Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
EVIE
“ A re you alright?” Leesa rushed to my side as I swayed on the spot.
I blinked, gripping my crutches tighter, my entire body lurching forward, drawn by an unforeseen force.
“I’m fine. I’m–” I shook my head, struggling to breathe. The connection between me and him bristled and blazed.
He was fighting. Ferociously, like The Dragon he was.
I placed my palm on my chest, splaying my fingers wide over my heart and my source of power.
Keep him safe. Keep him alive. Protect him.
As the intangible string between us relaxed a fraction, I opened my eyes; I hadn’t even been aware I’d closed them.
Adara stared at me with a wide, worried gaze. “Is he–”
“He’s alive.” And the last thing he needed was me focusing on the bond and distracting him while in battle.
He needed to live–we had more unfinished business than I’d imagined.
I grit my teeth, repositioned my crutches, and up the hill I went, Zorin’s gallops resounding behind in the clearing. We’d double-checked that The Postman had vanished in the devious smoke that had carried him here and Adara had assured us the former pirate wouldn’t harm us, but Zorin was still on edge, patrolling his glade.
The three of us walked through the magical crevice in the wall he had opened for me moons ago, back when the world had been bright and full of possibilities. Well, they walked, I wobbled. I held onto my crutches with all my might, but whatever strength I had was mostly contained in my legs, not my arms.
The sleepless nights, the hunger, and dislocating my shoulder in the fire didn’t help. I tripped more than anyone needed to know.
But if I could move, I could fight.
“Leesa, I need you and Goose to look over that scroll as soon as we arrive,” I muttered, now more aware than ever of the silence in Phoenix Peak.
Secrets festered in silence.
Deadly secrets.
They needed to be cracked open and brought to the light before they could do more harm.
The question was how .
“Yes, Your Highness,” she said quickly.
“And stop calling me that. It’s Evie.”
“But–”
“ Evie . You’ve earned the right to my name, cherish it.”
Leesa nodded solemnly as I thumped my way into my barren garden, which didn’t seem so devoid of life anymore.
Owyn was high up on a ladder, frowning at one of my damaged eaves like it had personally offended him. Even with Master Sylvannis’ best ointments, his forearms were still red and cracked, craggy scars already forming. His eyebrows were gone and his neck was covered in cuts and bruises.
But he was alive…and working, apparently.
Anya was a completely different creature than the scared girl I’d met the previous night. Apart from a nasty cough Master Sylvannis had mended with a few drops of special syrup, she hadn’t sustained any injuries, thank the gods. Leesa had fixed her a bath and braided her beautiful hair in too many strands to count. Goose had been focusing all his culinary efforts her way, baking cakes in the shape of cats and bears; even now, Anya munched on a pastry, swinging her little legs on the veranda.
As soon as she saw Adara, she sprinted from the porch, toothy grin coated with red berry jam. “Hi! Where you’ve been? Did you go on an adventure? Was it fun? Can I come next time?”
Adara stood there, tense and frozen, as the little girl ran straight into her and hugged her legs.
“Was there a dog?” Anya asked with such childish hope.
“No,” Adara said.
“What about a bird? One of those blue ones that fly so high. I wish I could fly. To see the tops of the really, really, really, really tall trees.”
A muscle in Adara’s face flinched. “You talk a lot.”
“Thank you.” Anya beamed. “Pa-pa says I should always speak my mind.”
Adara hummed, unimpressed, disentangled her legs from Anya’s grip with an awkward hop Leesa and I pretended not to notice, and headed straight for the veranda stairs.
Anya followed.
Adara took out her sharpening stone and her biggest knife–which only seemed to delight Anya more. She watched Adara sharpen her blade with the unflinching fascination only a child could have.
“My pa-pa uses a sharper stone for his knives,” Anya mumbled, transfixed.
“Then your pa-pa should reevaluate his life choices,” Adara rumbled.
“Can I try?”
“No.”
“Where did you get your knives?”
“From a sketchy trader.”
Anya blinked twice. “Who sketched him?”
Adara sighed. “Nobody–”
“Can you bring drawings to life? I have a picture of ma-ka. I mean–” Her little lower lip wobbled. “I had one. But I can draw her again. I’m very good at drawing hair. It needs to be long. Ma-ka had beautiful hair. Like mine. But longer and–”
“No, you can’t bring people back to life. Sorry,” Adara said with as much patience as I’d ever seen her muster.
“I understand.” Anya sighed and my heart ached for her. “Then I can draw you. I’ll make your muscles very long. And big. And make you a pretty purple dress and–”
Adara finally turned to her, raising her dagger. “If I let you play with this, will you be quiet?”
“Absolutely no giving a knife to a child,” I said as I thumped closer to the ladder, just as Owyn came down. “ Or a spear.”
Anya and Adara sighed in perfect synchronization. Leesa bolted toward Goose, scroll tucked safely between the folds of her white dress.
That damn scroll he sent me. For the first time in a long time, I couldn’t wait to slip into my bed and back to the dream world.
I had to handle more pressing issues first.
“How are you feeling?” I asked.
“Alive.” Owyn rubbed his palms, wincing. He stared down at his burned fingers, a gaze of death turning his features fiercer. He fisted his palms, pain and all, and glowered at the palace in the distance.
“You can’t kill the advisors,” I said, low enough for only our ears. “You’d turn them into martyrs.”
The civilians still regarded Banu and Valuta as a mighty pillar of the Blood Brotherhood Clan. Their deaths would only shake the confidence in the Clan’s foundations.
It wasn’t their time yet–and the lies in the pamphlet definitely hadn’t helped.
“The only reason I’m not marching there right now is Anya. I’d either be killed or branded a traitor. No vengeance is worth my daughter growing up without a father or on the run.” He worked his jaw for the longest time before turning his head toward me. “Thank you for saving us.”
