I stagger and collapse to the stone as a bone-deep ache rolls through my limbs.
Strong hands gently turn me on to my back, and Ash’s face floats into view over me, his expression once again his own.
“I’m fine,” I lie, gasping for breath. “Just … put your Rot-be-damned weapons down.”
Off to the side, Luz has appeared in the circle of onlookers. She doesn’t say a word, only twists a silver ring around and around one long finger.
Then Kip and Nisai are there, too.
The Prince signals to the temple guards. “Escort Ashradinoran to his quarters.”
“My Prince?” Ash asks, his expression a painful mix of doubt and alarm.
Nisai doesn’t acknowledge him. “Post a pair of guards outside his door, on my order, until otherwise advised.”
CHAPTER 18
ASH
I thought I’d be able to escape from my roiling emotions by focusing on the physical.
I was wrong.
Now confined to my room after the training-session-turned-duel with Barden, and by the Prince I’d dedicated my life to protect, I cycle through more emotion than I used to feel in a turn when I still had Linod’s to hand.
Humiliation. Shame. Anger. Frustration. Guilt.
I’m not even sure what happened out there. Things escalated so quickly, and then Rakel… What did she even do? And what, more importantly, did it do to her?
My thoughts are interrupted by one of the temple guards opening the door. He gestures for me to follow.
“Rakel? How is she?”
“The girl lives.”
Part of the tension I’d been feeling releases. “Can I see her?”
“I’m to deliver you to the Prince.”
It’s not what I was expecting, but it’s not an unwelcome development. I’ll have my chance to explain. I’ll make amends. Perhaps Nisai has even thought on my objections to the shadow weapon, that after today he realizes how important it is to prioritize rescuing Del, Mish and the others. He’ll shift focus from wasting time on the search for some ancient relic to figuring out a way to help those I left behind under Ekasya Mountain, before Zostar finds a way to use them against us.
When I reach his door, it’s open. Kip stands in her usual place outside, but two sets of laughter reach me in the hall.
Kip waves me into the room where I find Nisai and Barden halfway through a game of shnik-shnik, Nisai shaking the game cup in preparation for his turn. A siege is imminent, I’ve been confined to my cell, and meanwhile it’s been all fun and frivolity? How is Nisai letting Barden influence him so?
I clear my throat.
The cup stills.
Kip grunts at Barden, motioning with fist and thumb for him to leave the room.
Barden says something quietly to Nisai before rising to his feet. I couldn’t decipher what he said, but Nisai responds with a grateful smile that sets my teeth on edge. I know that smile. It’s usually directed at me. Dark envy courses through me.
I’ve got nothing against Kip, but I can’t say I’m sorry to see the back of Barden as the pair of them file out. It feels like he seeps his way into everyone’s good graces, just like the amber oil he wears permeates every room he enters. He must bathe in the stuff. How he can afford to on a guard’s wages is anyone’s guess.
When the door shuts behind them, Nisai motions me forward. “Thank you for coming.”
“No thanks needed. It’s where I belong.”
He doesn’t respond, only looks at his hand in his lap. The silence stretches.
“It’s probably best I’m candid,” he says, continuing to avoid my gaze. “It will hopefully save us both from some unneeded awkwardness.”
Avoid awkwardness? Feels like there’s suddenly so much awkward in the room we could drown in it. It’s the first time we’ve been alone together in the best part of a turn. It should be comfortable. A well-worn privacy. But here he is, refusing to look at me.
“Ash, please, sit.” He gestures to the place where Barden had just been. Something contrary sparks in me, unknown and foreign, and I choose the chair diagonally opposite.
“Ash, I’m not going to be Emperor.”
It takes several heartbeats for his words to register. Why would he say such a thing?
“Meaning no disrespect,” I begin, the words falling false from my lips. He’s my best friend, the person I’ve served for half my life, and here I am simpering like some conniving courtier. I clear my throat and begin anew. “Your father is dead. Now you’re Emperor. That’s how this works.”
“No, I’ve made a decision. I’m going to renounce my claim to the throne.”
I blink once, twice.
“It’s my memory, Ash. It’s not … what it used to be before the … before I was incapacitated. If I don’t have my faculties, what will I be? Ineffectual at best.” He wrings his hands as he talks.
I want to reach out to still them. But I force myself to restraint.
“At worst? Who knows what troubled waters I could lead our people into. Especially with Zostar on the scene. I’ve seen how he manipulated my father. I will not be a tool for destruction in the same way. My brother—”
“There’s never been a Regent since Aramtesh’s founding.” I grip the arms of the chair, trying to steady my mind through steadying my body. “That there is one now doesn’t bend the terms of the Accord, it shatters them.”
“Even if I weren’t doubting my faculties, my abilities, the unrest that has so quickly simmered to boiling point is a demonstration that the Accord itself may no longer be enough to hold the Empire together.”
“What are you saying, Nisai?”
“I’m saying I think we need a new model. A fresh start. The kind of arrangement where voices of dissent can be heard without reproach. Perhaps, to start with, expanding the Council of Five, with each province having direct representation. But perhaps later something larger still – like the Conclave held by the Order to decide matters of import. I admit I thought them initially a rabble, but I’ve been talking with people.”
