Was the boy recalling the hands that grabbed him and threw him over the battlements? Could he feel the terror of nothingness as his hands clutched the stone—as he held on for his life?
“Not everyone is happy to have me as King of Eden.”
“But you are King. They can’t do nothing ’bout that.”
“Some people think they can. I need your help to stop them.”
Max’s little face grew fierce. “What do you need me to do?”
After everything Andreus had done, he knew he didn’t deserve such loyalty.
When he had awakened, alive, from the curse’s attack, Andreus held the scrap of parchment his sister had left for him and considered what his twin would do to find the answers he sought. Carys was not patient. She would not wait for the traitors to reveal themselves. Instead, she would create her own web and watch whoever was lurking in the shadows walk into it.
Which is what he decided he would do. And after all he had learned, he knew what to bait his trap with. The orb.
His sister had questioned the sabotage to the lights—and whether it was part of a larger plot—from the first. Almost immediately after his sister and he talked about her concerns, his father’s and brother’s bodies were dumped atop the entrance steps of the palace. Another night atop the battlements, Max had spotted people lurking in the shadows, and discovered the meeting of the Masters of Light. Moments after he spoke of that to Andreus, Max was thrown over the battlement walls. Add to that the fact that Andreus had commanded the orb be darkened, yet someone had convinced the Masters to disobey his wishes. The orb still shined because the orb wasn’t just a symbol to those who were attempting to betray Eden. Andreus now realized that to them the orb was a beacon.
Perched high above the ground on the tallest tower, its light could be seen for miles on a clear night. It was a fixed point—like the stars—and was used to help navigate a traveler to safety.
Or to lead an attacking force across miles and miles to war.
Andreus crossed to the ornately carved King’s desk and took two notes off the top. He handed the first to Max. “Give this order to whatever captain is in charge at the gates today.” Andreus had commanded Graylem to avoid his chambers while he was recovering from his illness. Had the guard been seen, he might have aroused the suspicions of the Council. The Council had too many informers within the palace walls waiting for the chance to gain rewards for whatever information they gathered. “Once the captain gives Graylem his new orders, follow him and let him know I will require his assistance on the battlements.”
Max took the first paper and gave a solemn nod.
“And then . . .” Andreus picked up the second piece of folded parchment marked by the golden wax seal of the Throne of Light. “I need you to deliver this to Master Triden.” He was the one Master Andreus believed could be trusted. Andreus hoped he was not wrong in that faith. “Go with him. When he has finished the task I requested, come to the Hall of Virtues so I know it has been done.” And that the trap was ready to be sprung.
“Max,” Andreus said, stooping down to look the boy in the eye. “If you think you’ve drawn someone’s suspicion, don’t wait around to make sure. Run and hide.”
“Should Graylem run, too?”
“Graylem is too big to duck into wardrobes.” Before Max could come up with another query, Andreus said, “I will be meeting with the Council of Elders soon, so you have to move fast. First Graylem, then the Masters, then to the Hall of Virtues.”
Max half bowed and bolted for the door before Andreus could warn him to be careful. He would just have to trust that the survival instincts Max learned on the streets of Garden City would keep the boy out of trouble.
He called his attendant to help him dress even though he would have preferred to be alone. With his valet’s assistance, it took little time to get ready, although Andreus’s heart beat harder to mark the passage of each second. Black fitted trousers. Polished black boots. Silk golden-yellow shirt and a deep-blue velvet vest trimmed to match the shirt. As his valet handed him the sword to buckle around his waist, he found himself wishing he could appear in the Hall in a mail shirt without raising suspicions. When his valet was reaching for the fur-lined robe, Andreus quickly slid two bejeweled daggers into the belt at the small of his back. Just in case.
Once the robe was slung over his shoulders and fastened, Andreus turned toward the full-length silver mirror and reached for the heavy woven gold-and-sapphire crown. Carefully, he placed the crown on his head, thinking of all the times his father had done the same thing and of how Micah should have been standing here had he not betrayed their father, or been betrayed by someone he believed was standing by his side. It struck Andreus that he had only come to stand in this exact spot, preparing to sit on a throne that represented light in a hall that celebrated seven virtues, because he, too, was willing to betray.
Andreus stared at his reflection, marveling at how almost nothing had changed about his appearance. Same dark hair. Same chin and forehead. Only one thing was different, and he was counting on the Council of Elders never noticing it. He felt regret. He felt a calling—a duty to make things right. To restore the seven virtues for his kingdom and to once again bring light to the people of Eden.
He nodded for the guards stationed outside the King’s rooms to flank him as he strode toward the Hall. Had Max made it to the Masters yet? How fast could the boy track down the young guard who Andreus was trusting with so much?
The torches burned bright as he approached the two-story-tall, massive gold doors that led into the Hall of Virtues.
The throne gleamed. The seven members of the Council of Elders, dressed in black robes, stood at the bottom of the dais, each studying him with various expressions of concern, consternation, or disapproval on their faces as he approached.
Elder Cestrum strode forward, the missive Andreus had sent to the Council for this meeting clutched in his clawed metal hand.
