“Lord Garret was on the battlements?”
Max nodded. “He had the Masters show him where the line to the orb was cut and asked a lot of questions that I couldn’t hear, but I got close enough to hear him ask who was on the battlements before the lights were sabotaged.”
“What did the Masters say?” Andreus had meant to ask them that question himself, but then his father and Micah’s bodies were brought back and the Trials happened and he hadn’t had the chance. There was something about the timing of those events, when he considered them together, that made him nervous.
Max screwed up his face into a mask of what was probably intense concentration. “The Masters said they were in their quarters when the line was cut, but the apprentices assigned to the watch said Lady Imogen, Elder Ulrich, and Captain Monteros were all on the battlements near the orb tower before the darkness came.”
All three often walked the battlements. Imogen to call the wind and study the stars. Captain Monteros to check on his guards and watch the mountains for the Xhelozi. And Elder Ulrich to talk to the Masters about their work on the windmills and the lights.
“Did Lord Garret say anything else?”
“He asked if anyone had seen Elder Jacobs.”
“Elder Jacobs? Why?”
“He didn’t say, Prince Andreus. And I couldn’t hear the Master’s answer, but I think he nodded his head and Lord Garret left. I was going to follow him like you told me to, but I couldn’t breathe and that’s when they called for Madame Jillian. But I did follow him before and heard him talking to Elder Cestrum. They were shouting so I could hear what he said.”
Whatever it was must have been intense since Max was white-faced and looked as if he was ready to bolt out of the Hall at any moment. “Tell me.”
“Elder Cestrum told Lord Garret that he was going to do his duty if he wanted to or not, and Lord Garret said it was clear Elder Cestrum had lost control of the Council and that there was more than one way to power. They had tried it Elder Cestrum’s way and now they were going to follow Lord Garret’s plan.”
“Did Lord Garret say what that plan was?”
Max shook his head. “The Chief Elder called Lord Garret a fool to give up power so easily, but Lord Garret said that his uncle was just like Prince Micah—that they thought there was only one kind of power. But Lord Garret knew there was power beyond the throne that none of them could see.”
“Is that all?”
Max swallowed hard and shook his head. “He said his uncle should be careful in playing both sides and that at some point he’d have to choose and he hoped his uncle chose the right side.”
“And what side was that?”
“I don’t know, Prince Andreus. Honest.”
“That’s okay, Max,” Andreus said. While much of Garret’s conversation with his uncle was a mystery, the part about not doing it Elder Cestrum’s way was clear. Garret was no longer counting on the Council of Elders’ plan to sit him on the Throne of Light. Garret had another plan, and Andreus was betting it involved his sister.
“Did I do a bad job?” Max asked with wide eyes that shimmered with tears. “I’m sorry I got sick. I promise I won’t next time. Honest. Can I go now?”
Andreus put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and felt him tremble. “Max, what’s wrong? Did something happen when you were following Lord Garret today? Did you see something that scared you?”
Max looked toward the front of the Hall at the throne shining in the light, and Andreus realized what the boy saw.
“Did you come into the Hall during the ball?”
Slowly, Max nodded his head. “Madame Jillian said I should rest, but I wanted to do a good job and all the lords and ladies were in here.”
“And you saw that boy die.”
“There was a baker’s son my sister used to play with named Varn,” he said quietly.
Pity and guilt stirred. “Max, there are laws that have to be obeyed. When laws are broken, the King has a duty to punish the lawbreakers. Now it’s time for you to go to bed. It’s late and I’m sure Lady Yasmie will have lots of chores for you tomorrow.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” Max gave a careful bow before running out of the hall.
“You are good with children, my prince.”
Andreus grabbed at the hilt of his sword and spun around as Imogen stepped out from behind the throne. She was still wearing her dress of yellow, but her hair that had been pinned and sculpted now flowed freely around her face.
The smile she gave him made her even lovelier as she patted the seat of the throne and beckoned for Andreus to join her. “I had heard you had rescued a sickly boy off the streets and brought him here to the castle. Everyone in the castle and in the city below was talking about your kindness, which is the same kindness you showed to me when I first came here and felt so alone.”
Andreus took Imogen’s soft outstretched hands in his. “I scared him . . . the boy I rescued.”
“He will come to understand why you had to do what you did,” Imogen said, leading Andreus to the Throne of Light. “And now he will think twice if he ever considers crossing you. A king cannot afford to associate with those who could be persuaded to betray.”
“Max would never betray me.”
“Perhaps not willingly. But he is a child and there are those who might take advantage of that.”
Andreus thought of the sabotaged lights and Max admitting he’d told a number of people about the test Andreus planned to run. The boy was enthusiastic and friendly. Both were endearing. Both could, if Max wasn’t careful, be deadly in a place filled with people so intent on wielding influence.
Imogen reached up and placed her hand against Andreus’s cheek. “Is there any doubt as to why my heart was yours from the moment we met? You looked at that young boy and saw past his sickness to the potential within. And believed that your kindness will be repaid with loyalty.”
“And you don’t?” he asked.
