Chapter 12
“Emin,” Amelia whispered from the office doorway.
He looked up from his desk, his eyes wide when he saw it was her. She shushed him before he could speak and slipped into the office, Ruven following, closing the door behind him.
They’d made it through the city without question and into the guild’s headquarters. It was late and there was no one about, but she knew Emin would still be at his desk.
At first, his face remained blank, as though his reaction had been delayed.
“Amelia!” Emin exclaimed, jumping up to embrace her. “We thought you were dead. You’ve been missing for so long.”
She ran to him and squeezed him tightly. His familiar scent of leather and spices filled her nose.
He pulled back to look at her.
The tears ran down her face. She should have listened to him. None of this would be happening if she had.
“Where have you been? Who’s this?” he said, turning to Ruven.
“Do you remember the skull I showed you from the mine?” she said.
“Yes, of course.” He frowned.
“I found them.”
“You found what?”
Ruven pulled down his hood. It fell, freeing his delicately shaped antlers and furled ears.
Emin took a step back. His mouth moved, but no words escaped it.
“What…?” Emin stammered.
“Fae,” she said matter-of-factly. “My father was right. But that’s not the reason we’re here. There’s an army coming. They’re on their way right now to attack us.”
“How do you know that?” he said. His face had drained of all colour.
“I’ve just watched them burn a town to the ground. And we’re next. This isn’t the time to doubt me.”
As they reached the palace, the guards recognised his guild robes and allowed him through. The lack of security filled her with dread.
Ruven never said a word, just quietly followed as they were led through the gardens towards the grand entrance.
“I need to speak to the Councillor,” Emin said to the palace staff. “It’s of utmost importance.”
He turned to Amelia. “You had better be right. I’m putting my reputation on the line here.”
His gaze caught on Ruven.
“I am,” she said solemnly.
After a brief period, the councillor arrived. “What is it, Emin?” Cyrus snapped. He was a tall, spindly, elderly man. He’d advised the emperor for almost all of his reign, as well as the emperor’s father before him.
“There’s an army coming to attack the city.”
“And how on earth would you know of that before us?”
“The army is fae. They’re on their way to our city right now,” Amelia said. “I’ve just watched them burn down a town, and we’re next. We had a head start on them, but they’re coming.”
“Aren’t you the archaeology girl who went missing?” the councillor asked.
She nodded.
“Have you lost your mind? Fae? And you believe her?” He looked pointedly at Emin.
Emin glanced at Amelia and then at Ruven. “Show him.”
Ruven pulled down his hood. The councillor gaped.
“You could send scouts out to verify the information,” Emin said.
Ruven slowly shook his head. “It won’t work with Tharos there,” he said to Amelia.
Both men jolted at the sound of Ruven’s voice.
“And you are one of the fae who have come to fight us?” the councillor asked.
“He tried to rescue me,” Amelia said. “He is here to help us.”
“And why should we trust him, or trust you? If what you say is true, you’ve been gone so long you could be on their side. You could be spies.” His face grew red with anger. “What is it that they want?”
“I’m not sure.”
Was Ruven right? They didn’t seem to lack anything in their land, and then the memory arose of the fae king’s words, ‘It belongs to us’.
“They want the chrysonium.”
That enraged the councillor more.
“Guards!” the councillor yelled. “Take these two to a holding cell whilst we send out scouts.” He gestured at Ruven and Amelia. “I need to inform the emperor. I’ll be down to talk with you.”
*
Emin had accompanied the councillor whilst they were taken to a holding cell. They were empty and rarely used, except occasionally for the town drunk.
She had imagined how returning home would feel. Her welcome was a prison cell. They looked at her the same way the fae had.
“It won’t work,” Amelia said, reiterating what Ruven already knew. “They’re going to send out scouts, but with Tharos there, they won’t be able to see the army until it’s upon us, and then it will be too late.”
Her back against the wall of the cell, Amelia slid down into a seated position. She looked at Ruven. He had risked everything to help her escape. He’d betrayed his own people, but she was sure he knew more than what he was saying.
“Why are they really here, Ruven?” she asked him. “What is it they want? Is it really the chrysonium?”
