Chapter 19
Zane
As their group of six crept closer to Athusia, Zane became more unnerved about the situation and what his father intended with Iyana. Emmeric and Talon shared his concerns. The normally jovial Talon became more subdued, and Emmeric’s face pinched with tension. Iyana, either out of a show of courage or because she was ignorant of her situation, seemed wholly unaffected. She still chatted with them all, and Zane hated that he found her charming. She very well could be dead in a few days, and he did not want to develop an attachment to a prisoner. He’d never been able to sway his father away from killing anyone in the past. In fact, if he thought she meant anything to Zane, even if he liked the jokes she told or the sheen of her dark hair, Uther would be more inclined to kill her.
Zane had learned this lesson the hard way. So, for the past ten years, everybody had meant absolutely nothing to him. It was why he didn’t remember any of his guards’ names. If he had so much as an inkling of friendship, or a crush, he did everything in his power to ensure the person was removed from his vicinity. It had gained him the reputation of a brooding asshole, a bastard, a womanizer stealing the virginity of any fair maiden who so much as glanced at him, then casting them out into the night. He hated himself for it, but it was easier that way. Safer for both him and anyone who wandered too close to him.
The edges of Athusia were sleepy farmlands, the people working hard to earn their living, the dwellings few and far between. Pungent smells of horses, cows, and goats filled the air, mixing with sweeter scents of baking bread and ripening fruit. Moving closer to the city, smaller dwellings were pushed closely together, and walls were shared with no room for alleyways. Dilapidated houses filled the outer ring of Athusia, with broken windows, roofs falling in, entire sections of siding missing. Yet these still housed whole families, sometimes composed of multiple generations, and Zane knew they were grateful to at least have some semblance of a structure around them. They easily could have been one of the many homeless people wandering through the outer rings of the city, begging for the scraps of scraps. These people had nothing to give away—they were all starving—yet they attempted to care for all their citizens. The stink of human shit and piss wafted over the group, with nothing sweet here to be found. It was loud in this portion of the city. Mothers yelling at children, children shouting to each other, drunkards generally losing control of their volume.
Zane hated this part of Athusia. It was a stain against the entire city, but the emperor did nothing to help their situation. No, he used it as an example for the wealthier houses. Look how good you have it. Look at how easily I could take it all from you. There were some former nobles living in this outer ring, stripped of their rank and fortunes, all because they had upset Uther in one way or another. Zane knew at least one family was here for treason; the patriarch of the house was caught plotting a coup. And he’d never forget the one poor family sent to the edges because the father had disagreed with Uther during a meeting. Their four-year-old daughter had cried silent tears, clinging to her mother’s neck, as she and her parents were escorted out of their home, all their belongings seized by the crown. A new family had moved into their house not two days later.
Zane peered over at Iyana to gauge her first impressions of the city, and they didn’t appear to be great. Although she lived in an extremely isolated village, with not much money, they at least all had well-built homes and food in their bellies. None of their people struggled. Her nose scrunched against the odor, but there was sympathy in her eyes as she viewed the wraith-like children on the streets. He saw her ask Emmeric something—he couldn’t hear what—but Emmeric shook his head and it only seemed to make her sadder.
Fortunately, they were soon entering the middle ring of the city. This was where many of the merchants and business owners lived. The homes were nicer, more spread out, some with small gardens or yards. Peals of children’s laughter rang out from a school down the street. These families were able to afford basic luxuries, like sending their children for an education, giving them a huge leg-up in life. If they knew how to read and do arithmetic, they’d be able to prosper themselves.
“What is that?” Iyana asked, pointing to the large, oval stone structure located between the middle ring and the inner ring. Loud shouts and cheering were heard even at a distance.
“It’s the arena,” said Emmeric. “It’s where we play our national sport.”
“It’s huge,” she said, awestruck.
“Emmeric is actually pretty good at circle run,” Talon chimed in.
Iyana looked at him incredulously. “Your national sport, that you play in a gigantic arena, is called circle run? What do you do? Spin in a circle? Whoever is least dizzy wins?”
Talon laughed while Emmeric frowned. Zane felt the corners of his lips turn up. Emmeric grumbled, “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Athusia has been playing it for hundreds of years,” Zane said. “I’m sure there’s a scholar somewhere who could tell you why they chose ‘circle run’ instead of something more interesting.”
“Well,” said Talon, “you run in a circle. Seems straightforward to me.”
“You don’t just run in a circle,” Emmeric said, throwing a hand up in frustration. “That would be running track! And you know that.” He jabbed his finger at Talon. “We played together in the youth league for years.”
“As much as I love seeing Emmeric riled up,” said Iyana, “I honestly don’t care about any sports. So, you can explain it, but I can’t promise I’ll listen.”
