Chapter 20
Amelia
They returned to the capital. With the beasts now loose in the human world, its high stone walls offered the safest refuge she could think of. No one knew whether the creatures could be killed. The fae had become immortal upon entering this world, so it was possible that the beasts had too.
Once they’d regrouped, Elthar split his army. He sent half back through the rift with Felin to await further orders, while Elthar and the remaining troops escorted Casyl back to the capital, collecting stragglers who had fled from the beasts along the way.
They had formed an alliance now that Tiryn was dead. Amelia wondered whether that now made Casyl king.
As they approached the capital, Tiryn’s army—now Casyl’s—stood outside the gates, clearly expecting Elthar’s forces to attack.
Casyl galloped out ahead, his army cheering when they recognised him and solemnly addressed the assembled men. “My father, the king, is dead. We fought King Elthar’s men near the rift, but he is our enemy no more.”
The men whispered hurriedly among themselves. They were unaware of how Tiryn had been controlling Casyl; only Tharos, Ruven, and Danae had known, but they trusted Casyl. He was their commander.
“We now have a common enemy. Two of the Leshies have come through the rift and attacked our men. They are now terrorising us in this world, and more of them will come. King Elthar will be our ally. We will war with him no more.”
Salkin stepped out from among the men.
He eyed Elthar with unconcealed rage. “So, we’re allies now. How gracious of the blessed to have lowered themselves to our company. What happened to your father?” Salkin turned to Casyl.
“He was killed in battle,” Casyl replied.
“But we cannot be killed!”
Casyl was losing patience with him already. “We can if we’re dragged back through the rift.”
“And why isn’t he in chains?” Salkin said, gesturing to Ruven. “Is he not a prisoner?”
“He is the one who helped save my life. He is with me.” Casyl stared him down. “Now I’m tired. We need to rest.”
His beady eyes darted between Ruven and Elthar before resting on Casyl.
“You murdered him!” he growled.
The men shifted uncomfortably behind them.
“Do you know what he was doing, Salkin? You were his closest friend; surely, he told you all about his plans.”
He ignored the question. “Did you have something to do with it?” He eyed Amelia, almost foaming at the mouth.
Casyl stepped forward between them, his jaw tightening. “I killed him, Salkin.”
Salkin’s head snapped towards Casyl.
“You killed your own father?”
“Yes.”
The warriors murmured behind them. Some had come to stand behind Salkin.
“And now you expect us to kneel to you?”
“Yes. By blood and law, I am Tiryn’s heir.” He lifted his chin.
Salkin laughed. “You’re only king if we decide you are.”
“He may have been the king, but these are my men. I fought alongside them while he sat on his throne and played with his pet. Do you know what he did to me?”
Salkin’s eyes narrowed. He knew.
Amelia’s blood boiled. He had known and let it happen. She wanted to see him suffer for it.
Casyl turned to the men behind him and raised his arms, gesturing at their surroundings. “This is our prize? This is what we left our home for? There is no honour in what we’ve done.”
Silence met his challenge. One by one, the men lowered their heads.
“Who will challenge me?” He looked at Salkin. “Will you? If any man here believes himself better suited to lead, step forward now.”
Everyone was still.
Then a man stepped out from behind Salkin, his sword drawn.
“I challenge you.”
Casyl stepped forward and drew his own.
Amelia moved closer to Ruven as the two men drew their swords and circled each other. Casyl took on his dangerous fighting stance. He was like a large cat, stalking his prey.
Ruven stood beside her, watching.
“Who is he?” she whispered to him.
“He’s one of Salkin’s officers.”
The officer struck first, aiming his sword at Casyl’s head. Casyl blocked it easily and spun, kicking him in the back. The officer fell to the ground and rolled as Casyl’s blade barely missed him.
“Get up,” Casyl ordered.
This was an important moment. He had been challenged. He needed to show his strength to his men.
The man stood, and Casyl lunged, driving his sword into the officer’s shoulder. Casyl kicked him to the ground. He’d wasted no time putting on a show, demonstrating his strength and skill. He hadn’t even used his power.
“Let that be an end to it.” He walked away, leaving the man moaning on the ground.
Salkin looked around at the men. Too many were watching Casyl with admiration rather than outrage. Even Salkin knew that now was not the moment to force a divide.
“Very well, Your Majesty,” Salkin seethed. He stormed off towards the palace, his men following.
“Get someone to keep an eye on him,” Casyl told Ruven. “And get some rest.” He turned to Elthar. “There are plenty of rooms in the palace. Take your pick.”
Amelia followed behind more slowly. She lingered in the palace gardens where the jasmine once grew. Its scent was lost beneath the layers of ash and the stench of death. This was the route she once walked with Emin to the palace meetings.
She found herself wandering over to the guild’s headquarters, one of the few buildings left mostly untouched. The emptiness of the halls hit her. They were all gone. Emin was probably dead. How many remained of this world? The Singing Stone Guild was nothing without its members.
Her desk sat indifferent to the carnage on the streets.
Her notes were scrawled across the surface.