The voice of the imprisoned woman rang in his head.
Iron for blood. Iron for heart. Clawing for summer when winter does start.
Was Elder Cestrum the one behind the treachery? Andreus wondered as he stared at the claw. Or was it one of the others who looked to unseat him?
“It is good to see you up and around, Your Majesty.” Elder Cestrum nodded. “Your illness caused a great deal of concern in Garden City, and, as we have reported, we have done our best to make sure everyone believes the throne and thus the kingdom are completely secure.”
“The throne is absolutely secure,” Andreus said. He walked by the Elders and deliberately climbed the steps to his place in front of the throne. “And now that I have recovered, I require news of the petitions you heard in my absence.”
“Surely, there is no need to bother you with minor matters.” Elder Jacobs stepped forward. “After all, you have already been updated on the condition of the lights. The rest of the items are things your father found little interest in and trusted the Council to handle when he could not.”
“I am not my father,” Andreus said, taking a seat on the throne. He looked down at the men standing on the ground beneath him and insisted, “And I am interested in everything that happens in my kingdom.”
The Council members glanced at one another. Elder Ulrich turned his one eye on Andreus and smiled. “We shall be sure to remember that, Your Majesty.”
It was clear to Andreus that the members of the Council of Elders thought he would grow bored with the petitions quickly. Perhaps on any other day he would have. But he needed to keep the Council occupied and away from their informants until the final pieces of his trap were set. So he pushed the Council to discuss requests from lords and ladies for additional guards to protect them, from women who came to see if there was word of their son’s or husband’s fate on the battlefields to the south. He demanded more detail, questioned decisions, and watched the Council chafe at being forced to stand as additional torches were lit and night began to fall.
Finally, as Elder Jacobs spoke of the Council’s concern over the need for more guardsmen, Andreus spotted Max at the edge of the main entrance of the Hall. He met Max’s eyes across the wide space, then nodded ever so slightly to acknowledge the unspoken message.
The trap was set. It was time to add the bait.
“When Captain Monteros returns to Garden City with the new seer,” Elder Jacobs explained, “he will train new . . .”
“I’m sure he will.” Andreus stood. One by one, he studied the faces below him. “And I appreciate you doing what you feel is necessary for the Kingdom of Eden and Garden City when I fell ill. While I am certain you made choices my father would have approved of, my father is no longer King. I am the King of Eden now, and my orders will be followed.”
“Your Majesty,” Elder Cestrum said quickly, “we don’t . . .”
“You have made your arguments. You have schemed and exerted your influence on the Masters to disobey their King. To disobey me. No more!”
Confusion and insult filled their faces as Andreus stepped to the edge of the dais and looked down on the Elders. None of them understood they were seeing the real Andreus now.
“The city is being alerted that I will speak to them after darkness is fully upon us. I expect all of you to stand with me when I demonstrate to the court, the guard, and those in the city that not only have I recovered from my brief illness, but also that I am the one who is in charge of this kingdom. I am King, and I will do whatever is required to keep my people safe. Because, as of tonight, the orb of Eden will no longer shine in the sky.”
He strode down the stairs and past the gaping Elders. Elder Cestrum asked for him to reconsider, but Andreus didn’t stop. He crossed the room, headed out the door, and then hurried down the hall to meet Graylem atop the battlements. He had to be in position before the traitor arrived.
Whoever was plotting against him would try to subvert his order. If Andreus was correct, the traitor needed the light to help guide the Bastian forces to Eden under the cover of darkness. And in the desperate attempt to keep his treacherous plan from falling apart, the man who had worked with Imogen to take his crown would unmask himself. Once that happened, Andreus would expose the traitor to the city and end the plot once and for all.
He drew his sword when he reached the top of the tower stairs that led to the battlements. Then he pushed open the door, stepped into the gently falling snow, and hurried across the battlements to the alcove nearest the tall tower, where Graylem was waiting.
“Has anyone come yet?” He slipped beside the guard and squinted into the early night.
“Not since the sun began to fade, Your Majesty.”
“It won’t be long,” Andreus said quietly. “Keep your eyes open. I need you to be able to swear to what you will witness in front of the Council, the court, and the city.” As he was a sworn member of the guard, Graylem’s words and his earnest manner would resonate with everyone in the city. Andreus would have the man seized, proclaim the man a traitor, and perform the execution himself.
“The orb is already dark!” an unfamiliar voice called.
Three shadows appeared in the falling snow, all with their hoods up and their backs to him.
“The Masters must have done the work before the King announced his decision.”
“Or he did it himself.” Another man appeared, and Graylem sucked in air beside him as Elder Ulrich pushed aside his hood and looked up at the tower with his one good eye. “And now Andreus plans to tell the kingdom what he did because he wants them to think he’s a good King. Well, he will only be King for so long.”
Graylem reached for the hilt of his sword. Andreus placed a hand on the guard’s arm and a finger to his lips as Elder Ulrich paced toward them. If the Elder looked at the snowy ground, he would see their boot imprints that were slowly filling with snow.
Ulrich turned back as his men said something that was muffled by a lone creak of the windmill above. The blades were barely turning, which was the only reason Andreus could make out another asking if there would be a delay and something about riding out.
