Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) (33 page)

She clung to his hand like it could keep her alive and forced herself to take a shaky breath.

“So tell me,” King Dimitar said, turning back to the Council. “If she’s new to your world, where has she been all this time?”

Councillor Emery closed his eyes, deliberating with the other Councillors.

Before they came to a decision, someone in the crowd shouted, “She was raised by humans!”

“Humans!” King Dimitar snarled. “I thought the elves had severed ties with those vermin.”

“We have,” Councillor Emery promised. “Like I said, Sophie is a
special case
.”

“Well then, let’s see how
special
she is.” King Dimitar stalked toward Sophie, sending the crowd around her scurrying.

Sophie locked her knees, begging them not to give out as she faced the monstrous king. From the corner of her eye, she could see Sandor fighting his way toward her, but the fleeing masses kept knocking him back. Only Fitz and Keefe stayed by her side—though Sophie had a feeling Biana was hiding nearby.

The king leaned so close, Sophie could smell his breath—rotten meat and burned garlic—as he sniffed her hair and said, “I feel everything that goes on in my head.
Everything.
Do you?”

“Y-yes,” she managed to stutter.

King Dimitar’s eyes narrowed and Sophie braced for him to raise one of his massive arms and smash her.

Instead, Biana reappeared with a yelp as she, Fitz, and Keefe dropped to their knees, covering their ears and squeezing their heads.

“What’s wrong?” Sophie shouted, trying to shake them out of whatever was happening. “What are you doing to them?”

“The better question,” King Dimitar said as he relaxed his brow and halted whatever torture he’d been delivering, “is why didn’t it work on you?”

“Like the Councillors already said, Sophie is
special
,” Alden spat as he pushed his way to his children’s side.

Grady and Edaline were right behind him, and they pulled Sophie close as Sandor moved in front of them and straightened to his full height, leaving the king in his shadow.

“Those children you just harmed were innocent,” Sandoor snarled.

“Guilty by association,” King Dimitar argued. “And they’ll be fine in a minute. Meanwhile,
this one
. . .”

He reached for Sophie, and Sandor shoved his hand away.

King Dimitar laughed, a wet, gurgley sound. “You have no place here, goblin.”

“That girl is my charge.”

“Is she now?” His eyes traced over Sophie, lingering on the scar on her hand. “Raised by humans, strange talents,
and
a bodyguard. I’d heard rumors that the elves had a new trick up their sleeves. I just never expected it to be in such an unimpressive package.”

“Sophie is not a trick,” Alden assured him. “She’s a child. A child who made a very grave mistake—and she will be punished accordingly.”

“Yes, she will,” King Dimitar agreed, slamming his gigantic fist into Sandor’s stomach.

Sandor dropped to his knees, coughing and wheezing as the King grabbed him by the shoulders and tossed him into a nearby Wanderling.

Sophie wasn’t sure if the loud
crack
was the tree or Sandor’s head, and when she tried to run to check on him, King Dimitar snatched her wrist.

“This child invaded
my
mind and challenged
my
authority!” he shouted, dragging her to his side. “That means
I
get to decide her punishment. And I’ve decided she’s coming back to Ravagog with me, to serve a life sentence.”

FORTY-FOUR

T
HAT’S NOT WHAT THE TREATY
says!” Grady shouted, grabbing Sophie’s free hand and starting a tug-of-war. “If you don’t let go of my daughter right now, I will make you cut off your own arm.”

“Your mind tricks don’t work on us,” King Dimitar sneered.

“Don’t they?” Grady narrowed his eyes, and the King dropped Sophie’s hand and punched himself in the nose—hard.

Dark maroon streamed down his face as the king screamed,
“This is an act of war!”

He lunged for Grady’s throat, but Grady narrowed his eyes again and King Dimitar froze like a statue, his vicious mouth barely moving enough to breathe.

“All right—enough!” Councillor Emery shouted, pushing his way through the panicking crowd, followed by the rest of the Council and their furious bodyguards.

When they reached Grady’s side, Councillor Terik squeezed Grady’s shoulder and told him, “You’ve made your point.”

Grady hesitated a fraction of a second. Then stepped back, dragging Sophie safely behind him as King Dimitar collapsed in a heap, panting and clawing at the ground with rage.

“The treaty is
over
,” he growled between gasping breaths.

“Is it?” Councillor Emery asked, waving his hands to silence the shouting elves all around. “I think you need to check again.”

“We have the treaty right here,” Councillor Liora said as she conjured a golden scroll.

“And as you can see,” Councillor Emery said, taking the scroll from her and quickly scanning it, “it says, ‘No elf shall use their ability on an ogre without their permission in times of peace.’ But trying to drag someone’s daughter away does not constitute a ‘time of peace.’ So Grady’s act was
not
a violation—end of discussion.”

King Dimitar spit, splattering the grass with dark blood. “What about the girl?”

“Yes, let’s examine that, shall we?” Councillor Emery scrolled down and pointed to a block of text. “It says, ‘Should a serious violation occur, a punishment must be agreed upon by both sides.’”

“The only punishment I’ll agree to will be in
my
city under
my
control!” King Dimitar shouted.

“Then we are apparently at an impasse.”

“No—we’re at
war
!”

“Is that really what you want?” someone called, causing the crowd to part again as Lady Cadence stalked forward.

She dipped a slow, elaborate curtsy and held up her Markchain to show King Dimitar. “I remember when you gave this to me, I thought,
here
is a king who cares about the safety of his people. Such a king would not want them needlessly slaughtered in battles.”

“Who says they would be?” King Dimitar argued. “Elves do not fight.”

“We fight for them,” Sandor growled, unsheathing his blade. The Councillor’s bodyguards did the same.

