38. Ezra
Ezra
I was breaking and entering into my own home.
A home that had been mine for the last four years. It was no longer Targon’s. He lost that privilege when he deserted his own men. I felt my skin crawl with murder on my mind.
One black boot stepped in front of the other again.
I crept through my own dark-lit hallway.
The familiar musky scent of wet limestone stuck to the walls as I brushed my fingers along the side.
Over my shoulder, Casimir followed closely behind.
None of our servants survived the attack.
Casimir hadn’t been his usual self since then.
I didn’t expect anything less after losing his lover, no matter how short-lived it was.
We’d been traveling since the night of the ambush, back to the Atrove. I explained everything to Casimir: my leadership, the Atrove, what I knew of Targon. He wasn’t surprised and told me he had suspected something like it.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about Eshe and Norrah. I could only hope that they had made it to somewhere safe, perhaps back to Urnaz. But knowing Eshe, I wouldn’t be surprised if she made her way toward Crahst and her brother. That scared me the most.
Not knowing which direction she had chosen.
Twenty more feet down this tunnel and we’d be there.
I followed the path to the only man I trusted to take care of the Atrove when I was not here. Pulling the white hood further over my face, I noticed Casimir had done the same. If anyone walked through, they wouldn’t recognize either of us.
Ten more feet.
We turned a curved corner, and my ears perked for any sounds other than Casimir’s heavy footsteps behind me.
My heart pounded.
As soon as we approached, I pulled the linen tapestry to the side and walked through, my brother right after me.
The sliding of the chair made a large man stand up, whirling toward me.
Lazerak.
His eyes were wide with surprise and fury. He didn’t say another word, but ushered me with his dark-skinned hand through the chamber and into the next. Casimir and I passed his bedchamber, and to the further chamber he owned, a place with a low couch and a desk.
A place where we could speak our thoughts.
“There are two of you? Fucking hell.” Lazerak brushed a large palm over his white beard, which matched the curls on the top of his head. “There should be a law about that. That’s fucked up, Ruhn.”
Only my men know me by that name.
“Or should I say Ezra?” he proceeded with a brow raised.
My eyes darted to his, and I narrowed them.
“That’s right. Targon just told everyone. A lot of them weren’t too happy to hear their leader was also leading Tehara… a clear conflict of interest.” He crossed his arms.
I placed my hands into my pockets, trying to compose the rage that built up within me, and lifted my head to meet Lazerak’s eyes.
It wasn’t as dangerous for the Atrove to know who they worked for or with, but rather people who were not part of the Atrove.
If my men knew I was a Qahl, it would have complicated some things, but it wasn’t a life-and-death situation.
But with the right man and the right manipulation, it could be used to persuade a few others to betray me.
I palmed my own face and took a breath.
“You weren’t here when he came in. The older Atrovians thought they were seeing God for the first time. It was fucking ridiculous.”
“I bet,” I said. “Listen, how many have converted?”
Lazarak merely shrugged. “I’ve only spoken to Ylias, Solomon, Aulus, Clyde, Silas and a few others.”
“What was your plan?” I asked, needing to be brought up to speed.
“We’ve been waiting for you, even though Targon said you’d be dead. Some didn’t believe his words, so we’d been keeping quiet. We actually have a meeting tonight. You got here just in time.”
I took a seat on the low couch, fucking exhausted. “No more waiting. This isn’t Targon’s doing, as he will come and go as he pleases.”
“I know.” Lazerak shook his head absently, staring at the floor ahead of him.
“Knowing my identity shouldn’t rile so many against me,” I spoke my thoughts out loud. I was disappointed. “I expect my men to be loyal, Goddamn.”
“You’re right. I think the older Atrovians… they got to some of the others before I could. But I know there are some of us, more than I can count, who don’t agree with any of this. Some that are still loyal to you.”
I took another deep breath, but the air seemed unwilling to fill my lungs. My chest was tight as I spoke. God, how many of these do I have to take in order to feel like I can finally breathe again?
“Anything else you can think of that I need to know? What has Targon been up to while he’s been here?”
“He just got in a few nights ago. Another man was here, Gabriel. Riled some up, knowing he wasn’t one of us—some thought he looked familiar. He took a woman with him that Targon promised—”
“Norrah?” My voice rose without control. I lifted myself from the couch.
