Silent Kingdom (23 page)

I lifted my chin and answered Laydin’s last question. “He chose a different path.”

Laydin stared down at her towel, fidgeting with it uncomfortably. She dared a glance at her mother. “I’m sorry,” she gulped.

Forcing my expression to look carefree, I waved my hand. “I told you, it hardly matters. It was only a vague wish. We were not…we were only friends.”

Without another word, I swept the dirt pile into the pan and left to dump it outside.

~ ~ ~

Days slithered by, full of helping Jennah with work in her shop and home and nights of meeting with rebels in various locations. Most often we met in Jennah’s cellar, but occasionally she would wake me to lead me out to the shadowy, quiet streets, where we would dodge ever-increasing numbers of patrol guards to meet in another business or home. The rebels usually kept their meetings to a handful of men and women at a time in order to reduce chances of being discovered, yet this made communication slow and difficult. It also meant that most efforts, like our rescue of the priest, were done with small groups of rebels, in numbers that could be stealthy and swift to avoid capture.

As we met with more and more rebels, I felt my hope grow. Perhaps we could end my father’s tyranny. Maybe there were more Misrothians than I’d believed who were ready to end King Zarev’s reign.

Most nights, we discussed the plan for me to infiltrate the palace for information that could aid our movement. Layk insisted on introducing me to as many of the rebels as possible before sending me away, in order to ensure that other members and I would be able to recognize one another. The time it was taking to get me into the palace was beginning to wear on me. Already, nearly two weeks had passed since I’d first entered the capital.

Impatience was foolish—deadly, even. But each night my sleep was filled with nightmares of death: the deaths of my people, my cousin, and everyone I cared about.

And I knew I could prevent them.

One afternoon, as we waited in Jennah’s cellar to move out and attempt to prevent another execution, I broached the subject. “When do we proceed with the plan to send me into the palace?”

Gare crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair. “There is much left to discuss.”

I bit back my impatience. “Then let us discuss it.”

Jennah shifted in her seat across from me. Her eyes glittered in the candlelight, but there was no amusement in them. “I have waited this long, wondering if you would share more and quelling my suspicion because of your assistance. But I can’t ignore the matter any longer.”

She set a hand on her hip while she scanned my face. It was a simple enough gesture for the slender woman, but something about her mannerisms stirred my memory, reminding me of childhood tales about Alrenian warriors from bygone days. “You do not have the bearing of a servant, yet you said you grew up in the palace.
Who are you?
”

All eyes turned toward me and silence fell.

I swallowed and stared at my hands, folded in my lap so tightly they were white. If I told them who I was, would they trust me? I may have aided them once, but I’d also concealed my identity this long and Gare had watched me hesitate to kill some of the king’s men. Besides, I couldn’t trust them. There was no telling that they would not use my identity to spur their movement forward, that they would not spread word that the princess had returned and was part of the rebellion.

The last thing I needed was for the king to hear about a rebel princess. He wouldn’t hesitate to shed more innocent blood to find me; he would find our hideout and raze Marke’s shop in an instant. I couldn’t take that risk, not when it endangered so many.

The truth has been silent in this kingdom for years. Let it be silent a little longer.

I raised my eyes to meet Jennah’s narrowed stare, and chose my words carefully. “I was a child in the palace. Not a servant.”

The tension remained heavy in the room.

“You did not learn any of your parents’ ways?” Layk’s voice was sharp; his bright eyes burned into me.

If only I could lie. A thousand contrived stories swirled through my brain, but my tongue refused to give voice to any of them. Instead, I simply shook my head.

“I understand that your past must be painful, since you said you have no family in Evren.” Jennah’s voice was gentle, her face warm. “But you have to understand how important it is that we don’t withhold information from one another…”

A distant bell began to toll, signaling the seventeenth hour. Layk rose from his chair and lifted his bow from the table. “We need to move now.”

