Chapter 35
The room tilts and my skin feels too tight. Shock washes through me like a storm off Lake Naleoa. Violent and uncontrollable.
I look at Caene, but my own astonishment is reflected back at me. I then look back to Isi, but she is staring steadily at the marble floor under her knees.
She knew.
How long has she known? Did she always know who and what I am?
Betrayal nips at my heels. I try not to let it sink its teeth in. Looking at her now, I start to see slight similarities between her and Caene. The same dark hair, same full lips. They definitely have different mothers, but there’s no mistaking they share the same father.
“I’m going to remove the gags. Feel free to scream.
No one will hear you. You remember, don’t you son?
” Caene glares at his father, his vast chest rising and falling in short bursts.
“However, if you try to fight or speak without permission, I’m afraid I’ll have no choice but to take out your insubordination on my darling, Condemned bitch of a daughter.
Maybe even dispose of her like her whore mother was supposed to.
” He strokes Isirae’s hair. She flinches hard.
. Despite the betrayal that has bitten deep despite my best efforts, my instinct to protect her has me pulling at my bindings, the rope cutting into my skin.
Elex melts out of one of the walls and approaches me.
He rips the gag from my mouth painfully.
“If you lay one more finger on her, I swear to Death himself I will—” my echoing voice is quickly silenced by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Isirae collapses to the floor, a whimper escaping her lips as Maziar drops his hand back to his side. I shut my mouth.
“You were warned.” Venom drips from each word, his voice quiet, but his eyes are lit from behind with malice.
He looks down at his daughter, his lip curling.
She curls tighter in on herself. “Now.” Maziar turns his attention back to me.
“There’s something I want to show you.” That creepy, gummy grin cuts across his face again.
He grabs Isirae’s arm, dragging her to her feet.
He keeps her at arm’s length though, as if he finds her repulsive.
As though it disgusts him to have her so close.
Isi could get out of his hold, no question, but he has clearly beaten her into submission.
The fury burning through me is so hot it could ignite.
Elex grabs my bound arms, pulling back on the rope around my wrist, causing me to bend at the waist. My muscles scream in protest at the awkward angle.
It’s definitely an effective way to force someone to move where you want them to go.
Osper grabs Caene in the same way. We have no choice but to go where they lead.
Maziar starts limping agonizingly slowly around the room.
The joints in his hands are swollen and gnarled, and his breathing is ragged and wet.
He seems so frail for the patriarch of the strongest Exalted house.
He also seems much older than he should be.
Patriarchs aren’t immortal, they age and decay just like the rest of us, but surely Maziar can’t be older than sixty years.
It almost seems as though something is eating away at his body.
A memory claws at me. Something Caene said.
But I’m too distracted, too anxious, and it quickly slips away.
I focus on the wooden and glass cases set around the walls of the enormous hall, all spaced equally apart, reaching out to the center of the room.
Each one is filled with trinkets and relics.
Some look ancient, while others appear much more modern. It’s an odd collection.
“This is my gallery.” Maziar’s grating voice pulls my attention back to him. “My family obtained everything here through any means necessary. When a Montbeth wants something, they get it.” He sneers over his shoulder at me.
“Some items in this collection are worth a hefty sum. Like this scepter here.” He gestures to an ornate scepter.
The entire thing is made out of brilliant gold, and the round ornament on top is encrusted with jewels I couldn’t name if I tried.
“This was owned by the last king of Lyclaven.” I can’t keep the surprise from my face.
Maziar chuckles, then bends at the waist as wet coughs wrack his body.
None of his children seem concerned by this.
He regains his composure, smoothing out his perfectly pressed coat.
“Yes child, Lyclaven once had kings. They would use the Exalted for their own selfish endeavors. Centuries ago, the Exalted came together and overthrew the last king, placing ourselves at the top. Although, I think it’s high time Lyclaven had another king.
” His eyes glaze as though he’s looking into a future only he can see, one that pleases him greatly.
He snaps back into himself, clearing his throat.