“That’s part of it,” he said, looking at her from the corner of his eye.
“Please tell me,” she pleaded. “I saw what they did to that town. We need to stop them. They can’t do that to this city. It’s my home. It’s the home of thousands of people. We have no chance against them if we don’t know what it is they want. They will destroy us all.”
Ruven avoided her gaze. “I’m so sorry, Amelia, but there’s no way to stop this now.”
“What do they want?” she repeated.
“They want the chrysonium and… they want their land back.”
Amelia started. “What do you mean, they want their land back? What land?”
“We were here before you.” He stopped pacing.
That wasn’t possible. She knew history; she’d studied it, and there was nothing that mentioned this, no evidence.
“What about the chrysonium? Why would you want that?”
He was about to answer when the floor vibrated, setting her teeth chattering.
“What’s that?” Amelia asked.
The whole cell shook, and shouts sounded from the floors above.
“Are they here already?” she shrieked. “How did they get here so quickly? I thought we had at least half a day on them.”
The cell door opened, and the councillor stood there.
“Are they here?” she asked him.
“No,” the councillor said. “We’re assembling our army. We’ve evacuated everyone we could and closed the city gates. They won’t be able to get to us that easily.”
They believed her. She looked up at the ceiling and sighed.
The stone city walls would stop them for a while, but she’d seen what they could do. They’d find a way in, and then all it would take was for Danae to set the city alight.
“The emperor wants to see you both,” he said.
They left the cell and followed him onto the upper floor of the palace.
She’d only ever seen the main hall and boardroom.
They climbed up a winding stone staircase until they reached the top floor, where the glass roof framed the cloudless sky.
Two large double doors opened, admitting them into a vast room.
A man stood near a window, overlooking the surrounding land outside the walled city.
Even with all her visits to the palace, she’d never seen the emperor.
This man wore robes of bright purple, edged with gold, and his hair and small beard were immaculately groomed and smoothed with oil.
This must have been him. Unsure of what the protocol for meeting an emperor was, she bowed.
Ruven did no such thing and stood with his arms crossed.
His hood was down, and the emperor’s eyes fell upon his antlers, and then his ears.
“So, you still exist,” the emperor said.
Every missing report rearranged itself in her mind.
He knew.
“Knowledge is passed from emperor to emperor,” he said, noticing her shock.
“Why has this been kept a secret from the guild? How do we not already know about it?”
His silence was a betrayal. History could not be altered, but it had been hidden. What else was a lie? Who else knew?
He ignored her and returned his attention to Ruven. “But you disappeared, or something made you disappear.” He walked closer, eyeing him up and down. “How many are coming?”
“Five thousand,” Ruven replied.
The emperor nodded.
“But they can do things,” Amelia interjected. “They have abilities, unbelievable skills that we can’t match.”
“And we have weapons, powerful weapons that we’ve been developing. I’d been hoping to test them out. What do you want the chrysonium for?” he asked Ruven.
Ruven didn’t reply.
“You said he was here to help us?” The emperor turned to Amelia. “He doesn’t seem very cooperative.”
From the window, Amelia could see something far in the distance. “What’s that?” she asked, walking over to the window, pointing.
“They’re here,” Ruven said.
*
The cloud of dust on the horizon grew, rising until it merged with the clouds. With his fae vision, Ruven could see much farther than she could and assured her that the army was approaching.
Tharos hadn’t even hidden them.
It would soon be dark.
The city’s walls were lined with armed guards, waiting in anticipation. They’d not seen war in decades. Amelia didn’t know how they’d prepare to fight an enemy that wasn’t even human. The emperor had spoken of powerful weapons, but she doubted they would be enough. How arrogant could he be?
The fae army came into sight, and the city watched in silence.
The citizens were under strict orders to remain indoors and off the streets, while those living beyond the walls were brought into the city for protection.
They’d rushed into its safety carrying any belongings they could, knowing that they might not see their homes intact again.
These were her people.
The army halted about half a mile away, and a lone warrior trotted towards the city walls.
Her heart lurched.
It was Casyl.
He sat straight on his horse, his raven-black hair blending into the night, looking up at the city walls, scanning the guards. He’d be able to see every detail. Every guard, every weapon.