King Dimitar feigned a yawn. “Goblins are no match for us.”

Sandor stomped closer, pointing his sword at the ogre king’s heart. “Tell that to the thousands you lost in the last war. Trust me, if my hands were no longer tied by the restrictions of peace, you would not still be standing.”

“Neither would you,” King Dimitar growled back.

“Neither would any of us,” Lady Cadence said firmly. “Which is why we all agreed to the treaties in the first place. So our children would not have to grow up without fathers. Is that really something you would give up because of your wounded pride?”

“You speak too boldly,” King Dimitar warned, his words switching to the ogre language.

“Perhaps I do,” Lady Cadence replied in the same tongue. “But that is only because I know you as a king who understands reason. A king who came here today to offer his sympathy in our dark hour. A king who knows that war should never be sparked by the mistake of a child—a child who
will
be punished by her own for the shame she’s brought on everyone today.”

King Dimitar gritted his teeth so hard Sophie swore she could hear them cracking.

“You also told us if we needed your assistance, we just had to ask,” Councillor Oralie said quietly, her ogre words slightly stilted but perfectly understandable. “This is our need.”

The king spat at Sophie’s feet, splashing the bottom of her gown with bloody spittle. But he told the Council, “Fine, punish her as you see fit. But know that I will be following up.”

“We will send you a full report,” Councillor Emery promised. “But we must wait until we are a complete body of twelve again.”

“I’ll give you two weeks,” the King told them, turning to face Sophie. “Then I’ll be back to check on things—and I’d better be satisfied with what I see. Otherwise you can consider your treaty over.”

“Please say
something
,” Sophie whispered, twisting one of her nexuses so many times it was starting to rub her wrist raw.

She’d already torn out every loose eyelash she could find—plus several that had been very much attached. And still, she sat on the pristine couch of Havenfield’s main room, feeling the glass walls close in while Grady, Edaline, Tiergan, Alden, and Sandor all seemed to be competing in some sort of Who Can Glare At Sophie The Longest contest.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated for the ten millionth time. “I didn’t think—”

“That’s just it,” Grady interrupted. “ You didn’t
think
. Do you have any idea what would’ve happened to you if he’d dragged you away before we could stop him?

She didn’t.

But she was very aware that she’d almost started a
war
.

And that she’d forced Grady to use his ability, which had been the most terrifying part of the day—by far. She never wanted to see that side of Grady again.

“Is the Council going to exile me?” she whispered.

Tiergan shook his head. “The ogres do not support that prison—largely because some of their own are being held there. King Dimitar would never approve.”

“So what
will
he approve?” Sophie asked, hearing the panic in her voice but unable to hide it.

What could be worse than Exile?

Alden sighed and sat down beside her. “There’s no reason to worry
too
much, Sophie. What you did was very serious. But the Council is also well aware that King Dimitar’s visit today was hardly the concerned check-in he claimed it to be. His sole purpose was to assess the unrest in our world and increase it. He wants us to crumble so he can swoop in and conquer the pieces, and he was looking for anything that might help him accomplish it. You were simply his convenient excuse.”

“Incredibly convenient,” Tiergan muttered. “You might as well have wrapped yourself in shiny paper and tied your hair with a bow.”

Sophie hung her head. “I’m—”

“I know you’re sorry,” Alden interrupted. “I even know
why
you did it. I just hope you understand that this is one dilemma I will not be able to protect you from. Not only will King Dimitar insist that there be consequences, but our people need to see you punished as well. Most of the public sees you as a dangerous experiment run amok, and today’s drama essentially confirmed it. The Council is going to have to devise a punishment that will satisfy King Dimitar
and
prove to everyone that you are being sufficiently controlled.”

Sophie swallowed, and it felt like choking down an entire bucket of sharp ice. “Any idea what the punishment will be?”

“It could be any number of things. But if I had to guess, it’ll be some sort of mandatory public service assignment that you’ll be expected to do every day after school. That way our people will see you humbled, and know that you’re being supervised more thoroughly. And since it’s essentially equivalent to an ogre work camp sentence, King Dimitar should be satisfied.”

Grady and Tiergan both nodded, like they’d been thinking the same thing, and Sophie felt her heart rate start to slow down to normal.

“What kind of public service?” Edaline asked, looking just as relieved as Sophie felt.

Alden glanced at Grady again before he answered. “I’d assume they’d send her to the Sanctuary, since Sophie’s skills with Silveny would be most useful to us there—but before you go smiling too widely, Sophie,” he added, and Sophie’s face fell immediately, “know that it will be hard, filthy work, probably involving a large amount of animal feces—most of which will not be sparkly. And you will likely serve there for the rest of the school year. Perhaps longer.”

“It’s better than an ogre work camp,” Sophie told him.

“It is, indeed.”

“But let us hope it is still awful enough to deter you from doing anything like this ever again,” Sandor added, gripping the handle of his weapon like he was wishing he could shred her with it.

“Believe me, I’ve learned my lesson,” Sophie promised, staring at the stain where the King had spit on her, vowing to throw away the dress.

“I’m not sure you have, so you can count on us spending a lot of time reviewing the laws of telepathy,” Tiergan warned her. “We clearly also need to discuss the differences between our minds, and the minds of the other intelligent creatures. You’re very lucky you were spared the pain of the
grusom-daj
. Fitz, Biana, and Keefe weren’t so fortunate.”

Sophie shut her eyes, wishing she could shut out the memory of her three friends collapsing in agony. “What’s a
grusom-daj
?”

“An ogre mind trick,” Alden said quietly. “They’re not telepathic, but their minds can transmit a single high-pitched frequency that feels like a tuning fork is being rammed into our brain. You really couldn’t hear it?”