Wrath Games (16 page)

“I could never hold it against you.”
If only I had the chance to apologize to Eizle like Laney did to me.

The door to Shara’s room opened. Darri entered, two more behind him, two more behind them…and then two more, half with bows. The room was heavy with apprehension.

“Keep this civil, Neeko,” Darri said.

“Keep what civil?”

“We know about the poisoning and the brawl in the great library.”

Which meant he only knew what Gram
told
him had happened. I could guess what that was.

“Where are we going?”

“Laney’s going back to Mayla’s room. You’re coming with us.”

Laney pulled my shoulder to get my ear near her mouth. “Do we fight?” she whispered.

“You mustn’t fight anyone unless you’re certain your life is in danger. Otherwise you’ll be put back in prison.” It seemed too risky to warn her that she could end up back in prison anyway after Gram or Swenn’s lies reached the king. Of course the same was true about me. I could be on my way there today. Two hells, what a fight I would put up, though.

Darri and the six men with him escorted me to my room. The carpet was stained by Shara’s blood, a black circle marred one wall—from a wild fireball, I assumed—and the curtains around an open window were puddled on the floor, ripped from the bar above.

I turned at the sound of my door shutting. Darri was the only one still with me, the others most likely right outside. He put his sword into the scabbard on his belt and silently walked to the open window where he glanced through it, saw nothing, then latched it shut.

“What has Gram said?” I asked.

“That you broke into the great library, stole a book, refused to give up when caught, and used py in a fight to escape.”

“What about Swenn?”

Darri walked in a circle around my entire room, checking beneath my bed, behind my wardrobe, inside of it, everywhere someone could be hiding. I set myself onto a chair, exhausted from the sleepless night. Darri came before me and spoke with a low voice.

“Do you understand that you’re a target?”

“Yes, but how do you know that?”

“Swenn always makes it clear who his targets are.” Darri stopped himself. “Speak any of this and it’ll be the last time you’ll ever be helped.”

“Thank you.”

He shook his head. “No, don’t thank me. Promise me.”

“No one will hear what you tell me. I promise.”

“Swenn has no tolerance. Cross him once, you lose your job and you’re out of the army. If he hears you talking badly about him—even if there’s just a rumor that you said something—you’re done. If you hear someone talk badly about him and don’t report it, you’re done. If he suspects you of thinking ill about him, you’re done. You’re either against him or you’re with him. If you try to act neutral—”

“You’re done. I got it.”

“No, you don’t because that’s just the beginning. He rewards loyalty in ways I’ve never seen before, copious amounts of money, protection, gifts. He shows you he’s responsible for all of your pleasure and your pain, and it’s up to you which you choose. He’ll do terrible things to people he doesn’t even know at the slightest hint of a complaint about them from someone who’s loyal to him. Every reaction is an overreaction.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. He ruined my childhood simply because he was jealous I could manipulate pyforial energy.”

“I know you mean well, but there’s nothing I can do against Swenn. The one person I heard of who complained to the king about him was destroyed.”

As the room fell silent, Darri cupped his hand around his ear. He shook his head. “I’m terrified just speaking about this.”

“What would you have me do with this knowledge?” I asked.

“Don’t share it with anyone, even the king. It will come back to me—the one who was alone with you long enough to tell you these things. The truth is that I don’t know what you should do. I just felt you deserved to know.”

“Does this mean the bounty on my head isn’t as dangerous as I first thought?”

“I don’t know anything about that, but I would treat any bounty I hear about as seriously as the plague. While many of us merely act loyal to Swenn, he does have staunch followers.”

“Certainly Gram, but what about Henry?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Was he here before Swenn?”

“No, hired soon after. They must’ve known each other from before.”

“What did Henry do before I got here?”

“Whatever Swenn wanted him to do. It’s rumored he’s killed. We’re running out of time; the king will be here any moment about the incident in the great library.”

“I’ll be punished?”

