Page 48

XERXES

The screams in the Hall were deafening. A window shattered from people trying to escape through it. The air buzzed with frantic shouts, with terror.

Xerxes had spotted the assassin the moment Ryn leapt in front of him.

He couldn’t move fast enough; he’d grabbed Ryn to spin her, to pull her out of sight, to turn his back into her shield even—but someone else got there first—a blond fellow.

The whole Hall of Stars erupted into chaos.

Arrows were flying, bodies were falling to the floor.

Xerxes unsheathed the sword fastened to Ryn’s back.

He wanted to shout at her, he wanted to scream and demand to know why she’d recklessly put herself in his place.

Instead, he stepped off the stage, and he scanned the crowd for other threats as his blood boiled, as his flesh turned ice-cold, as the whisper of water crawled over his skin.

Someone had tried to shoot him. The King.

“Kill! Kill! Kill!”

Yes, he would. He would kill today.

He moved to charge the crowds and annihilate every enemy when a delicate cry filled his ears. His gaze brushed over the blurs of colours and commotion in the room, finding her.

Ryn had moved off the stage and now hovered over the blond fellow on the floor. She was covered in his blood; her dress stained red, her cheeks wet with tears, her sobs an agonized symphony to the Divinities in the sky as she clutched his collar.

The dampness fled Xerxes’s skin. The fire left his veins.

He let the sword slip from his fingers. It clattered to the ground as he marched toward her, but he stopped short when Ryn lifted her watery eyes to him. The look on her face was one he didn’t recognize.

She pointed at him with a trembling hand.

“You said you’d keep him safe,” she rasped, and all the stars in the heavens fell upon Xerxes in that moment.

“You promised me. You broke your promise, Xerxes!” Ryn screamed it, and Xerxes found he couldn’t move, that his feet had frozen together.

“You promised… My friend…” She broke into a well of sobs, a shuddering frame that was once a glass monument of joy, now shattered to a thousand pieces across the floor of the Hall of Stars.

It occurred to Xerxes that he had, in fact, made a promise.

And he’d kept it. He’d gone out of his way to request that Matthias do a long scout around the outside of the palace wall tonight—which should have taken him hours.

But Xerxes hadn’t personally seen to it that Matthias had left; with everything going on in his battle of wills with the Intelligentsia, he’d been distracted. And now…

Now Ryn would hate him forever. He was sure of it.

Someone unfamiliar appeared over Ryn; a young man in a cloak, holding a bow. He dropped to a knee, and he dragged her to him. Ryn leaned into his shoulder and his cloak caught her tears. Xerxes could only watch.

“Your Majesty!” A Folke appeared at Xerxes’s side. He pointed to where Xerxes was already looking. “That young man just shot the B’rei Mira assassin, but none of us recognize him.”

Xerxes did a quick study of the fellow’s street clothes that made it obvious he wasn’t a visiting noble for the trial. But he couldn’t be dangerous if he’d shot the assassin.

“Bring the Folke commanders to the Strategy Hall. And I don’t want the Intelligentsia there for the meeting. Bar them out,” Xerxes stated. “No exceptions.”

The Folke glanced at Xerxes in question, but he bowed and left obediently.

Broomsticks rushed into the Hall and began sweeping up fragmented glass. Whatever visitors were left were ushered out by the Folke. The Intelligentsia were in a heated discussion at the far end of the room. Belorme had vanished.

It took Xerxes several seconds to find the courage to move. He swallowed and marched to where Ryn and the fellow were. He looked at the young man, unable to make eye contact with Ryn. “How did you get into the palace?” he asked.

The fellow had a hard gaze. He glowered at Xerxes; the coldness coming off him was enough to chill the room. “I followed the spy here. When he snuck in, I snuck in after him,” he finally said.

Xerxes nodded, eyeing him. “Who are you?”

The fellow hesitated to answer. But when he did, he said, “Just a concerned Weylin citizen looking out for my King.”

