The Dragon Hunter and the Mage (55 page)

Aric lowered his sword and looked around. Had there been a fight, or was that destruction just the consequence of cracking the Glowstone lock?

“Well, I finally got inside,” Leth said, stepping into the now opened vault. “Too bad I still have no idea what this was all about.”

Chapter 21

“You’ve brought us into a trap!” Lucilla cried, a threatening sword in her hand.

Fadan gave her a cold stare. “If this was a trap, you would have all been arrested by now,” he hissed.

It was the truth. Fadan had no idea what was going on, but he had been at the wrong end of one of his father’s ambushes once. This was not one of those, but then what
was
it?

“The Prince is right,” Alman said, pacing along a row of empty cells. “They seem to have just packed up and abandoned this place.”

Lucilla lowered her sword hesitantly. “Then they want us to follow the prison boat,” she concluded. “That’s where the ambush will be.”

“Why go to that much trouble?” Fadan asked. “If my father is expecting a rescue,” he opened his arms, “this is the best place to spring a trap.”

The group exchanged a series of glances. They could obviously see he had a point, but that just made the enigma all the more puzzling.

“Do we have a choice?” Shayna asked. “I mean, we can’t just abandon our people. Wherever they’re going, they’ll be executed upon arrival.”

Silence filled the prison hallway, water droplets echoing from the hollow cells.

Fadan clenched his fists. Little flames escaped between his fingers as he turned around and stomped away from the group.

“Hey!” Lucilla shouted. “Where the heck do you think you’r
e
‒
‒
?”

Alman raised a hand, begging her to calm down. “Let me,” he said.

The group of rebels closed into a tighter circle, frustration seeping into their whispers. Alman followed Fadan around a corner and into one of the cellblocks. The Prince was standing in front of a cell. Inside, Alman saw a rat, screeching in a corner, trying to dig himself into what looked like a bag of flour. 

“Looking for something?” Alman asked.

Fadan did not reply right away.

“I’ve arranged with the spy to get my mother’s necklace,” he said at length. “I can get it for you. It’ll lead you straight to the prison barge.”

“Is this where Doric was jailed?” Alman asked, motioning towards the cell with his chin.

Fadan nodded.

“Before, in the sewers, you asked me about Lucilla. You want to know why she joined the rebellion?”

The Prince looked at him suspiciously but did not reply.

“We all have our reason,” Alman said. “I joined because I lost everything I had. My title, my lands, everything... Shayna joined because she and her husband were caught harboring Mages. Lucilla’s reason is her daughter. Her name was Claura. It had been two months since she had been accepted into the Mage’s school of Augusta when the Purge began. She was only nine. Couldn’t cast a spell if she wanted, had never so much as tasted Runium, but she did have the Talent. It was enough for Tarsus’ Paladins.”

Alman saw Fadan grow pale.

“Claura was captured along with the rest of her class and hung at the gallows five days later. Lucilla and her husband tried to stop it. The last thing little Claura saw was her parents being cut down by Legionaries. Lucilla survived her injuries and was rescued from prison by what would eventually become the Rebellion. She has shaved her head every day since.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Fadan snapped.

“Because that’s why you are so angry,” Alman said. “You’re not just frustrated we’ve hit a wall. That happens. You’ve hit tougher ones. But you thought this was it. That Doric and the others would be free and you could finally stop this little war against your father.” Alman shook his head. “But you know better than that. Deep down, you know you’ve been fooling yourself. You know what you have to do, and just helping with these prisoners isn’t enough.”

Fadan’s eyes flickered and his chin trembled slightly. “What kind of person fights his own father?” he asked.

Alman grabbed the Prince’s arms, looking deep into his eyes. “I’m sorry to say this, but considering what your father is, what kind of person wouldn’t?”

Fadan tried to say something. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

“The Rebellion is hopeless, your majesty,” Alman continued. “We all know it. We keep fighting because, honestly, there’s nothing left for us to do. But with you… With you we wouldn’t even
be
a rebellion anymore. We’d be the people of the Empire, stomping their feet and saying ‘No more!’”

“I’m just a kid, Alman.”

“You are the Prince
,
and you are a Mage. You are brave enough to challenge your all-powerful father. You’ll be a beacon of hope, a banner waving proudly in the wind, telling the people they don’t have to cower in fear anymore. Every army needs someone to rally behind. You’re the person we’ve been waiting for, except you’re much better than any of us could have hoped for.”   

Fadan shook his head. “You’re delusional. You’re seeing what you want to see.”

“Maybe,” Alman agreed. “What about you? What do
you
want to see?”

Cassia strolled around the dry fountain in the middle of the patio, her fingers unable to stay still as they plucked at each other. “Are you sure Fadan knows where this is?” she asked.

Venia nodded. She was standing in a corner by a large staircase that went up to the veranda surrounding the courtyard. The spy, Cassia had noted, always made sure she had her back to a wall, even when the two of them were alone.

Wind played through the archway leading out of the courtyard, whistling and howling. Cassia hugged herself, fighting off a shiver.

“It’s been years since the last time I was here,” Cassia noted, inspecting the vines tumbling from the arches of the veranda. They had grown much longer than she remembered.

“You used to come here?” Venia asked.

“Before me and Doric got married,” Cassia explained. “We usually snuck out of the Citadel when we wanted to be alone, but sometimes we just found an empty Palace. This was my favorite.”

The spy glanced around at the window shutters hanging from their hinges. “I thought you and Doric were from Fausta,” she said.