Subtle as a thunderclap, Montbeth. It’s clear he has an idea of who should be our next monarch.
“Other items are of a more personal nature.” Maziar continues his slow parade, stopping at the back corner of the room. In a small alcove sits a display case full of what appears to be worthless trinkets and garbage. My brows furrow.
“This case, in particular, houses items taken from people who were foolish enough to question me or daring enough to try to kill me.” A slow, unnerving, gum-filled grin creeps over his face.
My blood turns cold. “I’m sure by now my son has told you who your father was and what the gossips of this godsforsaken city have accused me of.
” I can hardly hear him over the sound of blood pounding in my ears.
“Well, some believed the rumor more than others. There was a woman I believe you knew in that abominable pit you call home who claimed she loved Altair, claimed he loved her. She was ranting, raving, and handing out leaflets, pasting them all over that disgusting hovel. She was getting people’s attention and gaining a following of Condemned vermin who wanted to depose the Exalted.
” He paces in front of the display case, his hands behind his back.
Isirae is curled up on the floor where he dropped her, unwilling or unable to stand.
“That simply wouldn’t do. You see child, a man is only as powerful as his reputation.
If the people believed I killed Altair Winddane, beloved as he was, I would have been ruined.
So I sent my sons to dispose of the problem.
” I look to Caene, but he stares obstinately forward, his mouth forming a flat line.
“Seems she did the job for you. She killed herself,” I spit.
As the words leave my lips, however, I begin to question.
The healer told Mrs. Detrich it was self-inflicted.
Could they have been mistaken? I never spoke to the healer myself.
I never thought to. I try to catch Caene’s eyes again, panic slowly creeping in.
“And who told you that?” Maziar asks, the ghost of his unnerving grin forming on his thin lips. “That nosy little neighbor of yours? What was her name? Ditend? Diter?”
“Detrich,” I grit through my teeth. I don’t know why I corrected him.
“Ah yes. Detrich. It is amazing what Condemned will do for a few coins.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. You didn’t know I existed until a few months ago. Why would you pay off Mrs. Detrich?”
“My son has been sharing family secrets, has he? Yes, I did not know you were born until recently. Your parents did an excellent job of covering that up. I only paid that wretched Condemned neighbor of yours to lie to anyone who asked. I had no idea Medora had a child when I had her silenced.”
Hurt and anger war for dominance in my heart.
Mrs. Detrich was the one to comfort me, to hold me as I cried, to protect me in those first days when my grief threatened to bury me.
And to find out after all this time she lied, that she knew my mother didn’t leave me of her own free will.
I don’t have the time to face the emotions roiling in me right now.
All my focus needs to be on getting Caene and Isi out of here alive.
I lock those feelings in a box in my mind to deal with later.
If I get out of this alive, it might be time to pay my dear old neighbor a visit.
I watch Maziar closely as he produces a key from the air.
It has the same glowing, purple crystal-like energy as the blades that can kill Caene.
He unlocks the display case and reaches inside, picking up a small object out of the dozens inside and holding it up to me between his gnarled fingers.
My blood turns to ice and my heart drops to my feet.
It’s my mother’s. A simple gold ring my father gave her before I was born.
I’d asked to hear that story so many times as a child.
It was the most valuable thing she could never bring herself to sell.
I thought someone stole it while she was lying dead on the floor of her room before I found her.
“Caene brought this to me as proof of her death.” Maziar’s grin is borderline deranged.
I blink, momentarily dazed by the sight of the ring I long thought lost. When Maziar’s words hit me it’s like being run over by a thousand gijire.
I turn my body to face Caene fully, barely noticing the burn in my shoulders from Elex’s grip on my binds.
My throat dries as he finally faces me, guilt and contrition clear on his face.
Rage, betrayal, and anguish all war inside me.
I knew I shouldn’t have let myself trust him. Believe in him.
Fall for him.
I want to cry, lash out, run, and kill him all at the same time. I lurch forward, ready to act on at least one of the impulses riding me. Elex doesn’t release me, but he gives me a little room to take a step. It’s not enough.