“No.” Elder Ulrich’s voice rang clear, and Andreus held his breath as the Elder strode closer to their position. “Tell our men to take the watch at the southern gates.”
Their men. How many men did Ulrich command?
“Then someone find our Master friend so he can get the orb to shine. After all these years, the Bastian King is ready to return, and I will not keep him waiting.”
Elder Ulrich looked up at the orb, then turned and headed to the stairway with his men at his heels.
“Follow Lord Ulrich’s men,” Andreus hissed.
“But, Your Majesty, you said . . .”
“Plans change.”
Elder Ulrich had sprung Andreus’s trap, but unless Andreus could make sure all the traitors working with him were caught as well, the threat from inside would continue. The guard within the walls was not powerful enough to take on an attacking army that was being helped from the inside. “Find out who they are and who else they are meeting with.”
Graylem nodded and followed discreetly in the snowy footsteps of Elder Ulrich and his men. Andreus waited out of view for several minutes, then sheathed his sword and strode to the closest stairwell to get out of the snow.
Frustration and anger simmered, and beneath both he felt a sense of helplessness.
Most would think that foolish. After all, he was King!
Yet he was a king who could not trust the allegiance of those in Eden’s guard or the loyalty of the Council of Elders. Without those, the crown’s effectiveness was diminished.
If he was to succeed, he needed the people of the kingdom on his side. The people had power. He had lost their admiration to Carys during the Trials of Virtuous Succession, but if they saw him as the King they needed him to be, he could gain it back. He wasn’t sure they would fight on his behalf if the army appeared at the gates, but maybe he could convince them to fight for themselves, their neighbors, and all of Eden.
Andreus strode through the torchlit halls of the palace determined to find the right words to bring Garden City to his side. Snow still fell as he stepped into the courtyard. Members of the court were speaking in small groups or walking toward the entrance. He spotted Elder Jacobs talking to Oben in the shadow of the gate. Both fell silent as he passed through the arching entrance. He could hear the nobles taking up places behind him as he crossed to the edge of the steps and looked down at the throng of people standing at the base of the steps in the city below.
The lights on the walls that rimmed the city shone bright. Here at the top of the steps, torches flickered in the falling snow. A small platform had been placed atop the steps as he had directed in the missive he sent to Master Triden. The coned amplification system Andreus had last used atop the walls during the Trial of Strength had been set up to make sure his words would be heard.
As a group, the Elders approached him, each wearing the cloak marked with the symbols of the district they represented.
Elder Cestrum leaned forward and whispered, “Your Majesty, you should know that it appears none of the Masters of Light are here and they cannot be found in the palace.”
“I was not aware the Council was tracking every movement of the Masters,” Andreus said as satisfaction filled him. No one had seen Master Triden lead the Guild of Light into the city to the inn Andreus had stumbled upon the other day. The Master was under instructions to remain there until Andreus gave word they could return. They would not be able to keep their presence there a secret for long. Andreus could only hope it would be long enough.
Elder Ulrich stepped forward. “We thought you might want them standing with you as you speak about the wind power and the lights. Their presence could help reassure the people.”
Clever. Andreus clenched a fist at his side. Had he not seen Elder Ulrich atop the battlements, he would not have heard the deceit disguised as concern.
“The Masters are doing their
job,” Andreus answered. And it was time for him to do his.
Turning from the Elders, Andreus adjusted his crown and stepped up onto the small platform.
Trumpets sounded.
People turned to face him. Some cheered. Not as many as once there would have been, but some. He could feel Elder Ulrich’s eyes on his back—adjusting his plans to put a knife in it.
The trumpets faded. Torches crackled as Andreus stared at the faces that looked up at him from below.
He thought of the last time he had addressed the crowd. Then he had believed he was more worthy of the crown than his sister. He had spoken with arrogance. She had spoken with her heart, and the crowd had given her their love.
He touched his pocket where he kept the note Carys had left him beneath the loose step and thought of the honesty—what he now knew to be honesty—with which she spoke not long before he made the choice to take her horse and leave her to the Xhelozi.
“People of Eden, thank you for coming out in the snow,” he said simply. The amplification system caught his words and sent them to everyone in the city. “The cold months are upon us. With them comes the concern we always face from the Xhelozi. The monsters have once again awakened in the mountains and I know this year your worry is great, as is mine.”
He turned and looked up at the windmill blades that were barely moving against the sky. Beyond that was the darkness where there had always been light.
Looking back at his audience, he said, “The wind is unpredictable and the lack of its power has caused a great deal of anxiety. I know that was made worse today when the orb did not light in the sky. I want you to know that I commanded the change be made until the wind blows strong again.” There was a rumble through the crowd. “Many told me not to,” he admitted. “They said the orb is a symbol of Eden, and if it darkened, you would believe that meant Eden was defeated. They said that fear would overtake the city. But it has not. And I don’t believe that it will.”
Andreus thought of Graylem, who lost his sister and still risked his own life in order to to protect others, and Max, who had been left for dead because of an illness he refused to let beat him.
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