“I don’t know. No time for speculation.” He stood over me. “I need to ask for a favor.”

“What is it?”

“Not now, but later I’ll need something. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

He smiled, then frowned as something else clearly occurred to him. “Don’t take it upon yourself to punish Swenn. The gods will make sure he gets what he deserves in this life and the next.”

Was Darri aware that I didn’t share his belief in the gods?
He will soon enough.

“How do you know your gods don’t want you to be brave?”

His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You’re relying on them to do what you think is right,” I explained. “But how do you know your gods aren’t waiting for you to bring Swenn to justice?”

He scratched his head for a long while.

“They’re your gods as well,” he finally said.

“That remains to be seen.”

Our conversation ended when the king swept in behind a throng of guards. He motioned for me, and I responded like the obedient pet I needed to be. He would scold me for the battle in the great library, and I hoped that was all he’d do. But his stormy expression left a lot to be guessed.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Quince brought me through the great library, allowing me to see the damage my skirmish had caused. The walls were cracked where arrows had struck. The usually pristine floor of black and white marble was scuffed where I remembered Gram stopping me.

All of it wasn’t so bad, actually, except for the wide piles of books scattered between most rows. I don’t know who made that mess, but it wasn’t me.
Probably Gram after I escaped; he must’ve been enraged.

The door at the back was open, all traces of battle gone. The king and one of his guards took lamps from the first two tables.

They led me through without a word, past shelves of books covering the walls and sleek tables of brown wood just like the one where Swenn and his squire had been seated when I’d surprised them.
What had they been doing down here?

His squire obviously had climbed down from my bedroom window after stabbing Shara. His route must’ve taken him to Swenn to report the outcome. But then why did they end up here instead of in Swenn’s room?

The answer became clear when I followed the king deep enough that we’d left the books behind us. This area behind the library was vast, the low ceiling and unadorned walls unfitting to the rest of the castle. With four paths available, at least one had to lead to my bedroom. They had come down here to plot, probably to make another attempt at Shara or myself without needing to come through the library where they’d be seen.

I’d been going about this wrong. Swenn and I weren’t just enemies. We were at war.

The king took me down a path that descended for a while, until I figured we were beneath the first floor of the castle. I heard murmurs and echoes. We clearly weren’t alone.

We came to a grille, ugly and rusted over, certainly no one’s job to maintain. The king drew a key as the guard held his lamp near the thin slot for his majesty.

As we crossed by the open grille and the sad sounds of hopeless wails filled my ears with terrible clarity, I realized where we were. It was a prison.

“Sire?” I tested, unsure what else to say.

He gave no response. My hands started to shake, adrenaline pushing away all traces of my exhaustion. I wouldn’t be locked away from the world without a fight…but when would I know it was about to happen? I couldn’t do anything to harm the king before I was certain. I told myself to wait until I saw the solid metal door of my cell. Then I would strike.

We stopped outside an ordinary jail cell, but the man inside was no ordinary prisoner. Dressed in a boiled leather tunic, with a sword on his lap, he seemed to be waiting for battle. He jumped up at the sight of us.

“I am commanding you to kill this man,” Quince told me. “Do not let him out.”

Without warning, the king unlocked the cell door and one of his guards pushed me in. My armored quarry looked me over and grinned.

No one closed the cell door behind me, so I pulled it shut. Without a key, though, I couldn’t lock it.

“Who is he?” I asked the king without taking my eyes away from the smirking man.

“I gave you an order,” he responded.

My target pointed his weapon. “Who are you?”

What did he want, a name? “Neeko.”

“Are you going to kill me?” He snickered.

No.
But what else could I do?

He smiled, probably reading my silence as fear. “You’re young.”

Compared to him, yes, though he didn’t appear particularly strong or skilled with that sword he kept waving about.

“Is that the king behind you?” he asked.

“It is.”

“I’ve never met the king.” He looked over my shoulder. “What happens if I kill this stripling, king? Am I free?”

