30

An Ugly Outcome

The Council Chamber door closed behind them – a thud echoing in the silent room. Quinn stared in shock, the scene before her one of horror.

Blood pooled on the floor beside two servants, wide-eyed, staring at nothing. The gashes across their throats made it clear those stares were permanent as if they witnessed their next life waiting. This one had certainly ended.

General Kardan lay near the two servants, his tongue swollen and black, his eyes also locked in a death stare. The man’s chair sat behind him, empty. His soup was spilled on the floor, the spoon still in the man’s hand.

Council members occupied the eight thrones along the length of the room, many of the men slouching with their necks bent in an odd manner. All their tongues were black and swollen like the general’s. Two of the men had spilled their chowder, one on his lap, the other on the floor where the man’s spoon rested. Quinn processed all of this in a moment but was unable to tear her gaze from the throne at the far end of the room.

Varius stared at her with a face twisted in pain. A blackened tongue stuck out from her lips, her skin pallid. Like many of the others, foam and spittle covered the front of her shirt. Quinn stared hard, waiting for the woman to move.

Quinn’s gaze shifted toward Brandt, their eyes meeting. She knew he was thinking the same thing. What did you do, Delvin?

Iko cried out, “Mother!” and ran across the room.

He knelt beside Varius and held her hand with a spoon still in its grip. His hand ran through her hair as tears tracked down his cheeks. Despite Quinn’s anger toward him for how she had been treated since her capture, a tear of sympathy slipped down her cheek.

“Mother, please,” Iko begged. “Please don’t be dead.”

Wiping his face with the back of his sleeve, he looked across the room toward where Quinn stood, along with Brandt and the two cavalrymen who had escorted them from Yarth.

“You,” Iko growled as he stood upright and glared at Quinn. “You had something to do with this.”

He stomped across the room, drawing his sword in the process, his glare seething. Leveling his blade at Quinn’s heart, he held it inches away.

“Remove their gags.”

The two soldiers responded instantly and began to untie the cloth from the two prisoners. With her mouth free, Quinn gasped and spit and worked her jaw. Her throat was dry from having it forced open for hours with little water to quench it.

“What do you know about this?” Iko demanded.

Quinn looked at Varius and shook her head. “I am sorry, Iko. I had no idea.”

“Lies!”

He extended the sword until the tip pressed against her sternum. She refused to flinch or acknowledge the pain although she felt blood track down her stomach.

His face twisted in a snarl. “I am through with your lies!”

Quinn shook her head. “This is not a lie, Iko,” she said in earnest. “Not this time. I did not know, and if I had, I would have stopped it.”

Iko’s entire body shook, his jaw clenching. With a flick, he ran the sword point across Quinn’s tunic, slicing the fabric and her skin as he focused on a new target.

With his blade leveled at Brandt’s throat, Iko asked again. “What do you know?”

Brandt’s eyes flicked toward Quinn and back to Iko. “I…I don’t know anything. Not about this.”

Iko closed his eyes, clearly frustrated. A long moment passed before he opened them, spun, and slid his sword into the scabbard.

“Fetch the guards outside the door.” Iko’s voice sounded cold – emotionless. “We will lock down the citadel and find the assassin. When we do, I’ll make him wish he had never been born.”

As commanded, the man hurried to the door, opened it and lurched back as a sword emerged from his back. As the blade was withdrawn, the man crumpled to the floor to reveal Delvin standing in the doorway. Delvin’s thrown knife buried deep into the throat of the other soldier, who fell to his knees and clawed at it as blood gurgled from his mouth.

“Assassin!” Iko shrieked his eyes flaming with hatred.

Iko drew his sword and launched himself toward the door. Desperate but still bound, Quinn swung her leg out, kicking Iko’s shin hard and hooking his ankle as he passed by. With a grunt, he crashed to the floor and slid across the tiles. Brandt scrambled toward Iko and kicked his hand, knocking the sword free. As Iko’s blade spun toward the open door, Delvin leaped over it and then lunged out with a kick. The toe of his boot connected with Iko’s face, the force snapping his head backward and likely shattering an eye socket. Delvin raised his sword, ready to deliver the killing blow.

“No!” Quinn shouted. “Delvin! Don’t kill him!”

Delvin held his blade ready as he glared down at Iko, who stared up at the sword while blood ran down his face, his brow and cheek torn open.

“What good can come of allowing him to live?” Delvin asked. “This is the Archon’s son.”

Quinn walked toward her mentor, pleading. “I know him well enough to know there is good in him.” She glanced toward the dead leaders, slumped over in their thrones. “Thus far, he has been a pawn to his mother and the Empire. Varius and the Council will pull his strings no longer.” She turned back toward Delvin, meeting his gaze for a moment. “You have seen to that.”

Delvin frowned, his eyes shifting from Iko to Quinn and back. “What do you suggest we do with him?”

She moved closer and gazed down at Iko, who glared at Delvin with unmasked hatred in his eyes, one of which was blood red. “We tie him up and gag him, as he has done to us.” You deserve that much, Iko, Quinn thought. We’ll see how you like it. “And leave him here until he is found.”

After a moment of consideration, Delvin grimaced at Iko and shook his head. “Sorry about this.”

With a hard kick, Delvin’s boot slammed into Iko’s face. Iko rolled onto his side and held his head as he groaned in pain.

“Turn around,” Delvin said as he gestured toward Quinn.

As requested, Quinn turned her back to him, felt a blade slip between her wrists, and the rope fell away. Quinn rubbed at her raw wrists and rotated her arms to loosen her sore shoulders. She turned to see Delvin with his sword ready and a dagger in his other hand. I wonder where he keeps those knives. The tear across Iko’s forehead was twice as bad as before, the lump beneath it an angry red. His eye was bloody, purple and swollen.