Lazerak looked at me quizzically. “Yes… I—I think that’s what her name was.”
“Holy fuck,” I heard pure exasperated dread from Casimir. His head was in the palms of his hands, and he was taking a deep breath.
“No… no.” I shook my head in disbelief. Are you fucking kidding me? “Norrah was under my protection,” I explained to Lazerak. “Was she here with—”
“Princess of Zyriah, Eshe. Yes,” he answered with eyes wide, as if he didn’t know how important these women were to the Atrove or to me. “She was taken by Targon.”
“Where is she? Where did he take her?” I lurched at Lazerak, holding him by the tunic in my hands. I couldn’t see straight. I was seeing blinding red.
“Ruhn, she’s here.” Lazerak held his palms in front of me. I knew he was loyal to me. I knew that I had to calm down, but I just couldn’t. She was everything to me. “She’s safe. She’s here,” he repeated, placing his palms on my shoulders.
I was about to lose my mind when I felt Casimir’s hand on my back.
This was so fucking bad.
What did Targon have to do with Eshe and Norrah?
“Come, I’ll show you where she is, but we have to move quickly.”
I let go of the tunic, and we followed Lazerak through the hallways, hoods pulled forward. Nodding at the occasional Atrovian we passed as my heart pounded against my chest.
She had been here all along.
We went to the lowest level of the Atrove, where the prisoners were kept.
I never put Eshe in these chambers because she was never a prisoner to me.
Here she was, in the most terrible room.
There were no small windows or open gates to see the light.
It was pure darkness, unless there was a candle lit.
It was cold down here, something no one who lives in desert countries was used to. It was torture.
Isolated.
A tomb where we temporarily placed prisoners. It was just a matter of when we were going to kill them after we got the information we wanted.
We arrived at one of the chambers, and by the looks of it, she had no guard. We approached the door, and Lazerak made a quick motion to unlock it with his keys.
My throat tightened at the sight of Eshe lying on the floor.
I rushed to her and dropped to my knees. I pulled her limp head onto my lap, “Eshe, my love.” Brushing her hair off her face, I placed the strand behind her ear. “Eshe.”
She wasn’t waking.
I quickly placed my fingers around her throat to feel her pulse.
And I did.
My hands pressed around her shoulders and shook her. “Eshe.”
For a moment, I was taken back to when I saw her nearly dying in front of me in the flooded baths. And to the moment when I found her in destruction.
She was here.
I knew it in my heart—she had to be here. Just moments before the explosion, I heard her behind the column, listening to Casimir and me. She wasn’t as quiet as she liked to think she was.
But I wished I could hear her snarky comments or her carefree laugh. I had to hear her voice one more time. I had to.
My hands gripped the sharp-edged pieces of marble, leaving streaks of blood against the white pieces. I had been digging through the rubble for hours, for her, and my skin was a bloody mess. My mind couldn’t stop screaming at me to find her.
To find my need.
I was losing my mind—my control. Anyone who could see me would only see an insuppressible animal.
The early morning light was finally showing the wake of destruction.
I could only imagine that she wasn’t breathing, that she was suffocated underneath.
We had found Yonam. His head had been smashed against one of the walls.
He most likely had not even known the feeling of death until the afterlife. My heart squeezed at the sight of him.
He was always my favorite of the two brothers.
He was real. He was a light to this world.
I was at the center of the ruins when I finally saw a white fabric. Then I saw a hand between two fallen stones. My heart shattered, and my breath grew frantic.
Without a second to spare, I grabbed the heavy piece of marble off her arm.
Her face caused my heart to pummel down into my stomach.
Eshe.
No.
Her soft red lips were open and bleeding.
As soon as I lifted the rest of the debris off her body, I brought her into my lap and felt for a heartbeat on her pale neck.
Please, please be alive.
The heartbeat was so faint, I barely breathed.
“Eshe, please,” I whispered, swallowing thickly.
I coaxed her. “Wake up…” The morning light gave her face more clarity now. Her eyes were shut, and I couldn’t see those silver-grays. I was angry. I was out of control. I squeezed my arms around her body.
“I will protect you, I swear… I’ll keep you somewhere safe. No one will be able to find you and hurt you again. Give me another chance.”
