Siren's Fury (16 page)
He releases the table.
“Interesting words spoken from the woman who chose not to withhold her Elemental mercy from many loved ones missing from this room. Alas, I promise you’re soon to discover mercy and death are often the same.” He waves at the injured man, now spitting up blood, and commands the boy, “Finish it.” He twitches his fingers at the guards behind me.
The straight blade comes down with a repulsive thud.
I look away only to realize the soldiers’ blades are poking into my back. “You’ll join us in the corridor,” one snarls. “Alone,” he adds when Myles begins to rise.
I clamp my gaze on the lord protectorate oaf and slide my knife back into its makeshift sheath. Myles’s glare is asking what the hulls I’ve just done because not only did I fail to save anyone, I may have
doomed the rest of them. I don’t blame him. Of all people, I should know that compassion without the power to change anything is futile. Is dangerous.
Stumbling to the door amid the angry guards and daggers, I glance back to see Draewulf’s expression. Instead of gloating, he’s wincing. And when I trail my gaze to the hand resting on his chest, I see it belongs to Isobel.
She grins and blows me a kiss right as the door opens and I’m pushed through.
“No!” I cry out, but the metal shuts in place behind me.
“You’ve been invited to Bron by special request of Lord Myles,” one of my Faelen bodyguards says in my face. “Do you realize what those people think of you? What they could do to you?”
“Her being here is already an offense,” growls a Bron soldier. “She’s lucky we didn’t just cut her down then and there.”
Their irritable words—they keep tumbling out, swirling around reproachful faces that are all glaring and yelling at me.
I snap. “Look, King Eogan obviously allowed me to come, so I will take it up with him. Now let me back in there.”
“Believe me,
we
took it up with him,” Sir Gowon’s elderly voice says, slipping out from a door nearby us.
He steps forward and the soldiers fall silent. I’m surprised there’s not smoke wisping from his nose for how obviously he’s fuming. He looks at the Faelen guard closest me. “Your girl here needs to understand that most of the Assembly in there see her as a threat and an affront. Yes, our king has allowed her to be here, but if she wants to stay alive, she’ll need to behave like the rest of your delegates. What she did in there is not acceptable, and if she repeats it again I will personally see her punished.”
My guard frowns. “We understand perfectly, sir. It won’t happen again.”
“But the delegates are in danger. I have to—”
“The delegates are safe, and I suggest you do your part to see they stay that way,” Sir Gowon snarls at me. “Which, right now, means refraining from flouting our tradition or aggravating our Assembly further while you’re here.”
I try to jerk free. “And perhaps your guards should refrain from aggravating me.”
The large Bron soldier who searched me earlier leans down until he’s level with my face. He looks angrier than seems warranted, as if I’ve provoked him personally.
Sir Gowon slides his hand between us. “That’s enough. The king wants her left unharmed.” He looks at me fully now with those cold eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll be spared watching the harm you’ve caused.”
He snaps his fingers and two other soldiers grab my arms as he turns to my Faelen guards. “She’ll watch the boy’s punishment. You’re welcome to attend with her, which I’m certain you’ll insist on anyway.”
Without waiting for their reply, he steps toward the room he emerged from and through which the sound of lashing is suddenly emitting. My stomach plunges.
Sir Gowon pushes it open, enters, and is followed by my Faelen soldiers. The large guard shoves my back and I stumble into a small, brightly lit barren room where Kel is kneeling in the center of the stark floor with his shirt off.
The edge of a thick metal whip is sliding off his shoulders, wielded by a tall, callous-looking Bron. And even with Kel’s head
down and eyes shut, I can see tears dripping off his cheeks. There’s no blood or broken skin but the bruises and welts appearing suggest the damage underneath might be worse than if there were.
“Stop!” I spring forward but the large guard stalls me with a hand to my chest.
“You want to make it worse?” he growls, but his furious expression is shaded with shame. All of their expressions are, in fact—aside from Sir Gowon’s.
The whip comes down again, bringing unbidden tears from my eyes.
No!
The lashing pulls no sound from him, and he sags forward even farther.
And I suddenly realize why he’s not screaming.
T
HE BOY’S PASSED OUT.
