CYRIC:
Things were always different with Lox around, maybe not better, but simpler, and that’s how I liked them. Usually just the sight of him was enough to do this for me, but trailing through side-streets on Tosch and getting a glance now and then as his procession passed was having no effect. I knew he would have to speak with the King, going through the same ordeal of presenting spoils that I had, but it didn’t keep me from waiting for him at the foot of the palace.
I had Tosch taken back to the stables. A figure came to stand beside me.
“Playing aloof, Lieutenant?” Veera asked.
“Look who’s talking. Most of the handmaidens are already down there throwing tokens.” I gave her a cursory glance—up and down, head to foot, because I knew it would be something worth seeing. Veera normally was exceptional. Veera when Lox returned to Akadia was enough to drive men mad.
“I’m confident of my quarry,” she replied, arms crossed just as mine were. “What luck did you have on your quest?”
“Let’s just say Lox is as smart about myths as he is about war.”
She tried to hold back a smile, but she grew one all the same. “So long as he’s happy,” she said. And I had to smile too, because it was the first thing I’d thought when I’d found them.
#
The tributes weren’t as boring as they’d promised to be. First of all, they were short. Lox ran through them, promising so much to the King that he made no objections to a swift account of where they’d been won. Second, the moment Lox had seen me, he’d given me his full smile of approval, and after receiving Veera’s attentions, had called me to stand beside him throughout the length of the event.
Next Lox had called that a banquet be served: to give the King a chance to taste the delicacies of the eastern kingdoms, see their dancers, and hear their minstrels. The most notable spoil that Lox returned with was a prince. Prince Nain of Karatel. He’d been captured in a skirmish on the borders of Selket and Democedes, with none but a small guard. His identity was easily proven due to Karatel and Akadia’s close relation. This was not nearly his first visit to Akadia, though it would be his first bound in chains. He was one of the only ones allowed to remain once the party began. Ladies of court poked around him, flirted, tried to win his attention, but he responded to no one until Ellia approached him. She embraced him full-on, wrapping her arms around his torso while his were stretched out to the side, hung over a bar that rested on his shoulders. I wished then that Lox hadn’t asked after her and advised she’d be present, obligating me to send for Slark to retrieve her.
The guards watching Prince Nain just as soon pulled the two apart. Ellia’s eyes were full of tears. As they had been. Of course. As they had been.
It was not enough to bother my mood. The party ended. Princes and Princesses alike were sent where they belonged and I was the only one invited back to the quarters of the honored Commander and his lady.
“Vermillion Birds,” Lox repeated, with great delight, my papers of star-charts and maps spread before him. The main space of Lox’s quarters was already back to its many-colored shades of light, but it was bright enough around the couches where we sat. “I should have guessed it to be the fourth. I think I feared so much that we’d discover the chimera were the final creatures.”
“As much as Shaundakulians like to talk about their connection with Yanartas, I saw only a handful of them amidst the star-maps in Uldin Keep. It doesn’t seem that they have anything to do with the Constellation Animals.”
“I would like to see one of the White Tigers,” Veera said, picking out a picture of the large, Byakoan animal.
Lox said nothing to this, instead he leafed through more pages of evidence. I’d drawn replicas of the granted temple’s constellations, not the whole things of course, just the spaces around the animals, with their respective countries.
“I thought that the tigers would be the easiest to reach,” I told Lox. “Especially now that you say we’re so close to defeating Selket.”
I didn’t want to go to retrieve the animals myself—if Lox did indeed decide to invade the kingdoms to win their creatures, or whatever he planned to do. I had hopes to return to Ghaund, where the battles were constant, and every ride through the mountain passes distractingly dangerous.
“Were there any signs of dragons when you returned to Shaundakul?” Lox asked. “Any credence to the myths that they might be reborn should they die out?”
“I saw a lot of azure, in the palace and in the ruins around the Keep, as I told you before. There’s no doubt that they’re the eastern constellation animal,… but there wasn’t any evidence of new dragons.”
I had never thought there would be. Even if the myth about them being born were true, I wouldn’t have thought there would be.
“Besides, did you ever see King Savras’s dragon? Blue and turquoise, thin streaks of white and yellow, it looked just like azure. And the others were the same only in different shades.”
