The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price (63 page)

It was a decent plan. At least, it had been. If I’d kept my cool instead of losing it over Neela, I might have managed to strike a deal with Draken. Now that I’d fucked everything up, all I could hope was that I’d bleed out before my father found out what I’d done.

“Let them go,” I said. It was futile at this point, but I still tried. “Release Neela and Jarryd, and you can have me and the piece that completes the crown.”

“I already have you. And them.” Draken scooped up the obsidian so fast sand sprayed us both. “And now I have the stone.” He clenched it tight in his grip. “I hope you enjoy pain, Troy, because I have waited a very long time to personally cut that flip tongue from your mouth.”

“Yet you don’t. You hole up in Darkhorne, hiding under Reth’s skirt.”

“And you hide behind the truth,” he snarled. “Your soul is as black as those streaks in your hair. Just like your father.”

Bent, weak and trembling, I shouted at him, “I am not my father! If I could drain Jem Reth’s blood out of me, I would do so right now.”

“What a lovely idea. But it’s not really your father’s blood that concerns me.”

I opened my mouth to reply, and toppled over.

Suddenly, the sun was too bright. My eyes were too heavy.

“Fetch our guest a drink,” Draken said, glancing over his shoulder. “Until recently, Troy,” he looked back at me, “I had no idea you were such a prize. The gods themselves must have guided Jem’s seed the night he lay down with V’loria. Or, your people’s loins are simply more finicky than we thought.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Blood, I believe.”

Neela interrupted. Coming over with a metal jug in her hand, she sat down and lifted my head onto her lap. The sour wine she offered turned my stomach, but I was so parched, as she put the jug to my mouth, I pulled in great gulps.

Gently, her hand smoothed the hair off my forehead. “Forgive me,” she said.

There was way too much guilt in her voice.

Swallowing, I looked at her. It was on her face too.

I pushed the wine away. “You wanted me to follow you. You led me here,” I said, louder as it started to make sense. “You led me to
him
.”

“I had no choice.”

“Like hell you didn’t.”

“The cost of harboring you was a hundred Rellan lives a day. I couldn’t.…” her voice cracking, Neela shrugged regretfully. “After the cave, when I woke up in the castle, there was a dispatch from Draken insisting on your confinement. He made the consequences quite clear. I wanted them to take you when you were still unconscious. It would have been easier that way. But Draken maintained you must give up the stone freely. He said we had to find your,” her lips trembled, “breaking point.” Neela tried to shake off her distress. “In any case, I had to get you out of Kabri. Malaq would never have let me turn you over.”

Relief dulled the pain. “Malaq isn’t part of this?”

“My cousin truly believed he could keep you safe in Kabri. But I’ve felt what’s inside you, Ian. I knew you couldn’t let me go.” Neela dipped her head down to rest against mine. “Life will be different for you now. But Draken has promised you will be well cared for.” I choked on my amusement and she sat up. “My husband will honor our agreement, Ian. He signed an accord.”

I full out laughed then, until the pain was such that I couldn’t breathe.

Dismayed, Neela said again, adamantly, “He signed an accord.”

“Great,” I said, gasping. “Then I have nothing to worry about.”

As doubt clouded her eyes, Draken reached down and yanked Neela to her feet. “Hands off the new slave, love.” He removed the crown from his head and gave it to her. “Go,” he said, shoving her away. “Take this inside and wait for me.”

Neela didn’t argue. She walked off and didn’t look back, and I found a kind of twisted comfort in the ignorance that was coming.
At least I won’t know. Draken can do what he likes with her. He can destroy the world and I won’t have to know. I won’t have to care what he does.

Or what I’ve done.

“They kept the truth from you,” Draken said, hovering. “It’s what they do. Raynan, Aylagar, my wife. They were all terrified of what knowledge would make you become. Of what would happen if you found out how long and deep the betrayal ran. But there’s no harm now. What anger you can manage will fade with the
Kayn’l
.” Studying me, his eyes flashed. “Do you know what your mother’s greatest flaw was?”

I winced through a shrug. “Bad taste in men?”

“Trust,” he sneered. “V’loria believed every lie the Rellans told her. She thought she was a simple village girl with a family. She believed herself a healer because she was raised by a healer. She was trained as one. Told her name designated her as one. The poor woman never sought to be anything more.”

