Page 17 of Son of the Drowned Empire

Chapter Sixteen

T he silver band around my wrist snapped open. Magic buzzed against my skin, flaring with heat, and the rope vanished. The Alissedari was over.

I stared at the exposed skin, the place where I’d been tethered to the arena, to my fate, to Garrett. I tightened my hold on him and caught sight of his uncuffed wrist. It looked so exposed and empty. The ghost of his bracelet had left behind the smallest shimmer.

A fog descended over me, slowing time, and yet, everything was happening around me all at once, too quickly. The fog grew thicker, heavier, drowning me. The silver ropes imprisoning the riders in the tournament faded, and the domed ceiling opened, revealing a black sky. Torches flamed to life around the Pit’s upper level, brightening the arena, signaling the end of the show for the audience, and I saw just how close Garrett truly had been to transforming from forsaken to akadim. I saw the black mark rising against his collarbone and the way his skin had paled unnaturally.

Every voice and sound came from far away yet was too close, too loud. Clear. A blur. A dream. A nightmare.

Aiden’s scream.

The announcement that the Alissedari had ended.

My name. My title. The announcement that I’d won.

The shuffling of coins by gamblers whose bets were honored.

Drinks poured. Drinks spilled.

Cheers. Hisses of disgust.

Aiden’s screams sliced through my soul. Garrett’s family and Ka were crying out. Garrett’s baby sister was sobbing. His mother was shrieking. I could hear it all. I could feel it all. Their anguish, their heartbreak.

My own heart was breaking in half. The beats slowing. Stopping. Just like they had before.

And there was Dario. Dario’s fury, his anguish, was like a pyre swallowing me whole.

There were so many screams. But none louder, none more gut-wrenching or painful, than the scream in my heart. In my soul.

My gryphon sank to the ground, and I held even tighter onto Garrett. Now was not the time to grieve. Now was not the time to cry or panic. The sky was too dark, the sun too low. We were out of time. He would transform—it would be soon. It couldn’t be out here, in front of his family, in front of Aiden.

He was gone. Dead. But his body remained in danger, and I still had to protect him. Still had one more task at hand. I could feel it in the dulled pain of my blood oath. It still sliced through my flesh, burned against my spine.

I couldn’t breathe. It was too much. Too heavy. Too real. I could feel the panic washing over me, drowning me, sinking me. Feel the grief, the horror.

No. Not yet, it couldn’t come yet, not until Garrett was safe—his body kept away, kept from becoming a monster.

I opened my mouth. I knew what I had to say, but I couldn’t get the words out. I couldn’t speak. It was like my nightmares when I couldn’t move, but this was worse.

It was too much for me. Garrett had had no idea when he’d made me swear just how much he was asking of me, just how far this oath would have me go.

I was too weak for this. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I didn’t want this to be real. I didn’t want this to be on me.

I looked down at Garrett, at my arms still holding him, and I began to fade. My stomach was twisting and turning, my vision was blurring, and my arms vanished and reappeared. My stomach tugged forward with a violent lurch.

I was going to travel.

My hand faded next, my body pulsing in and out of existence, here and not, here and not.

“Bind him,” my father ordered.

I craned my neck back. Dario ran with fire in his eyes, his sword pointed at my heart. Turion Efraim, Garrett’s father, raced toward me, his aura blazing with shock, with despair. Soturi raced for me in practiced formation, their daggers lifted. Arkturion Kane was among them, and Aiden was pushing through to the arena, his stave out, his mouth open. They were all coming for me.

My father’s mages were faster. Black glittering ropes unwound from their staves like snakes. A blast of white light rose from the ground, circling me, and forming a protective dome. A prison. I let go of Garrett as the ropes wound and slithered through the arena.

Now, I thought. I had to go now.

But I couldn’t. The ropes burned across my skin and my leathers, and bound my hands to my sides.

No. No. No.

Garrett rolled down the bronze gryphon’s wing, his eyes closed like he was sleeping. It made him look younger. It made him look alive.

But he wasn’t. He was forsaken. He was… Gods. He was going to change. Even now the black mark could be seen.

I reached for him, struggling against my bindings. Lifting him into my arms, I stood.

“Akadim!” I shouted, but the sound was lost to the chaos.

Arkturion Aemon joined the chaos on the field, his black shadows storming across the arena. He was blocking the soturi coming for me. Dario stared at Garrett’s lifeless body, his aura reaching out, pulsing, pounding like he was trying to breathe life back into his friend. He grabbed Aiden, who’d just rushed the field, holding him back, pushing his stave up to the sky as magic shot out. I could feel it—Aiden’s blind hatred, the force of his magic and will—seconds away from obliterating me.

