Chapter 29
Theron
Walking away from his wife was the hardest thing Theron had ever done.
His instincts screamed at him to go with her, witnesses be damned.
But given Orithyia’s nature—a lying snake—he needed all the support he could get.
If Batea was right, and some among the nobles supported Orithyia and the creation of her spire, then he needed to create a bigger opposing faction, and he needed to see who hesitated to join it.
“You’re doing the right thing, Your Majesty,” Polydorus assured him. “The nobles are waiting for you.”
Let him get this done as quickly as possible so he might be at Aurora’s side all the sooner.
The inner halls of the palace were all straight lines and sharp corners, the walls decorated with colourful frescoes, the floors with simple mosaics, the halls with potted plants in enormous, hip-high vases.
Theron rounded the corner—and was immediately shoved aside.
As he righted his balance, a scuffle ensued behind him.
When he whipped his head around, he caught sight of none other than Batea, holding Polydorus in a chokehold.
Her clothes were downright ragged, her face gaunt, a satchel hanging onto her by a much-abused leather strap.
“Hold on! I have proof! I have proof!” she cried.
“Let him go before I snap your leg, you maniac!” Theron shouted, unleashing his magic and wrapping it around her old injury.
“Fine!” Batea shoved Polydorus away.
Polydorus recovered and quickly slid himself between Theron and Batea, his body a shield. But with wild magic that controlled rocks and earth, Polydorus was badly outmatched against Batea, who was far better trained at close quarters combat.
“I have proof of Orithyia’s crimes. Are you going to listen, or are you going to arrest me?” Batea asked.
“Speak then. Show me your proof,” Theron said.
“Your Majesty, you should arrest her first. We can always obtain whatever proof she thinks she has later,” Polydorus advised.
Batea rolled her eyes, digging into the satchel at her side.
“Here.” She tossed a messily tied bundle of papers, documents, and scrolls at Polydorus.
“What’s this?” Theron asked.
“Evidence of collusion between Orithyia and several Aurean nobles to build the tower. Correspondence, bribes, blackmail, diaries, wills confessing the truth, all of it. And mixed in are some mining documents belonging to one of Lady Ino’s late uncles.
Not the ones he submitted to the palace, the ones he had his people keep in a locked vault.
He found a vein of onyx, and Orithyia promised to give the crown to Lady Ino if he mined it.
So…” Batea grinned cockily. “Where’s my apology? ”
“How did you find all this?” Polydorus asked, his nose already buried in one of the scrolls, his brows rising higher the more he read.
“I had Drakon surround their homes, eat a few cattle, and promised them I’d feed their kids to him if they didn’t give me what I wanted.”
She scoffed at Theron and Polydorus’ apparent shock.
“I didn’t truly feed any children to Drakon. I’m not a complete monster.”
“That remains to be seen,” Polydorus muttered.
Theron’s heart was in his throat. Had she truly found the evidence he’d longed for?
“Polydorus?”
“It will days to comb through and confirm it all, but…it looks promising.”
Batea raised her chin.
“I’m sorry I doubted you,” Theron said. “But Drakon still needs to die.”
Her grin turned to fury.
“Without Drakon, you would never have gotten your proof! When are you going to believe me over your mad wife?”
“She’s not mad! In fact, we’re set to depose Orithyia today because of a vision she had.”
“How?”
“She had a vision of smashing the eyes meant for the statue in the temple of Knowledge. They’re made of onyx.”
Batea paled.
“You sent her there? To face Orithyia? Are you mad? She’s the High Priestess of Lies! Lies, Theron. I didn’t collect evidence and the onyx so you could give her a bloody trial. I gathered it so you could kill her and present the proof afterwards!”
Before Theron could confront her for more details, screams erupted from the throne room. They raced for the connecting door. When Polydorus opened it, it was to the shadows bubbling along the floor and columns. Nobles scattered, racing for the door.
Monstrosities.
“We need to get to the temple district!” Polydorus shouted, throwing the doors closed and pushing them away from the scene of imminent slaughter.
“Where are my weapons?” Theron asked.
“In your quarters,” Polydorus answered.
“Get Epicasta and meet us there. Warn everyone you find along the way. Tell them to make for the temple district.”
“Have them take the tunnels in the dungeons. It’s faster and safer,” Batea said, handing her satchel to Polydorus so he could shove the documents inside.
