Of Darkness and Crowns (10 page)

I hear her scuff her booted foot against the mat. “Were you even considering asking me to go? Or are you still so selfishly consumed with your own heartache that this was your goodbye to me.”

Finally, I face her, and I can feel the mercury turn cold at the rejected look on her face. “My heartache?—No. This is not about my personal feelings for Caben, at all. It’s about my duty to what I vowed. About doing the right thing, and that means breaking my honor as a Nactue. I’d never ask you to break yours, Lilly.”

“Bullshit, Kal. It has everything to do with your feelings for him. And it should.” Her amber eyes widen with understanding, seeing right through me. “But you should’ve asked me to go with you.”

My chest pangs with the hollow punch of her words. Before we became Nactue, we did everything together. Made every decision together. She’s known of my clamp since my father pumped my full of mercury, and every other secret since we were kids, and I know all hers. But since then, I’ve made choices alone. Whether they were right or wrong, I haven’t included her, and I didn’t know until now how those choices affected her—
us
.

She’s telling me that she puts us first, regardless our station, our commitments. And that I should, too. That she’s willing to abandon everything she’s worked for in order to help me.

But she’s already suffered the horrors of the Otherworld. She’s already lost Willa. She’s sacrificed enough. And I can’t chance losing her.

So if this is the only way I can keep her safe and leave on somewhat of good terms with my friend, I’ll take it. She’s giving me at least that much.

“The empress needs one of us here. You’re the only one I fully trust.” It’s not the whole truth as to why I can’t allow her to go, but it’s enough. Her features fall as she acknowledges the certainty in my words, the fact that she can’t abandon Empress Iana. The goddess bond demands that she think first of our empress.

A small voice inside me questions why the bond is allowing me to leave without a fight.

Lifting my hand, palm facing out, I cross my fingers—our secret sign. “I love you, Lills.”

As I turn to leave, she says, “I love you. Be safe,” and I imprint her words on my heart.

♦
11
♦

Caben

P
ATIENCE HAS NEVER BEEN
my greatest virtue. Chalk it up to being raised a prince, with servants and flowing coin dinnels at my disposal. But waiting for one’s former lover to arrive, sword drawn and ready to slice your manhood to bits, is not an easy wait for any man.

Instead, I’ve decided to take action. Set things in motion under which I can control. My timeframe, my schedule. And Kaliope will follow that plan.

Foolish princeling, you believe you can control her. Her very being, nature,
soul,
is mercurial.

Pushing away from my cherry oak desk, I stand and motion Lake over. “Bring writing paper and my favorite pen.” Ignoring the dark goddess’s chides is getting easier now that I have her pegged.

“And what, my dark vileness, would you suggest now?” I taunt her. “Go back to the palace and Kill the Nactue leader?” I scoff. “Hardly.”
You’d do well to stop trying to manipulate me, Bale
.

Kal dies, and the dark goddess has nothing more to fear from her sisters. No more threat for her future, for her mortal reign being taken away. That’s why she was pushing so hard for Kal’s death from the start. We—her and I—have an understanding now.

Kal is my security measure. My bargaining chip. My assurance that Bale won’t simply kill me the moment she’s made corporeal. Keeping Kal alive, at least until Bale’s moment of rebirth, secures
my
life.

I might be toying with literal fire here, thinking I can hold Kal over the dark goddess’s head and all will play out in my favor. But what real choice do I have? It would be rash to dispose of something before you truly understand its purpose.

You bleeding fool. You’ll ruin the both of us if you allow her to live. She’s too much of a risk. You can’t control her—

“Enough!” My shout echoes through the small room, making Lake pause before rushing to scoop up the stationary on my desk.

“Stand him up,” I order the two Otherworlder guards near Bax. Helix and Amar are their names, though I can’t tell one from the other. In that way, they kind of remind me of the feather brothers—the twins Kal and I befriended during the Cage fights. Though Orion didn’t survive, I wonder what Kaide has done with himself.

I shrug to myself. No matter. I really don’t know why I thought of them. I shake my head, trying to recall where my mind was just venturing.