The parchment from Ryjul still lay where she’d last left it, trapped beneath the corner of a book.
She moved the book aside and arranged the scattered tools before carefully lifting the parchment, staring at the uneven symbols that she’d replicated in haste.
She had copied them, believing they would become her discovery.
Emin had stood beside this desk when she’d shown them to him.
She could almost recall his amusement at her implying he was old.
She pressed the parchment to her chest. Tears struck the paper, blurring one of the symbols. She had found the civilisation she’d been looking for. She’d stepped out from her father’s shadow only to regret it.
A scrape sounded behind her.
Amelia lowered the parchment. “Who’s there?”
She waited. Silence answered.
She grabbed one of the excavation tools from her desk and moved towards the open door of the records room.
Something shifted behind the cabinets. She jumped back. The tool fell from her grasp.
“Amelia?”
She paused.
“Karl?”
She hurried towards him as he climbed out from behind the cabinet.
“Are you alright?” she asked, noting his blood-stained clothes.
“I don’t know… I don’t know what happened.”
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“It was one of the only buildings left standing. I hid when everyone else fled or was captured. What about you?”
She tilted her head back slightly. How could she explain?
“You came back with them.”
The accusation stopped her. The look on his face made the words turn to ash on her tongue.
“Some of them. It’s complicated.”
Casyl appeared in the doorway.
“This is where you worked?” Casyl asked.
Karl stumbled backwards, reaching blindly for Amelia’s fallen tool.
She let out a sob and stood between them.
He walked over to stand beside her, eyeing Karl all the while.
Karl backed away further into the room, holding the tool up.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Casyl said.
“You’ve got to help him.” She turned to Casyl, pleading. “If Salkin and his men see him…” She left the words unspoken. She wasn’t sure what they would do. He would end up in the dungeon with the others, or worse. “He needs safe passage.”
Casyl looked at Karl. “He’ll have it.”
Casyl left and returned with Danae a few moments later.
“She’ll get you out.”
Karl remained where he was.
“She’ll help you,” Amelia said softly.
“You don’t have to trust me,” Danae said. “You only have to follow me.”
“Why would you help me?” Karl asked.
Danae’s expression hardened. “Because I should have helped sooner.”
*
After they watched Danae and Karl leave, Casyl gently led her back to the palace and up the winding stairs. She could have slept where she stood.
She prayed Danae would get Karl to safety.
“We’ll be safe here for a while,” he said, leading her through two giant double doors which opened into a grand room. Amelia had never seen such luxury.
The bed was enormous. Five people could have easily slept in it.
Blue silk sheets covered it, surrounded by an assortment of pillows.
An arched window framed a view of the palace gardens.
A portrait of the emperor hung on one wall.
His painted likeness looked down on her.
This must have been the emperor’s private chambers.
She turned from it and pushed back the image of his face, bruised and bleeding, which had come unbidden to her mind. She didn’t like him, but he didn’t deserve whatever had happened to him.
They were finally alone.
Casyl slowly sat on the bed. He buried his face in his hands. “I killed him.”
“You had to.”
“He was still my father.”
She half-fell onto the bed beside him, sinking into its softness. She gently peeled his hands from his face.
He turned to look at her.
Centuries of shame were hidden behind those eyes. Out there he had been the commander, the leader of men. In here, he was just Casyl.
“A father should never do that to his child.” She shuddered violently, remembering everything that had happened.
Casyl moved away and stood. “I’ll leave.”
She shook her head quickly. She didn’t want to be alone.
The white sheets were crisp. Her clothes, covered in dirt and blood, would spoil the sheets. She attempted to take them off, but the effort was too much.
Casyl knelt in front of her and took off her shoes and trousers. His touch was tender against her quivering body.
She stiffened. His hands had not always been gentle: they had pressed against her temple and pointed a sword at her. She knew now that not all of those actions had belonged to him.
She lay back, and he covered her with the smooth silk sheets before settling beside her on top of them. Her eyes closed.
She squinted as her eyes flickered open in the light shining through the window. Dawn had been approaching when they’d arrived back at the capital.
She looked to her left. Casyl lay still beside her, turned onto his side facing her. She silently watched the rise and fall of his chest and listened to his slow breathing. Tiryn had broken him in so many ways, but beneath the pain and sharp edges of the commander, something gentle remained.
She stroked her thumb against his cheek, and his silver-blue eyes flashed open.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Amelia leaned towards him, closing the space between them. Their mouths met softly, but the kiss deepened when his hand settled at her waist. Heat stirred beneath her exhaustion.
Casyl shifted closer, then stopped. His fingers remained still against her side.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked.
She looked up at him.
“Sometimes,” she admitted. Sometimes she forgot.
Pain crossed his face, but he nodded. He began to draw his hand away.
She caught it and held it against her waist. “I’m still here.”
She turned within his arms and settled against the curve of his body. His breath caught when her hips pressed against him, but he only drew her closer. At some point, they dozed off and awoke to banging on the door.
“What is it?” Casyl called.
“The creatures. They’re outside the city walls,” Ruven said.