The others were on their feet in an instant. As one, we silently mounted the steps to the storeroom and began to filter one by one out the door and into the evening. Clouds muffled the sunlight and a fresh layer of snow crunched beneath my boots as I traced a path through the city’s maze of alleys. My bow weighed heavily on my back and I remembered the patrol guard’s threat after my first skirmish as a rebel. Layk could pass as an armed guard if he chose, but the streets were growing increasingly unfriendly toward armed citizens. I’d watched countless people questioned outside Marke’s shop over the days, and even now, as crowds wound through the streets to behold another execution, I noticed a few wary glances shot my direction.

Jennah was ahead of me, her tall, slender form striding confidently from an alleyway onto the main street to join the crowds. She never shirked from the attention she drew, her gold-tinted complexion shining, her eyes flashing, her steps poised and her smile sure. Her Alrenian heritage was clear and she was unashamed. She welcomed the looks from Misrothians, attempting to draw attention from me while I slunk several yards behind her, doing my best to be lost in her wake.

The change of the crowd’s mood was perceptible in the very air around us: the breeze faltered, leaving the world heavy and still, and the people’s murmurings became troubled. Ahead of us, Layk froze with the crowd gathering just outside the square. Benor, Gare, and Ellok drew up close behind him and Jennah and I followed, pushing around women covering their children’s eyes, men muttering in disgust and anger.

Standing on my tiptoes, I managed to see over the people’s heads into the square and my blood ran cold. The stand was soaked in blood, the executioner still hovering over the chopping block with his dripping axe, and guards tossing corpses into a pile at the foot of Eldon’s statue. They had started the beheadings early, but that was not what horrified the people.

Standing in rows before their bodies, a dozen heads were speared atop pikes, their wide-eyed stares matching ours. My stomach clenched and I choked on bile rising in my throat. I recognized one of the faces: Murvek, one of the rebels I had met with just the night before.

“They knew our plans,” Layk said, his voice low yet sharp as steel. “We’ve been discovered—or betrayed.”

CHAPTER 14

J
ennah stifled a cry, raising a hand to her mouth. “If they know about the meetings, they could be at the shop now.”

I could see the horror transforming to anger and resolve as she thought of her girls in possible danger. Her eyes flashed and she set her jaw, the concerned mother becoming a powerful Alrenian in an instant.

“Wait, we don’t know…” Gare began, reaching out to grasp her arm, but she was already shoving past the people, forcing her way back down the street.

“It’s a trap,” Benor muttered.

Despite his warnings, despite my own sense of danger flaring in my own brain, horror clawed at my chest as the dead faces continued to stare us down. I imagined Jennah’s family there in their places and my pulse raged. I pressed through the crowd after Jennah. There was a ringing in my ears, muting the voices around me. The pale, shocked faces of the Misrothians looked distant, as if they were staring at me from a vast distance. My footsteps pounded the cobblestones like war drums and cold air bit at my face, tore at my cloak, and brushed my hair into my eyes. Even as the crowd thinned and I was able to increase my pace, the streets seemed endless—I couldn’t run quickly enough, couldn’t swallow the distance in time. What if it was already too late?

I rounded the corner onto Jennah’s street and it felt like a knife pierced my chest. Shouts and the clang of steel on steel shattered the night: Jennah was surrounded by guards swarming outside the shop, holding her ground with her sword raised high as several mounted an attack against her.

The breeze whispered in my ears, making the hairs on my arms bristle. I yanked my bow from my back and drew an arrow. Panting, Benor drew up beside me. “Wait—” he began.

I let my arrow fly, piercing one of the guards in the chest before he could slice his blade toward Jennah’s neck. He tumbled to the cobblestones in a pool of blood, and his comrades raised angry eyes toward Benor and me. Before I could release another arrow, three guards were upon us both.

One smashed the pommel of his sword on my head, knocking me backward. Sparks of light splattered across my vision and warm blood spilled down my temple. The men heaved me roughly to my feet, their fingers digging so hard into my skin I cried out. A third man lifted my bow from the ground and slung it over his own back, sneering at me.

Dizzy, I surveyed the street to see Benor had already been overpowered and disarmed as well. The men dragged us toward the building, where they were still restraining Jennah. Light from the guards’ torches glared in my eyes, but I could see more guards approaching from down the street, pulling Gare, Ellok, and Layk toward us.