I barely heard a guard whisper, “Shall I lock the door?”

“No need. Neeko will do as he is told.”

This is my test,
I realized.
If I don’t kill this man, my time in the castle and the army is over.

“I hope you’ve had a nice life, Neeko.” He calmly walked toward me. I pushed him back with py to give myself time to think.

Because I never raised my arm, he was confused, stumbling backward with a look of absolute bewilderment. He tried again, walking more cautiously this time. I still hadn’t come around to the idea of killing him, so I pushed him back once more.

His face held terror. “That’s you doing that!” A stream of curses came from his mouth as he backed away hastily. After bumping against the wall, he sidestepped to the corner, still cursing. He cowered there, sinking to the floor and putting his knees up around his chest with his arms protecting his neck.

“What did he do wrong?” I asked the king.

“That does not matter, Neeko. I am commanding you to kill him.”

I would be allowed no more questions. But I couldn’t kill this terrified man who wasn’t even fighting back.

Or could I?

I approached, hoping he would lift his sword and rush at me. Instead, he wet himself.

I can’t do this.

Quince saw me stop. “He is more deserving of death than anyone you will face in battle. If you cannot kill him, then you are useless to me.”

I took another step but halted again when the man cried out in fear.

Quince’s voice rang out. “Do you plan to ask the crimes of every man before you slay him in battle?”

“No, sire.”

“Do you plan to wait until every man has first attacked you before you slay him in battle?”

“No, sire.”

“Then you will not do either now.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off the man whose life I was supposed to end. The smell of urine came on strong as I drew closer.

“This is your last chance before my mind is set.” Quince’s voice was without hesitation, denoting his readiness to end this test if I didn’t act immediately.

Was it worth losing my freedom to let this man live? Would he be killed by someone else as soon as I failed? Gods, I wished I knew what he’d done.

He began to cry. I gathered py and moved it to the pommel of his rusty sword. With a forceful pull, I wrenched the sword from his hands. He darted after it as I yanked it toward my feet.

Unable to catch it, he wailed as he stopped and hurried back to the corner. “Please,
please!
”

I felt the weight of the world pressing on my heart. It almost forced tears out of my eyes, but I kept my strength to hold them back.
I won’t let
Quince see me cry.

I thought of the most merciful way I could do this and quickness came to mind. With a breath, I was as ready as I ever would be. I pushed him against the wall with py.

I closed my mind, focusing everything on my task, not on his screams of terror or the smell of his loosened bowels. I got a good hold on the sword with py, aimed at his chest, and hurled the blade across the room, driving it into his chest with more force than if I’d thrown it from a running start.

Straight into the heart. It would be over soon.

But he clung to his last vestige of life, groaning and searching for breath. As he slid to the floor I looked away, unable to ignore the sound of his gasps as they faded.

The guards before the king stood shoulder to shoulder, their own swords ready.

“Relax,” I told them. “If the king was really worried about me attacking him, he’d bring bowmen.” The rage I carried came out sounding like derision.
Good, perhaps Quince will believe this task was less difficult than it was.

By his disapproving expression, however, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“Stay in there while I talk with my men,” Quince said, locking the door from the outside and making me feel closer to an animal than a man. “And give us the sword.”

As much as I wanted to keep the weapon until I was let out, I didn’t hesitate obeying his order. I felt different than I had moments ago, emptier, like my true self was hidden somewhere deep within a vast shell. I looked at the man I’d slayed and felt no remorse, nothing.
Protection,
I figured,
against my own heart and mind.

One of the king’s guards took the sword and walked with it down the hall, where he left it out of sight before returning.

“I knew it would be a challenge to allow a pyforial mage in my castle,” Quince said. “But it is your flagrant actions that have left me truly ambivalent about my decision. Gods and hells, Neeko, you were caught breaking into the great library in the depths of the night with a fickle woman who has five times the power she has sense!”