Page 11 of A Power of Old


  A few moments later, the creatures were right on her tail, skulking through the undergrowth. As they drew closer, I started to look away—no matter how much I despised her, I wasn’t macabre enough to want to witness her death. But before they could pounce, Queen Trina stopped. She waved a hand in the direction of the creatures, smiling beatifically.

  What. The. Hell.

  “Are you seeing this?” I hissed to Memenion.

  The beasts started to emerge from the undergrowth, their heads down and their tails between their legs. They had instantly submitted to her.

  “I don’t understand…” Memenion spluttered.

  We both watched in amazement as Queen Trina continued to walk on, the creatures following her like domesticated pets.

  “What are they, her personal death hounds?” I snarled.

  “I wouldn’t put anything past her,” Memenion muttered. “And can you see how she’s walking? She knows this forest, mark my words.”

  I watched. Queen Trina did have the air of someone who knew exactly where they were going. She sidestepped over a fallen log, raising her hand to catch a thorny branch and move it out of her way.

  “You’re right,” I agreed. No doubt someone like Queen Trina felt perfectly at home in the Dauoa.

  “I think we should follow her. It will get us to the scepters and out of here a lot faster,” Memenion suggested.

  I nodded. I didn’t need to think twice. I wanted to know what other tricks Queen Trina had up her sleeve…and if she was a regular visitor to the Dauoa forest, I wanted to know why.

  We broke through the protective barrier and hurried to catch up with her. We made too much noise, but it couldn’t be helped—we’d lose her otherwise. I only hoped that the creatures were too entranced with their mistress to pay us any further attention.

  As we got closer, we slowed down the pace, focusing on making as little sound as we could. The beasts following Trina eventually seemed to tire of their worship and started to trail off in the opposite direction. I heaved a sigh of relief when the last one disappeared into the thicket.

  Trina started to hum softly to herself as she traveled through the forest. That, more than anything else, made my blood boil over. How dare she treat this task like it was nothing, like she knew she would emerge victorious? Memenion scowled—her jaunty little tune was obviously getting to him as well.

  We followed her onward. Now the sun was starting to set, and what little light had been visible between the trees was fading to a red and orange glow.

  Queen Trina stopped her humming, and I heard a giggle. At first I thought it was the queen, enjoying more of her leisure time in the forbidden forest, but it sounded too high-pitched to be coming from her.

  Queen Trina stopped again.

  “Out you come,” she announced merrily.

  I looked at Memenion in alarm.

  Does she mean us?

  Before I could move, or whisper to Memenion to run, little creatures started to emerge from the forest. They came from everywhere—scrambling down trees, appearing from burrows in the earth and out from under brambles.

  They were repulsive.

  Small, with little horns appearing out of their heads, the creatures were entirely green—and quite hairy. They crowded around Queen Trina while she cooed at them. One latched on to her leg, lovingly, looking in the direction of Memenion and me. We both ducked behind an old oak, my breath cut short as I prayed that it hadn’t seen us. Peering around the trunk, I looked at the creature again. It was still staring in our direction, but perhaps it hadn’t seen us – it didn’t warn Queen Trina or the other creatures, so I continued to watch in silent horror as it danced around their mistress. Its eyes were black, beady little things and when it smiled, rows of sharp little pointed teeth appeared.

  Goblins.

  I remembered Ruby mentioning these creatures from the Hellswan brothers’ trials. They were even more repulsive than I had imagined—Queen Trina’s adoration of them didn’t help. They squabbled with one another and played around her as she walked on, thankfully not noticing us following, but we now maintained more of a distance.

  Finally, after a few more miles, we saw a golden glow in the distance. Looking more closely, I saw four scepters suspended in mid-air, hovering over stone plinths. No sooner had we seen them than we heard a loud crashing sound coming from behind us.

  “It’s Hadalix,” Memenion breathed.

  If that was the sound he’d been making throughout the forest all day, it was a miracle he was still alive. He stormed through the bushes and thorns that stood in his way, heaving a club left and right as he knocked down everything in his path.