Her.
His face was angled towards her. She couldn’t see his expression, but he’d be able to see hers.
She clenched her teeth together. He would not see her pain.
“I would speak to your leader,” he shouted up to the walls.
He sat alone on his horse before the walls of an entire city.
After a few minutes of waiting, the city gates opened, and they sent out an envoy to meet him. Amelia bit at the skin around her nails.
They spoke briefly, and the envoy returned to the city, whilst Casyl sat there upon his horse, still waiting.
“He wants to speak to someone in charge,” the envoy said nervously. “He wouldn’t speak to me; he found it insulting that you’d send a servant.”
“You need to go out there yourself,” Ruven said to the emperor. “He won’t respect you otherwise.”
“I care little about what he thinks of me,” the emperor said. “Send the councillor. He has my permission to speak for me.”
The councillor’s mouth dropped open, but obeyed, putting on his armour and mounting. The envoy accompanied him out of the gates to where Casyl awaited.
“What are they saying?” she asked Ruven.
“My hearing is not that much better than your round ears,” he teased, and she smiled at that.
The councillor’s shoulders were slumped when he returned.
“We have their demands.” He licked his lips nervously. “They want us to release the two prisoners that he somehow knows we have.” He eyed Amelia suspiciously. “And they want us to give them all the chrysonium that we have.”
The emperor barked out a laugh. “And if we don’t?”
“He will raze the city.”
“They’ll kill us if you hand us over,” Amelia said. They might not kill her straight away, but she was sure that they’d kill Ruven.
“I think we’ll keep the girl,” he said. “She knows too much, and I won’t even entertain his demand that we surrender the chrysonium. Why would we give him our most powerful weapon?”
Powerful weapon? Amelia wondered. Had they turned the chrysonium into something dangerous?
“My lord, if I may. Perhaps we could compromise to show we’re not completely unreasonable. We could send back the fae.”
Amelia glanced at Ruven. His face was stony, but they both knew that Casyl would kill him.
“Yes, let’s do that,” the emperor agreed.
The guards came to escort him out.
“No!” Amelia shrieked. “They’ll kill him!”
“Would you put this fae above your people?” the emperor asked her.
Her mouth dropped open, and her shoulders sagged. Her answer didn’t matter.
“We’re all going to die anyway,” she murmured as Ruven was dragged away from her. He glanced back and smiled.
It stung. This might be the last time she saw him. He’d tried to help her escape and warn her people, and they were turning him out, sending him to certain death. Shame clung to her like dirt beneath her fingernails.
The gates opened, and her mind emptied as she watched the Councillor and two guards take Ruven towards Casyl.
As they approached him, his raised voice carried on the breeze.
It was so quick. She’d barely blinked. Casyl unsheathed his sword and cut down the councillor and both guards. Their bodies fell from their mounts. He dismounted and knelt before the councillor, sword in hand.
“Somebody stop him!” the emperor cried.
Casyl seized the councillor by his wispy white hair and drew his sword across his neck again and again, until the head came free.
Amelia fell to her knees as she watched someone she knew, a harmless old man, butchered. Every last hope that some good remained within Casyl shattered.
Casyl stood, holding the head by its hair.
“We gave you a chance,” he yelled, and then threw the head towards the city. It hit the gate with a sickening thud.
Those on the city walls froze in shock. There were rules to war, and Casyl had disregarded every single one of them. The fae weren’t human; why had she expected them to follow human rules?
There would be no mercy.
A hollow panic clawed at her stomach as she stared down at the blood pooling in the dust beneath Cyrus, realising that these stone walls she’d always trusted for safety would protect them no more.
What was Casyl going to do to Ruven? Ruven had stood watching all of this, emotionless. Were they all like this?
How could she have had feelings for someone who could be so vile and ruthless? Those hands that had performed such violence had been embracing her but a few days before.
Casyl remounted and turned his horse towards the city, tilting his head towards her. There was no sneer or triumph on his face. He wiped Cyrus’s blood from the blade against his trouser leg, sheathed it and turned his back on both Amelia and the city. With Ruven in tow, he returned to his army.
“Ready the weapons,” the emperor snarled.