Breaking the Gloaming (24 page)

Sebastian paused halfway through the door. “Did I ask you questions about your duties under the agreement? I will do what is required of me, and that is all you need to know.”

He turned to go, but Ravien’s words stopped him again. “I told your father about this.” 

“My father?” The coolness of his voice was gone. He obviously had not expected this. “What did you tell him? What did he say?” Sebastian stepped back into the room. He gripped the back of his chair. 

“Seban said a Sunan defeat here would be a victory in your homeland, especially if it meant another family member took the throne.” Now there was a taunt to Ravien’s voice. Justus could not follow what she meant. He studied Sebastian’s face.

“What else?” Sebastian asked, excitement flaring in his eyes.

“I will tell you after you tell me where the explosion will be.”

For a moment, Sebastian looked torn, uncertain. Then, with his hands shaking, he growled, “
No
.”

He picked up the chair and hurled it into the wall. The wood shattered and clattered to the floor.

“No one will manipulate me,” he threatened, “but you will see your explosion. I sealed this agreement with my blood.” 

He gave the paper a mad glance and stormed out the door.

“Follow him,” Ravien said urgently to Justus, rising to her feet and stepping closer. “Make sure he does what he promised. Do not trust him.”

“But—”

Ravien cut Justus short with a finger on his lips.

“I will tell you more tomorrow. There is no time now.
Go
.”

Justus nodded and left the room. As he rushed out of the building, he caught a glimpse of Sebastian. He ran after him but knew he could not keep up for long. He needed help. Ryn would join him in this, especially if he knew Tryst’s return might depend on it.

Chapter 24

BIRTH PAINS

“My mother groaned, my father wept,
into the dangerous world I leapt.” 

With the two men gone, the room was Ravien’s private cave again. The only sound was the crackling fire. Its light flickered across the rough rock walls surrounding her.

Neither Sebastian nor Justus had paid the walls much attention, other than the thrown chair. They had little reason to question Ravien’s choice of this inn. Cid had gotten her into the harbor, and this was the closest, most private place for a meeting. The innkeeper was well-connected, which had made it easy for her to send off messages to the men. Cid had carried her message to Father Yates. She owed the smuggler her life.

Ravien trusted her performance would have the desired effect. Justus would distract Sebastian, trying to follow him. They would both ignore her for the night. They would not notice whether or not she left this room.

It was time. She walked to the heavy wooden door and locked it. She stepped to the table, rolled up the agreement, and put it in her cloak. She grabbed the candle and knelt before the hearth.

The heat felt good on her face while she pulled on her gloves. As she reached her hand to the ground, at the side of the fire, she welcomed the slight burning sensation on her lower arm. This pain was immediate and describable, unlike what was flaming up insider her.
 

She felt the switch and pulled.

Where the wooden wall beside the hearth met the rock, a narrow gap opened. It was just as quiet, just as undetectable, as she remembered it. Her father had showed the passage to Tryst, Lorien, and her many years ago.

She slipped through the gap and pulled the counter-lever on the other side. Silently, the wedge of stone swung back into place.
 

She walked briskly up the tight path. Her sight stayed on the ground before her, and her thoughts stayed on her immediate goal. She needed to find Andor.

Only a few doors lined the path on the way to her destination. Her father had never let them go through those doors, but she had since learned they led to the palace’s innermost dungeons. While Tryst reigned, she had explored every inch of these passages. Her knowledge proved valuable now, because she knew this was the fastest way to enter the palace without going through the gate.

The path ended with a wall of stone. On the other side were living quarters, usually for a man on the knight’s council. Her family had once occupied these rooms when her father had served the prince. She hoped the inhabitant would be a man loyal to Andor. Even better, the place could be empty.

She reached down and pulled the small switch, nearly identical to the one at the passage’s other end. A wedge of stone swung back.

The sound of intense screaming groans hit her like a gust of wind. It was a woman. She was in terrible pain.

“Push!” Another woman’s voice shouted over the yells.

“Push!” That was a voice she had heard before. It was Jon.