“With who exactly?”
He ignores that. “I’ve begun to think rule by one person, one man … it could never truly serve an entire Empire.”
If I ignore the worst part of me, the jealous part, I have to admit it’s an interesting idea. Perhaps a fine dream, if it could be made to work. But now isn’t the time to make such changes. We need to deal with Zostar and the resurgence of the Blazers first. I need to keep my promise to the children beneath Ekasya Mountain.
“The point is, Ash, if I’m renouncing my claim to build something better, then it only follows that your duties have been discharged.”
My grip on the table tightens, the knuckles going white. “You need protection more than ever.” It hasn’t escaped me that the last time we were alone was in Aphorai City, when I failed in my duties as Shield.
“Nisai, I know what I let happen to you was terrible. Unforgivable, even. But you must stand up to your brother. You must deal with Zostar. Did you not hear anything I said? There are children being experimented upon. They’re being tortured. You can’t start creating a better world until the threats from this one are vanquished.”
“War only begets war, Ash.”
“Then find a better way.”
He throws his hands up in frustration. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! I can’t think! Not like I used to! I’m not retaining information, I’m not making breakthroughs, I’m running the old routes over and over in my mind, wearing grooves so deep I don’t know if I’ll ever escape them.”
“You’re First Prince.” I pause, then correct myself. “You’re Emperor-elect. It’s your duty to lead us out of this. Your duty to stop the atrocities in Ekasya. Your duty to find a better way.”
“Duty,” he scoffs then tilts his face to the ceiling, laughing darkly. And with that laugh, the temperature in the room seems to change, the heat of our anger replaced with a chill. “Your precious duty. Treasured du
ty. More important to you than anything else.” He reaches for his crutches and rises to his feet, turning his back to me. “It was more important to protect me than to love me.”
The words are a fist curled around my heart. “We had no future! Once you were Emperor – you’d have to produce an heir. A wife from every province. You’d be expected to share a bed with at least one of them.”
His shoulders slump. “That’s duty, not love.”
“And my duty is my love. It’s bigger than desire. You once asked me what makes a good Emperor. Don’t you remember? Back in Ekasya? It’s you. You, Nisai. It’s one of the many reasons I’ve always loved you. Your questioning, your desire to find the good in all, your fascination with how the world works and how it might be made a better version of itself. You will make a good Emperor, whatever you decide to do with that office one you hold it. But you must take it, first. And an Emperor needs a Shield.”
For all he reacts, he might not have heard a single word I uttered. He’s deathly still. Frozen. What I’d do to be able to see his eyes, to know what he’s thinking. Is he ashamed of not claiming his birthright?
Or is he ashamed of me? What I’m capable of. The destruction. The growing darkness.
“It’s—” My throat constricts around the words. “It’s more, isn’t it? It’s my curse. It’s not something that just seemed supernatural when we were boys. Now it’s undeniable. And now you’re intent on finding a weapon against it. You don’t want me by your side any more, do you? Because of what I am.”
Nisai turns so fast one of his crutches slides out from under him and for a terrible moment I think he’s going to lose his balance. But then he rights himself.
“It is, isn’t it?” I press on, a cruel barb in my voice I’ve never directed at him before. “You didn’t mind when it was something amorphous, something legendary, something fascinating you could research. An answer just out of reach. But now you know, now it’s real. Now it can do what I’ve always told you. Now I’m a not just a killer bloodsworn to you. I’m a monster.”
He shakes his head.
I advance on him, closing the space between us, my voice lowered to a growl like I’m some kind of wild animal. Out of control. “You don’t want to dismiss me because you’re not intending to take the throne. You fear me.”
I expect him to retreat. But he holds his ground until there’s only a handspan between us.
“Emperor is a title,” he says. “An office. You may not agree with me walking away from it, but it is possible. Your power, however, is an inseparable part of you. Whether I fear you or not is irrelevant. Many now see you as a threat not unlike Zostar, and because of that, you simply cannot perform the duties of Shield.”
He reaches up, his hand soft against my cheek. “Know that I will always love you.”
The words tear into me. They’re true. But they’re laced with sorrow.
Then he straightens, lifts his chin and assumes the regal expression I’ve come to know as the difference between the First Prince of Aramtesh and simply Nisai.
“Ashradinoran, you are dismissed.”
Back in my room, I don’t bother lighting any candles. What do I need to see? There’s nothing to read. I could write, but what would I write of, and who would I write to? And would the guards posted outside the door even permit a message to be sent from inside this room?
Perhaps this is Ekasya Mountain all over again. Exile. Isolation. Darkness. Perhaps it is all a creature like me deserves.
I find myself laughing harshly into the emptiness. The dark used to trigger my fear. Now it’s familiar. Almost comforting.
I lie back on the bed, its softness almost comtemptible, and imagine taking out the guards. Fighting my way free of here. It wouldn’t be too difficult. They’re clearly not trained to the same level. If I timed it right, their demise might not even be noticed for some time.
What am I even thinking?