“When this is over, we’ll go watch a game,” Emmeric said softly. This was concerning to Zane. Not only because he was obviously much closer to the prisoner than he’d made it seem, but also Iyana could be walking towards her execution. Zane didn’t want to know how her death would affect Emmeric, or if he’d go to any extremes to save her. If he was honest with himself, he never believed Emmeric’s story of her as simply a village girl he’d met in passing. Something happened those couple of days he was in Imothia. He had an inkling Emmeric was involved in this entire ‘star’ business, but it wasn’t clear how.
“We’ll see,” Iyana responded, haughtily. Zane hoped she gave Uther whatever he wanted so she’d have the option to properly turn down Emmeric’s offer.
They crested a hill heading into the inner ring, and the castle finally came into view. The tops of the spires were visible from anywhere in the capital, but this particular vantage point was the only one where the entire castle was visible. It was more fortress than palace, and not pretty with roses and ivy, like in fairy tales. This was gray, dark, imposing. Arrow slits dotted the outside. Portcullises were at every entrance, with no less than four guards per entry point. Each of those entryways had a murder hole in the ceiling, hot oil on standby should anyone try the impossible and storm the castle.
Iyana’s eyes were wide, unblinking. If she thought the arena was gigantic, then the castle was in another category altogether. Zane was almost embarrassed to walk her through the dank, musty halls which hadn’t seen proper upkeep in the past two decades. Only the rooms Uther resided in or conducted business in were kept in a clean and orderly fashion, with comfortable furniture and art on the walls. He found himself wanting to ask what her opinion would be of the throne he found so garish.
“In the name of Imera,” Iyana breathed. “Is that…?”
She was looking at a three-story brick building taking up an entire block in the inner ring, an interruption of the extravagant mansions. Rows of windows lined the wall facing the street and were all currently open, allowing the natural light and cool early autumn air into the space. Soon, the temperature would force those windows shut for the winter. People milled about, many rushing in and out of the building. A large plot of grass in front of the doors was hosting a gathering of people dressed in robes, sitting in a circle with books open on their lap. They all boasted a tattoo of a snake eating its own tail encircling their left wrist—an ouroboros, the sigil of the healers. The symbol was etched into the lodestone of the arch above the entrance.
“The healer university,” Zane confirmed, nodding.
Iyana stared at the school and its students in unabashed wonder. “I never thought I’d actually see it.” She rubbed a thumb over her own bare left wrist, where a tattoo should be. Sighing, she turned away from the university. Zane’s stomach somersaulted. He wished he was bringing her here as a promising new student who would then take her knowledge back to her little village instead of hand delivering her to his father, who undoubtedly had some nefarious plan.
Too soon they were at the gates, unmounting their horses. Iyana was now starting to appear concerned. Emmeric and Talon were both attempting to keep their poker faces on, but Zane could tell they were panicking. Emmeric more so.
“Are you going to behave? Or do I need to tie you up again?” Zane asked Iyana.
She raised her chin in a show of defiance. “I’ll go with you peacefully.” Any rapport they may have developed on the road disappeared once they passed the threshold of the castle. Geoff and Gordon walked ahead of them, leading the way, Zane staying close to Iyana’s side should she decide to try something foolish, and Emmeric and Talon were behind—hands on their swords, ever at the ready.
A page boy streaked past them to announce their arrival to the emperor. Once at the enormous wooden doors barring the entrance to the throne room, the twins branched off, and each took a post on either side of the door. Zane felt something grab his wrist. Turning, he saw Talon pleading him with his eyes.
“Can’t you do anything?” Talon whispered.
Without a word, Zane glanced pointedly at Talon’s hand wrapped around his own, then back at his face. Talon got the silent message, dropping his hand quickly. He didn’t ask for aid again. He needed to remember his place in this castle. What might have been okay outside of the capital would not go over well in Athusia. Not with his father’s eyes and ears everywhere.
The doors opened at his signal. Zane gently grasped Iyana’s arm and marched her into the ornate, bright throne room. Emmeric and Talon both stayed behind. A resonant boom sounded as the doors closed behind them. Zane suppressed the flinch, his court mask slipping into place, feeling as though walking through those doors had cleaved his life into two distinct sections. He knew he’d look back at this day as one that defined his entire future. Things would never be the same.
Iyana kept her chin high, staring down the tyrant sitting on the throne. She had more courage than any of the others in the room, including Zane. Uther’s simpering advisors and other high-ranking nobles were in attendance today, because it wasn’t Zane who would be punished this time.
They halted near the base of the dais, Uther watching their approach with a shrewd expression. Zane bowed low. He hated prostrating himself in such a fashion, but Uther expected it of him with others in the room, and a slight now would ensure punishment later. Iyana stood stock straight, feet still bare and dusty, in an overt show of defiance. The emperor’s eyes sparked with anger, but he quickly schooled his expression.
“Prince Zane,” Uther said, “I did not expect you to return with your quarry so soon.”
“I did not either, Your Majesty,” Zane responded. “But Otho must have been smiling upon me, as she entered Huton the same time I did. We happened upon her in the streets.”