Then another man rounded the corner, his cloak fluttering around him like a shadow clinging to his presence. Narek. I stood frozen, staring at him as he studied his men’s handiwork in one smooth glance: an entire band of rebels captured in moments. I remembered the way it had felt when Narek had carried me away screaming as a girl and dumped me over the side of a cliff. Without remorse. My stomach tightened and I found it hard to breathe.

“Burn the place to ashes,” Narek ordered. “Let it be a message to all who seek to defy the king.”

I swallowed. Where were Kam and the girls? Were they still hiding in the living quarters over the shop? Had they managed to escape?

Thrashing and kicking, Jennah screamed. “No, no! There are children—my children are inside!”

Two men punched through the building’s glass windows and began dumping oil inside. When they stepped back, several of their comrades tossed torches through the yawning voids and leapt back. Light flared in a brilliant burst and smoke billowed through the windows. Despair shredded my heart, making my body feel numb and empty. They were murdering Jennah’s family, destroying her whole life, and we were helpless to stop them.

Jennah’s shrieks of horror ripped at the night. “You
monsters!
They’re my
children!
” She tried to wrench herself away from the guards, thrashing and kicking and screaming, but to no avail.

The two guards restraining Ellok released his arms and stepped back. He pulled his arms across his chest and surveyed the destruction dispassionately while Narek approached him. “Thank you for the tip,” the captain said, plucking a bag jingling with coins from his cloak pocket and tossing it to Ellok.

I gaped at the old man, at a loss for words.

“
You,
” Jennah snarled, sounding more feral than human. She was on her knees now, fighting with all she had against the men who held her back. Smoke surrounded her like a swirling extension of her cloak and the golden flecks in her eyes shimmered like miniature fires of her own. She flung a series of filthy curses at Ellok, her voice raw with fury and desperation.

Ellok’s countenance was unmoved as he stared back at her, his beard so white in the surrounding darkness it hurt my eyes. His face was lit from the raging flames, revealing his wrinkled countenance scrunched up in distaste. “I am an old man, ready to rest in peace. I am not about to endanger my own or my family’s wellbeing for a foolhardy cause,” he spat. “One way or another, against a king who wields an entire army, against a kingdom that has done next to nothing to protest his rule, you and the rest of the idiot rebels will die.”

With Jennah still flinging insults at his back, he shoved the bag into his cloak and turned to slink into the night, his form melting into the blackness.

As Narek turned, his eyes settled on me. A crease settled between his brows and he strode toward me, pausing to stare into my face. He had been a young captain four years ago, and he still looked young now, but even the oldest of his guards gazed at him with deference. He was near enough that I could see the stubble lining his jaw and the recognition that sparked in his eyes. “Halia. You’re alive,” he breathed, smiling slowly until the hair on my arms prickled. “How nice to see that the princess has returned to her family. What a reunion
this
shall be.”

Cringing, I turned away, avoiding his gaze. None of the guards or the rebels betrayed any emotion, and I realized Narek had spoken too softly for anyone else to hear. I was ashamed to realize I was relieved. If they discovered who I was now, my rebel friends would probably hate me for holding onto my secret this long.

Narek looked at the guards restraining us all. “Take them to the castle dungeons.”

The guards wrenched us forward, guiding us through the shadowy streets even as crowds gathered at windows to peer out in fear. One of the men slammed his sword hilt into Jennah’s temple to stop her resistance. Her screams died on her lips as she fell unconscious, and the guard slung her unceremoniously across his shoulder. The rest of us remained mute and shuffled along without fighting. We were hopelessly outnumbered.

Slowly, the buildings around us fell away and the cliff loomed near, until, far too soon, we were standing at its base. The guards yanked us onto a winding path that zigzagged to the top of the peak, where the castle sprawled in all its stark glory. Soon snow began falling so thickly that the world turned blindingly white and I could only see a few feet in front of me. The men shoved me forward if I slipped or if my strides failed to match theirs. At first I shivered in the wind, but as we climbed higher, sweat broke out on my forehead.

