by Kevin George
Ryo nodded to his men but offered no specifics about what to do. Raefaline gave him a few seconds to figure it out until finally rolling her eyes and standing from the throne.
“Go to The Third,” she commanded the guardsmen. “Order Zander Blake to attack and destroy any hope of Prince Oliver’s survival or potential claim to power.”
“King Edmond ordered Blake not to attack,” a guardsman said. “The guard forces were supposed to be used as a threat, only to be used under dire conditions. King Edmond planned to have Oliver killed in a much easier manner, one that wouldn’t require mass violence.”
“Well, I’m not Edmond,” Raefaline snapped. Her voice caused the baby to squirm in her arms. Her next words seethed with quiet intensity. “And Ryo will never have the chance to be king until we tie up loose ends.”
Another guardsman stepped forward, this time kneeling at the foot of the platform steps, bowing his head low. “Your Illustriousness, why would the guards listen to us? Or to your orders? Weren’t those the men most loyal to King Edmond? Most loyal to the Lord and Jonas?”
“Those men are most loyal to whoever’s in charge, and that’s me. . . and Ryo. . . and the rest of you,” she said. “If they question the order, let them know their continued loyalty will benefit their families still in One. . . their families alone with us and under our protection.”
“Once this is all over, the guards won’t be pleased that we manipulated them,” Ryo said.
“Higher-ranked guards will be reassigned to leadership positions in other sections; that should deal with any hurt feelings,” the queen said. “Any other problems will be handled as they arise.” She reached out and took Ryo’s hand in the first semi-public display of affection between them. “I want you to be the one to deliver the news to Blake. Take however many men you need, but leave a few of your best to look over your son.”
Ryo grimaced at the idea of leaving but eventually chose two guardsmen to accompany him, leaving the rest in their positions guarding the queen. Ryo began to march out of the throne room when he stopped and turned back to Raefaline.
“There’s also the other problem we discussed on the way here,” Ryo said.
“The prisoner from Above?” the queen asked.
Ryo nodded. “Probably best to eliminate him.”
“Agreed,” the queen said. “Send your best.”
Ryo looked at the remaining guardsmen and pointed to the three largest. Glances were exchanged among the men—none of whom appeared thrilled for the task—but they bowed to the queen, gripped their spears tightly and headed for the palace entrance and the bottom level. Queen Raefaline watched the men leave and considered returning to her room for much needed sleep. But she didn’t feel like making the trek back through the palace and didn’t know if there’d be complications with the prisoner. Besides, she’d waited years for the chance to sit on the throne—years she’d doubted this moment would ever happen—and she felt a cloud of burden settling over her mind.
Queen Raefaline’s eyes eventually drifted to the wall beside the throne platform. She watched the faint outline of the Lord’s room door and wished she’d kept Edmond’s body long enough to chop off his hand.
The trio of dark-skinned guardsmen made their way through the palace hallways, none walking particularly fast, each of them glancing at the other two, hoping someone would take the lead. Nobody did.
“Strange that this place is so empty,” said one of the guardsman, who looked around at the empty shadows.
“The palace guards finally got what they deserved for looking down at us,” another said.
“Bit harsh, don’t you think? What about what happened to King Edmond? Did he deserve to die like that?”
“You know what the king used to do to those girls brought to the palace,” the other guardsmen said, shaking his head in disgust. “I’m not losing sleep over his death.”
“He did give us more opportunity than anyone else ever did.”
“True, but Ryo’s in charge now, and he’s one of us.”
“But is he? In charge, I mean? I didn’t see him giving any orders,” the third guardsman said.
The other guardsmen snorted. Before they reached the spiral staircase leading down, the echo of a strange sound stopped them in their tracks. They peered down the darkened hallway, unable to see the end, a whooshing noise growing clearer. The men looked at each other, all three raising their spears at the same time, inching forward together. Nobody said a word as the whooshing grew louder. . . closer. . . the noise so thunderous it seemed to surround them, causing the guardsmen to question which direction it was coming from.