Xerxes let his eyes flicker to Ryn for the first time. She looked like a ghost, pale and lost to another place. Her lips had grown dry, her eyes puffy. By the way the fellow clutched her, Xerxes had his doubts about who the fellow had come here to protect.

He opened his mouth to challenge the fellow.

“He’s my cousin,” Ryn rasped, and Xerxes went silent.

Cousin. Ryn had a cousin?

Xerxes didn’t know why it surprised him that Ryn had family in Per-Siana. Perhaps he’d assumed that because her father was evil and her house had been empty, the rest of her family weren’t in her life.

“How did you know to stop that assassin? How did you know what he was here to do in the first place?” Xerxes asked the fellow again.

“I overheard their plan.” The young man climbed to his feet, gently pulling Ryn up with him. She leaned against his arm as though she’d fall over if she didn’t. She finally— finally pulled her empty gaze up to Xerxes. It sent a chill down his spine.

“I speak the B’rei Mira tongue,” the fellow added.

Xerxes nodded. “You said ‘ their’ plan,” he pointed out. “That means there are more assassins here.”

“Yes.”

“Can you identify them?” Xerxes asked.

The fellow nodded. So, Xerxes nodded, too.

“Good. Come with me then. And Ryn…” Xerxes swallowed. He was having a hard time not reaching for her. She stood close to him, but she felt very far away. “I’m sorry.”

It wasn’t enough. It was a fool’s response to what had happened. Xerxes had never valued human life enough—it was the worst side effect of his constant torment. But in this moment, he wished he cared for others the way she did.

A young, panic-stricken artist jogged through the Hall of Stars on loud-heeled shoes. He caught Ryn dramatically when he reached her. “Estheryn,” he said. “Come to your rooms. I’ll take care of you.”

The fellow let Ryn go to the artist, but he followed her across the room with his gaze until she disappeared through the arch.

When it was just the two of them, the gaze of Ryn’s cousin cut back to Xerxes. There was a strange glow there. Xerxes had the strangest feeling the fellow was thinking of doing something rash right there in the Hall of Stars. Like attacking a monster.

“Let’s be honest with each other now,” Xerxes said. “You never set foot in this palace out of concern for me.”

“No,” the young man agreed. “I didn’t.”

Xerxes nodded slowly. “At least you’re honest,” he muttered as he turned for the arch that would take him to the Strategy Hall. “Follow me,” he said. He heard the fellow’s footsteps over the tiled floors a second later. When he got to the Strategy Hall, he made one loud announcement as he came in:

“I give this man full authority over the Folke,” he said. The fellow behind him choked through an inhale. “Provide him with whatever he asks for until we find every one of the B’rei Mira spies in the palace and in the city. Anyone who disobeys or undermines his orders will answer to me.”

The Folke stood a little straighter. One of the commanders bowed slightly and asked, “Of course, Your Majesty. What is this leader’s name?”

Xerxes opened his mouth. It hung open there. He glanced over at the fellow when he realized he hadn’t a clue.

Ryn’s cousin seemed to have lost his tongue. But he cleared his throat after a moment and said in a strange, quiet voice, “Kai Electus.”

“I trust Head Commander Electus with my life,” Xerxes stated, and the fellow’s head snapped toward Xerxes. Xerxes met his gaze. “We’ll begin our hunt at dawn.”

No, Xerxes did not expect this Kai Electus fellow to care about him one bit. But as long as Ryn was here, her cousin would fight for her. That was obvious.

And maybe Xerxes was tired of fighting for Ryn alone.

He turned back to the Folke. “One last thing,” he said. “If I discover any of you are taking bribes from the Intelligentsia… You’ll be cast into prison for the rest of your life. Do you understand?”

The number of faces that went stricken was telling.

The following week was chillier than normal.

Xerxes wore a wool sweater and sipped hot tea as he leaned against the archway to the Abandoned Temple.

