Chapter Fifty-Nine
Tiyung
Idle Prison, Yusan
I’m sleeping against the wall of the cell when I stir. Ailor is shaking me awake.
“What—”
“Shh,” Ailor whispers.
Hushed voices echo outside the door. It’s not Hana—that much I know. The voices are male. But I’m groggy and miss some of the conversation. It could be guards, judging from the light bursting through the transom window and tray slot. More likely, it’s assassins.
“But which one is it?” one asks.
“What do you mean? There’s only one target in there,” another voice whispers.
“I see two.”
“No, this is Tiyung’s cell. It should only be him in there.”
I swallow hard and sit up straight, now fully awake. This is it. The night I die. Hana bought me as much time as she could, but tonight I’ll walk the Road of Souls.
I quickly pray to the gods to spare Sora. I pray that what I told Hana was enough to save all of them and not information I never should’ve given to a spy. I pray that Lord Yama has mercy on me for my failings and allows me to see Sora again in my new life. I pray that her next life will be kinder to her than this one.
“Give me your collar,” Ailor says.
“What?” Stunned, I grab onto it even though jewelry won’t do me any good as a dead man.
“Give it to me now!” he insists, whispering sharply.
I didn’t think jewels meant that much to him, but I suppose people show their true colors in the end.
Disappointed, I go to remove the collar, but I’m apparently not fast enough. Ailor pulls it off me and throws it on his own chest. He sits close to where the door will open, leaning against the wall like he’s resting. The lantern is off, but I can see him clearly from the light of the meal slot.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“Tell my boy I love him,” he says.
Before I can ask what he means, the door opens and light bursts into the cell. I duck onto the floor to protect my eyes. The pain is intense because there’s not one torch but two. If they’re supposed to make this look like I died in my sleep, they’re failing miserably.
As I lie on the ground, I wait. I expect a blade through my back or hands around my neck. I should’ve stood like a man, but instead, I can’t get my limbs to work. I stay on my belly, waiting to be dragged out. Or to be stabbed and die like a pig in this cell. I only hope it’s a quick kill shot.
I hold my breath, trying to find peace in my last moments. Boots shuffle around. There’s hard breathing and the scrape of metal as a blade is drawn.
Sora. Her long black hair. Her smile.
She is my last thought.
But then the door swings shut and locks. By the time my eyes adjust again, the assassins are gone.
What in the gods’ names just happened?
“Ailor,” I whisper. “What happened? Where did they go?”
No response.
An ice-cold chill runs through me. No. No, no, no. It can’t be.
“Ailor? Ailor!” I yell out. I don’t care about being heard. Where is he?
With shaking hands, it takes me a couple of tries to light the lantern. Finally, I get it lit and pick it up.
There’s no one across from me. No one in the straw or by the latrine.
All that’s left of Ailor is a smear of blood on the stones near the door.
Stunned, I stand staring at the wet blood. It takes me entirely too long to realize that Ailor chose to sacrifice his own life to save mine. That he’d planned it out. That’s what he meant when he said “we’ll see” about me living longer than him—he must’ve already decided that when the time came, he’d pretend to be me. That whoever they’d send to kill me would know me not by my face but by my cell, and with two of us in here, both grimy and bearded, they’d choose the one with a noble collar. And that’s why he said to tell Mikail he loved him.
I gasp, shuddering. I cover my mouth with my hand.
Ailor’s true colors did come out at the end, and those were of a man willing to give his life for a stranger who showed him kindness. A man who thought of his son with his last breath.
Tears sting my eyes, and I sniffle. My first impulse is to hold them back, hold the emotion in. To not disgrace myself, my rank, by crying. To be a man and not risk Seok’s disgusted backhand because of my reddened face or tearstains. But a man I barely knew was just murdered, chose to pay the ultimate price, to buy me a chance at surviving. He is worth the tears that beg to be shed.
I lean against the wall, and I cry softly at first. Then deep sobs rack my chest, and I cry and wail and thrash.
I sob on and off until keys turn in the door. And by then, I’m ready for whatever fate has in store for me.