Chapter 20
Edras Mora was in an uproar when they entered the city. Well-dressed townsfolk hungry for blood stood in the town center, awaiting Jai’s execution. They formed a tight semi-circle around the wooden platform that butted up against the inner city’s wall. An executioner stood next to one of the wooden posts in a black tunic, dark brown trousers, and leather boots. He was using a knife to pick at his teeth and was ignoring the many shouts from the townsfolk.
It was close to three past noon, and the group had but minutes to come up with a plan to save Jai from the hangman’s noose.
Soren gulped back the lump in her throat as she looked to the perfectly knotted section of rope that hung limply from the crossbar, knowing her friend would soon be dangling below.
She had never witnessed an execution. They had been outlawed in Draestel centuries ago for their inhumane nature. She was disgusted as she listened to the crowd.
“How long do you reckon he lasts?”
“He’s not a large fellow; I’d give him a few minutes at least before his legs stop kicking.”
“I’d wager three and a half,” a robust woman chimed in.
“I’ll take that bet,” another man holding up a handful of bronze said.
“You’re on,” the woman replied, smiling.
Soren grimaced. These people have no humility.
“They should be disgusted with themselves,” Enara commented, falling into step with her as they pushed closer to the front of the crowd.
“Yeah, well, the rich get bored, I guess. Let’s just try to stop the show before we find out which of them is right.”
Enara nodded as she squeezed her way through another handful of people.
The group had agreed it would be best if the men stationed themselves at the perimeter of the crowd, using their height to give them a better vantage point. Meanwhile, Saoirse was strategically placed in the center of the crowd, waiting for the opportune moment to provide a distraction. But Rook, being the lone wolf, had decided to scale one of the sidewalls to perch on the roof of a fabric shop. Soren had reluctantly given him her bow as a backup plan to split the rope in case their efforts were unsuccessful.
As Enara and Soren reached the front of the throng, the crowd began to fall silent. They stopped just short of the raised platform as a nobleman dressed in navy and gold addressed the crowd.
“Great people of Patrivah, I want to thank you for your attendance this afternoon. Our late king would be proud that all of you showed up in his honor to witness the execution of his murderer.”
The entire crowd bellowed, “King Otis, may he rest in peace,” before the man continued.
“I am saddened to inform you that Jaideep Ashwood and his accomplice, Princess Adaryn of the House of Drekar, have decided to follow up their act of treason with cowardice. Rather than face all of you, they took their own lives sometime in the night.”
The bloodthirsty crowd shouted their disappointments that all bets were off. The citizens’ unrest rang out all across the square.
“We want justice!”
“We came to see someone hang!”
“Justice for the king!”
The man raised his liver-spotted hands to hush the crowd. “I know many of you feel slighted by their actions, so in an attempt to placate you, I have brought the traitors’ bodies with me.”
The crowd fell silent once more, their hunger temporarily satiated by the man’s words.
“I think that is the uncle Jai spoke about,” Enara whispered. “The one who had him attacked.”
“It would make sense,” Soren replied. “The king only had one brother, and without Adaryn to fill her role as queen, he would be made steward.”
“How do you know so much about court politics?” Enara asked.
“Books.”
Their conversation was halted when the palace guards walked forth, carrying two limp bodies. Enara’s and Soren’s mouths gaped open in horror, as there was no mistaking that mop of dark hair.
The first body belonged to Jai. Enara could even make out the turquoise ring on his finger, which could only mean that the long-legged woman dangling in the guard’s arms next to him was none other than Princess Adaryn.
There was no mistaking the way their bodies thumped heavily as they were carried up and dropped onto the floor of the platform. The girls flinched as they watched their friend get dragged across the wood, a splinter catching on Jai’s embroidered jacket. The guard pulled harder, and the fabric gave with a loud tear. They propped Jai and Adaryn back-to-back, the center post sandwiched between them.
Their heads lolled forward, and their hair covered their faces. But, for a moment, it almost looked to Soren as if Jai were smiling. She brushed it off as a trick of the light. She knew what a dead body looked like—images of her father’s plagued her mind on a daily basis. In that moment, she knew her friend was dead.
She bit her lip to hold back the tears that welled in her eyes as the steward spoke once more.
“To pay homage to our king, we will leave the bodies of his betrayers in the square as a reminder of what happens when you forsake the crown. In this way, we will honor my brother and cleanse our lands of this treasonous blight. Thank you again for your attendance today. I hope that, as steward, I can continue to make Patrivah as bountiful as ever.”
“Here, here!” someone jeered.
“Maker rest the king!” another chimed in.
Soon, the whole crowd was yelling, “Maker rest the king!” and the steward waved his goodbyes, making to return to the safety of his castle.
The crowd had started to disperse just as an explosion rang out west of the gate. A large cloud of black smoke billowed into the sky, turning the once-white clouds a nasty shade of gray. People started screaming and running in all directions, pushing past each other in search of safety. Soren and Enara jumped up onto the platform that was now free of guards to get a better view.
The twins, Baz, and Callan were moving slowly in their direction but making little headway against the current of bodies attempting to leave the square. Soren deflated when she noticed Rook was no longer at his post above the fabric shop. Fucking coward.
A voice from the crowd caught her attention as Saoirse screamed for help. She was being pulled back toward the east entrance by a wall of people who were unwilling to let her pass.
