by Andra Leigh
That was because suddenly it didn’t matter.
Someone was dead…
Casamir knelt at his side, head in his hands, shoulders slumped.
Raiden stood by his feet, tears flowing down his face, soaking his beard.
He lay on his back. Sand blew up over him, as if threatening to bury him. Still. He was so still.
Someone was dead.
Jinx was dead.
●
There was no grief. She felt no rage or depression.
Just utter confusion.
Why was Jinx lying like that? Why wouldn’t he open his eyes? Did he think burying a bolt in his chest would be an amusing joke? That must be it.
Then why was no one laughing… Should she laugh? Was that what she was supposed to do? Let the others know that it’s a joke and to laugh along with her. She parted her lips to comply but it wasn’t a laugh that escaped. A raw sob tore from her throat. It was the sound that broke her confusion.
Jinx was dead.
It seemed impossible. Illogical. Wrong. Yet, resting her hand on his chest, there was only stillness. Warmth still clung to his skin. But it was an afterthought of life. It had once been a heat that had settled itself within his body, radiating out, but without the beat of his heart it was becoming a fading shadow across his surface. Eliscity pulled her hand away and clutched it to her, scared she would feel him suddenly turn cold.
A man’s body lay crumpled on the ground a few feet from them. The bow, from which the bolt that was buried in Jinx’s chest had been loosed, still clasped in his limp hand. His neck had been snapped, allowing his body to lean away from the direction his head sat. Sweeping her eyes over his face, over the small jagged scars darting through his right eyebrow, Eliscity felt sick. It was the man she had left unconscious in his guard station.
She had made the decision to let the man live. And he had taken those extra minutes of his life and used them to murder Jinx.
She could have prevented this.
This shouldn’t have happened.
But it did.
Because of her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Ascending Reigness
• Acanthea •
At the beginning of the celebrations, the Lord Reigner had made a touching speech to the hundreds who had turned out to see the Gentle Reigness safely back at the palace. He had thanked the Dead for her return. His voice had choked up and he had even shed a tear as he had described the torment of not knowing where his own daughter was.
It had all been fake.
He was yet to say anything to Acanthea that wasn’t across a crowded room in his best speech voice. He had been flanked by his favourite, most trusted, guards all night. People thought it was because of his new concern that kidnappers could try again. Except he was the only one to have the heightened security.
It was because of her.
He didn’t know what she had found out about him. About the Clinic. He didn’t know why she had returned to the palace and he wasn’t taking any chances. He was doing his best to show her how powerful he was. That she couldn’t hope to touch him.
Only the more she looked at him, encompassed by grim faced guards, the more she saw a weak man cowering behind people he paid to die for him.
Why had she ever feared him?
“Who’s this, then?” asked a woman too old for the tight dress she was wearing. She was squinting at Drae, as though she could see straight through the expensive illusion Acanthea had dressed him in. She probably could. The woman was weighed down with so many jewels that it was clear she was familiar with real wealth. She knew a poor man dressed well when she saw it.
Drae smiled and cut off Acanthea before she could reply. “I’m the Gentle Reigness’ friend.”
The woman narrowed her eyes at Drae.
“Told you,” Acanthea whispered under her breath.
“Wow.”
“He’s my new tutor for math,” she said. “Oh, look over there, it’s Mister er… Grunlow. I’ll introduce you.” She grabbed Drae by the arm and steered him away from the old woman. She was getting tired of all the tedious hugs and well-wishes that she was being forced to receive from everyone. She had wanted to slip away to search the Reigner’s quarters during the celebrations, thinking he would be too busy to keep track of her every second. But so far he had proven sharp eyed. When he wasn’t watching her from across the room, his guards were.
“I find it amusing that I pose more threat as your friend, than as your kidnapper,” Drae said.
“It’s not a threat. People just aren’t used to hearing me associated with the word ‘friend’.”
“You must have had friends growing up.”