“Micah was hungry for power, but he studied the histories and he understood that for kings kindness is a tool, like any other.” She took his hand and led him to the throne. “And it is most used by one who has shown he is willing to evoke fear. Micah always liked to remind me of the vision I feigned and how there were men willing to speak of their part in making it come true if I ever dared cross him. Fear mixed with kindness is unsettling and powerful.”
Andreus tightened his hold on Imogen wondering what other things his brother had done to cause her fear. “You should have told me what Micah was doing.”
Imogen shook her head. “It was my choice to stay quiet just as it is my choice now to see how you wield your own power. Tonight you proved willing to use the fear and strength the crown bestows. Once you are on the throne, you will teach the Council and your subjects that they will bend to you or break. Once they learn that lesson, you can show them the kindness you have always shown me. Before then the people and your enemies will see any sign of mercy as weakness. Your father understood that. It was why he had no choice but to have your uncle killed.”
“My uncle committed treason.”
“That’s what your father said.” She put her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him down until he was seated on the Throne of Light. “The truth is what the man who sits in this chair wishes it to be. You belong on this throne, my prince. The kingdom needs you to stay safe. I need you.”
He let those words settle over him, washing away some of the doubt he felt at the look he’d seen in Max’s eyes and the guilt that lingered after emptying his sister’s bottles. Had he not known how she would suffer, it wouldn’t bother him. Or if he knew for certain she had betrayed him . . .
“You still look troubled, my prince.”
Andreus took her hand in his. “Do you know if they’ve located the seamstress seen talking to the assassin?”
Imogen sighed. “Captain Monteros sealed the gates, but so far no sign of her has been found, which is a shame.”
“Do you think she
would implicate my sister in the plot?”
“I doubt it. But you said the girl was someone you both knew when you were younger. The fact that your sister has kept her association with this girl a secret from you demonstrates how important she is to the Princess. That kind of affection is a weakness you could exploit to your advantage with the Council . . . and the people of Eden.”
Andreus thought of the row of empty glass bottles. “We don’t need the girl for that. My sister has more than one weakness.”
“I hope you are right, my prince. I saw the way she looked at the throne tonight. She is not winning the Trials, but she has made choices that have captured the hearts of many of the people, and once they hear of tonight’s trial and the choices she made, more will flock to her banner.”
“That will never happen.” Especially not after tomorrow, he thought. “Carys will break.”
Imogen placed her hands on his knees. “My vision still shows two paths before the kingdom—not one. You have to take care even if you don’t believe.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe.” It was that he couldn’t. “I’ve seen too many decisions based on visions that turn out wrong.”
“Visions are the Gods’ ways of sending us warnings to pay attention to the future. Seers are trained to report only what we see in the stars. But many seers seek to find power beyond their visions, giving meaning to that which the stars gave none. You may not believe in them, but that does not mean they aren’t real.” Standing, Imogen held out her hands. “Come with me to the tower. I can show you the stars that are guiding your way.”
He rose from the Throne of Light and looked down at the sapphires that glowed with an almost hypnotic light.
“Come, Prince Andreus, you can tell me what you have done to keep Eden safe from the path that leads to darkness and I will check the stars to see if they have changed their message.”
“I doubt I will be able to concentrate on the stars, my lady,” he said, running a finger down her face. “Not with your beauty distracting me.”
She laughed, but took his hand and wove her fingers through his. “Is it any wonder that I fear your sister’s jealousy will try to take this from us?”
“Carys cannot hurt us,” he assured her. “Trust me.”
17
They were gone.
Carys stared at the wardrobe as if she could will the bottles to reappear. Her head spun. The bottles had been here earlier. They should be here now. But they weren’t, and Carys could only think of one reason why they would be gone.
Andreus.
He must have realized she had lied about the Tears of Midnight. Part of her wanted to believe he wasn’t the one behind this—that it was the Council that had figured out her secret. Because Andreus knew what happened when her body craved the drink. He’d sat with her when she shook and sweated and screamed at him that she was dying. He held the bottle to her lips when he could no longer bear to see her suffer.
But that was the brother who needed her to act as his shield. The brother she saw in the Hall of Virtues tonight no longer wanted her aid, and this was his way of telling her that they were done.
Gods.
Carys rubbed her temples and tried to think. The welts on her back were already beginning to throb. Not terribly, but the wounds whimpered when she moved. By the start of the next trial tomorrow evening, it would be worse. Which is what her brother was counting on and something she couldn’t let happen. Andreus needed her even if he didn’t realize it anymore. She had to warn him about Imogen before Imogen had the chance to destroy Andreus the way she did Father and Micah, or before she could find and hurt Larkin.
Larkin. Fear gripped Carys anew as she wondered whether Errik had gotten her friend to safety. If not, the guards would be talking about her capture, as would Andreus.
She could feel the guard following her with his eyes as she walked down the hallway to her brother’s door. No one answered when she knocked, and the door was locked. She shook the handle several times and banged on the door again, calling her brother’s name, wanting to warn him with one breath and desperate to find the bottles with the other.