Enara was about to jump down to assist her, but she spotted Callan switching directions, no doubt having heard his lover’s cries for help. She also noticed that Rook was nowhere to be seen and scowled before turning back to Soren.
“What now?” she yelled over the noise.
Another explosion rang out from the opposite side, which caused the crowd’s panic to rise even higher.
Somewhere to her left, a child was screaming, and Enara watched, heart-stricken, as the mother shielded her son from the swarm of bodies that were now pushing them the other way.
She turned again to Soren, who had yet to answer her, but she was no longer at her side. Enara whipped her head around to find her kneeling by Jai’s and Adaryn’s bodies, and her stomach twisted painfully at the sight. She joined Soren, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, and closed her eyes, tears starting to form.
Jai had been a loyal friend, and she felt partly responsible for his death, and Adaryn had been unfortunate enough to be caught in the crossfire.
“Enara,” Soren said, grabbing her attention, “I don’t think they’re dead.”
“What?” she asked, wiping away her tears to get a better look.
Soren had brushed Jai’s hair out of his eyes and tilted his head back to reveal that his mouth was set in a wide grin. Normally, the sight would have been unsettling, but in this case, she couldn’t have been more relieved.
“Is he?—”
“Drugged?” she finished for her. “I think so.”
“That stuff they were smoking in Murkwall?”
“Looks like it,” Soren said, feeling for a pulse to confirm her suspicions. She found nothing in his wrist, so she moved to check the left side of his neck. She remembered from a medical text that the left side of the carotid held the strongest pulse. She nearly jumped for joy when she felt the minuscule throb of blood pumping against her fingertips.
“He’s paralyzed, but he’s alive,” she confirmed before rushing around the post to check on Adaryn. “She’s good, too,” Soren said just as the twins and Baz hopped onto the platform. Callan had reached Saoirse and was following close behind. She was disheartened to see that there was still no sign of Rook.
Two more explosions came from the north and south ends of the square, which meant the attack was now coming from all sides.
“We have to get their bodies out of here!” Soren yelled.
The rest of the group looked at her in confusion, and she rolled her eyes.
“They are still alive. I don’t have time to explain. Now help me!” she ordered as she untied Jai and Adaryn from the post.
Baz, who knew better than to question Soren when her mind was set on something, grabbed Jai’s body and threw him over his shoulder. Callan grabbed Adaryn, and the twins were pulling everyone else’s weapons out of the two large bags they had been carrying. They quickly equipped themselves with matching duel tonfa knives that ran the length of their forearms.
Enara hurriedly attached Baz’s sword to his belt and stole a swift kiss over his free shoulder. “Hey,” she said.
“Hey back,” he replied, and then they started heading east, toward the castle.
Just short of the gate, they were stopped by Everett.
“Thank the Maker,” he said, huffing in a breath.
“We need to get them somewhere safe,” Soren said, adjusting the thigh strap that housed her new set of daggers. She had refused to give Rook her father’s bow without some form of collateral.
Everett swallowed thickly and nodded. “I know a place. Come on.” He took off in the other direction.
“I thought we were going to hide him in the castle!” Enara called after him.
“We can’t,” he called back. “The steward has the whole place on lockdown. No one is allowed in. I had already left to come check on Jai, so I’m stuck out here, too.”
They followed him around a couple of side streets until they hit a section that Enara and Baz recognized. They pushed through the iron gate and ran through the tombstones to the mausoleum. The group barely fit into the small space where everyone took a moment to catch their breaths.
When Baz could speak again, he chuckled and looked at Enara. “No one bothers the dead.”
“We have to keep moving,” Soren urged, ignoring their obvious inside joke. “Vreburn was burned to the ground in a matter of hours—we are not safe here.”
“I agree with Soren,” Callan said, his large hand entwined with Saoirse. “Besides, we have no food or water here.” The group had finished the last of their sustenance on the road and had planned to restock after their attempt at heroics.
As if in agreement, Jai groaned from the corner of the room where he was propped up.
Baz scooted over and gave him a slap on the back. “Welcome back to the world of the living, man.”
Jai let out a dry cough. “Thanks, brother.” As if remembering what had happened, he stiffened and turned to Adaryn, his eyes wide with fear. “Is she …?” he asked, his voice a low whisper.
“Don’t worry,” Soren said. “She’s alive. If you took the same dose, hers may take a little longer to wear off since you weigh more than she does.”
“Thank the Maker,” he breathed and ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Now, does anyone want to explain to me why we are in the crypt?”
“There was an attack,” Saoirse said.
“Not to be rude,” Jai replied, “but who are you?”
“Oh.” She giggled. “Sorry, I am Saoirse, and this is?—”
“I am Callan McKenna, Son of Elias McKenna, King of Braexmirth,” he said, grabbing Jai’s forearm in greeting. “And these are the strongest members of our guard, Ori and Ikei.”
The twins nodded in greeting, keeping their knives firmly grasped along the metal cuffs that protected their dark skin from their blades’ wrath.
“They came to help us,” Baz said as a way of explanation. “The king accepted your lineage papers after hearing our story. He is making weapons and armor as we speak.”
“So, now we just need an army?” Jai asked, the mischievous glint returning to his dark eyes.
Baz smiled. “Now we just need an army.”