Chapter 82
Gaeren tried to blink past the bright spots in his vision left by Riveran’s use of the golden arrow.
But they were merely replaced by dozens of Ahmranans marching into the council room.
The ease with which Mayvus took over the room left Gaeren baffled.
Thanks to his parents’ orders while branded, their soldiers hadn’t put up a fight.
Now, as they were ushered in as prisoners along with the king and queen, their training kicked in to defend the royal family, but it was too little, too late.
As if sensing her own role in Mayvus’ success, his mother whimpered, and his father held her tighter, whispering words of comfort.
In that moment, they looked weak and tired, and all of Gaeren’s frustrations with them fled.
They’d done terrible things. His father especially hadn’t done right by him as a child.
But right now, they were also victims.
He toyed with the dagger at his belt, wondering if Mayvus was still weak from her time with Durriken.
Could he hurl it in her direction and end all this?
Or would she stop it the same way she’d stopped Sylmar’s molten blades?
If it worked, it might also kill Emeris, and that would kill something in Aeliana.
“It’s been too long,” Mayvus crooned, sidling up to Gaeren as if they were old friends. “I’d hoped we’d meet on better terms than we parted, but it seems you’re already working hard against me.”
She gestured toward his parents, and for the first time, Gaeren noted the bloody mess left in the wake of cutting out their brands. Even his hands had splashes of it, though he’d wiped most of it on his trousers.
“We talked about this last time,” he said evenly. “You should really be enticing people to work alongside you instead of forcing them. It has a better retention rate.”
She smiled, and without warning, she reached for his starlock, snapping the cord from his neck. He made a grab for it, even though he knew it was pointless. If he weren’t so unevenly matched, he might have even fought her for it. But he’d be dead before he could do any real damage.
Even though his parents held no threat in their current state, two of her soldiers took their starlocks as well.
“I’m thinking about starting a collection,” Mayvus said.
“There are a few loyal soldiers in my crew who weren’t blessed by the Sun.
It’s a bit unfair for a Creator to pick and choose, don’t you think?
” She tapped a finger against her lips. “Perhaps that’s why the Sun is stepping back from choosing any of us at all. ”
Gaeren narrowed his eyes, trying to parse out her meaning in this poorly timed riddle while also evaluating his dwindling options to escape. “That’s strange coming from you. I would think you’d be grateful to be chosen. Isn’t that how you got your power to begin with?”
Her smile held the wicked glint of someone with a secret. “We’re on the brink of a new age. Instead of individuals, the Sun has chosen a group of people.”
Gaeren glanced around the room at the Ahmranans. “So the Sun is choosing a group you’re not a part of.”
She peered down her nose at him in the haughty way he remembered from her visits during council meetings. “I’ve been chosen to lead the people.”
He rolled his eyes, knowing he was flirting with disaster but unable to stop himself. “I think I’d have to hear that from the Sun myself before I believed it.”
Her hand gripped his upper arms, her nails digging in until he winced, wondering if she was drawing blood. But a coldness seeped through them that drove deep to his bones, and he feared she was doing something far worse than breaking his skin with her nails.
“I’d heard of your rebellious nature and thought maybe there was something there, something I could work with. But you’ve grown as soft as the other rumors say. I have little use for you as is. And do you know what I do with people I have little use for?”
He hadn’t intended to search for her memories. He didn’t expect he’d be able to without his starlock. But she pushed them on him with such clarity that he wondered where his magic ended and hers began.
Uncle Danton’s broken body lay before him with too much blood to distinguish actual injuries and glassy eyes staring up at him.
From Mayvus’ perspective, he watched her booted foot toe the body and tsk over its lifeless state.
The image was replaced by Croft, or what was left of him.
His body had grown brittle and blue, like he’d been turned to ice and then cracked apart.
Gaeren gasped and tried wrenching free from Mayvus’ grasp, but she held tight, letting the coolness of her touch turn to a freezing burn that made him panic.
The vision faded, and she leaned in until her face was all he could see, her long nose and brown eyes so similar to Emeris’, but full of a contempt her sister had never exuded.