Sir Gowon wipes his sweaty brow with a kerchief. “That’s enough. Any more and he won’t survive.” He turns from the soldier inflicting Kel’s punishment and I swear his face has gone a bit gray.
“But sir—”
“I said that’s enough,” Sir Gowon barks.
“You’ve nearly killed him!” I curl my hand into a fist to call down the whole of a storm upon all of their blasted heads. When nothing happens I reach for one of my knives.
The large guard grabs my hand before I can yank the blade free.
“I think you mean
you’ve
nearly killed him,” Sir Gowon spits out. “Just by your being here. Clearly your influence has infected his reasoning.” He wipes his brow again and steps closer, his gaze narrowing. “I’ve no idea why you’ve come here, but seeing as King Ezeoha is the only reason you were allowed into Bron in the first place, let alone alive, I will respect that. Likewise I’ll ask you to respect our people and customs from now on or stay confined to your room and risk punishment. Is that clear?”
The big guard snorts. “If she so much as pulls out another dagger or rumbles the clouds above us, she won’t need a punishment. I will personally take her head off.”
Sir Gowon is glaring at me, but his words seem addressed to us both. “His Majesty has given an order, and the fact that he’s assigned the guards here to keep you alive means they will follow it. And the fact that he swears to me personally you are in no way a threat, means we are responsible to honor that trust even if we do not hold it ourselves.”
Gowon nods at the rest of the surrounding soldiers. “See her to her room.”
“But the boy.” I press toward Kel, who’s still passed out on the floor.
“That boy is not your concern. You should merely be grateful I am overseeing his punishment rather than another. The penalty for what he did back there is death. At least I have allowed him to live.”
I think I might throw up. I wipe my eyes.
“Guards.”
Stiffening, I push forward again, but this time toward Sir Gowon—and stare him straight in the face. “Before they take me, I have a message for you.”
He snorts and peers around.
“From Eogan.”
His brow goes up and I bend close enough that I can smell the old powder scent of Sir Gowon’s suit even as three swords aim at my neck in an instant. I lift both hands from my cloak and raise them in a nonthreatening stance. Sir Gowon stares at me with a look of intolerance.
“Eogan said to tell you Elegy 96 was his favorite,” I whisper.
“He also said to tell you he’s been taken over by Draewulf, and because of his block, they are sharing the same physical body.”
I’ve never seen a grown man grow so still that even his breathing ceases. To the point I’m hoping I may have caused a jolt to hit his brain and he’s just died standing there staring at me.
Ten heartpulses go by before the old man blinks, and I swear I can see the words trying to jumble into some form of making sense behind those repulsed, suspicious eyes that are asking if I’m mentally unhinged.
“He was taken over at the Keep,” I murmur. “You are aware Draewulf appeared there?”
The next moment he’s waving the guards to move in on me.
My voice rises. “Did you not just hear me say he’s dying? If you won’t believe me, then take me to him. I demand to speak to Eogan.”
“That’s not your choice to request.”
“I’m not requesting.”
“Do not mistake his protection of you as anything more, no matter what rumors have circulated regarding your status with him.” His tone is beyond biting as he tips his head and my guards grab my arms.
A Bron soldier stoops to take my knives, but Gowon stops him. “Let her keep them. Just because the king’s given orders doesn’t mean some won’t try to off her. No doubt she’ll need them before her stay here is over.”
The big guard scoffs too harsh. Too loud. “I’m surprised the assassins haven’t picked her off already.”
The old man nods and, turning to leave, tosses out at my men, “On that note, I’d strongly advise against her taking off or attempting to wander alone while you’re with us. There’s a black-market price on your girl’s head that’s worth more than all of Faelen.”
He exits the room and the door snaps shut behind him. The big man grabs my arm as I try to see past him to Kel as everything within me aches for him. “This way.”
Except before any of us can move, the door creaks open again and a voice hisses, “Excuse me, gentlemen. Perhapsss I can be of assistance in getting her there.”
G
OOD EVENING.” MYLES SALUTES THE LONE SOLDIER in front of us. “I’ve asked the captain here to attend me on the eleventh-hour roundsss.”