Ravien closed the secret door behind her and moved through the antechamber toward the sounds. She spied into a bedroom and was shocked by what she saw. Divine fortune was shining down on her.

Lorien and Jon stood on either side of a woman giving birth. It was Mailyn. A nurse-maid crouched, ready to catch the baby. Tryst’s baby. Jon was looking down at Mailyn with the affection of a lover. Lorien looked like she’d eaten a watermelon.

Lorien was the first to see her. Never had Ravien seen such surprise on her sister’s face.
 

“Ravien!” she shouted, her mouth gaping open.

Before Ravien could respond, Mailyn let out a primal sound, her voice blasting through the room like a thunderclap. Then came a baby’s crying.
 

The nurse-maid wiped the infant and held it up. A boy.

Mailyn gently took the boy and held him to her breast. Jon stood by her side beaming with pride and wonder.
 

While the nurse-maid attended to things, Lorien came to Ravien. She was so pregnant that Ravien wondered whether they’d be able to leave these quarters without another baby arriving.
 

The sisters embraced. Then Lorien held Ravien’s shoulders and gazed into her eyes. Ravien worried what her sister would see. No one knew her better.

She looked away, down at Lorien’s large stomach.
 

“You’re next,” Ravien said, keeping her eyes down.

“Any day now, and you will be here to witness it!” Lorien put her finger under Ravien’s chin and lifted her head. Their eyes locked again.

“What happened?” Lorien’s tone was serious. “You have returned from Sunan. I expected a triumphant entry. You look defeated.”

Ravien glanced over Lorien’s shoulder. The nurse-maid was attending Mailyn and the baby while Jon stood close by.

“I need to speak with Andor now,” Ravien said. “I’ll tell you more on the way, but this cannot wait.”

Lorien nodded. She took Ravien’s arm, and led them out. It was the middle of the night. The halls of the palace were empty.

Lorien began to question Ravien about what happened. At first, Ravien tried to hold it back, to focus on what needed to be done now. But Lorien was persistent. She pried the way only a sister could, and soon Ravien began letting the story seep out.
 

“The boy king returned from his meeting with Andor in a rage,” Ravien heard herself saying. “I had never seen him like that. He was always light-hearted, if petulant. His life had lacked challenge and opposition. Whatever Andor did during their meeting triggered something in him.”

“I was in his quarters on the ship,” she continued, “when he came back. Jezebel, Cid, and others were there, too. He pointed to me as soon as he stormed in. He had a different look in his eyes. The boy I had taunted, the young man who had enjoyed me as a foreign ornament—that person was gone. It was as if wounded pride, fury, and lust possessed him and propelled him toward me. I fought him at first. I landed a punch, a knee to his groin. I bit his lip. It all made him more determined. He had guards pin me down, spears at my neck, while…while he forced himself on me.”

“When it was over,” Ravien shuddered and hugged herself tight. “When it was over, he shouted that he never wanted to see me again. Cid escorted me out. No one tried to stop us when we left the ship. There was too much confusion. No one paid us any attention until Cid and I boarded an empty Sunan boat and he pulled the anchor and set sail.

“Then the Sunans on shore sprang into action. They boarded other vessels and came after us. But Cid had a head start, and the man is a genius on a boat. He had picked one of their scout ships, the fastest kind, and we put distance between our pursuers and us as we rounded the cliff where the Tyne meets the sea. By the time we sailed into the harbor, the Sunans had given up. I used the passageway our father once showed us to come here. Now,” Ravien steeled her voice, “I must tell Andor what is coming.”

Lorien was staring at her with tears running down her cheeks. Ravien realized they had stopped walking. They had reached the long hall that led to the prince’s chambers. Two guards stood on either side of the ornate doors at the far end of the hall.

She felt her sister’s hands on either side of her face, turning her head gently. She met Lorien’s eyes. 

“It was good to let some of that out,” Ravien whispered, her eyes moist. “But I cannot mourn this now.”

“My sister,” Lorien answered, “I am mourning for you.” 

Lorien wiped her cheeks and closed her eyes for a long moment. When they opened, Ravien saw a power in her sister—a woman who stared the worst pain and suffering in the face, acknowledged the evil, and then overcame it.