  The goblins fell silent. Then, as if there’d been some silent command that we couldn’t hear, they scattered back into the undergrowth and disappeared from sight.

  Queen Trina darted after them, changing direction.

  What’s she doing?

  We were only a few yards away from the scepters…

  I stayed with Memenion, both of us crouched down low, and watched as she walked silently back the way she’d just come, appearing right behind Hadalix a few moments later. They were only a few paces apart. Hadalix was making so much noise that he hadn’t heard her approach.

  She reached into the folds of her robe.

  What in Nevertide is she doing…

  “Look OUT!” I bellowed across the forest to Hadalix, but I was too late.

  Queen Trina had leapt up into the air, her dagger aimed for the king’s back. He moved to turn just a split second too late. He screamed as the dagger plunged into his spine. Bright red blood splattered across Queen Trina’s face as she smiled.

  Hadalix’s body crumpled pitifully to the ground.

  Are we next?

  Queen Trina looked up in my direction. I knew she could see me. Her smile became a laugh, and she waved.

  “I think she knew we were following her the entire time,” I breathed. Memenion didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed on the body of Hadalix, blood slowly spreading across the back of his robe.

  “She doesn’t care that we know,” I continued, outraged. “She thinks she’s untouchable!”

  She leapt over Hadalix’s body, running ahead toward the golden glows of the scepters. When she was out of sight, we both rushed toward the body of the king.

  “At least we have proof,” I gasped. “The Impartial Ministers can’t ignore this—her dagger’s been left as well.”

  It had been plunged into his body to the hilt, the unmistakable crest of the Seraq kingdom carved into its ornate pommel.

  “Let’s carry him back. Forget the scepters,” Memenion agreed. “Even if the ministers turn a blind eye, we have the evidence to bring her down. Not a soul in Nevertide will accept her rule as empress.”

  “You take the head,” I replied, positioning myself at the other end.

  As soon as Memenion bent down, I heard the menacing laughter of the goblins. They surrounded us, appearing as if they’d been lying in wait all along. I drew my blade as they approached.

  They ignored us completely. Their little green bodies scurried forward, launching themselves on Hadalix till he was covered by a swarming green mass.

  What are they doing?

  “Get off!” I yelled, poking one of them with my sword.

  “What are they…” Memenion trailed off as we heard the unmistakable sound of tearing flesh.

  “Oh, no,” I muttered.

  They were eating him.

  “ENOUGH!” bellowed Memenion, attacking them with his scythe. One of them grabbed the end of the blade as it came swooping toward them, and, yanking it out of Memenion’s grasp, threw it back onto the forest ground.

  The sounds of their munching grew louder, accompanied by breaking bones and the slosh of Hadalix’s organs being pulled out of place. I’m going to be sick.

  I lifted my sword, ready to strike, but before I could bring it down on the fiendish monsters, they scattered.

  “Oh, of all the
things…” Memenion turned away from the body. It wasn’t a pretty sight. There was certainly nothing left that resembled Hadalix—and the dagger had gone.

  “Let’s get the scepters.”

  Memenion nodded, picking up his discarded weapon, and walked on, not once looking back.

  I didn’t understand how Queen Trina had the audacity to be so brazen. Did she not care at all that we knew? Taking Ruby and Julian was one thing—if we’d exposed her for that, not many of the ministers would have batted an eyelid, and certainly not the Impartial Ministers. But killing a king was an entirely different matter. Queen Trina obviously thought she was above the law—above an attack from Memenion, me and Tejus, not to mention the entirety of Hadalix’s kingdom. Did she think no one would believe us? Or, more worryingly, was Queen Trina accessing some kind of power that meant she no longer feared the blade of a sentry?

  “Do we say anything to the Impartial Ministers?” I asked Memenion as we claimed our scepters.

  “I no longer know.” Memenion sighed. “It’s what she expects us to do…”

  “And she’s no fool.”

  “Exactly.”

  If Queen Trina was happy for us to inform them of her deed, then there was really no point in doing it whatsoever.