He could do it. I’d welcome it. But I just had to do one more thing. One more thing to protect my friend.

“Akadim,” I said again. “Akadim.”

The ropes burned against me, warmer, tighter. It was too much. Garrett started to fall from my arms.

My eyes closed.

I woke in the dark, my entire body aching and sore. My skin itched, and my throat felt like it was coated in sand. I groaned, rolling over in the bed, and nearly rolled onto the floor. I gripped the edge, forcing myself to lay back.

I lay on a cot in Glemaria’s prison, Ha’Lyrotz. I recognized the gray walls, the familiar stench. I should have known the feel of the cot at once.

I tried to sit up, but something was holding me down. The ropes that bound me were dark, crisscrossing cruelly over my body.

A blue light flared to life in the hall outside the cell, casting an eerie light into my room. A vadati stone.

Bowen stood guard, one hand on his blade, his armor fully strapped into place. “He’s awake, Your Highness.”

Something was mumbled in response. The blue faded to white, then nothing. Darkness returned.

“Bowen,” I called, but my voice was still weak, scratchy, quiet. “Bowen.”

He stepped toward the bars, his hulking frame blocking the thin light from the hall. “Your Grace,” he said, his voice curt. “You’re awake.”

“Where’s Garrett?”

He pursed his lips together, his forehead furrowed, his eyes searching mine in concern. “Dead, Your Grace.”

“I know that! But his body!” I shouted desperately. “Where is he? What happened?”

“Entombed in the Temple of the Wind. His funeral is set for tomorrow.”

“Is he akadim?” I asked.

“Your Grace?” Bowen’s voice shook, and he looked at me like I was farther than Lethea.

“Is he akadim?” I stood from the cot, my head pounding. My entire face hurt, and it felt like every inch of my body had been punched.

“You’ve been unconscious a full day,” Bowen said gently. “You were injured. Do you not remember what happened?”

“I remember too Godsdamn well what happened!”

“Do you remember winning the Alissedari ?”

“Winning,” I spat, stepping to meet him at the bars. “I won nothing. Bowen, listen to me. Please. We were attacked after we found our gryphons. At least three akadim made their way into Glemaria. Unchecked. We—Garrett—killed one. A gryphon came to our aid. Killed another. It went after the third beast when we escaped. We raced back to warn everyone. The bells hadn’t rung. They’d slipped past our defenses. We tried to warn the guards here, but no one listened. The binding of the tournament pulled us in too quickly. And I didn’t know…didn’t know that Garrett’s soul…he was… he had a black mark, he was going to turn. So, I had to… I had to…” My voice broke, my accent so heavy, I could barely understand myself. Fuck. How was I going to get through this?

“Lord Rhyan, I understand that he was your friend, and you may regret—”

“Regret!” I snarled. “Of course, I fucking regret it. He was my best friend! You think I killed him on purpose—to win? You think I fucking care about that? I’m not making this up to excuse what happened. It is what happened. And we could all be in grave danger because of it. Now tell me! His body. Has anyone seen it?”

“Your Grace, Soturion Garrett remains entombed until his funeral.”

I slammed the bars. “We have to check. You can’t let his family see. And we can’t… can’t let him out. Not until we’re sure he’s…he’s not a threat.”

“He’s not a threat,” Bowen said carefully. “He died in the tournament, Your Grace.”

“He died forsaken! You know what that means!”

Bowen was still, watching me carefully, not speaking.

“You don’t believe me?” I yelled. “All these years, Bowen, have I ever been a liar? Confused? Delusional?”

He still looked uncertain, his eyes flicking down the hall before returning to me. A door opened and closed, echoing in the distance.

“Bowen!” I yelled.

“Soturion Garrett is dead, Your Grace,” he said again, but he looked pained saying it. As if he was being forced to.

And I understood all too well. He was under the compulsion of his blood oath.

“Bowen, please, tell me.” You know! I begged internally. I know you know.

“Your father wants to speak with you.” He stepped back from the bars, turning and bowing low.

My father’s boots echoed across the floor, the familiar heavy sound of his gait like a drum in my ears. “Bowen.” He nodded curtly on arriving in front of my cell. “Leave us.”

“Your Highness.” Bowen bowed once more, but his eyes flicked toward me. He frowned, his eyes darting to my father, one hand fisted as he stood tall. Then, he released his fingers, his hand limp at his side as he walked away. Like he always did.

