Page 25

"What do you want?" The bastard was teasing him.

Lars chewed on the inside of his mouth in frustration, not wanting to speak the words.

The door opened. It was Phoenix, back with an attendant in tow to clean up the mess. "Colonel," he said.

"Sir," Griffin replied, standing at attention. The tone had changed—military ranking had taken precedence again.

"We're needed downstairs."

Griffin nodded, and the brothers moved to leave. "Get some rest," Phoenix told Lars. "Someone will be here to periodically check on you." Then they disappeared from the room.

Lars sat in the bed and stared blankly at the door as it pulled shut. The room was silent, save for the tinkling of glass as the attendant swept the shards into a wooden dustpan.

No, it wasn't affection they felt for him. It was just their lust for control.

* * *

He was sore and bruised but nothing had been broken in the attack, so the following day Lars was already able to get out of bed and move around. He sat by the window and watched the warbler prune itself. It was younger than the one his mother had once kept in the aviary; it still bore some of the luminescent down feathering of a juvenile. He opened the little door on the cage and slowly stuck his hand in. To his surprise and delight, the bird hopped onto his palm. It weighed almost nothing, its little claws pricking into his skin.

Griffin and Phoenix were occupied by their military duties and had hardly returned to the room, but they’d both told Lars he was free to leave the building if he desired. This took Lars by surprise; he'd fully expected Phoenix to want to keep him under lock and key, or at least under supervision. But even with the ability to move freely, Lars was hesitant to do so. His first steps into the world without someone handling him had ended up in disaster, and it'd frightened him. Was this his fate? Was he not meant to live free?

But after gathering up some courage, Lars decided to try again.

He left the room and walked out to the balcony overlooking the center atrium of the building. He peered over the railing, down five stories to the bottom floor. A collection of people milled about in the lobby, some kind of official gathering by the way they were all dressed. Were Phoenix and Griffin down there among them? He couldn't imagine them suffering the company of bureaucrats and dignitaries.

Lars walked down the stairs to the next floor, the walls of which were adorned with large and exquisite oil paintings of epic scenes from ancient history and common shifter mythology. He walked around, looking at all of the artwork, when he came to an empty space at the far end of the room. He could see that a painting was missing—the wall was discolored in the shape of the frame that once hung there.

"By the order of the Empire, all imagery of the former ruling party must be destroyed."

Lars spun around in surprise. Pym Longfang stood behind him, rubbing his chin as he gazed at the blank space on the wall. "Mr. Longfang," Lars said.

"I'm sorry. Did I startle you?"

"No," Lars said, shaking his head. He turned back to the wall. "So, you mean to say that the painting once here was of..."

"Indeed. The king and queen of Ekdol, Their Royal Highnesses Anthy and Lionel Lyandri."

His mother and father. Lars stared at the wall, trying to will their faces in his mind. Maybe it was better the painting had been removed. He didn't know if he could've dealt with seeing them. But he did want to. He missed them, especially his mother.

"So, all the paintings of the Ekdolian royalty were destroyed?" Lars asked.

"That's what the order says. It's been that way since the beginning, since this madness started half a century ago. Wash the memory of the past from the minds of the people and assimilate them as quickly as possible. Thankfully, my country is in a position to ally with the Empire. Far too remote for an invasion to be desirable."

"You don't like the Empire," Lars said.

Pym smiled. "Can you tell?" He held his finger to his lips. "Shh. Don't tell your mates."

Lars laughed—perhaps for the first time since the Empire crossed into Ekdolian lands. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me."

"I've been on assignment here for the past week and a half," said Pym. "Being stuck in this building for so many days made me restless. There are many rooms here, some more obscured than others, but I indulged myself and explored what I could find." He leaned in conspiratorially. "And I have another secret to tell you. Would you like to know?"

Lars felt his heart jump. "I don't know. Do I want to know?"

"I think you do."

"Then tell me."

"The painting wasn't destroyed. Not yet, at least. I found it in one of the rooms here."