilities that made her special.

  Powerful.

  She wanted to slap herself.

  What sort of childish hope was that? Sure, she had been planning on leaving, on finding a way back home, but it was the knowledge that had helped. It was a secret that would have helped her, a secret that would have gotten her through the rough days. She was a princess, capable of destroying minds with a single thought. It was a bit of a confidence booster.

  And she had been so sure. So confident that she and Sunny would get away. That they would find their way back home, smarter and stronger than they had been before. She had faced so many trials, and she had survived them all.

  But she had been taken, beaten at her own game by someone who was stronger and much more ruthless.

  And he was her father.

  Jo wanted to deny it. She wanted to look into the face of this foreign king and laugh, amused by such an absurd thought. As if her mother would have lied to her. As if she and Sunny were only half-sisters with different fathers.

  But she couldn’t deny it. When she looked into the face of the man who had taken her, it was her own face that looked back at her. And the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. Her mother had never lied to her. You look like your father, Eleyna had told her. But she had never claimed that Jo’s father was the same man as Sunny’s.

  Jo had simply assumed.

  Asteria had shown her a picture of her husband, Sunny’s grandfather, and Jo had seen the similarities. But those similarities paled in comparison to how much Jo favored Azmodeous. It was more than looks. Jo had watched him during her time there, looking for any indication that he was lying. But he even moved like Jo, held his shoulders at the same stiff angle, spoke with the same soft voice.

  And she hated it.

  Because he was not a good man. While she watched him, she saw the way his servants cowered, the way his guard’s eyes glazed over with his control. Azmodeous was more than the king of Ettria. He was its puppet master, controlling everyone and everything around him.

  Marzanna had said something was off there, but “off” didn’t begin to cover it. Maybe it wasn’t as obvious outside the castle, maybe it was just because she was a Murmur, but Jo could feel it, the wrongness. It soaked into everything around her until she wasn’t sure what was real.

  Jo flung herself onto the couch in her suite.

  Her suite. It was almost laughable.

  The king—she refused to call him her father—had removed her blindfold when they had reached the Ettrian capital of Selonia. She had been surprised to find they were surrounded by mountains. The city was located in the foothills with tall, skyscraper-like buildings competing with the huge pine trees around them for height.

  They skirted around the city and in the darkness she could only see its bright lights in the distance. The pale white castle itself was perched on the side of a mountain, its tall spires reaching high enough to touch the stars.

  The outside had been clean and pristine, but the inside was dark and cold and impersonal. The gardens were full of jewel-colore
d flowers, which she was told bloomed year-round, even in the snow. The interior held sleek furniture in stark black and white that was uncomfortable to sit on. Jo was beginning to think the castle was a representation of its master.

  Her room, nice as it was, was still a prison. It was a true princess suite, three large rooms meant only for her. The rooms all had white walls with a black damask design, with white marble floors and dark gray rugs strewn about. The sitting room had modern black furniture, but it was actually comfortable, as if the king wanted her to be at ease. There were a sofa and two chairs with a coffee table in the center. She guessed people in Ettria aimed

  their furniture at the TV—or the telecast, as she'd heard some say—as well because there was a large screen on the wall opposite the sofa. The marble floor was inlaid with black tiles in the shape of a crescent moon. The ceiling had a large circular skylight with the phases of the moon painted in intricate detail around it.

  The bedroom had a giant, circular bed with black sheets and a gray blanket set close to the floor, white gossamer curtains falling around it from the ceiling. Similar to Vianna, there was a mammoth-sized jacuzzi set into the floor in the corner of the room. The bathroom had a shower head that made water fall from the ceiling like rain. Doors in the bedroom led to a balcony that overlooked the mountains and reminded Jo that they were hundreds of feet in the air. When she went outside to stand on it, she could hear the distant rushing of a waterfall.

  But as comfortable as the rooms were, Jo hadn’t been allowed to leave, and no one had come to see her except a single overly cheerful maid who brought her three meals a day and kept everything clean. The king must have had a Queller there, because Jo couldn’t access her Gift at all, no matter how hard she tried. She'd concentrated until she was blue in the face and nothing had happened.

  Jo was already starting to feel the effects of being cooped up. Being trapped indoors with nothing to do had never been good for her state of mind.

  She wondered what Sunny must be thinking right then. She must be worried sick.