“Thought you could sleep your way out of this one?” my father said, his voice cold.

“I thought nothing.” My fingers squeezed the bars, my knuckles white. “Where’s Garrett’s body?”

“Garrett Aravain?” he asked, something dangerous in his tone. “Garrett Aravain!”

“Where is his body?”

“You!” His aura blasted forward, filling my cell with the full force of his power.

I released the bars, too weak to hold onto them.

“You!” he shouted again.

I stumbled backward, the backs of my knees hitting the cot before I fell back.

“You had to fuck everything up. Killing the son of my turion! The fuck’s wrong with you?”

I scrambled to sit back up and rose to my feet, my entire body trembling with rage. “You wanted me to win. I did what you told me to do.”

“Win? Win? You foolish idiot. Of course, I wanted you to win! What son of the Imperator does not win an Alissedari ? Except for my son! My idiot offspring. I knew you’d fuck it up. Just like you always do. I arranged everything for you, laid out exactly what to do, and still! Why do you think you were surrounded by Ka Oryyan and Ka DeTerria? Brought to the Allurian Pass, the one place I knew you’d recognize? Even paired with your Godsdamned best friend? All you had to do was kill anyone other than the son of a Council member. But you couldn’t even do that right.” His neck was turning red, his nostrils flaring.

I flinched, my stomach turning.

“Why else do you think Thorin Oryyan attacked you so freely? Attacked an Heir Apparent when he’s the mere son of the senator? I fed you the one to kill. Set his Ka on you to ensure you’d harden yourself up enough for it, stop being so Godsdamned soft. But no! You killed Garrett!” He slammed the bars, leaving them vibrating with his violence. “You weren’t supposed to kill the boy the whole country knew as your friend! The one they all hailed as a hero since he killed the akadim!”

My knees gave out as I sat back on the cot. “Who then? Who was I supposed to kill?”

“Anyone else! I’d particularly hoped it would be Thorin's sniveling little cousin, Sev. You’ve seen him at the Academy. Poor marks. Poor skills. Barely tolerated by his family, let alone strangers. You think politics weren’t at play in that arena? It’s a wonder he’s survived the training this long. Sev’s death would have been a mercy.” He sneered. “There’s nothing worse than a weak member in a powerful Ka.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. He wasn’t talking about Sev.

“I even convinced your mother to warn you!”

My heart sank. I’d thought she’d sensed something intuitively, but she’d just been a pawn in his schemes. Like always.

“Thorin was given false hope, prepped to attack you. To make you move, make you act.”

Anger boiled inside me. Thorin’s attack had knocked me off my gryphon. Thorin’s attack had exposed us to akadim. Thorin’s attack had caused Garrett to…to…

My father slammed the bars again, his aura roiling with anger. “You saw how that bitch queen acted toward me. You knew what was at stake! If not Sev, then anyone else! Anyone whose father did not serve on my Council. How dare you win like this? How dare you ruin my celebration with your stupidity? How dare you taint my legacy with your idiotic actions.”

“How dare you ?” I was back on my feet before I realized I’d moved, rushing for the bars, my anger carrying me forward. “How dare you force such a vile event on your people? How dare you ignore the warnings of akadim. We were breached on Auriel’s Feast Day. And your soturi that you claim to be so strong were too late to stop them from getting to the fields of your own Godsdamned fortress. Your soturi weren’t there to stop them from posing a threat to your mages, to your novices, the people you’re supposed to protect! And then weeks later, three more akadim entered. And no one fucking knew! Where are they now?” I stilled. “Where’s Garrett’s body?”

My father stepped back and laughed. “Akadim? There are no akadim in Glemaria.”

There were no akadim in Glemaria? Just like the sleeves my mother wore were for fashion! Just like I hadn’t been illegally unbound before the Revelation Ceremony! Just like my father was a native of Glemaria without an accent!

My breath was heavy, my chest heaving with the truth I bore. “I had no choice but to kill Garrett. His soul was eaten. He was forsaken when I killed him. And if you don’t take the proper precautions, you’re going to open the tomb and unleash another akadim into the country.”

“You’re farther than Lethea, Rhyan,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet.

My entire body tensed, on high alert.

“No such things have occurred,” he said, false concern dripping from his words. “There were no akadim. In your desperation to win, you turned against one of your oldest friends. You murdered the son of my turion.”

“Stop,” I shouted. “Stop trying to fuck with my head! I know what happened!”

“Do you now?” he asked, his voice so calm, so confident in his lie.