A giant shadow filled the wall ahead and the guardsmen realized the section of palace they were approaching.
“The queen’s bedroom!” one of them called out, having to yell to be heard over the pounding whoosh.
But his words no sooner left his mouth than they echoed down the hallway, which had suddenly grown quiet, the whooshing still audible but fading rapidly into the distance. The giant shadow was also gone.
“The queen’s not even in there,” another guardsman said, slowly backing away.
“We have to go that way to get to the staircase,” the third man said. “Do you want to tell the queen why you couldn’t follow orders?”
One of the guardsmen finally hurried forward and the other two joined. They approached the royal bedroom but first reached the trio of large cutouts that overlooked the entirety of One. The guardsmen had seen the view enough to no longer be impressed, but that didn’t stop one of them from stopping to look outside. He pointed.
“Do you see that?”
“See what? Among the steam?”
“You do see it.”
The ceiling of colors could hardly be seen through the cloud of steam hanging over One. Nearly half of the colorful panels had blinked off during the last few months, leaving huge sections of black among the blue often displayed during the day. Still, the guardsmen thought they spotted a blur among the steam, a shadowy form passing briefly near a bright section of blue.
“We’re supposed to head down below,” one of the guardsmen finally said.
The other two nodded and the trio scampered off, nearly tripping over each other as they rushed down the spiral staircase to the lowest level. Running through the abandoned hallway, the guardsmen slowed when the final room was in sight. Nobody was surprised to find a pair of guards on the ground, moaning in pain, in front of the splintered, smashed door of the room that had once contained Love.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“This has gone on long enough,” Zander muttered quietly enough so only the man in front of him could hear. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold them back.”
“I’m controlling my people,” Aytyn said. “I suggest you do the same.”
Zander shook his head, trying to suppress mounting frustration. “Nobody wants a war; it wouldn’t work out well for anyone. Hand over the prince before anything ugly happens. I know King Edmond sent you here to deal with his son if this situation came about.”
Behind Zander, a One guard called out insults about the Thirders being traitors to the Lord and Jonas. Cries of agreement echoed among One’s forces, while fighters on the other side called out accusations of the Lord and Jonas not being real, words met with boos and hisses and attempts by One guards to push ahead. Zander turned to his guards, his commands to stand down barely heard over the yelling. He started to get his guards calmed when a voice near the back of One’s army boomed a simple command.
“Queen Raefaline orders One to attack if Oliver does not show himself now!”
Zander craned his neck to see who’d called out such an order, but his lines of men stretched several dozen deep and he couldn’t see the back.
“Stand down!” Zander called out.
“Queen Raefaline has control of your families in One!” the voice yelled, growing louder. Ryo pushed his way through the One guards, many of whom stared at him with derision,
a few men gripping their spears so tightly that it looked like they might attack. But the leader of the royal guardsmen paid no attention to their glares, even as his threats became less subtle. “Do as your queen commands if you want to return to the same homes that you left!”
Zander started toward Ryo but thought better of it. He couldn’t imagine why the queen would be giving any orders, but he had a sinking feeling his time in charge was running out. He turned to Aytyn, knowing he was the last chance—and this was the last opportunity—to do things the easy way. Aytyn joined the other former guardsmen and the Thirders in raising their weapons and looking toward Ryo.
“Follow through on the king’s plan,” Zander begged.
Usually devoid of expression, the corners of Aytyn’s eyes creased and his forehead lined with wrinkles. But Aytyn shook his head and leaned in closer.
“I can only follow that order if the king gives it to me,” he said. “Please, tell him to hurry here and I’ll do as he says.”
A section of Thirders stepped aside, allowing Oliver to pass through their ranks.
“Did someone mention following the queen’s orders?” Oliver asked, unable to hide his disgust.