“If controlling someone doesn’t give me more power, I don’t have time to waste on them.” The hatred pouring off her was so visceral he felt certain these were his last moments. But then she released her grip and turned away.
As he rubbed the feeling back into his numb arms, she shifted her attention to his parents.
“Twice branded and twice thwarted,” Mayvus said. “I don’t usually give second chances, but their position of power made me show mercy.”
She let the word hang in the air as she glided toward them.
“They’re worth more alive,” Gaeren said quickly.
Her laugh was high and screeching, like an iceberg scraping against the hull of his ship. “I didn’t expect you to defend them.”
As his parents huddled tighter, he rushed after Mayvus, not sure what he could do to stop her but desperate to try.
But before he could reach her, his mother’s scream met his ears.
The skin of his parents’ faces turned pale, almost white, before taking on the same blue tinge as Croft’s.
His mother’s scream cut off, but both of their eyes went wide, the fear as frozen on their faces as the sweat on their skin.
Gaeren choked on a sob and stepped back, his hands balling into fists in his hair, the need to attack Mayvus warring with the need to be rational, to find a solution that wouldn’t involve him throwing his life away for nothing.
Gasps rose around him as the soldiers of Elanesse all took in the death of their sovereign rulers along with the realization that they’d allowed it to happen.
Cries filled the air as a few rushed to avenge their king and queen the same way Gaeren had wanted to, but with a flick of Mayvus’ hand, their weapons clattered to the floor and their own bodies turned blue.
The show of force riled up the winex and several more soldiers, but the sheer number of Ahmranans made it impossible for them to rally against Mayvus.
“Last time we met, I was too patient and generous.” Mayvus turned her back on the frozen bodies and faced Gaeren once more. “It made me vulnerable.”
“Patient? Or prideful? You’d think surviving Durriken’s death wish might have humbled you.
Made you want to change your ways.” He tried to ignore the way his parents’ bodies became brittle in his periphery, the way small chunks broke apart and tumbled down the dais stairs.
At least it had been quick, perhaps less painful than what some of Mayvus’ other methods might have been.
She snorted and grabbed his hand. “Regardless, I will not make the same mistake again.” She yanked back his tunic’s sleeve, exposing the braid on his wrist, then hesitated, raising her eyebrows. “You might be an even better catch than I thought.”
Without warning, she sliced open his palm with a dagger, spilling his blood into a glass vial. His resistance was like a child against a warrior, and when she had enough blood, she shoved him to the stone floor.
“Controlling you is almost as good as controlling Enla would be. She’s evaded me so far, but I suspect she’ll come for you.
And now I wonder if someone else might too.
Someone else I’m eager to get back. Except this time I won’t be so greedy as to wait for Summer Solstice.
I learned my lesson. Half the power of a brand is better than no brand at all. ”
Her words sent a different spike of fear through him, and his fear of dying by her hand suddenly felt welcome when compared to being controlled. When Enla returned, she’d have no idea he wasn’t himself, just like Iris had had no idea Holm was acting under Mayvus’ control.
Still, something else niggled at the back of his mind.
If Enla had been evading Mayvus, did that mean Enla knew Mayvus had been controlling their parents?
Enla had told him she’d seen all these deaths.
She’d seen them and done nothing about them.
Had she allowed this to happen for her own reasons?
Or had this really been where all the paths led?
He couldn’t imagine her seeing their parents, Uncle Danton, and Croft all dying and deciding it didn’t matter.
Not unless there was something bigger that mattered in the future.
Or… maybe he could no longer trust her.
He shook the thought away, hating the disloyalty behind it.
When Mayvus used the same dagger to cut a mark on her shoulder, a sharp pain knifed through the cut on his palm.
He lunged for her, preferring death over her successfully branding him.
Her hand latched on to his arm, holding him at bay with an iron grip, but at least it kept that hand from being free to use his blood to form the brand mark.
They were at an impasse, one she could easily overcome by killing him, but something she seemed surprisingly hesitant to do.
“Restrain him,” she murmured.
Within moments, two burly Ahmranans pulled him away, holding his arms behind his back.
A smile curled across her face, and she lifted the vial to her shoulder. Before she could follow through, a commotion in the doorway to the council room brought everyone turning that way.
