Chapter 72
Chapter
Seventy-Two
EVIE
“ O nly direct descendants of the Blood Brotherhood royal family have been able to control the ancient wall since it was built eons ago,” Zandyr said, unease mirrored between us.
“Would Zavoya and Eldryan have checked the wall and mended it as a precaution?” I asked, hopeful and doubtful at the same time.
“It’s not in their nature to be proactive,” he seethed.
“Could Banu and Valuta have suspected there was a hole in the wall? Maybe they made Eldryan or Zavoya close it.”
“No. Maybe my parents somehow managed to fight their control and wanted to make sure the wall was sturdy.”
A possible theory.
A likely theory.
Neither of us believed it.
Something wasn’t right.
“Be careful, Evie,” Zandyr said. “I’ll open another entrance for you. Get inside Phoenix Peak as fast as you can.”
“Phoenix Peak isn’t exactly safe with Banu and Valuta around.”
“I will feel much better knowing there’s no impenetrable wall between us.”
I sensed him jumping off Madrya’s back just as Eldryan and Zavoya rushed his way. He avoided his mother’s open arms and shrugged his father’s hand from his shoulder, pretending to be overtaken with grief.
He distanced himself with thunderous steps, looking on the verge of ripping something–or someone’s head off. The guards moved out of his way, like prey worried the wolf would strike.
Zandyr stopped in front of the wall and looked up at it, heavy breaths bulging his shoulders. He looked at the sarcophagus Zorin dragged in front of the main temple.
I felt him dampening the connection between us. Then he punched the wall.
He shielded me from the pain, but I felt the echo of the force pressing against his bones, skin splitting open.
The phantom sensation skirted up my own arm so fast, I had to cradle it to my chest.
“Godsadammit, I’m sorry,” he said as he pressed his palms against the wall, playing the part of a grieving husband perfectly.
“It didn’t hurt. It’s just…weird.” I shook the tremors away. “Are you okay? You punched it really hard.”
“Yes. This Clan only understands the gravity of a situation when they see blood.” His knuckles had split open and the skin was slowly stitching as his touch permeated the wall. I felt the energy from him meshing with the wall’s ancient power.
A small gape grew slowly.
I splayed my own hands on the wall, pressing them urgently until I found the crevice. As soon as my fingers passed through the dark stone, I grabbed Adara’s hand and whisked her into the darkness.
“I’m in.” I sent down the connection as soon as we emerged into the eerie stillness of Phoenix Peak.
“Stay safe. All the guards have been called to the main square, but you never know if some of them are still lurking around.”
Adara and I hurried deeper into the heart of Phoenix Peak, as Zandyr finally turned to his parents and listened to their anguished excuses with a stoicism I envied. By the time they were done decrying my death, Zandyr ended up comforting them, patting his father on the back and embracing his mother.
“Children,” he seethed. “They’re king and queen and they’re acting like children.”
I couldn’t argue, so I didn’t. I just sent a wave of affection his way.
Adara and I kept to the back roads and flitted from bush to bush. Tracing the paths back when I’d first arrived made the run toward my home a breeze.
“No guards here,” Adara muttered as we neared. “They must truly think you’re dead.”
“Thank the–stop.” Feared speared through me. “The gate’s open.”
It was slightly ajar, if we wanted to get technical. The gap was small, only visible from this viewpoint, but it shouldn’t have been there.
I’d locked the gate myself before we left for Frostfall Reach.
“Weapon out, Blue Queen.” Adara took out her own daggers as I flicked my switchblade open.
Together, we crept behind the goddess statues, using the dimming sunset light to our advantage.
If this plan had any chance of working, we needed to retrieve the last puzzle piece, which Adara had hidden months ago–in my own home, which still horrified me.
The front courtyard was now shielded from view by the many plants we’d brought in.
The garden was eerily silent, but there were footsteps embedded into the dirt, marks on the stone pavement.
One–no, two.
Two people had been here.
I crouched and picked a grain of dirt in my fingers. Brittle. It hadn’t rained in a few days. The tracks could have been made today or five days ago, for all we knew.
“I don’t hear or see anything,” Adara muttered.
“Smell.”
I raised my nose high in the air. Beyond the tangy scent of dirt, something was rotting in my courtyard.
I gulped and followed the steps, careful to avoid the stones and patches which might trigger the mechanisms, Adara on my heels.
One of the tracks stopped near the first tree. Only one set of feet had ventured forward.
I followed the scent to the biggest bush in the garden. With a shaky hand, I pushed the plump leaves aside.
My heart shattered as I saw Loryk’s body hidden behind them, a deep gash in the side of his neck. None of my snares could have done that. Loryk had died with his dagger raised and his eyes open. There was still a ghost of fear in them.
Feeling my unrest, Zandyr reached out instantly. He saw Loryk’s body through my eyes.
“It’s not your fault,” he said quickly, though I sensed his guilt.
“It’s not yours, either.”
And yet we both thought we were to blame for Loryk’s fate. Maybe if Zandyr had paid even more attention to the boy before he left for war, maybe if I had tried to reason with him after.
None of those regrets changed this foul reality.
“Anyone you suspect?” he asked.
Judging by the decay, Loryk had died one, maybe two days after we’d left for Frostfall Reach. Plenty of time for someone to murder him, ride through the night, and reach the stronghold in time to commit another crime.
“Nylen,” I said.
He’d been the one to “save” Loryk from my wrath back in the palace, a likely ploy to win more of the boy’s trust and mine in one go, and had revealed he’d known about the traps.
Nylen, a grown man, had led this child to his death and had let his body rot here.
Maybe to frame me or Zandyr for his murder.
Maybe that’s why he’d been recruited among the guards in the first place, to be sacrificed when the time was right.
Maybe Loryk discovered something he shouldn’t have.
It didn’t matter.
Nylen had twisted Loryk’s mind and then killed him.
That’s what the advisors and their allies did–used and discarded so many lives for their own gain.
What had Loryk thought he’d be doing here? Nothing good, but he was so young. Too young.
If I had tried to reach out–
“Evie, don’t.” Zandyr tugged on the bond. “Trust me, the guilt will eat you alive if you let it. He’s with Xamor now, let the boy’s soul rest.”
Adara placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “The gods will take care of him from now on,” she said slowly.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But we can’t mourn now.”
My eyes stung. “Zandyr–”
“Evie, we’re readying for the final battle. I do regret Loryk lost his life, but it’s done. Concentrate all that anger on who deserves it–the advisors, for allowing this to happen, Nylen for doing the deed. Not you. Loryk was led astray in this life, all we can hope for now is that his brother’s soul will guide him into a better one.”
I blinked the sting away from my eyes. He was right, I knew he was. But my heart still ached.
Sitting here and wallowing wouldn’t help us.
We had to win so no other child would suffer this fate.
I pressed my fingers against Loryk’s cold eyelids and closed them. With a silent prayer, I stood and hurried toward the house, each step careful and calculated.
“Where to?” I asked, not recognizing my own raw voice.
“Down the stairs,” Adara said.
I halted so fast, she almost bumped into me. “You hid it in my kitchen ?”
“I hid it in the safest place in Phoenix Peak. Would you have rather I tucked the heinous thing under your bed?”
I shook my head and began walking again. “Did Goose know?”
“He found out eventually and he cursed me every day for it.”
I clenched my jaw. “What if Nylen and Loryk had a different mission in my house and it went wrong?”
“I’d say it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Do you think the advisors suspect anything?”
Adara hesitated. “Even if they do, we can’t go back now.”
No, we couldn’t.
The only way was forward–and down to the kitchen.
The first desperate shouts rocked the Capital only a moment later.