My whole life he’d done this, made me doubt myself, forget the facts I’d been sure of. I couldn’t let him do this to me, not now. I could still see Garrett’s face in my mind—still see his black mark, remember the way his aura had weakened. I’d had no choice.

“Fuck your gryphon-shit lies! None of that is true. And you Godsdamned well know it. Are you really going to leave your Council members exposed? Garrett’s family? You don’t know what you’re doing if you don’t listen to me!”

He smoothed down his beard, his fingers stroking his chin. “Here is what I do know. I know that my country needs to be kept in check, and sometimes that means doing things that appear unseemly—like allowing an akadim attack from time to time. Creating just enough fear to keep my people in line and under control. How else do you think we keep the peace amongst so many warring Kavim laying claims to my Seat? Our Ka remains on top and unquestioned because of what I do. And you remain safe and pampered alongside your mother for the same reason. Do you think I don’t know everything happening before me? I knew the gryphons were sent by the Afeya. I knew our people would never accept their aid, and would see me as weak if I did—so I refused. I know what Garrett became. And now, I know this. You are my greatest liability. My greatest weakness. Half of the country is calling for your head. They’re naming you forsworn in the streets, condemning you as an oath-breaker. Turion Efraim wants your head on a stake. You should be grateful that I’m keeping you here. I put you in Ha’Lyrotz to save your Godsdamned life.”

A lump formed in my throat. I was going to be sick. I’d suspected he’d known about the akadim, thought maybe he was letting the attacks happen, letting our people suffer on purpose, but it was one thing to think it and another to hear him confirm the truth in plain words.

I’d always known who my father was, how he was with me, how he was with my mother. Why had I never suspected that this was how he was with the entire country? With the whole fucking North?

I sucked in a breath, my heart thundering. “Why admit it to me now? If I’m such an idiot, such an untrustworthy, stupid liability, why tell me?”

“So you understand. Your part in this isn’t over yet. I said you’d save your mother if you won.” He scoffed. “You only put her in more danger. I’m going to leave you here until this political fallout cools down. You will be Godsdamned grateful that this is all I’m doing to you. And then, by the Gods, you will pay the debt that is owed. You are going to make this right.”

“Make it right?” Nothing was going to make this right. Only the truth. But it wouldn’t bring back Garrett. “How?” My hands fisted.

“When it is time, I will send for you. If you value your life, you’ll do exactly as I say. And you will never again mention Garrett turning into an akadim. It’s been handled.” He turned on his heels, his black and gold cloak swinging behind him. “Bowen! Back to your post.” But he was already marching away from me. A moment later, the hall door slammed shut.

Bowen was still, standing in position across the hall from my cell, his breathing unusually heavy.

I retreated and sank back onto the cot, my head in my hands. “How? How will they have a funeral for him like this?” One look at his body, stretched and clawed, and they’d all know.

“They will have a funeral in the way they are always conducted,” Bowen said.

“That’s not possible,” I said, practically spitting between each word, “when his body is a demon’s.”

“Isn’t it?” he asked.

I looked up.

Bowen drummed his fingers along his dagger and glanced down the darkened hallway, then back to my cell, his gaze focused on the small window above my head. “I heard Aiden is a master of glamour,” he said nonchalantly.

“Don’t fucking talk about him!” I spat.

“The best the Mage Academy has seen in years. Decades, even.” He paused, his eyes meeting mine, and his hand stilled. “He was invited to study under Lord Aevan Chandor, wasn’t he? Received private lessons.”

I glared.

Aevan Chandor was my father’s Master of Spies. Aiden was a master of glamour partly from his own skill, partly because he’d learned from the best.

A glamour…

Bowen seemed to see the realization in my eyes as it happened, and he nodded. He was telling me what he could, what was allowed within the confines of his blood oath. There would be a funeral, and everyone—Garrett’s Ka, his parents, his sister Vanya, Dario, and Aiden—would all see the version of his body my father wanted them to see. They would have no idea I’d killed Garrett to try and save him from a worse fate, to fulfill my oath. They would mourn him, but they wouldn’t know he had been a hero again. No one would know how brave he’d been until the end.

And no one…no one would mourn me. I’d stay here. Hated. Forsworn. A monster in their eyes. I’d never be absolved because my father would rather appear strong than admit weakness, even if it cost me my life. It was better to have a son as a murderer, than admit he’d let akadim inside.

I lay down on the cot, my back itching. The scar still burned, which meant some part of Garrett still lived. And despite everything, despite how hopeless it all was, I still had to find a way to protect him.