“We are. But for a few years, Doric lived here. When his father was High Marshal.” She adjusted her cloak. “I hated it. The distance. Never knowing when I would see him next. My father usually visited Augusta once a month. Because he had been the first of the Revolt’s nobles to surrender, he got to keep his Duchy, but his relationship with the Emperor was fragile. But my father always had a plan. He realized Tarsus liked me, so he planned to marry me to him. I didn’t mind because it was the only way I got to be with Doric.”

She chuckled. “I always cried when it was time to return to Fausta. I remember spending sleepless nights rolling in bed, picturing Doric surrounded by the Lagon and the Strada girls.” She shook her head. “One day, I must have been feeling rather vulnerable, I’m not sure, but I told him. The next day, he gave me this.” Cassia reached into her dress and pulled her Glowstone pendant out. “‘This way, we’ll always be connected,’ he’d said.” She chuckled again. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but… at the time, it felt like the most beautiful thing anyone could possibly say.” She glanced at Venia smilingly. “Earned him a very decent kissing session.”

The spy chuckled. “I guess loving a poet does have its perks. Weren’t you worried the Emperor would eventually agree to marry you to Tarsus, though? Wasn’t Doric?”

Cassia nodded. “I was, yes. Especially because I knew Tarsus was trying to persuade his father to accept. Doric, however, wasn’t worried at all.”

“Really? He wasn’t jealous?”

“Jealous?” Cassia threw her head back, laughing. “You clearly don’t know Doric. He was jealous of Ambrosian Astal or Dionesia Mantara, anyone who could write better than him. My suitors didn’t worry him. I think that was one of the things I loved most about him. Besides, his father knew the Emperor well. Doric always assured me Tassan had no intention of marrying his son to one of his enemies’ daughters. According to Faric, my father was a fool for even trying. There was only one other person Doric was truly jealous of. Intilla.”

“I’m pretty sure that was mutual, though.”  

“Maybe,” Cassia said with a shrug. “You know, when we were little, those two were actually inseparable.” She paused, her eyes set somewhere among the stars. “It’s incredible how people can grow apart…”

“It takes a very special kind of bravery to remain friends with someone who has everything you ever wanted.”

The Empress turned to her spy but said nothing for a while. “Now there’s something neither of them would ever admit.”

An owl cooed and Venia perked up, her eyes shooting towards the patio’s entrance. “Your son is coming.”

“You can hear him?” Cassia asked, searching the darkness beyond the gate. “Is he alone?”

The answer came shortly as Fadan’s silhouette crossed into the courtyard. The Empress would have recognized his walk if it was foggy and she was half blind. A dark cloak flowed around the Prince, and when his features finally became visible, he looked… older, somehow.

When had she seen him the last time? It couldn’t possibly have been that long…

“Sweetie,” Cassia said, taking her son into her arms. “Are you alright?”

“I’m alright, mother,” Fadan replied.

It was a silly, empty question. What else would he reply?

But he was not alright. She looked into his deep, dark eyes and what she saw was pain. It wouldn’t have been more obvious if he was sobbing while tugging at her skirt, except he didn’t do that now.

Cassia ran a delicate finger along his cheek, where his fair skin turned slightly pink. It was so easy for a mother to miss it when her little boy turned into a man. Had she really missed it, or was she just pretending like she had?

“I wish you had told me,” Cassia said. “About your abilities.”

“Mother, I know there is a lot to talk about, but time is against us. Every moment we waste i
s
‒
‒
”

“I know,” Cassia interrupted. “Your friends can have the damn necklace. I just want you to be safe.”

“Mother…” Fadan looked down, then quickly back up and into her eyes. “I’m going with them.”

“
What
?”

“I’m sorry,” Fadan said. “This is something I
must
do.”

“You can’t,” the Empress almost screamed. “I’ll gladly give your friends the necklace, I don’t care. But you can’
t
‒
‒
”

“I’m not asking for your permission,” Fadan told her. He grabbed her hand. “Mother, I’ve had enough. I won’t be a part of it anymore.”

Cassia frowned. “What are you talking about? A part of what?”

“Father’s schemes,” Fadan replied. “The arrests, the lies, the persecutions. I can’t take it anymore.”

“Son…” Cassia shook her head. “You have
nothing
to do with any of it. It’s not your responsibility.”

“Yes, it is!” Fadan snapped, then regained his composure. “I’m the Prince. The heir. What I do matters, and what I don’t do matters just as much.” He let go of Cassia’s hands. “Mother, I’m going, and I’m not coming back.”

That was not something Cassia was prepared for. She mumbled something incoherently until Fadan spoke in her turn.

“Mother, you have to understand what this means. I’m setting you free as well. There’ll be no more reason for you to stay. Aric is out of father’s reach. Soon, Doric will be as well. You can leave. Escape.”

Cassia’s expression was paralyzed in shock. She glanced at Venia, then back to her son. “I… your father… He will…”

“Fire take my father!” Fadan shouted. “He can’t keep doing this to people. You included. This ends now.”

“Son… Let’s think about this, please.”

Fadan shook his head in such a calm, definitive way that Cassia’s stomach went cold.

“I’ve thought about it for too long already,” the Prince said. “But I’ve only been delaying it. My decision has been made. I’m sorry I won’t be here to help you escape,” he looked at Venia, “but I’m sure you will be fine.”

“No,” Cassia said, her hands joining in a plea. “If you’re going, then I’m going with you. I won’t let you fight Paladins on your own.”