42. The Last Night #2
I don’t want to listen to any more of this. I turn to Cosmer to try to get his attention, but he seems fully in Dezeeves’ thrall as he continues this speech he must have prepared.
“In my youth, I was devoted to The Maiden. In fact, I had a love for all of the deities in the known world. I longed to find ways to be closer to them. To prove myself, in their eyes. And that is when I came to Rhavna, and eventually the dome. I was able to meet your – our – queen, not long before her coronation as a young woman herself. The profound impact this visit had on me cannot be understated. I do believe the magic I witnessed there – the blessing of the gods – changed the course of my life. Many of you have your own magic – godliness – which must be placed back into the dome, where it belongs.”
He touches the ducts of his eyes. At some point, he had started weeping.
But all I am, is disgusted. Magic is a blessing from the Sisters, yes, but it is not godliness. What he has just said is blasphemy.
“The Queen will keep you safe from those who may try to harm you for your magic. We know Lartos has long been developing medical treatments using your blood, often unlawfully taken. The Queen is aware.”
Treatments. Like the blood Riss was given.
The Queen is aware.
Of course she is. She probably just turns a blind eye to it. She cares for nothing but the contents of the dome.
Dezeeves sits higher. “I am grateful to have been on this journey with you, as your protector and saviour—”
He’s cut off as Meg’s radio sounds out.
She jumps up and leaves the room, clutching it to her ear.
Dezeeves clears his throat, gaining our attention again.
“And I have one more announcement to make. You all know taking you home was my intention from the beginning. But D – the Queen,” he corrects himself, “gave me another task, which I am afraid I had to keep from you all. I was tasked with the safe return of her son – her firstborn – whose identity she was required to protect. And I am pleased to say that we have also been able to achieve that. You will know more very soon.”
This garners surprised or questioning looks from around the table.
“Where is he?” someone asks.
“Is he at this table?”
Drake is silent. If anything, he seems to be feigning a look of confusion himself.
My heart rate is springing out of control.
But then I remember none of this should matter.
Of course everyone at this table will learn soon Drake’s identity.
Even Cosmer.
He will be hurt – jealous – to know it was Drake I was once promised to. But it won’t be a problem, because I’ll get him to understand my new plan.
Understand I’m his.
I pull Cosmer’s sleeve. “We should go.”
There are creases in his forehead. He’s hunched over. “The Queen’s son?” he murmurs. “What’s he talking about?”
“Cosmer,” I urge him. “You said we would stay for the meal and leave.”
“But—”
He’s interrupted by Rike, who’s now on his feet, leaning on his good leg, shoulders back.
“If the Queen’s firstborn son is here,” he says, voice clear, with his right hand crossed over his heart, “then I would like him to know I will swear fealty to him. My father was Chief Commander of the Guard. We had our differences, but he trained me well. I learned of his passing a year ago. I am hoping, now, to take his place, as would be my birthright, in tradition. And I hope the future king will allow me to do it. It would be an honour.”
“Excellent,” Dezeeves states. “I am sure the Prince will be pleased to hear that. I will let him know personally.”
“Cosmer,” I plead.
I can’t stay here a minute longer. Risk Dezeeves saying anything more that will upset Cosmer before I’ve had a chance, the right moment, to properly explain everything.
He meets my gaze. He’s still frowning.
“All right,” he says, in a distant way.
I try to ignore it. He’s tired. We both are.
It’s been the longest of days.
And the most ridiculous of weeks.
But it’s finally coming to an end. Today, I realise, is Sixth Day.
I don’t excuse us from the table. I was here for the food, and the food only, and I want Dezeeves to see that. I catch sight of him, his frown, in my periphery, but he doesn’t stop us.
Cosmer walks behind me rather than at my side. I’m not sure why I notice that, or why it seems to bother me. I suppose I just thought he might hold my hand.
We stop in the hallway when we see Meg. She’s standing with her back against a wall, clutching her radio to her chest the way a child might clutch a blanket, the antenna brushing her lip. Her eyes are massive, like a ghost has possessed her, and if she opened her mouth, she’d only wail.
Cosmer approaches her right away. “What’s wrong?”
Blinking rapidly, she retracts the antenna and deposits the radio back into her belt.
“Ephraine is dead,” she mutters, not looking at us.
“Dead?” Cosmer’s frown skews his face more. If a wind blew right now, Old Mother would say it would stay like that forever. “Was he killed in the battle?”
“No. He was on The Mantis. Someone from the ship finally answered the radio.”
“Cosmer, come on,” I say. But he’s still staring at Meg.
Don’t ask her. Don’t ask her.
“How did he die, then?”
No.
It’s like being crushed.
Why? Why did he need to ask?
“In the ship’s Osimidite Chamber. Which I cannot understand. He trained his body so hard. Cared for it. I can only think he must have been made to go there, against his will—”
Her eyes, which have been pacing the room, now land on me.
She closes her mouth.
Her eyes narrow. Go from dark, to darker, to darkest black.
She doesn’t say another word. Just spins on her heel and storms back through the grate.
Cosmer turns to me, too, a question in his eyes. “Ephraine, on huff?” he says, disbelieving. “Must have lost his mind. What did he say to you, when you spoke to him?”
I take a breath.
I hate this.
But it’s for the best.
“Honestly, Cosmer,” I say. “Nothing of note. Like I told you.”
His shoulders lift up slightly.
But then they drop.
“Okay,” he says.
I take his hand and hold onto it tighter than I ever have before.