Acanthea thought for a moment. “I had a dog.”
Drae scrunched up his nose. “Maybe we’re more alike than I thought.”
“Oh no, I’m nothing like you. You cut yourself off from everyone for years just because you lost a girl.”
He stopped, realisation glinting in his eyes. “That’s your problem with me, isn’t it?”
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t like me because you think I’m weak for not moving on.”
Acanthea laughed loudly. “You thought she was dead!”
“I have a hilarious anecdote about a woman I once thought was dead,” drawled a familiar voice to her right. Turning she found Tylan DirTarne staring straight at her. “Never bed a lady over seventy, I’ll tell you now. I’ve also got an anecdote about a Gentle Reigness who asked me to get some information, then disappeared before I managed to find out anything.”
Acanthea frowned. “You know, I actually forgot about that.”
“Touching.”
“Did you find anything about Wyon Eddwist?” she asked, curious what the people in the Realm knew of the Clinic.
Tylan’s eyebrow rose. “Seems you did. It took me weeks to find the name Wyon. Please tell me that you had to endure the same backbreaking work that I did to come across it?”
“Your idea of backbreaking work tends to involve a bed. So I’m going to say, no.”
Tylan gave a faraway grin. She rolled her eyes.
“What did you learn, Tylan?”
“Stories used to scare children. And a strange coincidence surrounding the Eddwist family and a missing member every thirty or so years.”
“Anything else?”
Tylan narrowed his sharp eyes at her. “Your tone suggests there should be.”
“You asked me something the last time we met,” she said, changing the subject. “I’d like to know your opinion on it.”
Tylan gave her a quizzical look.
“Is the Lord Reigner, a good Reigner?”
Tylan scooped up a flute of mead from a passing tray, winked at Acanthea and said, “You never answered that question either.” Toasting her, he disappeared into the crowd.
Acanthea grabbed Drae by the arm again.
“Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“To talk to the Reigner.”
She was done with this game.
“Oh, wonderful…”
No one stepped in front of her to offer their words of relief at her safety as she stalked towards the Reigner, dragging Drae beside her. A good thing, as she was beginning to feel the urge to elbow someone. As she climbed the wide steps leading to where the Reigner had sat to watch the celebrations, two of his guards stepped forward, barring her from taking the final few steps to him.
It didn’t matter. She could talk through the men.
“What happened to Wyon Eddwist?”
It was the question that had started her journey. It had led to learning all about the Clinic and finding the Family. What had happened to Cathrainra’s son? And why had Cathrainra needed to die for it?
“He died,” the Reigner said through his guards. His lips curved into a sneer. “Many years ago.”
Acanthea flinched. He was oblivious. He didn’t see. He was responsible for the death of Cathrainra�
��s son. The woman who had raised his only daughter. He didn’t care.
“Did you know that before Cathrainra came to you and you had her killed? Did you know his name? Do you know any of the names of the people you disappeared, tortured and in some cases murdered?”
The Reigner scoffed. “Their importance to me does not extend to their names. Why should I care to learn them?”
“I got that from you,” Acanthea said, feeling sick. “I never learnt names. I hate that. I don’t want to be anything like you. You’re a killer who pays other people to spill the blood and report back.”
His eyes flared. “You should be careful with what you say in such open places. People have died for accusing me of less.”
“Threatening my life will have no affect on me, Lord Reigner. Go on, ask me why.”
Instead of asking her, he shifted his attention to Drae, looking at the man with disdain.
“Who’s this?”
Acanthea smiled sweetly. “Oh, well that’s an awkward question. See, you broke him and his love up when you arranged her marriage of convenience to another, in order to have her ‘pretend killed’ but really carted off to the Clinic. Where – actually, funny story, a lot of people have been ‘pretend dying’ – she escaped, joined up with a bunch of these ‘pretend dead’ and – shush – you’re not going to know this for a few more days, once word finally reaches you from the Clinic. But they’re all currently there, quite possibly as we speak, bringing it down. Sorry, what was the question again? Oh yes, this is Drae.”