  We continued our journey back in silence. Soon we found the markings on the trees that we’d made on our way in and the whispering of the leaves returned. I couldn’t wait to leave this forest.

  I had one more question for Memenion before we exited the forest. I just didn’t know how much I trusted him. It wasn’t his actions that made me question him, more that this was Nevertide, and if I’d learnt anything over the last few days it was not to trust a single soul in this land till they’d proven themselves worthy of it. But perhaps Memenion had. Tejus trusted him, at least, and despite my personal opinion of Tejus, he now counted as one of the few I did trust—besides Ruby.

  ‘The Impartial Ministers,” I blurted out before I could change my mind. “Do you think they’re involved in this? Do you think they’re assisting Trina’s rise to empress?”

  “Be careful who you share that opinion with,” Memenion snapped at me. “But yes, I do. I can’t really make sense of her flaunting her treachery otherwise. Even without proof, the word of a king would ordinarily prompt an investigation at the very least. But in this case I doubt that’s going to happen.”

  “Maybe we should tell them, then,” I replied. “If they knew her plan, and she tells them that we saw her kill Hadalix, then it will look suspicious if we don’t say anything – like we suspect them of being in league with her.”

  “Good point,” Memenion grunted. “Let me do it—they’ll pay no attention to you.”

  I nodded, knowing that he didn’t mean the words unkindly. It was perfectly true—the Impartial Ministers didn’t see me as a valid champion—but that didn’t matter to me. Once it would have—it would have mattered a lot—but now I only cared about ensuring Queen Trina never got anywhere near that crown.

  “I’ll let Tejus know. I think it’s time Queen Trina got a taste of her own medicine,” I replied.

  “I don’t know if I’d trust Tejus to be the one to do it,” Memenion replied. “He may deny it now, but he loved her once. He’ll find revenge harder than he thinks.”

  I turned to the king in surprise, and he gave me a level look.

  “Just heed what I say,” he replied simply. “Matters of the heart are never as straightforward as we think.”

  We took our last steps out of the forest, holding our scepters aloft. The Impartial Ministers stood off in the distance. Queen Trina was not among them – she’d either left already or continued petting her creatures in the forest. They politely clapped our success as we drew closer, but all I could see on their faces was the smug satisfaction of treachery and betrayal.

  You’ll pay for this too, I thought to myself. All of you will pay, eventually.

  I turned away from the ministers in disgust, letting Memenion explain what we’d seen in the forest. I heard the skepticism in their voices, but eventually a few of them returned to the Dauoa to investigate. I waited with Memenion – knowing that it was pointless. Undoubtedly, they would return to say it was a goblin attack, without any evidence of Queen Trina being involved. But if we were to keep up the charade, then we should play our part – if we could convince the Queen that we were dumb enough to believe the Impartial Ministers were keeping these trials fair and unbiased, then hopefully we’d stay a step ahead of her…

  A few hours later, the Impartial Ministers returned from the shadows of the forest. They approached us slowly – their heads downcast and grim.

  Is that an act?

  I couldn’t tell. We waited for them to speak, to give their verdict of Hadalix’s death. The fact that they hadn’t returned with his body suggested to me that there probably wasn’t much left of it to return with.

  “Goblins,” said one. “That was Hadalix’s fate. You accuse the Queen unjustly, Memenion and Ashbik. We shall hear no more of your folly – let the dead rest in peace.”

  I met the eyes of the minister. He gazed back at me, unfazed. Perhaps he did believe what he was saying.

  “Let us leave, Ashbik,” Memenion muttered so only I could hear. “These ministers are either lying or stupid, or both.”

  “Queen Trina?” I questioned before we left. “Has she emerged yet?”

  “Before either of you, yes,” another minister replied. He glared at me reproachfully, as if I shouldn’t be questioning them – or her.

  “Fine,” I spat, before joining Memenion. As we strode away from the forest, I now had serious concerns about the outcome of the trials – the ministers were clearly against me winning. If they wanted me out of the running it would be all too easy for them to achieve that – and make it look like an accident. It seemed that Memenion would be Nevertide’s only hope in keeping Imperial power away from the clutches of Queen Trina.

