CHAPTER 22

There had to be another explanation.

King Damien stood at a window ignoring the sounds of Rhaxma’s party. His eyes never strayed from the girl as she cared for his wounded weapon. So kind and gentle. But those colors . . . they were dangerous.

He watched as Tovi summoned nearby loiterers to carry Eryx home, but she stayed behind. She stood alone in the middle of the courtyard, looking so small, her gaze slowly swiveling from Rhaxma’s party to Calix’s home to Eryx being carted across the open expanse.

She took hesitant steps to follow after Eryx, but then she paused. After another moment and a few glances back toward the party, she seemed to make up her mind and walked briskly toward Calix’s house.

As soon as she disappeared, Damien excused himself from the party and went home escorted by half of his guards. His son and grandson stayed behind with the rest.

“I was not expecting this,” he muttered to himself, walking toward a certain place along the wall of his hidden corridor. Tovi had caught him completely off guard, and he hoped he had sufficiently masked his shock. The last thing he needed was for the Masters on that balcony to feel his mix of speculation and panic.

There had to be another explanation. He paced, searching for any plausible reason for those colors. Navy blue hair. Brown eyes with a little purple star.

It was a coincidence, he assured himself. It had to be. Tovi’s colors were exactly the same as the young man in the mural, but that didn’t mean anything. And those colors matched someone else from his past, someone he thought was gone.

Now as he looked at the mural, he knew that his denial couldn’t keep up with the mounting evidence.

There had been too much recently. Too many pieces falling into place.

Just recently he had learned of the blue-haired man’s name and location. Finally, one of his spies had spotted him going in and out of the caves in the foothills, dangerously close to the northern entrance to the mines. His name was Tali. Tali was from Adia. Tovi was from Adia. They must know one another. Unless there was another explanation . . .

Tali.

He stopped in front of the four painted faces and stared at him. So, his name was Tali. The face in the mural had plagued him for so long that it was hard to accept such a simple name.

Tali.

Tali. He said it out loud and hated the way it rolled off his tongue.

Tali was wandering in the forest, so close to this mountain. Too close. Then this young woman appears, the target of more than one of his weapons. And her hair and eyes happened to match Tali’s. But there were no women in the mural with that coloring. Surely it couldn’t be . . .

He shook his head and didn’t allow himself to think about that night twenty years ago. There had to be another explanation. There had to.

He walked out of the corridor and into the bright throne room, blinking several times. One of his generals was waiting for him. Damien did not sit down. Instead, he motioned for the middle-aged warrior to follow behind him. As they walked out of the throne room Damien asked, “How quickly could we mobilize the troops?”

“That would depend on our mission, Your Majesty. Will we be gone long? Lengthier trips require more preparation.”

“Yes, that is true,” he pondered. “I have a matter of urgency, and we will need everyone we can spare. They may need to camp below the clouds if they can’t complete the task in one day. Prepare them with haste. I want an immediate report when you are ready.”

“And what are the orders?”

They reached a large library. All four walls were hidden by leather-bound books in perfect rows. A large, ornate table stood in the center of the room and was covered in writing tools, ink, and ledgers. Damien pushed all this aside and unrolled a large map of the mountain and the lands surrounding it.

“Descend through the mines and exit through the northern gate. Once you are in the foothills, organize into small search parties. Leave no stone unturned,” he said, gesturing with fluid motions. “You are looking for a young man with dark blue hair and brown eyes. There is a purple star on his left iris. He answers to the name Tali.”

“Do you want him alive?”

“Preferably. But if not, his body will suffice.”

The general gave a curt nod and left the room.

Damien stood over the map. His flattened kingdom was in the very middle. A novice map reader might not realize it was a mountain at all, as the markings for elevation were nothing more than irregular tick marks along the edges of the zones that spread out like the rings of a lopsided bull’s-eye.

The mountain was surrounded by dense forest. Adia lay to the southwest, along with several winding valleys and rivers. The sea was southeast, and there were foothills and caves to the north. Beyond the foothills stretched prairie that faded into desert. But his people rarely travelled that far.

Damien’s dream had always been to subdue the mountain, which he had accomplished quite successfully. He had always hoped that his heirs’ ambitions would lead them to tame the wild lands beyond the blanket of cloud, that one day the entire known world would be under his legacy’s command.

His fingers traced a river that wound from the western edge of the map through Adia. After several meandering curves and a large loop south of the mountain, it eventually came to the sea. There used to be streams on the mountain. Clear streams of clean water rushing down toward the valleys and pooling in bright blue lakes that reflected the sun and sky.

Damien lost himself in memories of his boyhood. He remembered the feel of grass under his bare feet, the sight of trees reaching up toward the sky with waving leaves greeting the birds of the air. An image of his mother came to mind, her perfect purple curls framing her laughing face. She was sitting under a blossoming cherry tree reading her favorite book, the binding well creased, and some of the gold lettering worn away from the cover. He could smell the fragrance of the flowers, feel the warmth of the sun.

He shook his head violently, willing the depths of his mind to recapture that wandering thought and hide it away. Those had been evil days of idleness. It was before his epiphanies. It was before he shared his ideas with the people, gaining support and power until he finally ruled the mountain. Through his dedication to his system, he had finally harnessed the masses.

He sighed deeply and sat in an overstuffed chair, still gazing at the map.

What to do about the girl? There had to be another explanation.