At last we reached the top and the castle stood before us. A lump formed in my throat at the familiar sight, the focal point of so many nightmares, of so much longing and pain. We swept through the grounds, now mostly barren beneath snow and ice, past guards opening the main gate to us, and into the courtyard. Grim statues stared back at me and made my heart ache with their familiarity. There was no returning home without the bitter pang of childhood memories. Everything that was once dear was now a reminder of horrors, past and future. I tore my eyes away and stared at the ground. Two men threw open the castle doors for us. The guards led me through the great halls where I’d once lived, played, and laughed. Now I passed through as a prisoner, a criminal, a stranger. The same paintings and banners decorated the walls; the same rugs softened the floor beneath my feet; the same wide windows afforded views of the grounds stretching out beneath the darkening sky. If not for the men at my sides I could have almost imagined myself a child again, wandering the halls in search of my cousin. Everything was the same, yet different—wrong, cold.

My heart throbbed, pounding in my ears so that even my thoughts seemed muffled as I prayed for help.

The guards dragged us through a heavy wooden door and down a stone staircase, into the deep recesses of the castle, a place I had never been allowed to go. The air grew cold and heavy; it felt like the weight of the upper floors pressed down on us. When we paused before a second door, leading to the dungeon corridors, my hands were clammy and my mouth was dry. The guards positioned on either side of it checked us for any remaining weapons, stripping my companions of knives and daggers. Then they shoved open the door and stood aside for us to pass.

The dungeon corridors were long and narrow, with only flickering torchlight to guide our way. Damp and cold, the air reeked of years of foulness. Most of the cells we passed were open and empty, but a few of the doors were shut and padlocked. I was thankful that the grates were set high in the doors, high enough that I could easily look away; I did not want to see the hopeless faces of the prisoners we passed. I did not want to ponder my fate or the long hours and days that stretched before me until I received my sentence. Until I was brought before the king. My heart pounded in my chest as if it were a prisoner too, screaming to be set free.

After a few twists and turns through the dimness, my eyes began to adjust to the light. A guard halted beside one of the open cells, secluded from the occupied ones we had passed earlier, and gestured to the men clutching my arms. Without further ceremony, they shoved me inside and slammed the door. I heard the lock click into place and the retreating footsteps of the guards and my comrades as they were led off to their own distant cells.

The quiet settled around me so thickly I could scarcely breathe. The space was so narrow that I could cross the width of my cell in three steps before my fingers brushed against cold rock. It was only a little deeper. The torchlight from the corridor outside sputtered and my heart skipped a beat. Soon it would go out, and when would another patrolling guard bother to replace it? I would be left in complete darkness.

I had never been afraid of the dark, but the thought of having nothing but blackness, of emptiness, to stare into for hours—even days—made me panic. My mouth went dry.
Please, please don’t let the darkness last long
… I’d hardly thought the words before the torch sizzled out and darkness settled around me. Closing my eyes, I forced myself to draw a deep breath and exhale slowly. Once, twice.
It’s fine. It is only darkness
.
It is nothing
.

My head throbbed. I touched the wound near my temple to find that the blood had stopped running, but the cut stung. I winced and drew my fingers away. Disregarding how filthy and cold the rough stones were, I collapsed to the floor and curled up in a corner of the cell.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. After all, I was inside the palace like I had wanted to be.

But what can I do as a prisoner?
I thought bitterly.
Speak the truth so they can execute me properly this time?

My stomach dropped. The words the Life-Giver had spoken to me seemed so distant and unclear now. Had he really meant for me to return home and join the rebellion? What was I doing? The sense of purpose that the encounter had granted me was fading too. Avrik was right: I was mad. And now I was going to die.

I thought of my friends, somewhere in the royal dungeons also, awaiting their own death sentences. My strong, courageous friends willing to risk their lives to ensure their families and their people could someday be free of my father’s oppression. They had remained in the city and built a rebellion when I had fled. Yet despite their nobility, they would suffer the same fate as me.

Closing my eyes, I could still see Marke’s shop burning, the smoke blotting out the stars. Jennah’s screams still echoed in my ears.

The king and his men were monsters, and I felt powerless to stop them.

I realized my hands were shaking, so I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, clasping my fingers together tightly. Where was the Giver of Life now, when I’d agreed to use the gift he’d given me?
You gave me my life and a purpose. So give me my mission. Now what?

My only answer was silence.