Ah. But every day I swap out my guards, never trusting any of them to be with me longer than a day. I believe it’s nearly time to replace these two brutes now.

They lunge for Bax, but he yanks his shackled wrists out of their reach. Annoyed and not wanting my order to go unobeyed, one of them unhooks the chain from his chest and wraps it around Bax’s neck. He jerks it taut, forcing Bax to stand, struggling against its grip.

“For your betrayal, you deserve far worse.” The guard spits in Bax’s face. A slimy string trails from his cracked lips.

I wave him away as the guard removes the chain and Bax coughs. “We’re not his jury. Your goddess will decide his fate.”

The guard studies me curiously, squinting. I’m sure, because of the way I just referred to Bale as
his
goddess and not mine. And this is why I won’t allow anyone other than Lake to spend more time than needed in my presence.

Now that they’re no longer under Bale’s mind control, they do have a form of free will. Although I believe they’re too indebted to her to incite a rebellion. But as Bax has proved, it only takes one.

I won’t chance that.

“He’s not going anywhere,” I tell the guards. “Leave. I require…
Bale requires
privacy.”

A moment’s hesitation and then, “Yes, My Liege.” They bow before exiting the room. And I’m relieved.

I don’t like the amount of time it’s taking to bring Bale forth, to get her out of my being, and for the Otherworlders to continue to serve me in her stead. I was born and raised to be a leader, but this is more than the typical job requirement of any ruler.

I grow weary, and now that I have a better grasp on what’s to happen to Kal and why, I want immediate results. Desire is a demanding affliction. I’m ready to have my thirst quenched.

“Lake, give our guest a seat.” I nod toward Bax.

Lake anticipates my next request before I can give the order and brings over two chairs. Another reason why I keep him around. The scraping of their legs sends annoying chills down my spine. I slump down in mine. Taxed and impatient.

After Lake hands me the stationary, I offer it to Bax. He’s still standing beside his chair, staring at the cream paper. “You know I won’t help you.”

I sigh, having spent the last of my energy keeping up appearances for the guards. “Just do as told, and we won’t have to go through the torture routine. It’s tiring, Bax.”

To my surprise, the Otherworlder takes his seat in the chair across from me. His white beady eyes zero in on mine. “She’s draining you.”

“Not as much as you’re trying my patience.” I swing my hand out and the pen flies into his grasp. “Nice reflexes. For a beaten and bound mutant, that is.” I run a hand through my hair, deciding it might be time to trim it, after all. Less maintenance. “Tell Kal that she’s to bring the relic and shard with her if she wants you to remain alive. Oh, and I’ll be needing my ring back also.”

Bax huffs out a gruff laugh. “A ransom letter. How original, My Liege.” He bows his head in mock-respect, his restraints jangling, then scribbles out a message on the paper. He angles it for me to read: The Prince of Pain demands more cheese.

My molars clamp down. “You’ve gotten pretty liberal with your humor since escaping the Otherworld, Bax. Maybe you’d like a demonstration, something to remind you
why
I was even given that name?” I grab the dagger from my ankle holder and lunge, stopping the point of the blade near his jugular.

He doesn’t flinch. Stubborn mutant.

Slowly, I release some power—white currents flare and curl around my fingers. They snap at the air, and the dagger zings to life in my palm. Bax flinches as he’s shocked with low voltage. It’s not enough to put him in any real physical hurt, but his discomfort at being so close to Bale’s power is evident on his strained face.

I watch the knot in his throat bob as I pull the blade back. “Bale has no intention of keeping me alive after I give you what you want, Prince.” In a quick move, he grasps my hand with the dagger, his chains loose enough to allow him to press the blade flush against his pale skin. “Write it yourself, and be done with me.”

There’s no bluff in his words. I wait for him to blink, purse his lips, give a sign that he’s lying, but he’s as still as stone. Lake has moved next to his chair, sword raised and aimed at Bax’s head.

