Chapter 88
As Gaeren leaned against the door separating him from Orra and whatever Stars she spoke with, a second round of heat came, forcing him away. He hadn’t been able to hear anything more than murmurs out on the tower anyway.
The realization that his parents’ bodies were now burned up, their starlocks taken by the Stars, distracted him from any eavesdropping efforts.
He trudged down the steps, warding off anyone headed up the tower, then locked the door from the main hall, deciding Orra probably had ways of getting around something as trivial as a man-made lock.
In his absence, the council room had emptied far quicker than he’d expected.
He’d only given a few commands to his parents’ soldiers, but they’d been followed with precision and efficiency—something that made him feel oddly more connected to his family’s throne.
His parents hadn’t been perfect. Far from it.
But they’d done some things well enough to garner that kind of loyalty.
Sylmar, several of the soldiers, and all of the Ahmranans who hadn’t escaped had been put in prison until their stories could be sorted out.
Those remaining aided the injured or removed bodies, starting with the progenies, who were taken to the towers.
Several of the dead were soldiers he’d probably known all his life, even trained with under his uncle’s tutelage.
He scanned the group, verifying Cyrus, Brogdon, Lukai, and Kendalyhn were all accounted for.
Hopefully the sailors had remained safe enough in town, warning the people.
The one person he sought most was absent.
A familiar shorn head stuck out in the corner, the lanky vest-clad form bent over an injured soldier. Gaeren made his way to Velden’s side and kneeled next to him. “Where’s Aeliana?”
Velden glanced up, his eyes haunted. “Rildan and Marnok carried Emeris’ body to one of the towers. I think she and Iris followed.”
“Where did they take Mayvus’ body?”
“Who cares?” Velden muttered, turning back to his patient and slathering his seaweed mixture on the man’s leg. The soldier’s moan turned into a pained sigh.
“I care to verify that she’s really dead this time.”
Velden glanced up at Gaeren’s sharp tone, his irritation softening. “I think they took her to the same tower. Someone blocked off the closest one, so they’ve all had to go to the turret in the western wing.”
Gaeren didn’t bother admitting it was he who’d blocked it off. He clapped Velden on the shoulder as he stood. “Thank you for giving the same care to the Loyalists as the Recreants.”
The ghost of a grin fluttered on Velden’s face. “I don’t fault them for their loyalty, just who they choose to be loyal to.”
“And if they choose to be loyal to Enla?” Gaeren murmured, posing the question more for himself. Riveran would bring her back, and then everything would change. But for the better or worse? How would it affect the Recreants? And how would it affect Aeliana?
If Velden answered, Gaeren didn’t hear it as he stormed off to the western wing and the stairs leading to its tower. This turret was typically used by one or two soldiers as a lookout for ships, so when Gaeren stepped out on the balcony, it felt overcrowded.
Several bodies were laid out alongside Emeris’.
Some he recognized as his parents’ men; others were less familiar in their humble Recreant clothing.
Even a few winex had been given the honor of being burned up by the Stars despite the fact they held no starblood.
He suspected that had been Aeliana’s doing, but as he scanned the terrace, he didn’t see her.
“Iris?” He bent over the woman grieving alongside Rildan and Marnok.
She turned with a sniffle, confusion in her eyes.
“Do you know where Aeliana is?”
She shook her head. “She said she’d come when she was ready.” She turned back to the woman she’d served most of her life.
Her answer made Gaeren uneasy, and he weaved his way through the mourners, asking again if anyone knew where she might be. Before he found a definitive answer, a woman came through the door from the palace, her white dressed singed and covered in black ashes.
“Orra?” Gaeren rushed to her side, checking her over for burns or cuts. Was it possible for the Stars to burn her even though she was one of them? Despite the state of her clothing, her body seemed unharmed. “What happened?”
“Where’s Sylmar?” she rasped out.
He shook his head. “They’re taking him to the prisons, but they won’t let you in. Aeliana and I gave strict instructions that he shouldn’t be seen.”
She tightened a hand around his arm. “Please, Gaeren. He knows where the onyx stone is.”
Gaeren hesitated. “It’s too soon, Orra. He just killed Emeris. Can we even trust anything he says?”
She huffed in frustration, then closed her eyes. “When the timing is right…” she mumbled.
Before he could ask what she meant, a rumble carried across the skies as if an unseen storm rolled in. Everyone glanced up, fear in their eyes. Gaeren turned to take in the sight of Durriken soaring across his view of the moon.
Another eerie cry escaped the beast, followed by a blast of flame that lit up the sky, revealing a lone figure on his back, sitting tall and proud.
Gaeren held his breath, the moment bringing him back to the first time he’d seen her all grown up, reaching out to touch a deadly dragon with her hair billowing in the wind.
He brought his wrist to his lips, letting them graze the soft hairs of her braid.
She’d always been fierce. Even in her toddler days when she’d demanded he catch tadpoles or string together daisy chains. The people around him all stood, placing three fingers to their foreheads before inclining their heads in a bow.
She may not have been eager to take on a leadership role, but he suspected her current show of power and authority meant she’d come to terms with it. A smile slowly spread on his face, even though she’d further established herself as an enemy to his family’s throne.
Now everyone could see her the way he always had.
He placed three fingers to his forehead and bowed his head.