Footsteps slid behind me. “She’s unconscious, but she’s alive.”
I placed my trembling hands around her heart-shaped face. “Eshe, come back to me,” I whispered in her ear. My forehead pressed into hers. “Just give me another chance…”
“Targon’s been giving her the tea.”
I nodded, letting out a breath, pleading with her to wake up soon. “Of course, he would. She’s relentless when it comes to escaping chambers.”
Casimir scoffed quietly behind me. I slid my arms under her knees and her neck and brought her close to my chest.
We locked the chamber again before we brought her to Lazerak’s second chamber, on the low couch.
I had no idea when they last forced the tea into her, so she could be waking up at any moment.
Placing her on the couch, I brushed my lips against her forehead.
My chest tightened at the sight of her completely vulnerable.
I hated it.
I needed her in front of me, arguing with me, pushing or pulling me, whatever she wanted. I needed her touch, her words, her fighting strength. I needed her with me because we promised if we did something, we would do it together, and right now I needed to burn this fucking place to the ground.
Swallowing the painful lump that rose in my throat, I stood up and met Lazerak’s eyes. He now knew about Eshe and me, and I didn’t care.
Things were going to change around here, and it was about time they did.
The meeting was held in Lazerak’s first chamber, curtains pulled closed so that no one saw Eshe lying lifeless on the couch.
Ylias, Solomon, Aulus, Clyde, Silas, and more showed up with hoods down. There were perhaps fifteen of us, and when Lazerak pulled the linen curtains closed, I pulled my hood down.
I heard murmurs, lots of swear words, and sighs of what seemed like relief.
“You’re back,” Solomon, one of my best warriors, muttered.
“About fucking time,” another said.
“Where’ve you been?” Aulus asked.
I took a deep breath before I placed my hands out, silencing them. “I was attacked by some of the Atrovians on the east side.”
“Holy shit,” Silas said in his hands. No doubt thinking this was all a mess. Which it was.
“I came as soon as I realized the shift was happening,” I explained. “But… before you decide anything, there is something you should know if Targon’s reign is truly over.”
There was a quietness that wafted through the chamber.
“I’ll be changing the law.” My men, including Lazerak, began to shift their feet, but I kept mine planted. I had to remain calm and collected through this bomb I just planted in front of them.
Something that would shake the entire Atrove. Something that could change it forever.
Over the next hour, we went over the plan for tonight.
We wouldn’t let Targon have any more time to plant his seeds into the heart of the Atrove.
There was an event happening tonight in the arena where Targon was going to speak.
After going over the plans and ensuring every one of these men knew who they were trusting with this information, they departed from the room.
Casimir and Lazerak hung back.
It was a good plan, but we had to depend on every one of them to remain faithful to me.
One might have considered it idiotic to explain my plans when I wasn’t in control, but I had a feeling this was exactly what they needed in order to trust me again.
I slipped into some of Lazerak’s clean robes, and so did Casimir.
We were refreshed, fed, and hydrated. Every moment I had until the moment I left was spent by Eshe’s side, willing her to wake.
I checked her entire body, making sure there were no bruises, scrapes, or cuts.
I partially did it in hopes that she’d wake in the midst of it and yell at me.
But she didn’t.
I stared at her face, her lips, her brows for as long as I could. I tried to burn her face into my memory. My chest hurt.
When the time came, I whispered to her lips, “I’ll be back.” And I pressed them on hers, breathing her jasmine scent once more.
By the time we made it to the arena, there were a few older Atrovians speaking in hushed voices as we lay back, waiting. My hood was lower, but I had to keep an eye out for anything.
I heard his powerful voice as he walked over to the arena, and my heart stopped briefly.
It must have been a coincidence. I’d never met the man, but for some reason, I felt as though I had.
His long, lanky body stepped up to the platform before leaning over and grabbing a cup from one of the men. That was when it hit me.
This was the man to whom I gave Eshe. I would never forget a face like his.
This was Eshe’s Salazar.
Targon was Salazar. I had known the Atrovian leader since I met Salazar eight years ago. He was there when the explosion happened in Zyriah. He took Eshe from me to Mongah with him, and that was when news had spread that the Atrovian leader had died or gone missing.
Why did he take Eshe?