“A great stroke of fortune, indeed,” Uther replied, rubbing his bead thoughtfully. “Tell me your name, girl.” Uther never asked for information, he demanded.
“Iyana,” she said, proudly.
“And your surname.” She offered no answer, only inching her chin slightly higher, caramel eyes staring daggers at the most powerful man in the room. Uther smiled cruelly, one side of his lips curling. “No matter, you will tell me eventually. You hail from Imothia.”
“Yes,” she said. Zane was unsure if she was purposefully omitting honorifics, or if it was because she was unfamiliar with court etiquette. He would bet money it was the former.
The emperor’s sly grin grew wider. This can’t be good, Zane thought.
“It is so nice to welcome the Aztia to Athusia,” Uther said, smug satisfaction dripping from every word. “Tell me who your Kanaliza is.” What in the nine hells was he talking about? Zane looked to Iyana for her reaction, but her face remained impassive. He had never heard of an Aztia or Kanaliza, even in all his years of studying. Could she be the one performing magic? Or was that rumor created to throw him off the trail? Because there was obviously no magic happening in Athusia, if she was the one to wield it. Emmeric. It had to have been him.
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Iyana said, casually inspecting the throne room. She was lying, Zane was sure of it.
Uther leaned forward, steepling his fingers. His icy blue eyes bore into Iyana. “A star fell here in Arinem,” he said. “You will tell me where they are.” They?
Iyana shrugged casually, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Probably out in the Istorian desert. You can go find it for all I care. Unlike some—” she glanced pointedly at the golden monstrosity Uther was sitting on “—I don’t need a shiny rock to tell me how great I am.”
Emperor Uther chuckled, leaning back in his throne. Tossing a foot onto his opposite knee, he appeared the picture of relaxed, at ease. But, from experience, Zane knew this was when shit happened. Things were about to get messy. His father would no longer tolerate Iyana’s antics and disrespect.
“Imothia,” Uther pondered, tapping his chin. “The tiny Istorian village where everybody’s name begins with an ‘I.’” Iyana stiffened the slightest amount, her hands curling into fists. Uther noticed the movement, his eyes sharpening. He had his prey cornered, and he knew it. “I believe it was around, oh, twenty-five years ago, there was this couple from Imothia—beautiful woman. They requested my aid while I was holding court.” Zane wasn’t sure if Iyana was breathing. “Their daughter had been cursed with magic, and they were hopeful I may possess a way to break the curse.
“They had already been to Istora’s queen, you see,” he continued, Zane now thoroughly confused. “And she had refused them aid. I, however, was much more generous.” Uther grinned as a wolf would—all teeth. “Of course I would help. All that was required of them was to bring their daughter here, to Athusia, where she would be raised among the University of Healers, and instead of seeing her magic as a curse, we would view it as a blessing. They refused.” Zane did not doubt his father had offered to take in the child in a disguise of generosity. There would have been some underlying motive, and it seemed the couple saw right through it.
“And where are they now?” Iyana asked coolly, but her clenched fists, fingertips turning white, gave away her true emotions.
“I’m sure I don’t remember,” Uther said, waving a hand. “Probably licked their wounds all the way back to Imothia.” Zane did not believe his father’s lie for one second. “But you, my dear, must be the daughter they spoke of. The Aztia. I’ve been looking for you for a long time now.”
“Well, here I am,” Iyana said glibly, spreading her arms wide. “Completely magicless, other than the speck all healers possess.”
“You and I both know that to be false,” Uther said, snapping his fingers at the guards behind the throne. “Take her.”
To Iyana’s credit and Uther’s great disappointment, she allowed the guards to bind her in irons, walking her out of the throne room. The emperor preferred it when his victims screamed and begged. She only glared at him until he was out of her sightline, and right before they dragged her through the door, she turned her ire to Zane. He deserved it, rooted to the spot as he was. He was just as much a prisoner—only his chains were invisible.
“Was she with anyone when you found her?” Uther asked him once Iyana had left the room.
“No, sire,” Zane lied, something in his gut telling him the emperor would wreak havoc if he knew there was a man with her.
“Shame,” Uther said. “Well done, prince. Otho has indeed favored you.” The words meant nothing, only spoken to appease the others in attendance. Because although Uther ruled with an iron fist, should the nobles discover how he treated his own son, it could create a difficult situation.
Zane bowed low again without responding, turned on his heel, and sauntered out of the hall. Even though he felt like the filthiest piece of shit smeared across the road, he kept his unaffected court mask firmly affixed. Walking right past Emmeric, Talon, and the twins, he ignored their questioning gazes. No explanations were owed for his actions or those of his father. They fell into line behind him, as they should, and dutifully followed Zane back to his quarters.
He slammed his doors shut behind him without a word. Uther had made a mistake today, something that didn’t happen often. He’d made it known, to Zane at least, that this ‘Aztia and Kanaliza’ were extremely important to him. There was studying to be done.