Drae offered the Reigner his hand, a grin wide across his face.
“They’re at…” the Reigner was white.
“Yes. They’re at the Clinic. Making sure you can never hurt innocent girls and boys ever again. It may be tomorrow, it may be years from now, but one thing I am certain of is that the Realm will find out about the Clinic. And here’s the part I want to stress to you. I am not on your side.” She watched the Reigner’s face sour. “The Realm won’t be either.”
Satisfied with how their conversation had gone, Acanthea spun on her heel and walked away from him. She hadn’t intended to say so much. She definitely hadn’t planned to mention what was happening at the Clinic right now. But now that she had, she was glad. He now knew his Realm, which was carefully constructed on secrets and blood, was about to be torn open. And she’d gotten to see his face when he had realised it.
“Now?” Drae asked, close at her side.
She was about to say yes. Leave in front of the Reigner, head for his quarters and find as many papers on the Clinic as possible. But then she saw the Reigner striding quickly through the room, his cloak billowing out behind him. He swept up the main staircase with purpose, exiting through the grand doors.
“What now?” Drae asked.
Acanthea chewed her lip looking at the spot where the Reigner had disappeared from sight. He’d left his guards behind. He hadn’t taken a single one of them with him. Was he on his way to destroy those papers she was here to find?
She looked Drae up and down quickly. “You look like you could win against him in a fight.”
Drae raised a startled eyebrow at her.
She shrugged and pulled him into a walk. “I don’t think it would take much. Not sure he’s ever been in a fight a day in his life. One good punch in the nose should do it.”
“You’re giving me permission to fight the man responsible for taking Eliscity away from me and you think I’d stop at a punch in the nose?”
Acanthea laughed. He was growing on her. He wasn’t as plain and spineless as she had originally thought.
They followed the Reigner’s path from the celebrations, taking longer than necessary when a few people decided it was their turn to offer Acanthea their words of relief. Finally, they stepped through the grand door into the wide corridor.
“This way,” she said.
She led Drae through the palace corridors and smaller hallways until they were standing in front of the closed door to the Reigner’s office. Curiously, there were no guards here either. This was a door that normally had a rotating shift of guards standing at it. Had the Reigner sent them away?
Acanthea tried the door handle and was surprised to find it unlocked. She swung it open, half expecting a dozen guards to be on the other side with bolts aimed at her heart. But the only person inside the office was the Reigner.
He was sitting at his curved desk, papers stacked neatly around him, his cloak framing him in a majestic fan.
He was also dead.
The sweet scent of poison drifted through the air. Moving closer to inspect him, Acanthea saw the telltale amber liquid seeping from the corner of his slightly parted mouth. She knew it from her studies. Rule number one of being a Reigness, always be able to identify poisons that someone could be trying to slip you. This one worked almost instantaneously. Apparently painless and quick. Since its fast-acting quality wasn’t conducive in allowing a poison-giver time to escape and its powerful sweet scent gave itself away, it wasn’t favoured as a poison for killing. It was a poison favoured for dying. By those looking to die.
“Coward,” Acanthea muttered at the Reigner.
“I can’t imagine living a life where this could ever be a viable ending,” Drae said. He had followed her into the office, closing the door behind them. Now he stood in front of the desk, looking over it at the late Lord Reigner.
“He knew it was only a matter of time before he had to pay for his secrets. He would never let that be on anything but his own terms.”
“Are you okay?” Drae asked. “He’s the last of your family.”
Acanthea turned away from the Reigner. “No, he killed the last of my family months ago.” She shuffled through the stacks of paper on his desk, but they were only ceding reports and lists of numbers. Nothing on the Clinic.
“What happens to the reignership now?”
Acanthea paused before shakily returning the papers to their piles. “It’s mine,” she whispered. “But I don’t want it.”