“Use the rope to bind him. There should be enough remaining from what I cut away,” Delvin said.

Quinn knelt and tied the rope around Iko’s wrist before tying it to the other. When she finished, Delvin moved to Brandt and cut his wrists free.

As Quinn had done, Brandt rubbed his wrists and nodded to Delvin. “It feels great to be freed. Thanks.”

“Why, Delvin?” Quinn asked.

Delvin squatted and pulled his dagger from the dead guard’s throat before wiping it and the sword on the man’s clothing. “You know why.”

“Did you have to kill them all?”

He inspected the blades in his hands as he stood. “Don’t be so naïve, Quinn. Did you really believe there was any other outcome? These people wanted anyone like your boyfriend dead.” Delvin pointed his dagger toward Brandt. “Every single one. They would commit genocide for no reason other than their fear of magic and the power it holds. In the end, it was us or them. I saw an opening, so I took a shortcut. We are now free of their thirst for conquest and their desire to control our lives. In the end, the world will be better for it.”

Delvin’s statement hit upon the very conundrum Quinn had been facing for months. She had desperately sought another outcome, but the solution had eluded her. Despite despising the ideals the Empire stood for, Quinn did not wish Varius and the others dead, so she had made every effort to stop them without reaching this end. Those efforts had only delayed what Delvin declared as inevitable. Perhaps it was, she admitted to herself.

Delvin extended the sword toward Quinn. “If your conscience is satisfied, tie his ankles, gag him, and let’s be off.”

Quinn accepted the sword without another word. Brandt gagged and bound Iko as she looked on with troubled thoughts. Despite how angry she had been with Iko during the journey to Sol Polis, she now found herself feeling sorry for him.

“I need a favor, Brandt,” she said. “Are you able to heal right now?”

He shrugged. “Sure. Give me your hand.”

Quinn shook her head. “Not me.” She pointed toward Iko. “Him.”

Brandt frowned. “Why?”

Quinn growled. “Just do it, Brandt.”

“Will you two hurry?” Delvin peered out into the receiving hall while standing over the dead soldier in the doorway. “There’s no telling when someone will find the mess out here.”

Brandt reached for Iko, who flinched and jerked away. Grimacing, Brandt grabbed Iko’s wrist and closed his eyes. The magic took hold, healing the wounds on Iko’s forehead and eye, leaving only dried blood on his face. Iko’s body shook with a chill and Brandt stood.

“He’ll be crazy hungry, but I consider it poetic justice since he didn’t feed us all day.”

“Enough chat. We leave. Now.” Delvin darted out of the room.

Quinn and Brandt exited to the main hall, where two more corpses waited. Ydith had an ugly gash across her hand, the surrounding skin blackened. Her tongue was black and swollen as was Tarshall’s, who had a similar cut across his thigh. Blackbane, same as the others, Quinn thought. Delvin poisoned his blade before he attacked them. A scratch is all it took for them to die.

The three of them ran for the side door, into a long corridor, and stopped at the door that led outside. Before Delvin could open the door, Quinn gripped his wrist.

“There is a guard just outside.”

Delvin’s brow furrowed and then he smiled. “Step into the doorway when you hear the signal” Without another word, he burst out the door, panting hysterically. “They broke free and they’re after me!”

“What?” Quinn heard Berd reply, “Who is after you?”

“The spies! They killed everyone! Look out, here they come!”

Quinn glanced at Brandt, who shrugged and jumped into the doorway in a menacing manner. With her sword in the lead, Quinn stood beside him.

The rain had become a downpour. Berd stood two strides outside the door with his back to Delvin. The big man’s eyes grew wide when Quinn appeared. He drew his sword, stiffened, and fell to his knees. Delvin put one foot against Berd’s back and yanked the dagger from the guard’s neck. The man toppled over and twitched briefly before falling still.

“Did you have to kill him, too?” Quinn asked while staring down at the dying guard.

“Oh, please, Quinn. This is us or them. Escape or die.”

Delvin spun and ran through the rain toward the gate with Quinn and Brandt close behind.

Sergeant Marissa and two male guards Quinn didn’t know stood just outside the bars, both facing away from her as they attempted to huddle beneath wet cloaks. Delvin slowed to a creep as Quinn and Brandt did the same. He then gestured toward Marissa and the guard on the left while he snuck up behind the guard on the right.

Quinn gathered her will, knowing she had little choice. Escape or die, she told herself. She imagined thrusting her sword between the bars, the blade skewering Marissa in the back. Repulsed, Quinn lifted the sword high and slammed down hard, the pommel striking the woman’s helmet with a loud clang. Marissa collapsed to the cobblestones.

Brandt had one arm around a guard’s neck, the man struggling until Delvin stabbed him. The guard then slid down the gate bars until he was sitting. Brandt let the man go before he and Delvin turned toward Quinn.

“That was loud,” Brandt noted.

“Exactly.” Delvin growled. “It will be a miracle if nobody heard you.” Anger was thick in Delvin’s voice. “What were you thinking? The woman’s back was facing you. Why not just stab her and be done with it?”

Quinn glared back in defiance. “I’ll not murder an innocent person. Killing her was not my mission.”

Delvin turned to Brandt. “Is she serious?”

“Yeah.” Brandt put his arm around her and grinned as rain ran down his face. “Makes you love her even more, doesn’t it?”

With the shake of his head, Delvin opened the gate. “You two will be the death of me.”

He led them out into the quiet square, past the glowlamp at the corner, and down a dark city street. At the first intersection, they joined a group of sailors returning to the docks, melting in with the cluster at a nonchalant pace.

Quinn knew Delvin. He had a plan and would get them out of Sol Polis. Her time in Kalimar was finished, and it was time to go home.

I’ll see you soon, Everson, she thought. Please stay safe.