At first Gaeren felt a sense of relief at the sight of familiar faces, but they all appeared beaten and weary, their own starlocks missing from their necks. He counted off his friends, watching as Sylmar and Velden were led to the dais, followed by Marnok, Rildan, Cyrus, Iris, Kendalyhn, and Lukai.
Mayvus capped off the vial of blood and tucked it in her left cloak pocket.
Tension rolled off Gaeren’s shoulders, and a sliver of hope wormed through his gut.
One of the soldiers handed Mayvus a tangled mess of leather cords and starlocks, which she eagerly counted and tucked away in her other pocket, which housed Gaeren’s and his parents’ starlocks.
Then she frowned and scanned the prisoners before stepping toward Velden, squinting at his cheeky grin.
“I’ve heard of you.” She yanked the earrings out of his ears, making him howl as the flesh ripped. “There, now we have them all.”
Brogdon came in near the end of the line, and despite no longer having a starlock, he made a rush for Mayvus, showing a bravery and stupidity that Gaeren hadn’t expected from him.
He got several scratches in on her face before her magic brushed him aside, the force of her blow so powerful he flew against the dais’ edge.
He went still, hopefully just unconscious.
“I really hoped we’d all be able to be civilized adults for this meeting,” Mayvus said, but then she stumbled, placing a hand over her stomach and reaching out to steady herself on the arm of his father’s council room throne. Her face paled, and she glanced around the room. “Where’s Emeris?”
The guards brought her forward, and for the first time Gaeren caught a glimpse of Aeliana supporting her mother. Fear lined her face, and a dozen regrets flooded his mind. When her eyes met his, her features smoothed over a hair, raising his determination to get them out of this mess.
Emeris tripped, drawing his attention to the way her pale features mirrored Mayvus’.
Actually, the closer he looked, the more her face had a greenish tinge, like after Riveran crossed the barriers.
Mayvus bent double, her face holding a similar sickly quality.
Any disbelief he had over the curse’s validity faded as he watched their mirrored reactions.
“What did you give her?” Mayvus moaned, her authority wavering with her voice.
A slow smile spread on Gaeren’s face as he realized what they’d done.
“If you’re going to depend on a curse,” Sylmar said, “you might want to consider all the possible consequences of that curse.”
She turned to glare at him. “What are you talking about?”
He stepped forward, his staff thumping on the wooden dais, making Gaeren wonder if he could still transform the weapon without his starlock.
Could any of them stand against her in her weakened state?
Could they combine efforts with the winex and the Elanesse soldiers to fight against her?
And if they did, would her soldiers turn on her too?
“You saw the curse as an opportunity to extend your life, but you forget that its original intention was to weaken it. You are tied to Emeris in life…and in death.”
“You are even more of a fool than I realized,” Mayvus spat out, “if you think that’s my only path to immortality.” She fished a flask from her cloak pocket and took a swig from it.
“The winex,” Aeliana murmured, her eyes narrowing.
Mayvus paused, then her malicious smile returned. “Some of my men told me you were partial to the beasts.”
Gaeren felt the heat of Aeliana’s glare from across the room even though it wasn’t directed at him.
“You drained their eggs. All so you could test out a theory and sentence your soldiers to death.”
“And yet”—she raised the flask as if to toast Aeliana—“it’s keeping me alive.”
The winex held at bay by the soldiers snarled, and Gaeren silently applauded Aeliana for riling them up. The sliver of hope grew. They might have a chance if they could line up all of their defenses just right.
If they could get Mayvus just a little bit more out of commission, Gaeren could get the starlocks she’d stolen.
His parents’ starlocks wouldn’t be as effective as they’d been for their owners, but they could still boost a progeny’s power.
With half of them gaining back at least some of their power and the winex being primed for a fight, would the soldiers lose heart if they saw she’d been defeated?
“The concoction you’ve brewed still isn’t enough to make you immortal,” Gaeren pointed out.
Mayvus raised her eyebrows. “Oh, I know. I’m not depending on the winex fluid for immortality either.” A sickening smile grew on her face. “I have something far better planned for that.”