“Stand down,” I tell Lake. He lowers his weapon, but stays close to the Otherworlder. Finally, I twist my wrist and wrench my hand free of Bax’s hold. Twirling the dagger, I stare down at the glinting blade, the firelight from the pit reflecting off it. “I’m told you have a family.”

At this, I peek up at him. And there’s his tell. His jaw flexes. “I’m sure they need you, Bax,” I continue. “Two lonely Otherworlders in a foreign country. They will feel lost without you. And who knows what will happen to them when Kal is instructed to return to Cavan with her empress.” I tilt my head. “Your father is old. Not much of a means of support for them.”

Bax extends his hand, palm out, and I sheath my dagger before handing him a clean sheet of stationary. He transfers the pen to his right hand and begins writing. He must be furious, imaging all the ways either he or Kal will end my life. After all, he’s somewhat of a prince himself. I’m sure he’s used to getting his way. As the son of the Dark Priest, he had to have been revered, feared, respected.

“And how is your father these days?” I ask.

Clenching his teeth as he writes, Bax grinds out, “Saner than you.”

I loud laugh booms from my chest. “I’m sure Kal’s to thank for that.”

“If only she could’ve healed you, Prince,” he says, and thrusts the finished letter at me. “But your illness stems from a very vengeful, power-hungry parasite. Bale will never be satisfied. That lust you feel? That never-ending yearning for power?” He widens his eyes, raises his silver-ringed eyebrows. “Multiply that by infinity, and you can
almost
taste what the moon goddess suffers. She will not stop. And you are just a bridge to burn in her pursuit.”

You have what you need. Kill him
.

I shake the thought from my head, and Bax cocks his. “Kal would be merciful,” Bax says.

A pain clamps down on my temples, vice-like and sharp. “What?”

“I will not end your torment. We both know Bale would only select another, and neither of us are willing to chance that. Me, out of fear
I’d
be chosen, and as you so wisely assessed, I cannot leave behind my family. And you, for fear of losing your power.” He leans in closer. “But Kal? She’s different. She’s been chosen for this very task.”

The searing in my brain intensifies. Currents spark beneath my skin, my scalp. The dark goddess reminding me that she can torture me until I take my own life. “Your suggestion is to allow you to
bind
me and
let
Kal have her way with me?” I chuckle. “Sounds appealing.” And truly, it does. “But there’s one hitch, Bax. I don’t trust you. And I’m sure Her dark glory wouldn’t approve, either. I’d suffer something awful.”

The glowing ribbons begin to fade from my hands, the power ebbing. Bale is pleased. But the seed has been planted. Bax knows this as he rights himself in his chair, a satisfied expression on his weathered face.

“Of course,” he says. “Who would want to live in constant torment? I’m sure she has her ways.”

Folding the letter in half, I fan the page at Lake, wordlessly instructing him to fetch the seal and a messenger. Whomever he chooses will surely not return alive, and he’ll understand as much. He’ll do his goddess’s bidding with pride.

“Make sure you select someone who will not break and reveal our location under duress,” I tell him before he bows and sets off on his task.

Now that I’m alone with Bax, I prepare my interrogation. The things I want no other to hear.

“And if Kaliope somehow manages this feat…?” I trail off, knowing Bax will choose the right angle to pick up on. One where Bale cannot accuse me of probing out of disrespect to her.

Standing, Bax kicks the leg of his chair, moving it aside. He takes his time stretching out on the hardwood floor, maybe hinting for more comfortable accommodations. I admire his bravado. Again, I note that he’s been raised slightly more privileged than the rest of the mutants.

He tucks his hands behind his head. “When I first realized that Kal was the ‘house’, I wanted nothing more than to pit her against my father. She was a weapon. Not flesh and blood. I cared nothing for the girl.”

I remember Kal relaying Bax’s plan when we were incarcerated in the Otherworld. And I recall thinking, even then, that he was a selfish mongrel who was only using her. He valued her over the others, and it had something to do with the blessed mercury in her veins. But I also knew, somewhere along the way, he began caring for her as a daughter. So what changed?