Chapter 79
Gaeren’s starlock heated against his chest, pulling him back to consciousness. It served as a warning as much as a comfort. He blinked slowly, taking in the way his body lay crumpled on the floor, his sister’s limp hand hanging from the table above him.
“Some winex delayed them in the harbor,” his father grunted in irritation from behind him, somewhere near the dais. “But they’re on their way.”
“I don’t like that she had you hit him.” The queen’s cool fingers brushed the back of Gaeren’s neck, and he focused all his energy on holding still, appearing unconscious, or maybe dead. Whichever would keep Mayvus happy when she checked in with her brands.
“She could have had me do worse.” His father’s response was barely audible and held a hint of confusion that reminded Gaeren of the broken man he’d found after returning from Lorvandas, the man who’d regretted the way he’d been used by Mayvus.
It made him wonder if that man was accessible somewhere deep beneath the brand.
Maybe it was better if he didn’t know. At this point, he would need to fight his parents to protect Enla. It was the only way he could get her out of here. His stomach roiled at the thought.
Then an even more detestable idea snuck through: he could escape without her.
Despite being branded, his parents had aged in the last year, their status as Mayvus’ pawns taking a toll on their physical bodies.
His father might be able to kill him, but the king’s reflexes would be too slow, and he wouldn’t anticipate Gaeren leaving Enla.
But that was because Gaeren could never leave Enla. Not at the mercy of their parents. And definitely not at the mercy of Mayvus. Which meant he couldn’t keep playing dead.
He slid away from his mother, who sucked in a breath, then kneeled, using Enla’s table to pull himself to a standing position. The room swayed before him, but he blinked it back into focus.
“How did you hide it?” he asked. “I checked both of your hands.”
“Illusion work,” his mother said. “Just like she used on your friend Holm.”
Gaeren scowled. “But I felt your hands.”
His mother held out her palms, and the scar of her old brand slowly darkened until it held a fresh mark. “Funny how raised scars can feel an awful lot like a raised brand.”
“This is madness.” Gaeren tightened his grip on the table.
“You really think serving the likes of Mayvus is better for your people?” He wasn’t even sure what he was saying.
He simply needed to stall and come up with a plan.
What would Enla do in this situation? He almost laughed.
She would look into the future and do whichever thing had the least negative consequences.
“It doesn’t matter what I think,” his father said. “I was a good ruler for a time, and I set the stage for her to take control. But she’ll come in now and improve upon my failures.”
This time Gaeren did laugh. “The father I knew never would have referenced failures. Not unless he was talking about me.”
A flicker of remorse flashed across his father’s face before his features hardened into the mask Mayvus had him wear. “The Elanesse family is full of failures.”
His father choked a bit on the word as if a small part of him finally recognized that what he was saying went against everything he believed in. Somewhere beneath the facade Mayvus gave him, Gaeren’s father remained. If anything, it made what Gaeren had to do even harder.
Typically, tuning in to memories didn’t aid Gaeren much in battle.
But fighting his parents with memories gave him the upper hand.
Instead of pushing away his mother’s calming hand, he welcomed it, allowing the contact to give him the opportunity to feed his own memories back into her mind.
Memories of their horror and embarrassment when they admitted to Gaeren they’d been branded.
Memories of their desire to set aside their rule in favor of Enla, and he now realized their change of heart likely had more to do with Mayvus than Enla’s failing mind.
His mother cried out and dropped his hand as if he’d burned her.
He pulled out his dagger and made a swipe at her palm, not quite ready to cut off her hand, but not able to get at the brand either.
She pulled back and her eyes narrowed, her scowl far harsher than any expression he’d ever seen on her face.
“Is that how you’re going to play it, boy?” she hissed, her voice almost feral. She hunched over and took a defensive stance, blocking his access to her hands and making him regret not going for it when he’d had the chance. Surely she would have forgiven him when all was said and done.
Gaeren’s father roared his frustration, and Gaeren’s throat tightened, closing off his air supply.
His eyes widened, both with surprise and his body’s panic to find more air.
His father had never been one to shy away from lessons with physical consequences, but he’d never threatened to take Gaeren’s life.