“So don’t take it,” Drae said seriously.
She laughed sharply. “It’s not that easy.”
“No. But taking it won’t be easy either.”
She glanced up at him, seeing only kindness in his eyes. Not knowing what to do with it, she said, “Let’s just find those Clinic papers.”
She moved to the mirror on the far wall which was reflecting the door opposite. It was inset into the shelves that lined the room, adorned with a knotted gold frame. It only took her a moment to find the knots that twisted gears inside the shelves. As she spun the fourth one out of its frame the two shelves between the glass shifted away from each other and a passageway appeared before her. She peered into it.
“Oh good, an ominous staircase leading down into darkness.” She turned back to Drae who was extracting a candelabrum from its wall bracket. “Want to go first?”
Drae handed her the candelabrum. “Nope.”
Muttering insults under her breath, she took the light and started down the staircase, leaving the Reigner’s body behind. It twisted down into the palace depths, the air getting colder with each step. The walls were tight on either side of them. When they finally made it to the bottom of the staircase Acanthea was shivering and confused. She had expected lavish rooms, designed to maximise the Reigner’s comfort while reading reports about the Clinic. But that wasn’t what she and Drae were standing on the edge of.
It was a dungeon.
The light from the candelabrum barely touched the darkness of the underground stone cellar. But she could hear things. Swishes and lapping. Water? Fluttering and rustles. Movements.
Breaths.
She and Drae exchanged a hesitant look.
She took one of the candles and pressed it to a hollow in the stone wall. The flame caught on the oil in it and travelled down the wall, illuminating the whole dungeon.
And Acanthea saw the truth.
It didn’t matter that Jinx and Eliscity were destroying every dr
op of blood at the Clinic.
Because more could be drawn.
The dungeon held Bloods. Real Bloods. Alive Bloods.
This was the true blood bank of the Clinic.
“Drae…”
“It’s real,” his voice assured from her side.
She stepped forward tentatively. Caged to her left, human eyes flickered over her face before quickly lowering. It was a naked man. His skin was like paper. His eyes red from living in the dark. A shackle hugged him around the smallest part of his waist. She could see his flesh was raw and burnt where it touched him. She realised its purpose. It was latched around his middle to ensure it remained on when he transformed. He was a Wolf.
He was just the beginning of the Bloods prisoners.
Each cell was carefully tailored to hold its creature. To keep it weak and caught. Three small glass cells sat in a row, two with flakes and grains blown into their designs. Tiny air holes punctured these two. A tiny Pixnie was in the first, a Faerie in the second. The third had nothing but a thin fog in it. A Phoenix, its plumage dirty and limp, was caged behind several layers and types of bars. There was a glass tank filled with murky water. She couldn’t see anything it in and thought maybe it had been emptied, when a pair of yellow eyes gleamed out from its depths. She backed up. She didn’t want to look into the other cells. She could see more eyes glowing from them and felt broken.
A whole range of emotions looked out at them from the cages. Hatred, anger, disgust, pity, sadness, fear, emptiness. But none pleading. They’d been here too long to believe in being saved.
Hot tears were burning down Acanthea’s cheeks. Turning to Drae, she saw he too was crying.
“The War lasted 176 years,” she said. “No person was there for the beginning and the end of it. But all of these Bloods could have been. They could have seen every part of the War. They could have survived through all of that, just to be imprisoned here for the last 362 years.”
She wanted to throw up. Had this been the legacy of the Reigner and Reigness’? To be the keepers of the Bloods. Feed them. Give them water and keep them alive. So that they could be bled at any chance. How many Reigners and Reigness’ had lived and died with this secret? How many had let it kill them? The Reigner had ensured her teachings never crossed into those of the Lady Reigness. Was it possible he had been trying to spare her from the truth for just a little longer? Were the creatures in this dungeon the reason for every decision he’d made? How much pain could that cause even the coldest of people?