“My mother was…she…” my thoughts flew away. I tried to gather them back. “She had a sister.” The details escaped me. My awareness kept pausing and starting.

“Your mother had no siblings. V’loria was given to that family to bring up as their own. I have no doubt they were well compensated. Seeing as they were caring for an erudite.”

“What? No…” I struggled to speak, to keep up, but I was like grains of sand on a beach, helpless to fight the waves as they swept up and out, carrying pieces of me away.

“When your father found the records of V’loria’s birth and discovered her true lineage, how the Rellans had covered it up, the lies they spun…it all made sense then. The uproar her pregnancy created, the reason the Arcana’s let you live—your correlation to the crown. But it was quite a blow. All that power he wasted when he killed her. Then he realized what it meant for you. He realized what you are.”

“I’m…” I couldn’t say it. “I can’t be.”

“Oh, but you are,” Draken smiled hungrily. “An erudite line trumps all others, so breeding with them only ends one way. Yet, it appears, the few, erudite babes born since the empire fell, were all female. A male child, such as you, is rare and valuable indeed.”

“No. I carry a soldier’s blood,” I said, shoving the words out. “That’s what I am. That’s all I am.”

“The crown is turning your father into something quite frightening, Troy, but not you. An erudite was its creator. It recognizes that distinction in you. That’s why Reth sent his pretty, pale witch to you in Kael. He whipped up an allurement spell, gave Sienn a false vision that you two were fated. He was hoping nature would take its course.”

“Why?”

“Why would Reth care if you fucked her?” Draken bent down and cuffed me in the head. “Pay attention! He was hoping to create that which hadn’t
existed in over five hundred years. A child with limitless magical potential. A child of two erudite. Your child, Troy,” he said, hitting me again. “Yours and Sienn’s.” He backed off. “But you couldn’t even do that right.” Draken dangled the obsidian shard in my face. “You’re going to tell your father how to fix the Crown of Stones. And I wouldn’t disappoint him. He’s not too happy with you right now.” With a jerk of his head, he said, “Take him. Before he passes out and pisses himself on my doorstep.”

Soldiers surrounded me. They pried the sword from my hand, picked up my feet, and dragged me away. The dry ground seemed to rush by forever. Sun burned in my open wounds. Dust piled up in my throat and eyes. My head, bouncing on the ground, was pounding by the time we stopped.

Abruptly, my captors jerked me up straight. They slammed my back against a fence post, shoved a fist in my stomach, and I was back on the ground.

A bucket of water in my face later, they were tying me to the post. I didn’t fight it. I was grateful for the ropes to hold me up because I couldn’t. Everything around me was distorted and blurry. The shouting in the pen behind me sounded miles away. One of the prisoners, a small child, pushed his head through the fence and stared up at me. Smudge-faced and skinny, his vacant eyes were somber. He watched the soldiers tear open my shirt and press a thick, black paste into the wound on my side. I screamed, and his expression went unchanged.

They pressed in more. Blood bubbled out with the pressure. It mixed with the
Kayn’l
and streaked black over my skin.

“Disgraceful,” a man said.

Blinking, I looked at him. Standing off to the side, his white, angry gaze peered out from inside the hood of his cloak. His hands protruded from the garment’s long sleeves and the flesh that covered them was a murky blend of twisted color that was in no way natural.

I shrunk when he came near me.

Grabbing a handful of hair, he yanked my head up. “Idiots,” he scolded, glancing behind him. “I wanted him coherent.” Whipping back around to me, the man’s hood fell off. He was bald underneath and his head, face, and neck were mottled in a swirling chaos of ugly, muddy hues. They were like his hands, only worse. “Who am I?” he said. I pulled away and he struck me. “Don’t do that! Look at me!”

I did. “What do you want?”

“Not this. Never this. But you brought us here, son. You destroyed us both. You took something from me when you took the crown’s power. You weakened my spells.” The painted man made a wide, sweeping gesture at the army. “Look at them! Rancid, festering…I couldn’t even resurrect them properly.” His colorless eyes tensed. “Fix it. Repair the crown, L’tarian. I
need
that power back.”

“Go away.”

