Chapter 9 #2
“Absolutely not,” the Vice General barked. “We cannot arm rebel scum. They’ll use it against us the second that man is dead.”
“Would you rather we die instead?” Eleanor asked him. “The mortals are offering to help us. Show some respect.”
That was a pleasant surprise. Eleanor was adept at navigating Descended social dynamics, which had made her a useful ally to Diem, but insecurity held her back. She rarely joined an argument, even among friends.
And she’d just used her voice in a meeting of Crowns.
It was Diem’s influence, I knew. The faith she’d shown by making Eleanor her Regent had set my cousin’s confidence ablaze. She’d done the same for Taran, Alixe, Lily . . . even me.
Find her, my godhood begged, softening from a demand to a broken, doleful plea. Save her.
“They deserve a prison, not respect,” the Vice General snarled.
“Silence,” Sophos snapped. “You two may represent your realms, but you are not Crowns. Be like Remis here, and know your place.”
My father bristled. If he’d believed his longtime alliance with Doriel had won him respect, he was evidently mistaken.
“What is this weapon you want?” Meros asked.
Auralie raised her chin. “My daughter, Diem.”
The room went quiet.
“Unfortunately,” Sophos said slowly, as if being careful of every letter, every sound, “that is not an option.”
“Then this meeting is over.” Auralie pushed to her feet. “Best of luck with your war.” She moved to leave, and I rose to follow. To Cordellia’s credit, she did the same, offering no hint of the objections she’d raised in Arboros.
Sophos jumped up. “Surely we can come to some other agreement.”
“Those are our terms,” Auralie called out, continuing for the door.
Meros rubbed his brow. “I knew this would happen.”
“Wait—wait, wait,” Sophos pleaded. “Give us a moment to . . .” They looked around anxiously. “ . . . to discuss.”
Auralie stopped but refused to return, hovering steps from the exit as a pointed reminder.
Sophos scurried to Ignios’s side and huddled close as they began to whisper. Their faces were equally ashen, though Sophos looked near panic, while Ignios looked near death.
He also looked oddly amused.
“Perhaps we should consider it,” Arboros said loudly. “We could use Diem’s help, too.”
“Are you mad?” Faunos cried. “She has four Crowns, Mireille. You think she won’t slit our throats for a fifth?”
“The only person slitting throats was him, Ailani.” Her glare shot to Ignios. “A crime he still has yet to answer for.”
“Oh, he’s answering.” Faunos snorted. “Yrselle made sure of that.”
“Arboros is right,” Meros said. “We gambled that we didn’t need the girl, and we lost. It’s time to try something else.”
Sophos ignored him and continued talking quietly with Ignios. Meros frowned, looking hurt by the snub.
Eleanor glanced from Crown to Crown. “I don’t understand. You said Diem was in hiding with the Guardians. Why are they asking you for her return?”
Again, the room fell silent. I took careful note of each expression. With the exception of the Crowns and the Ignios advisors, everyone else in the room looked equally perplexed. Even the Vice General—and, to my surprise, my father—seemed interested in the answer.
Suddenly, I understood why Doriel had been so flustered at seeing me and Teller. They must have assumed we’d died on the island. The Crowns had spun a web of lies, believing there was no one alive to expose them.
My eyes narrowed at Sophos. “Are you going to tell them the truth, or should I?”
They shrank away from Ignios as curious stares bounced between us. “You see,” Sophos said, “as Crowns, sometimes we must keep certain secrets, for the good of the contin—”
“My daughter never left that island,” Auralie interrupted. “The Crowns trapped her there because they’re cowards who fear her power.”
My hand slid into my pocket and palmed the spinning compass. Still there, I told myself. Still alive.
“You lied to me?” my father hissed at Sophos.
“Doriel manipulated us all,” I said. “After Diem and I saved their city, they betrayed us. They used her brother to trap her on Coeur?le, then cost me the life of an innocent guard.” I jabbed a finger at them. “You’ll pay for that death, Doriel, one way or another.”
They looked pained. “No one was supposed to get hurt. The boy was meant to return to the continent with me. You and the guard should never have come.”
“You left all three of us to die,” I snapped.
My father shot to his feet. “You tried to kill my son?”
“I did what I had to do to protect my people,” Sophos shouted back. “Nothing is more important than that.”
“Then release my daughter.” Auralie folded her arms across her chest in blatant challenge. “If saving your people is more important than anything else, this decision should be simple. Their lives for Diem’s freedom.”
Sophos’s stubborn anger ebbed back to hand-wringing unease. “It’s not that simple.”
At the table, Ignios began to chuckle.
Meros shook his head. “She’s right. If this is what it takes to win, we have no choice.”
“We can’t,” Sophos insisted.
“Then we’re done here,” Auralie said. “I’ll pray to the Old Gods to have mercy on your people . . . but not on you.”
She turned again to leave, Cordellia at her heels, but this time, I did not follow. My focus was stuck on the Ignios King, whose laughter was growing louder and wilder.
His eyes met mine. The black veins of the godstone toxin seemed to writhe in recognition of the victim who somehow escaped its grasp.
“They can’t give you what you want,” he rasped at me.
“Ignios, hush,” Sophos hissed.
The desert King sneered. “No sense hiding it anymore. If they won’t make a deal without the girl, it’s over.”
My godhood stirred. My fingers, still curled around the compass, twitched in trepidation.
I took a step forward. “Why is that?”
His lips, grey and cracked with blackish blood, curled high. “The Lumnos bitch is dead. And I’m the one who killed her.”