  Tejus

  The wait was intolerable.

  All I could do was stare silently at Hazel as she curled up in a ball by the entrance to the temple. I wanted to comfort her, to hold her, but I couldn’t risk being syphoned before Benedict emerged. I would leave her exposed to danger that way. As it was, I was having a hard time forgiving myself for what I’d caused her to become. Seeing her around her friends was difficult – I knew that in time it would change, but I would do anything to spare her the agony of the growing period she was about to experience as she came into her powers and gradually learned to harness them.

  “Tejus!”

  I turned to see Ruby hurrying toward me.

  “I need to speak to you—now!”

  Glancing back at Hazel, I waited for her to react to the shouts of her friend, but when she made no movement, I realized she was asleep. It was probably for the best. I just had to keep in mind that she would probably wake up hungry.

  “What is it?” I snapped. Julian and Ragnhild were looking over in our direction, waiting curiously for Ruby to divulge whatever was bothering her. Instead of speaking, she shoved a letter into my hand.

  I was about to ask her what it was when I noticed the familiar handwriting. It belonged to Varga—what was Ruby doing with a letter from him? Without saying another word, I began to read what he had written.

  When I finished, I crumpled the paper into my fist. It needed to be burnt before anyone else saw it.

  “I thought he was a good man—at the end of it all,” Ruby whispered.

  I didn’t trust myself to speak.

  “He was just misguided,” she continued, “but he loved you like a brother.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat out. I didn’t want to hear Ruby’s opinion on the betrayal of my only friend. How insidious and sickening Queen Trina’s grip had been on him—on both of us.

  “Forgive him, Tejus,” she urged. “I don’t believe he ever meant you harm.”

  “You don’t?” I asked her.

  “
No!” she stated. “I just think he lost his way. And I don’t think he’s the only one guilty of that.”

  At the damning insult, she flounced back to where she’d been sitting, avoiding the wide-eyed stare of Julian, who had witnessed the exchange.

  Ignoring them all, I strode purposefully toward the water’s edge. The tide was out, leaving the damp sand littered with the debris of the sea—the bleached skeletons of its long-dead inhabitants, the soft sludge of underwater weeds and the stench of rot.

  I cursed my friend. The initial betrayal I could forgive—Queen Trina was a snake, capable of worming her way into the lives of anyone she wished, polluting their minds till they turned on friend and family alike. It was the years of silence that wounded me the most. He had been a coward—why had he never told me?

  Would you have ever spoken to him again if he had?

  Would you have banished him?

  Exposed him?

  Perhaps. It was too late to know for certain. I wanted to think that I wouldn’t have, that I would have forgiven him…but I could not say for sure. I had never managed to forgive my brother anything, so why would Varga have been any different?

  Frustrated, I unfurled the letter again.

  I should have known that Lithan was up to no good. I had suspected him of disloyalty, but the harmless, gossiping kind. I had been very careful to keep him close, but not to divulge anything that could damage my family or me. I hadn’t realized the true nature of his treachery…I had been too conceited, too arrogant to believe that he could do me any real harm.

  Fool, I cursed myself.

  My eyes were drawn back to the letter, Varga admitting that he had brought Queen Trina and me together at her insistence. How shameful that I had been so easily manipulated. I recalled how Varga had always encouraged it in the beginning, urging me to visit her, accompanying me to the palace time and time again…how I had supposed that we were all friends, not for a moment thinking I was the fly in some kind of intricately woven web.

  There had been one night that I now remembered with clarity. Trina often left our bed in the middle of the night—she claimed that she had trouble sleeping, and I never questioned it, as I was always happy to sleep alone. She would return at dawn, sleepy and doe-eyed, curling up to me. Once I had heard her and Varga talking outside the bedroom door before she returned, but I had thought nothing of it—it had been near the end of our relationship, and I had started to care less about what Trina said or did. I wondered now if they had been returning from an Acolyte meeting…if that was where she had been going every night—where they had both been going.