I shake my head. This isn’t me. Those guards are doing nothing but their job. They’re not the enemy here. Even if I could give them the slip without harm, what would that achieve? Nisai clearly has made his decision about me. And, given the circumstances, he’s as safe here – within the walls of Aphorai City – as any place.
And after today, what is Rakel thinking? If I could speak to her, explain, what would I say? What sort of life could I offer her? Am I going to deteriorate further than this? Lose control in the mildest conflict? I could go back on Linod’s Elixir. It might keep me steady enough to find some mercenary or guard work. Perhaps we could even return to Lapis Lautus – Rakel said she enjoyed the smuggler city with its cosmopolitan ways.
But Linod’s is only a temporary solution. Rakel knows that better than anyone. And running away would also be breaking a promise – I said I would go back for Del and Lark and the other children under Ekasya Mountain. There must be a way to help them to freedom. I just don’t know what that way is.
If nothing else, at least it’s quiet enough to think.
“Ash?”
Correction. It was quiet.
“Ash? The guards won’t let me in, but they’ve stepped away so we can talk. We’ve only got a few minutes.”
I glare into the gloom. “What are you doing down here?” Emotion roils in me, so powerful and foreign. There’s anger at the intrusion warring with embarrassment that I should even need the seclusion, and, as I rise and cross to the door, pressing my hands against it, a longing to reach for her, to have her touch make me forget.
But would that be using her the same as Linod’s? A crutch?
“I could ask the same question of you,” she says, anger sparking in her voice.
Oh, to feel as if your rage was righteous. A pure, cleansing fire. Not polluted like my torrent of thoughts, scum and detritus swirling in the current.
“Nisai’s worried about you.”
He’s worried about me? I burst into laughter. It’s harsher still, guttural.
“Ash, what happened between you two?”
Now that is a genuine surprise. Nisai must not yet have informed anyone of his decision. Perhaps it’s a benevolent gesture. A kind act of charity to let me control when others know of my dismissal. Or perhaps it’s yet another example of Nisai refusing to face his responsibility.
But I know Rakel. She’s not going to let me out of this without a fight. Perhaps I should be grateful for that.
“He dismissed me.”
“From his chambers?”
“Permanently. He dismissed me from duty.” The words feel like a weapon – as if they’ll deal the mortal blow and make this all irredeemably real. But they can’t remain unspoken. That is the coward’s way. “I am no longer his Shield.”
Silence from the other side of the door.
“He fears me now. He fears what I am.” I force a ragged breath into my lungs. “And that’s not all he fears. He says he is going to renounce his claim to the throne. That he’ll defer to the Council or some kind of collective decision-making. A Conclave, he called it. But it doesn’t make sense. He was always going to be a better Emperor than Kaddash.”
There’s a pause, then a sigh. “It’s the headaches. His memory hasn’t been what it was since the poisoning. He’s genuinely struggling with the idea of ruling. Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe the Empire needs change.”
“But he’ll mend. And he has advisors to support him. And—”
“Ash, he may not get better. We have no way of telling. It’s not like people regularly get poisoned with blackvein and we have a bunch of examples of how it turns out. And in the meantime, he doesn’t trust himself. You of all people should be able to relate to that.”
“What I think clearly doesn’t matter any more.”
“It matters to me.” Her voice is quiet, timid even.
I wish I could put my arms around her, draw her close. I want to. But even if we were on the same side of the door, I’m not sure I could. My pain is a wall between us. For so many turns, my life has revolved around
Nisai. Now that has been cast aside. I’ve got nothing in reserve to comfort someone else, however much I might wish to. Regardless of how much I might love them.
“Ash, if you could be free of your power—”
“Power? That’s the word Nisai used. Why don’t any of you say it for what it is? A curse.”
“Your curse, then. If there was a way for you to be separated from it, permanently, would you take it?”
There’s that laugh again. Full of contempt. Almost a growl. I would not believe it was coming from me if I didn’t hear it from my own ears.
“Would you, Ash?”
“In a heartbeat.”
“Then I think I can help.” Her voice is low and even. She’s serious. “What I did today, when you lost control… It’s like what I did to cure Nisai of the final part of the poison. The shadow part.”
I turn away, pressing my back to the door and sinking to the floor. “I don’t think that’s how this works.”
“I believe it, Ash. Nisai did, too, remember? Part of the reason he was in Aphorai back when all this started was to find out if Sephine could help you.”
Movement catches my eye. In the sliver of light spilling in from the hallway outside, Rakel’s hand appears under the gap in the door. I hesitate, then lay mine over it. All of a sudden she’s so much more real, the skin marked with the nicks and burns of her work, the new callouses beginning to form on her right hand where she’s been learning to write.
“Ash, you did so much for me. You kept me alive, you sacrificed yourself in the throne room and … I love you. Let me help you. I’ve imbibed the Scent Keeper elixir and survived. For whatever rhyme or reason I’ve been granted the ability to channel the will of Asmudtag, as they call it. To balance things. I just need to work out how not to…”
“Not to what?”
“I guess there’s a limit for anyone. When Sephine took the poison into herself to keep Nisai alive while we found the antidote, she… But surely it’s only a risk, not a given.”
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