“How is it safer? They’re drenched in shadow!” Polydorus argued as they ran, securing the proof they needed.
“My mother infused it with her divine magic before she left for Boreas several months past, in case something happened here in her absence!” Batea answered.
“Polydorus, new plan,” Theron said, taking the next corner at a sprint. “Get Epicasta, round up as many of the palace staff as you can, and direct them all to the tunnels.”
“What about you?”
He cursed inwardly. There was only going to be one way to get to the temple district faster than either the tunnels or the streets. Batea was already grinning. Thrice-damned fool.
“Batea and I will ride Drakon to the temple district and warn the people of Altanus to seek shelter there. That wretched creature is nearby, isn’t it?” Theron asked.
“He’s racing towards us as we speak,” she said, tapping her head. “Telepathically linked.”
“When this is over, I will be beheading it,” he warned her.
Instead of answering, Batea increased her pace. Even clearly suffering from rough living, she was in better shape. Being ten years his junior helped. Damn her.
“Good luck, Your Majesty,” Polydorus said, racing down the opposite corridor.
It was only a few hallways more before he skidded into his own chambers. Divesting himself of his courtly attire, Theron grabbed and enlarged his spear and shield. Thank the Triad he’d had it imbued with divine magic.
“Come on. Drakon will be waiting for us by the armoury.”
Theron cursed and followed his cousin through the palace corridors, shouting at any attendants to flee to the dungeons and follow Polydorus’ orders.
There was no time to explain more than that.
When they reached the armoury, Batea raced for a breastplate, greaves, a helmet, and a spear and shield.
Theron put on his own armour faster than he ever had in his life.
His tutors would have wept at how quickly he outfitted himself for battle.
Then they were out the door and into the training yard where Drakon was waiting, hovering above the ground on his inky cloud.
A shiver ran down Theron’s spine as the beast surveyed him with its reptilian gaze.
This was the beast that would spell his doom and that of Trisia in ages to come.
By rights, he should plunge his spear through its eye and into its brain.
But then he might not reach Aurora in time.
“Hurry!” Batea called, leaping atop Drakon’s head, one hand on a horn, the other outstretched.
Damn it all.
Theron grabbed his cousin’s hand. He could always kill the beast later. Aurora needed him now.
As Drakon lifted off the ground and soared over the walls of the palace, a very familiar figure was racing towards the palace on a loper.
The gates of the palace were flung open by fleeing nobles, and Hyllus raced in atop the beast, sword transforming into a bow as he knocked an arrow of purest light.
Divine light spilled out of the windows of the throne room.
Had he already put an end to the monstrosities?
But then Hyllus was racing back out of the palace, his head whipping one way and the other.
“Hyllus!” Theron called down.
“Your Majesty!” the avatar called with alarm.
Batea directed Drakon to fly towards the young man.
“Monstrosities are emerging from epicentres all across the city! I won’t get to them all in time! And Aurora has gone on to confront Orithyia! She doesn’t know!”
A good man or a good king.
A good king would order the avatar to protect his city, to save as many people as possible and quell the uprisings of monstrosities.
But the streets were already flooding with people, some panicked, some confused.
It would take Hyllus extra time to reach all the epicentres with so many people overwhelming all the roads to the temples.
A good man would rally everyone he could to save his wife from a cunning monster before he then turned to saving the city.
I made a vow to come for her.
“Come! We’ll save Aurora first, then the city!”
Hyllus reached for Theron’s hand and was hoisted up on top of the beast’s head.
They travelled above the market street, telling everyone to make for the temple district. But as they did so, Theron caught sight of Aurora’s guard streaming in the opposite direction.
“What in the Loom…? Get back to your queen’s side!” Theron shouted at them.
But none of them paid him any heed. Instead, they raced for patches of bubbling and roiling shadow, attacking any monstrosities that emerged until they were inevitably overwhelmed.
Screaming and panic overwhelmed the city.
People were trampled underfoot as monstrosities emerged from darkened alleyways and under overturned carts.
Hyllus struck as many with his bow as he could, but it wasn’t enough.
“This is why I didn’t want to confront Orithyia! She’s used her sinister magic on them!” Batea shouted above the rising din.
What kind of magic could convince a man to sacrifice his life so pointlessly?
“Merciful Triad,” Hyllus gasped.