The man frowns and lifts the hilt of his sword from its sheath as I shoot a nervous glance at Myles, only to watch the air around him fluctuate again. Abruptly his dark-haired, pasty-skinned self has transformed into a Bron general. I shake my head. Blink. And look down as my own black cloak and female form are replaced by captain’s clothes and a boy’s physique.
The soldier releases his sword and straightens. Despite the perplexity crossing his features, he snaps his heels together. “Of course, sir. My apologies for not recognizing you.”
Myles nods and keeps his grip on my elbow as he steers me past the man and through the metal door to a spiraling case of stairs that descend.
As soon as the door shuts behind us, I peek down at myself again, focusing in until I see the edge of my cloak beneath the visual blur. And try not to allow the panic to seep up my throat.
“You’d be wise to quit ogling yourself and watch the stepsss.” Myles releases my arm to lead the way. “I didn’t pull you from a host of guards merely to watch you break your neck.”
“You keep turning me into a fourteen-year-old boy with sweaty hands.”
“Not nearly as fetching, I’ll admit. But less likely to invite questionsss.”
“What about that boy back there—the one Sir Gowon had punished? Do you think he’ll be okay?” Even thinking about it makes my heart hurt.
“Eventually. I suggest you concern yourself with minding your own business from now on.”
I shiver. What kind of society trains its children to kill and then punishes them when they don’t? Even for as broken as the laws are in Faelen and for as poorly as slaves are treated, they don’t
teach
violence. They don’t
require
it. “What about the delegates? Are they safe or—?”
“I doubt Draewulf’s foolish enough to do anything toward the delegatesss while the Bron Assembly is in turmoil over whether to trust him. At least not yet. Now would you please keep that despicable conscience of yours reined in while I try to remember the way?”
I bite my tongue and follow.
After a moment he peers back, as if surprised I’ve obeyed. He blinks. “Here, by the way.” The atmosphere around us both shimmers just before our façade of being a captain and general falls away, revealing our black hooded cloaks and Faelen clothes. He turns and descends faster.
I take the steps two at a time to keep up and try to refocus before my anger at the Bron soldiers and Gowon boils over for what they’ve just done to Kel. “So that’s how you do it—create a mirage out of air.”
He shrugs. “A mental mirage perhaps. It’s merely a matter of using words to manipulate the untrained mind.”
“But it worked on
me
.”
“Because you heard me suggest something as true to the guard. Thus, for a bit, you saw it as such.”
“Except I could see through it.”
His voice lowers. “Hmm. Yesss. Better than most. Still haven’t figured out how.”
“Can Rasha see through your mirages?”
His answer is simply a face contorted in irritation as he stops and waits for me at the staircase base. He opens another door, this one unguarded, and leads us into a hall lit by those same curious hanging lanterns.
“What do you think Rasha’s guards needed her for?” I whisper.
He snorts. “No idea, but let’s hope her royal wretchedness is putting those Luminescent curvesss to something sensually useful.”
I glare at him. “Don’t talk about her that way.” And walk faster to shove down my guilt that I’m doing the very thing she asked me not to. Not to mention I’ve no idea where she even is.
“Hmm. You’re in a rather testy mood tonight.”
“I just think that rather than being a pig about her, perhaps you could’ve used your abilities to help her. Or to help the man killed in that blood sport, or the boy Sir Gowon just had beaten, for that matter.”
“You and I both know that man was already dying—his opponent merely ended it quickly. And having spent your life as a Faelen slave, you should know better than most that people worship their own lawsss and tradition—and flouting them will always inflict a penalty.”
“Which is exactly why if I’d had my abilities, I would’ve stopped them both.”
“And started another war. As for
my
abilities, I prefer to keep them hidden as long as possssible, if you can manage that for the time being.”
“Nice justification.”
“Saysss the girl still keeping Draewulf alive.”
He halts in front of a door and waits for me to catch up before we’re slipping outside into a small moonlit alcove where two palace watchmen are standing. Even though I nudge the metal shut without a sound, they turn and peer in our direction, hands on their swords. I press against the wall in the overhang’s shadow, instinctively thinking to squat and feel around for a rock to toss in distraction. But Myles takes my elbow again and steps into the light.
