Chapter Sixty #2
“Thank you, Pasha,” I said, using his formal and honorific title. I was nearly giddy at the weight that was lifted from my shoulders. As Lord of Iluul, his word was law. If he demanded ships leave with me, then our army was obligated to follow.
“But it’s no longer my permission or blessing you need,” my father finished, his words heavy and regretful. Instantly, the weight returned to my soul, my stomach sinking like a stone. I sat up quickly, the leather of the couch groaning with my movement.
“What? What do you mean? You’re the pasha, it’s your army . . .”
My father shook his head, cutting off my incredulous questions.
“Not anymore,” he said softly. “When my disease progressed, and it became clear to the council that you were not coming home, decisions had to be made to ensure Iluul’s security and prosperity were in the best hands.”
“You . . . you are no longer Pasha.” It was an incredulously whispered statement, a truth that made my blood run cold even as shame made my cheeks flush with heat.
“I don’t fault you, Torin,” my father said, his paper-rough hand coming up to shakily clasp my cheek. “But transference of power was all but demanded by the council, a demand I agree with,” he added heavily.
“If you are no longer Pasha, then why are you permitted to still live in the pasha’s quarters?” I asked, diverting attention from the question that really needed to be asked.
My father’s hand dropped from my cheek with a small smile.
“As you so astutely observed, Torin, I’m a dying man.
My days are numbered and dwindling fast. While my body is beyond repair, there has always been a second in line.
Have you not gone around proclaiming yourself Lord of Iluul for the past two decades?
” My father chuckled wryly as I gripped the back of my neck in embarrassment, even as a wave of sadness crested over me with his admittance.
How much time did he have left?
My eyes found the ornately decorated floor, where patterns in blues the same color as my mother’s irises speckled the surface. I focused on the comfort that hue brought rather than the dying man next to me as I made my next confession.
“It was necessary. In order to draw powerful allies to me, I needed to appear as if I had equal power without giving away the fact that I could control four elements without the need of a Vessel or crystal,” I admitted. My father simply waved his hand in my direction.
“That is what has saved me this position. I may no longer be Pasha in action, but I am still Pasha in name. News of your . . . exploits traveled here, making some of the council members uneasy or unwilling to transfer full power to the sitting Pasha.”
I barked an incredulous laugh, pulling my eyes from the floor to rest on my indomitable father.
“Unbelievable,” I muttered with a shake of my head.
“Mmm,” my father agreed quietly. “Yet rather helpful.”
“How so?”
Father shrugged with a sigh, his body practically molding to the couch beneath him.
I could tell the night was wearing on him, the desire to retire to his bed strongly written in the exhausted sag of his shoulders.
“It’s a bargaining chip, Torin. Use it as one.
I expect you’ll be called to dinner tomorrow. ”
I stood, recognizing that his time with me was ending, and helped my father from the couch. The leather squeaked as we moved, and I noted with a deep, profound sadness how light he felt in my arms, the fragility of life apparent in every shuffled step from the couch to the bed.
“Are you not going to tell me who rules in your stead?” I asked as I helped him into the massive white bed he once shared with my mother, setting his cane against the wall in easy reach before I tucked the covers around his thin frame.
“Use your brain, son.” He rapped his knuckles against my forehead. “Remember what I said about legacy, Torin. It is not made in these walls for you. But for others, they cannot see past their own nose, wanting a gilded shrine in their honor above all else.”
I opened my mouth to question further, but he shushed me with a flap of his fingers.
“It’d be best if they found you in the cells again in the morning. I have no doubt the janissaries knew your identity immediately, but they, like me and you, are forced to play a game of power and riddles right now.”
With that, the old man closed his eyes, effectively dismissing me in favor of sleep.
I smiled slightly as I watched the rhythmic fall and rise of his chest propped up at an angle by a mountain of pillows. He was fading before my eyes, but even in death, the man held his emotions close to his chest.
“Goodbye, Father,” I whispered into the room, silent except for the gentle wind that rustled the gossamer curtains. With a gentle kiss to his brow—one I never would have bestowed if he were awake—I turned to leave.
“You are so like your mother; emotional to a fault,” he rasped, affection and exhaustion lacing every word. “I love you, Torin. Goodbye, son.”
A sob caught in my chest with his declaration of love—the only time he’d said it to me—and the finality in his tone.
This would be the last time I saw my father, I knew it in my soul. The ether would call for him tonight, and he’d gladly answer, his purpose in life fulfilled.
“I’ll see you in the ether,” I mumbled as I straddled the parapet.
I took one last look at my father in his bed and swore I saw a smile stretch across his normally reticent face.
With that image burned in my memory, I let my Air Magic loose into the still and cool night.
It cradled me in its embrace, slowly lifting me from the balcony before sweeping me through the purple-black sky as if it were flying me adjacent to my father’s soul.
I stayed suspended in the dark night air until deep purple bled to lilac, the sign of the sun rising behind the palace.
Iluul would always hold a piece of me, bound to the memories of my parents in this sandstone kingdom.
But, like my father said, their legacy wasn’t limited to a room in a palace or even to a singular city.
Their souls were infinite, their reach vast.
Iluul was no longer home, no longer a place I had any allegiance to beyond what they could offer in our fight against the gods.
I closed my eyes and tipped my head to the sky, letting the warmth of the impending day wash over me as I took one last breath of the briny Iluulian air.
I let it fill my lungs, let it cleanse me once more before I guided myself back into the confines of the zindan, ready to face the newest would-be Pasha, ready to relinquish whatever necessary in order to keep Ellowyn and Elyria safe.