“Yes, I’ve observed this,” Lox mused.
Veera frowned. “I suppose I’m the only one who hasn’t seen a dragon. Or any of the constellation animals at that.”
“Well, the tortoises aren’t far from Taelp,” I said to cheer her.
“Tortoises,” she repeated bleakly, “how lucky my people are.”
I laughed at her intended sarcasm and she joined me, but Lox stopped the both us with the rise of his hand.
“Veera, go take a bath, won’t you,” he said with distraction, “You look as if you could use the rest. I’ll join you before long.”
It took a second for me to register what he’d said and once I had Veera was standing up, tip-toeing off towards the washroom that contained Lox’s great bath. I didn’t know why I felt uneasy as I watched her go. Lox quickly drew my attention.
“How goes the state of Akadia?” he asked me, setting down his papers.
I was glad for such a question. A question of war, and training, and things I knew, not myths and Shaundakul. A question that would lead to my request to leave for battle.
“The new recruits are training well. Of course Scanth fell short on some points, but a division of them might be ready to leave soon. Their greatest weakness is in armor, most of them are too used to cloth or leather to carry metal.”
“I mean rather the state of the government,” Lox interrupted. “How go relations between the king and council? How has the king responded to the princess?”
I felt an actually knot of disappointment. “Should I tell you of the behemoths first?”
He waved a hand. “Now that I’m here, I’ll take control of that matter. I plan to go underground tomorrow, I’ll be briefed.” He lifted his brows only slightly to prod me on.
I thought about how to broach it. “The council and Molec took well to the spoils from Selket. Many openly say they would rather you be allowed to maintain command continually. At least six councilmen I know for sure would support it. Palum remains defiant to the foreigners and now Laxley joins him… Molec was pleased with the princess, but disappointed that you had given her to me. He called her once to the palace while I was outside the city, they were alone, but whatever they talked about must have displeased him. He didn’t want her attending banquets after that.”
“Could they have formed an alliance?”
I shook my head. “She’d been just as upset with him.”
Lox mulled this over. I thought about something else. Not the princess who cried too easily. The princess with whom Slark had so freely shared the stories of my murders.
“Now that you’ve returned,” I broke in, “I should leave for Ghaund? I’ve heard that the wyverns are even more constrained to the mountains.”
“There’s no doubt things aren’t going as well as when you were present,” Lox agreed. He considered the papers spread out before him. “I will tell you tomorrow what I decide. For now enjoy a night at least without command and without duty.” His gaze turned to the washroom, an expression in his features that told me I would not be wanted here much longer.
This didn’t matter. Tomorrow he would tell me I could go to Ghaund, or Democedes, or Selket, or at worst Byako where I might have to investigate the White Tigers. But no matter what I would be gone. Just one more night. Nothing could happen in just one night to stop me.
ELLIA:
Lieutenant Marcus Raand, Lieutenant Let Jaxom, Lord Councilman Altin Sersk. These were the names of the men that Cyric had killed; based on the accounts of the servants that had been present, the logical evidence of Cyric’s appointment to Lieutenant, and the perpetual absence of all three men from Akadia. It had been my sole mission at Lox’s banquet to discover if Slark had spoken true or not and now I was forced to accept that he had.
Cyric had killed. Cyric had murdered. Cyric had killed men that had not been guilty of the thing that he had killed them for. But perhaps he hadn’t killed them for any reason besides his own gain anyways.
I had seen Prince Nain at Lox’s banquet and it had been both a grief and a comfort to me. A grief, of course, that he had been captured; a comfort because Nain was a good man, and it had been a long time since I felt I’d seen a good man. He had been travelling with only a small group between the eastern kingdoms, careless prince that he was, but thankfully Selkie had been in Yanartas. He’d told me news of the kingdoms, he’d told me how they regretted disbelieving the Cirali Warrior that had come claiming she was Savras’s daughter—for now all the kingdoms had heard of my Akadian capture and the magic crown which proved me.
This news had made me only more determined to do what I knew that I must.
I lay in my bed of pillows and soft blankets, staring up at the dark ceiling and putting everything into keeping my breathing steady.
So that I could hear. So that I would not give myself away.