When the door remained bolted, Carys pushed away and headed downstairs, asking guards she passed if the traitor had been captured. They all said no, which made Carys sag with relief as she slipped into her mother’s sitting room and found it blazing with light from every corner. Not a shadow remained. Maybe Oben thought the light would chase away the darkness the Queen was fighting the way it kept the Xhelozi from the walls.
“Your Highness, is there something I can do for you?” Oben asked as he hurried to greet her.
“I came to see my mother,” she lied.
“The potion Madame Jillian gave her has pushed her into a deep sleep.”
“I will only be a moment,” she assured him as she opened her mother’s bedroom door and quickly closed it behind her. Here there was darkness. Her mother lay on the bed with her eyes closed. Candles flickered on the far end of the room as Carys quietly knelt, opened her mother’s small cabinet, and reached inside.
“You won’t find them.”
Her mother hadn’t moved, but her eyes were now open. White orbs among the shadows, looking at her as she said in a singsong voice, “He was already here.” Her mother pointed her finger to the desk beneath the window and Carys bit back a scream as she saw the red glass bottles all lined up perfectly in a row as if waiting for her.
Taunting her.
Carys reached for calm as she walked to the bottles and knew what she would find even as she picked each one of them up and held it to the light.
Empty. Not a drop left.
She wiped her hand under her nose and hurried toward her mother’s cabinet even though she knew what she would see.
“I thought I could fix it.”
The cabinet was completely empty.
“He took them. Perhaps I should have stopped him, but I didn’t. I have stopped it for as long as I could. It is time and soon everyone will know. The winds will come from the mountains. The orb will break. The Xhelozi are calling. Can’t you hear them?”
“Mother. Please,” Carys said as disappointment sliced through her soul. Her mother was no better. Still, she begged, “I need your help. Imogen was part of the plot to kill Father and Micah. She has to be stopped. You have to help me stop her.”
“Nothing can be stopped. He thinks taking the bottles has stopped something, but he’s wrong. And now he’ll know. They’ll all know.”
“Know what, Mother?”
Her mother’s hair was wild, but her eyes were clear. Her face was dead calm as she looked into the shadows. “I wanted to protect your brother so I hid what I knew. But I was wrong.”
“This is about the Council and Imogen, Mother,” Carys snapped. “This isn’t about the curse.”
“Of course it is,” her mother whispered. “Only I got it wrong. I thought your brother’s sickness was the sign of the curse.”
“I told you . . .”
“But it is not.” Her mother stared her dead in the eyes. “The Tears of Midnight weren’t to control your pain. I couldn’t care less about your pain. I made you drink it to control the curse in you.”
Carys stepped back and grabbed the cabinet as she shook her head. “That’s not true, Mother. Andreus is the one who has the attacks.”
“Is it any wonder I believed those were the signs? But I was wrong and the Xhelozi are calling.” Her mother sighed, fluffed her pillow, and lay back down. Smiling, she pulled the silk covers over herself. “When you crack the orb of Eden, they will destroy us all.”
Mother was still crazy, Carys told herself as she watched the Queen close her eyes. Her expression was tranquil and she refused to speak or look at Carys again despite Carys’s attempts to rouse her.
The words were crazy. Carys wasn’t cursed. She had spent her entire life shielding her brother. She had been told it was her duty to see him unharmed. Two halves of the same whole—only she had
been born normal while he was not.
“Did the Queen awaken, Your Highness?” Oben asked, but Carys pushed past him without answering and went out the door.
Cursed.
She shivered and wiped a line of sweat off her forehead as she walked quickly through the halls. Every guard she passed, every footstep she heard, made her speed her steps.
Cursed.
Was she?
Her father and brother were dead. Her mother was crazy. Her brother had turned against her. Larkin was hiding in the darkness below the castle in fear for her life. And soon she would begin to lose control of everything as the need for the red bottles kicked in.
Madame Jillian made the Tears of Midnight for the Queen. She could make more, but it took at least a week to distill the drink and the healer had delivered a batch to the Queen just days ago. Which meant there wouldn’t be any new Tears of Midnight ready for days.
Desperation clawed at Carys. She had to tell Andreus before Imogen made her next move. She had to get him to meet with her.
That’s when she remembered their plan and headed back to her rooms to write Andreus a note begging him to speak with her. Since Larkin was in the hidden room behind the tapestry of the nursery, Carys picked the battlements at dawn. No one would think twice about Andreus wandering the battlements that early and the sound of the windmills would conceal their conversation.
Her eyes were heavy and her back was sticky with sweat by the time she returned from sliding the note into the step she and Andreus had agreed on. The guard standing at her door stepped forward as she approached. “Excuse me for disturbing you, Princess,” the young guard said, looking at her shoulder instead of her eyes. “But one of the foreign dignitaries dropped by. He asked me to give you this.”
The guard held out his hand. In it was a red rose with parchment and a white ribbon wrapped around the stem.
“Thank you.” She started to turn away. Then looked back at the guard who had been her shadow for the last several days. “What is your name?” she asked.
“Graylem, Your Highness.” He raised his eyes up to hers.