The realization made him wonder if his father’s harsh treatment had still come from a place of love, even if it was twisted.
But even if that was true, it didn’t matter. Mayvus would still have him kill Gaeren.
His hands came to his neck, searching for the invisible vise tightening to cut off his air supply.
But the damage was being done internally, and his noetic magic could do nothing to stop it.
Instead, he crawled to his father, ignoring his mother’s sobs because she stood rooted to the ground, unable to help as she watched her nightmares come alive.
His father’s face held a blankness, and maybe it was selfish of Gaeren, but he refused to let his father kill him without knowing exactly what he was doing.
He placed his hand on his father’s shins.
At first the old man sneered, well aware that Gaeren’s magic couldn’t stop this onslaught.
But then Gaeren no longer saw his father’s face. It was replaced by childhood memories.
There were very few positive ones, but Gaeren reached deep for them, focusing mostly on his time with Enla and the friendship they shared as siblings.
Because despite the fact that he’d never had that connection with his parents, they’d given him his sister.
And he would always be grateful for that.
He pushed memory after memory on his father of the times he and Enla had spent together.
Of the times he and Enla had escaped their parents’ wrath.
The times they’d comforted each other after having been disciplined.
And the times they’d challenged each other to do what was right despite their parents’ influence.
All the ways that their parents’ efforts to mold them into ruthless leaders had actually driven them together and pushed them to seek compassion.
Their parents’ failures had made Enla the Recreants’ greatest hope.
When the memories started to fade, he thought maybe he’d disrupted the control of Mayvus’ brand, but somewhere in his dim awareness he realized it was that he was running out of air.
He was fading from the world.
At the center of the dimness a bright light appeared, an appealing glimmer in the midst of the darkness that called to him.
But a sharp squawk followed by a sickening thud kept Gaeren from reaching for the light.
He sucked in air, then choked on it like he was drowning, twisting to the side to cough and gasp.
As his vision returned, he found himself bent beside his father’s crumpled form.
Scratches marred his father’s forehead, and Gaeren turned to find Gullet’s beady eyes staring down at him from the armrest of his father’s council room chair.
For the first time, the bird’s haughty glare held more pride than hatred, and Gaeren had never been so happy to see the smelly creature. “Gullet? Did you really just save my life?”
“I’d like to take some credit,” Riveran said from behind him.
Gaeren’s laugh burned his throat, but he welcomed the pain. It signified life.
“I thought you were dead, old bird. Did you just get lost tracking down Aeliana?” Gaeren stroked the hawk’s head, but it still nipped at his finger.
Riveran stood with nearly a dozen winex, including Felk, who held down Gaeren’s mother with Lilik’s help. The look on their faces held more animosity than Gaeren liked, so he stumbled to their side with his dagger. “Thank you for your help, but I can cut her brand out.”
Felk twitched as if holding back his desire to chew the mark out himself. “And then you win?”
Gaeren shrugged. “Something like that.”
His mother fought as Gaeren sliced, and he winced, wishing he had Lukai’s or Aeliana’s ability to heal.
But when the brand was removed and his mother had stopped fighting, she sobbed and begged him to do the same for his father.
The winex were quick to obey, slinking over to the king to hold him down.
A few leaned in to sniff him, reminding Gaeren they were in a precarious balance of power.
“How did you find us?” Gaeren asked.
The winex didn’t answer, which wasn’t a surprise, but Riveran’s silence made Gaeren glance up.
Riveran’s face was troubled, and his gaze rested on Enla’s still form. “She left me a note. Told me exactly where you would be and exactly what you would need.”
Gaeren’s stomach turned, and he wondered if he might actually throw up after all he’d been through. “Then that means I didn’t change anything by coming here,” he murmured.
“What?” Riveran asked.
“How could she know?” Gaeren continued, louder this time. “I tried to do something she couldn’t have seen. Something that changed after she told me what would happen.”
“Her visions of the future have gotten stronger,” Riveran admitted. “She’s been telling me things no one should know.” He ran a hand over his hair, making Gaeren realize his X was almost completely hidden now.