The distant calls of soldiers and celebration had ceased sometime after Cyric had returned. He’d undressed and gone to bed and by my count had been asleep for hours now.
I braved lifting my head up off my pillow and nearly fainted for the rush it gave me, my breathing came sharper. I forced it away. I squeezed my knife-hilt tightly, pressed as it was against my torso, then I sat up and looked across the room. The air was cool outside my blankets, I wore only a nightgown for I had not wanted to give myself away by remaining dressed.
I fixed the knife more comfortably in my grip. I thought of Lucian, teaching me to fight first with a wooden knife, promising me that if I could harm with that than I could harm with anything. Lucian who was brotherless. Because his brother had been murdered. Murdered by a murderer. A murderer like Cyric.
I moved forward. The way was long and dark, only a soft glow of the greyish color that came from the sky outside. It was the type of darkness Cyric would not be able to see in and as I neared the bed I comforted myself with this fact.
I drew breath at the sight of him, he was still so full of life, even asleep. He lay on his back and his blankets covered him; I could see my stone of magic at his chest which rose and fell as if the heart beneath held no burdens.
I felt the knife shake in my grip and I steadied it. I gathered together all the deaths and pain that I knew to call on. I drew upon Kraehe, and I drew upon Luffie, and I drew upon Tobias. This is a murderer, I chanted to myself. This is a murderer and I do not know him.
I crawled onto the bed carefully, for I would not be able to reach him otherwise. He did not stir. I put my knife to his throat. There was no way he could stop me now. He slept with no weapon, he had no defense against my blade. It was all just one thing left for me to do.
He spoke without opening his eyes.
“Do it.”
I gasped; my strength fell and built in succession. I would have thought I dreamt his words if they hadn’t been so clear, his lips had barely moved. I put both of my hands on the knife-hilt.
“You’re a murderer,” I said, for my benefit, not his.
He opened his eyes. They were unfocused, then bright and direct on mine as if I was the only thing he could see. “It should be easy to kill me then.”
“You’ll only hurt. You’ll never be good.”
“I won’t change,” he confirmed. It made me shudder. I pressed in closer. My blade drew blood. It made me gasp and I realized in an instant that I would not be able to do what I must; but this did not mean that I couldn’t escape. I reached one hand for my dispel stone. Before I could touch it, he grabbed my shoulders.
“If you want it, you’ll have to kill me,” he said. Then he shook me in a jerk that caused my knife to press even deeper into his neck. “Do it, Ellia.”
I held my breath, locking my emotions away. I willed and willed my hands to push down. He waited, his chest barely rising to show fear, if he felt any at all. His expression grew angry and he squeezed me tighter, then he swung me around into the bed. Now I was beneath and him above, my knife still at his throat, his hands still on my shoulders, and my stone hanging between us. In the suddenness of the movement I thought I could almost make myself—
But something changed in his expression. Something changed in every way he was touching me. His anger was gone. I felt a knot build in my stomach. Without taking his eyes from mine, he released the shoulder of my knife-arm. He moved his hand instead to my side. He touched tentively at first, then he clutched harder and pulled me to him, and he pushed his neck down into my blade, further and further, until he had bridged the space between our lips. He kissed deeply and unreservedly. I felt resistance in myself, for moments, seconds, of a grade so weak that it did not lead me to push him away. And then my knife-hand fell away, and I heard the metal clash to floor. And he pulled me closer. And I could not resist and I could only think that I wanted every part of him, whether it was good or bad, or murdering or hateful.
But then it wasn’t seconds before that didn’t matter. For like this I could see him. And what I saw was pure and gentle, and most of all good.
I moved my lips away just enough to speak. “I don’t believe you killed them,” I said.
First he made to kiss me again, but then he must have grasped my words because he stopped all that he was doing and went very still. I opened my eyes, his were golden and bright; his chest wasn’t calm any longer, even his breaths were overwrought. I could still see the goodness in him. Then his eyes turned dark, and he pulled away from me, jumped almost. I gasped from the shock of it.
He walked until he stumbled into a table, but he only rose again, then found the door. I was in such a state of shock, not just for what he’d done, but also for my own words, that it wasn’t until he opened the door that I found my voice.
“Please, wait,” I called.
But he did not.