“You and I—we lost everything. Neela is with Draken. Sienn betrayed us equally. Without the Crown of Stones, creating a new empire will be most difficult. And you, my only son, have fallen to the level of common breeding stock.” He stared at me, enraged. Then his fury died with a sigh. “Maybe it’s for the best. To truly appreciate freedom you must know what it’s like to live without it. Slavery is the ultimate magic-price after all.” He leaned close and shouted at me. “What is your name? Who is Neela Arcana? Do you know what happened here? How many people you killed?”

Panic woke me up. “I killed someone?”

“That’s right,” he said smoothly. “You’re a murderer. You’ve been found guilty and will be punished for your crimes. Only through pain will you atone and earn the gods’ forgiveness.” The colors on his face seemed to run together as he grinned. Resting my head back on the pole, he spoke to one of the soldiers. “I want a guard on watch at all times. And get rid of his horse. Send it into the desert. Something will eat it.”

He answered, “Yes, Lord Reth,” and moved off. Another stayed behind. He handed the one called Reth a wooden grip with a silver chain. I followed the chain back to where it wrapped around the neck, of a tall, thin woman in a filthy dress. Strands of bedraggled, white hair hung about her dirty face. Matted clumps stuck wet and red to a large, bloody gash on the side of her head.

Her eyes, like his, also lacked color. There was an unfocused quality about them. But when they looked at me, I had the urge to touch her.

“I’m sorry,” she said to me, slow and trembling. “I wouldn’t have hurt you. I just couldn’t let you kill him. And now…I didn’t know he was this far gone. I didn’t think he would…” she drew a rough breath. “I’m sorry. Gods, Ian, I am so sorry.”

“Sienn,” Reth barked. “I said you could see him, not talk.”

I whispered the name he called her. “Sienn.” Reth looked startled, but it seemed to make the woman feel better; hopeful, almost. “It’s alright,” I told her. “I killed someone. I deserve to be punished for my crimes.”

“No.” Teary-eyed, Sienn shook her head. The hope I saw in her, vanished. “Don’t listen to him, Ian. Don’t believe him. He lies—he fucking lies!”

“Enough!” Reth tugged sharply on the chain and led Sienn off.

But she fought him. Reaching back for me, she cried, “I’ll find a way out of this, Ian. I swear. No matter how lost you feel, just hold on. Promise me, you will hold on!”

“I promise,” I said, but I didn’t know what it meant. I didn’t understand why the woman cared. I didn’t know her. I had no idea who Ian was, or why he should be so lost. None of her words made sense.

Yet, something made me follow Sienn’s pale, desperate gaze until I couldn’t see it anymore. And when she was gone, I closed my eyes and saw hers in the dark.

They were sad, compelling, beautiful eyes. I didn’t want to let them go.

But as hard as I tried, I couldn’t hold onto them.

I couldn’t hold onto me.

EPILOGUE

A
hand struck my face. “Wake up.”

It came at me again, and I grabbed it. It was soft and small.
A woman.

I let her go. I spent a moment coughing the dust from my lungs. “I felt that,” I said, clearing my throat, “when you slapped me. Why is it strange that I felt that?”

“Can you stand?” she said. “We don’t have much time.”

I shoved the hair out of my face and sat up. Rocks and dirt covered me. I pushed the debris away and squinted at her through the haze. It was so thick I could barely see her. “What happened?”

“The mine collapsed.”

I looked around. There was nothing but dust and shadows. “Was anyone hurt?”

“Yes.” Grunting, she helped me to my feet. “This way.”

We moved into a tunnel. It was low and tight. A faint glow lit the distance.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Where are the guards?”

“Dead. But more are coming.”

“Wait.” I stopped. “You don’t belong here. Who are you?”

“That doesn’t matter now. Just keep going. We’ll be out soon.”

“I can’t leave,” I told her. “I’m not supposed to. This is where I live.”

“Here?” she snapped, spinning around. “In these rocks? These caves?”

“I…?”

She rushed toward me. Strands of long, white hair blew back from her face. Her eyes were swirling with a dozen different colors. “Do you know what goes on in this place? What they’ve done to you? What they made you do?”

I couldn’t grasp why she was upset. “No.”

“You will. And when the drug is gone, you’ll wish you could forget.”

“How long have I been here?”

She hesitated. “Too long.”

“Then my sentence is over? I’ve paid for my crimes? Reth says
—
”

“Jem Reth says a lot of things. Few of them are true.” The woman drew a frustrated breath. “You aren’t here because you broke the law. You’re here because you’re a threat to him, and to Draken.”