Zander’s body tensed. He hoped Oliver would come close enough to be grabbed and pulled away—or that Aytyn would at least step out of the way—but the prince remained safely among his people. Oliver had a clear view of Ryo making his way through the rest of One’s guards. Ryo didn’t give Zander a second glance as he passed him, though the new leader of the royal guardsmen didn’t dare try pushing past the former leader.
“You heard me say that!” Ryo called out. “Queen Raefaline commands this blockade to disperse and the renounced prince return to One. If not, it will be war for all!”
“And since when is that the queen’s decision to make?” Oliver asked.
“Since King Edmond was killed and Raefaline took control.”
Battle cries from both sides were quieted in an instant, the resulting silence finally broken by Oliver’s laughter.
“A lie! Probably concocted by my father to trick us!” he called out.
Ryo shook his head and two of his fellow guardsmen arrived behind him, both men confirming the news. Every part of Oliver’s mind screamed ‘lie,’ but there was something about Ryo’s expression—nervous, yet self-satisfied—that told Oliver his father was truly gone. Oliver was too focused on the shocked expressions of One guards to see Aytyn retreat another step toward the Thirders.
“I now serve the only remaining Jonas,” Aytyn told Zander.
Oliver was surprised to find himself struggling to take a breath or form a thought. It was only the smug grin on Ryo’s face that replaced Oliver’s emptiness with rage. Oliver pushed his way forward until realizing that was exactly what the dark-skinned guard wanted. Kalford remained dutifully by his side and Oliver allowed his protector to hold him back.
“How did it happen?” Oliver demanded. “Was the queen involved in his death?”
“Details don’t matter,” Ryo said. “Maybe the Lord and Jonas decided it was King Edmond’s time to go. Either way, there are going to be changes in the city and the queen demands you return to One to pledge loyalty to her!”
“I’ve demanded no such thing,” a woman’s voice said behind Oliver.
Emma made her way through The Third’s mass of fighters. She nudged past Kalford until she stood beside her husband, never once looking at him, her eyes narrowed on Ryo. Aytyn finally broke his line, edging back through the crowd until reaching the prince and princess, urging them to return to safety.
“Queen Raefaline is the one and only queen!” Ryo pronounced. “Like the king before her, she demands illness testers be allowed into The Third. Failure to comply will result in harsh consequences for every citizen of The Third and Fifth. I must warn you that Queen Raefaline is not as soft-hearted as the king before her.” Ryo turned to the One forces, addressing them with the same force that he’d used for the enemy. “For those that don’t follow orders, the queen will follow through on her threats.”
Emma inched closer toward the shrinking space separating the two sides, wrenching her arm away when Oliver tried to hold her back.
“I do no such thing,” Emma snapped. “And I assure all of you that anyone who tries to step past King Oliver’s true guardsmen will never have a chance to travel Beyond the Light.”
Ryo stomped forward and Aytyn did the same, the two men crossing spears. Although Ryo had a size advantage on his counterpart, Aytyn held his ground and refused to be pushed back an inch. Ryo sneered but stepped back and addressed the entire crowd.
“There’s only one queen and her name is Raefaline,” he yelled. “She sits atop the throne, where she belongs, and any imposter will be dealt with harshly.”
Zander tried to step around Ryo and preach a message of peace and diplomacy, but he was promptly pushed away.
“The line of succession is clear!” Emma called out. “It’s always been clear! The king’s death is always followed by the ascension of the prince!”
“Except that just before his death, King Edmond publicly denounced Oliver and sentenced him to die for treason,” Ryo said. “He made the importance of Queen Raefaline known to all, as well as her newborn child.”
Oliver heard the words being yelled from both sides, but he barely paid attention to their meaning, too shocked by the news of his father’s death and exactly what it meant for him and the future of the city. Not even Emma’s appearance snapped him back to reality, at least until Ryo announced news of the queen’s child.