“I will take you to Andor now,” Lorien said. “I would hear your news of what is to come as well. Let’s face it together, just as we’ll face the past together when the time is right.”

She took Ravien’s arm again and walked to the doors. The guards swung them open without a word.

Andor, Ulysses, and two other knights were inside, leaning over a map on a table. The prince looked up, his face tired. 

“This is unexpected.” He walked over and took Lorien’s hand, seemingly ignoring the surprise guest. “Come, join us.”

As they moved to the table, Ravien realized she was disappointed. Her arrival was supposed to be grand and triumphant. It seemed the prince had little warmth.

“You and Wren left with little trace.” Andor locked his unnerving eyes with hers. She’d forgotten how fierce he could look. “I would know what you’ve been doing among our enemies. And what about Wren?”
 

She fought to keep His Excellency’s face out of her mind, but there it was. A young face, a shaved head, an evil smile.

“We believe,” the prince continued after she hesitated, “that the battle will begin with the morning. Can you tell us more about their position? You’ve come from their fleet?” 

“I just arrived.” Ravien nodded. She put her finger on the map. “The Sunan leader camps in his ship here. A smuggler named Cid helped me escape. He stole a boat and sailed around the cliff to the harbor.” She dragged her finger along the path on the map.

“We have met this Cid,” the prince said. “He gave us the Sunan king’s message about today’s meeting.”

“I do not know if we can trust him after today,” Ulysses said, “him or anyone who has been among the enemy.” He looked down at the map. “The Sunans are spread along the entire beach.” He pointed to the forest on the far left side of the map. “They stretch all the way to here, where they are cutting our trees to build siege weapons. Already they have rams for the gate.” He glanced up at Ravien. “What else do you know?”
 

“The Sunan warriors are restless, anxious for battle,” Ravien replied. “One of their high priests had convinced their young king to seek peace first. Whatever happened between you,” she did not try to hide her anger as she stared at Andor, “was a devastating failure for the boy. He is in a destructive rage. They will attack soon, I am sure of it.”

“Where will they focus the fight? And when?” Andor pressed her.

“My love,” Lorien spoke from between them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. “Ravien has had a
very
hard journey. I know this is an urgent, testing night, but let her speak. All she has done is out of loyalty to Valemidas.”

Andor took a deep breath and held it in. He slowly let it out and motioned for Ravien to continue.

“Their thin line was intended to allow an easy escape, or a change of plans, if needed.” Ravien found some comfort in reciting simple facts. “They are not accustomed to this cold, nor do they have the supplies for a long siege. Their attack will be sudden and intense. Their numbers triple ours, at least. While the men wear hardly any armor, they fight with unmatched discipline and coordination. Most of them have trained together in legions since they were children. For those reasons, you might be tempted to stay inside our walls and defend with caution.”
 

Ulysses and the other two knights nodded agreement. Andor wore a hard, suspicious glare. Lorien had taken Ravien’s hand in hers at some point.

“I understand that temptation,” Ravien continued, speaking faster, “but you must listen to me. At dawn, you must send our best knights out from the walls, because at dawn, an explosion will rip open the cliff by the beach. It will break open the Gloaming, and we must seize the chaos to strike at the heart of their army. We must
crush
their leader and those around him.” She slammed a fist down on the table. “Kill the little boy-god and you cut off the army’s head. It will flail like the body of a headless snake.”

The knights were leaning back, away from her.
 

“The Gloaming?” One of the knights asked.

“The Gloaming,” Andor said, “is a city of prisoners beneath us. How will this explosion happen?” he asked Ravien.

“Sebastian has been stockpiling all the black powder of the Icarians. He has filled barrels with it. They are hidden within a crevasse of the cliff, out of sight, but positioned perfectly to splinter the rock and unleash the Gloaming.”

“Do you have any proof of this?” Andor asked.

Ravien pulled out the agreement and unrolled it on the table before Andor. “Read this.”

The others stood around the table in silence as Andor leaned over the parchment and read it. There were marks of blood by the three names at the bottom. Andor’s face was ashen when he looked up.