“It’s my duty.”
“It’s not. You’re a stranger,” he said and it hurt. “But you came to my aid when people I’ve trained and bled alongside for years ignored my daughter’s cries.”
“I’m sorry. They targeted you because you helped me.”
“Random acts of kindness don't make someone want to kill a child. At least they shouldn’t.” He squared his broad, overworked shoulders. “I appreciate it, princess, but you’re taking too much credit. The real issue started long before you came to the Archives. I was demoted because I wouldn’t spy on you. Disobedience comes with a heavy price.”
“Why didn’t you?” I asked. “You didn’t know me.”
“To protect Phoenix Peak, I promised to give my life, not my morals.” A smile spread on his face as Anya giggled. But as quickly as it appeared, the corners of his lips drooped. “We have no home anymore. I have a distant cousin up North in Frostfall Reach who might house us, but with the war, we can’t risk leaving yet.”
“You can stay here for as long as you like. I have enough rooms to house half of Phoenix Peak.”
“I don’t take handouts,” he said sharply, before clearing his throat. “I’ve always worked. I intend to do it until the day I’ll die.”
My mind raced. “You can be my personal guard.”
He nodded toward Adara, who now looked less annoyed by Anya’s questions about where to find a pair of leather pants. “You already have one, everyone in Phoenix Peak knows. And, no offense, but guarding you might truly send me to an early grave. I know your house was breached.”
I inhaled sharply. “How?”
Nobody in my house would have spilled the secret, and I doubted he would have gossiped about it all over the Capital.
“Information leaks everywhere here.” Owyn gave me a pointed look. “If the rumors reached me, it was no accident. It felt like someone wanted people to know the Blood Brotherhood’s defenses aren’t as good as we all hope and pray they are.”
Why?
He was in charge of protecting the Clan. Why would Banu and Valuta want the people of the Blood Brotherhood to think he wasn’t fit for his role now that their daughter was on her way to the throne? Wouldn’t they want to solidify the position of the future king and queen?
“It doesn’t make any sense,” I mumbled.
“Doesn’t it?” Owyn raised the reddened lines where his eyebrows had been. “Sow the seeds of doubt in the royal family’s abilities right before the heir is supposed to take the throne.” His voice lowered even as his eyes narrowed on the palace’s shadow. “An heir we both know will strike them down at the first opportunity. Small wonder he hasn’t done it yet.”
It was no wonder. It was that blasted oath. But the fact that Owyn suspected his plans…“Who else knows about this?”
“You mean besides the advisors, right?”
I clenched my jaw. Banu and Valuta were no fools, they’d proven that.
“Zavoya and Eldryan would never stand for this,” I said with more conviction than I felt.
“The king and queen are well-meaning,” Owyn said in a measured tone. “But as things stand at the moment, I wouldn’t place my life in their hands. I doubt the prince would either.”
No, he wouldn’t. “How do things stand at the moment? Truly.”
“My best guess is that nobody in that damn palace dares nudge them in the right direction. The court keeps them distracted and placid. Small wonder those bootlickers haven’t darkened your doorstep yet.”
“Don’t think I’m high enough in the hierarchy to be fawned over by sycophants,” I said with more bite than I wanted. “I don’t even have the civilians’ full support.”
Owyn gave me an inscrutable look. “Phoenix Peak might be part of the Capital, but it’s a very different world, with very different rules.”
Rules I needed to learn fast. Faster, if possible. With so many lives at stake–“Would the advisors kill the prince?”
“I don’t think so. Even if they tried, many others have done it before them without success. He is their son-in-law. He’s also a threat. All he needs to do is give them an heir–” Owyn’s relentless gaze flinched away from the palace, lowering to the ground. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”
Too late.
That small word speared straight through me, past the grey wall I’d erected to simply get up in the morning. The air was knocked out of my lungs once more, this time because of my own thoughts. Images of him and Kaya flooded my mind. Red, moaning, sweaty images.
My knees wobbled and my left crutch leaned too far to the side. I caught myself right on the cusp of falling.
Owyn’s awkward silence made everything so much worse. He kept staring at the ground, reddening from the embarrassment.
It was nothing compared to my shame. Did everyone know the mere mention of the golden Blood Brotherhood couple affected me?
I’d been so transparent with my emotions and now received silent pity as a reward for it.
“Are the guards truly loyal to the advisors?” I asked, voice shaking. Anything and everything to change the subject. “Or are they scared?”
I remembered the curly-haired guard who’d stepped out of line. Without him, maybe I wouldn’t have reached Owyn and Anya in time.
“Most people in Phoenix Peak only understand a strong hand. You’d do well to remember that. Some fear their wrath. Some want the status and the freedom to bully others without repercussions. Guard training is brutal, though, and goes on for years. Most survive it because they want to serve the Clan and believe in the cause. I did too, once.” Owyn sighed. “But there were whispers. Questions. None directed my way, since I’d become an outcast.”
I nodded. Whispers and questions weren’t much. Kindling, at best. But they could grow into embers and blaze the advisors’ foundation.
They just needed the right breeze.
I turned to face Owyn, shoulders squared like his. “You know how things work in the guards’ ranks. You want the advisors gone. I could use your expertise.”
He sighed. “And I need a job. A real one, not talking.”
I looked toward the sky, as if an answer might fall into my lap. My gaze snagged on the eave Owyn had been tinkering with. I didn’t know what magic Owyn had spun, but the damaged wood looked brand new.
I inhaled sharply as my thoughts raced. “Owyn, it seems you’re good at building things.”
“I do pretty well.”
“How well?”
“If I didn’t fear we’d be attacked again, I could rebuild my house by myself.”
He really didn’t like being helped, did he? “Then I have an idea that can fix both of our problems.”