“Raefaline had the baby?” he asked.
“The queen birthed the new heir to the throne,” Ryo said. “And on the day of her child’s birth, she’s found a greater appreciation for the value of life and has conceded to letting you live, as long as you come with me to One and pledge loyalty to her reign. Avoid the war to come, avoid the bloodshed. We both know you can’t win.”
Oliver was confused, but not because he had too many thoughts swirling in his brain to focus on any one of them. In fact, his mind felt completely numb. A warm, soft hand slid into his, but he experienced no sudden clarity about what he should do when he looked into Emma’s eyes. She shook her head, her eyes narrowing, her choice to stay and fight as clear as it had always been. Though Oliver couldn’t say he felt bad about his father’s death, he couldn’t accept Ryo’s vague explanation about how the king had died. There was no doubt in his mind the queen was responsible; there was also no doubt in his mind that Raefaline had no intention of sparing him.
Without looking at Ryo, Oliver answered with a single shake of his head, knowing his choice would condemn plenty of people on both sides—possibly Emma and himself included—to a bloody death. But he’d spoken several times to Emma about that possibility and she was more than prepared to risk her life for a chance at true freedom, for a chance at true change. Oliver found his eyes wandering to Kalford, the only true friend he had, the young man with the broken arm that had never healed properly, the young man lucky enough to marry Paige Blake, a match Oliver had made but still felt a deep-seated envy about. Kalford’s eyes were brimming with fear, but he forced a smile and nod at Oliver, his spear held awkwardly in his hands.
Oliver spotted the speeding blur in his periphery. He had no time to do anything but flinch. Luckily for him, the spear missed him by several feet. But the spear found human flesh, the thud echoing in the tunnel, a sound followed immediately by a surprised groan. Gasps arose from both sides, but Oliver barely heard them. He watched Kalford’s eyes widen and his face slacken, his head dipping down to the huge spear sticking out of his chest. The moment Kalford saw it, he collapsed, dead before he hit the ground.
“No, you fool!” Zander snapped.
Everything around Oliver seemed to happen in slow motion. A wide swath formed around Kalford. The Thirders seemed to recognize right away that there was no helping him. Oliver turned slowly to the enemy, where Zander stared daggers into Ryo, who remained
standing slightly sideways in his throwing stance. Zander waved his hands toward his men, frantic for them to stand down, but the sight of blood ended any chance for a peaceful resolution.
“Long live Queen Raefaline!” Ryo yelled, melting farther back into his crowd.
One guards raised their spears and cried their support, drowning out Zander’s pleas. Though this moment had seemed inevitable from the day Oliver walked away from his old life, he still found himself lost for words. It wasn’t until Emma squeezed his hand that he found the strength to turn to his people and issue the most difficult command of his life.
“We won’t ever be under One’s control again!” he yelled. “Attack!”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Bloodthirsty cries erupted from One’s side; rallying cries erupted from The Third. With impending danger moments away, Oliver pulled his hand from Emma’s, stepping in front to shield her from potential harm. He’d nearly forgotten the spear in his other hand, but he raised it high in front of him, calling out for The Thirders to follow him, fully intent on leading them into battle.
A strong hand suddenly grasped his elbow from behind. He spun around, ready to strike down any man who’d dare try to stop him, but he found Emma’s face glaring at him. Other Thirders looked as worried as Oliver felt, but that didn’t stop them from surging forward, leaving Oliver wanting to do the same. Emma shook her head and kept a vice-like grip on his arm.
“You can’t,” she said.
“I have to,” Oliver said, finally pulling free. “You need to get far back. . . all the way to a good hiding spot in The Fifth.”
Both were jostled about by surging bodies, dozens of potential fighters squeezed into a small area, nearly tripping over one another but still managing to circle around Kalford’s corpse. Emma didn’t retreat though and headed straight for Kalford; more specifically, she headed straight for his spear, wrenching it from his death grip.