He watched Ryn in silence. Her eyes were closed.

She hadn’t moved a muscle in nearly an hour from where she sat cross-legged in the water.

Xerxes knew he had to leave soon, that he couldn’t just stand here and watch her forever.

Seven days had passed since the senses trial. Xerxes hadn’t been able to sleep much.

He had, however, been able to leave the spy hunting to Kai Electus—which was more of a surprise to Xerxes than anything. The bow wielder had proven to be better at tracking down and cornering Xerxes’s enemies than Xerxes was himself.

Eight spies from B’rei Mira had been captured so far—one more in the palace, seven out in the streets. According to Commander Electus, there was still one more to be found that he knew of.

Xerxes planned to interrogate the spies now that they were rounded up. He’d been on his way to the dungeons when he found himself standing outside the Abandoned Temple instead, watching a maiden pray.

He downed the last of his tea, and he turned to leave her alone. He would make things right with Ryn when she was ready, but she wasn’t ready yet. He had work to do anyway.

Xerxes had foregone his coat of nobility and crown the last few days. Only his signet ring indicated he was the ruler of Per-Siana. But it was difficult to get dressed in his royal robes in the mornings when he didn’t feel like much of a king.

After the assassination attempt, Xerxes had issued a decree that the Heatstealer trials be put on hold until every spy was captured.

The council had agreed—thank the Celestial Divinities.

Though the senses trial had destroyed many things, it had also opened people’s eyes.

Citizens were starting to wonder about B’rei Mira now.

Wondering if something terrible was coming to Per-Siana.

Despite all that had happened, Xerxes expected it to be a fairly normal, non-eventful day.

But that was not what occurred.

The evening came with a headache.

“Hungry.”

Xerxes knocked his knuckles off his head as he sank into the hot baths. He tried to relax against the stone, but the voices wouldn’t shut up.

“You must kill the maiden.”

His eyes opened slowly.

“She must die today.”

“She is the enemy.”

“Quiet,” Xerxes muttered. He smacked the water, sending a wave of sprinkles into the next pool over. He adjusted his head along the pool’s edge to take a nap—

“YOU MUST KILL HER.”

“KILL FOR US.”

“KILL!”

“YOU WILL ONLY FEEL BETTER IF YOU KILL!”

Xerxes leapt from the stone bench, splashing water out of the pool. He gripped the rock, his heart beating faster, his skin growing tight. His vision blurred.

“KILL THE ENEMY!” many voices said.

The headache turned to searing pain, and Xerxes held his temples. “Ah!” he growled. “Why are you so obsessed with death?!” he shouted at the voices. “Leave me alone!”

Every voice in his head flooded in at once.

Xerxes gasped as the noise became unbearable; he couldn’t understand what they were saying anymore.

Half his vision turned black. His lungs tightened as he pulled himself out of the pool and stumbled for the bathrobes.

He barely got one around himself before he tipped out of the pool room and collided with the opposite wall, blinking against blurry shapes and dragging himself forward in clumsy steps, following a path by memory.

The door to the spiral staircase banged open. Xerxes nearly fell down the stairs on his way down. The further into the basement he got, the louder his voices shouted, and he released a screech as he raced the last steps to his tree.

The golden pears were the only thing crisp in his vision. He took one. He ate it in seconds.

It wasn’t enough.

He took another.

Xerxes ate eleven pears before he realized they weren’t helping.

“No!” he shouted at the voices. “I will not do what you want! I will not kill for you again!”

“The only way to be free of pain is to give us what we want.”

“Kill for us, and you will have great power. All your needs shall be satisfied.”

“Kill! Kill!” they all chanted.

The pain erupted, and Xerxes screamed. He fell back against the wall, damp with sweat as icy water crawled over him. His mind spun, his flesh turned gray, and his belly ignited with hunger.

He lifted his trembling hands to find them beastly.