Chapter 53 Revelation #2
“Like you knew about what would happen tonight? You said it yourself, Your Majesty.” Kit’s breath frosted in the air when she exhaled.
“The cultist presence in Kingshelm has been insidious indeed. Consider it. Where is the lord paramount now? How could the attack tonight have been enacted—cultists embedded so deeply, so seamlessly within your walls—without Church’s influence? His plans, his orders?”
“We found many suspicious things in the lord paramount’s office.” Tenebris Nox’s unique voice echoed into the room a half-second before the nocterrian stepped out of a shadow between Kit and Cedric. “But none so damning as this.”
Every living person in the throne room seemed to hold their breath as Nox waved their hands in an intricate set of movements before extending a single finger and jerking it downward, like they were slicing through something.
That was essentially what the nocterrian had done, Cedric realized. Shadows wept from a sudden cut in the air. Nox reached a hand inside and pulled out—
“By the Five,” said King Callum. “The crown?”
Kit nodded, tapping a finger on one of the Crown of Concord’s gilded spires as Nox displayed it to the room.
“We found this in a blood-locked safe in Church’s study.
Amongst other things.” Her blue and green eyes flicked to Cedric.
“I fear there is no other conclusion to draw. Lord Church and Varyth Malchior are one and the same. He has betrayed you. Betrayed his people. Betrayed Arcanis.”
A chorus of heavy breathing was the only sound flowing through the throne room, other than the small squeak of protest Barcroff made when Nox tucked the crown back into its shadowy pocket.
After a minute, the silence broke, multiple voices carrying across the room, asking questions and spouting theories.
Cedric didn’t hear a single one.
“Cedric . . .” Elyria’s voice in Cedric’s head sounded very far away. His mind spun. It simply couldn’t be. Could it? It was impossible. Wasn’t it?
This was the man who raised him. Saved him. Made sure he had a roof over his head and food in his belly and an education and all the training he would ever need . . .
So that Cedric could take on the Arcane Crucible.
So that he could secure the crown.
So that he could obtain ultimate power for Havensreach.
No. Not for Havensreach. Not for humanity’s sake.
For him.
And when the Crucible was conquered but the power of the crown remained out of reach, Cedric became his new plan.
Because he had to have known.
Who Cedric was.
Who he might become.
Cedric’s chest felt as though it might cave in on itself as more than twenty years of his life flashed in front of his eyes. Two decades of lies. Of falsehoods and fake niceties and faux family.
Because Cedric’s own family had been murdered in cold blood by sanguinagi cultists.
Because his mother had been ripped apart by dark magic that could only have stemmed from one source.
Cedric blinked away tears as a soft hand slipped into his. He hadn’t noticed Elyria coming to stand behind him.
“He killed my parents,” Cedric said, his voice barely a whisper, even in his mind.
Rage and resolve vibrated down the bond in equal measure.
“He will pay for it,” Elyria replied. “He will pay for it all.”
His fingers folded around hers. He drew her close, the feel of her at his side grounding, calming. The sharp inhales from Barcroff and the council members, from the royal guards watching them, rang in his ears.
Cedric didn’t care.
He meant what he said before. Knew it to be true. Havensreach and Nyrundelle never needed to be at odds. They would not be again.
Cedric and Elyria would make it so, someday.
For what it was worth, King Callum barely seemed to notice the two of them. He was far too busy reeling from this new revelation, even as the toll the attack had taken on him—physically and otherwise—became more and more apparent.
“Where is Portentia?” said the king, his shoulders heaving, his face white. “Does she know what her father has done? Is she in league with him?” He looked to Kit. “You said Levia—Varyth Malchior held the crown in a blood-locked safe. How did you get past it?”
Kit nodded. “Tenny helped us. She didn’t know—doesn’t know. She is still here, in the palace, and she can—”
“She’s not!” Tristan’s voice was wild as he raced into the throne room with a sobbing Addison on his heels.
“He came,” cried Addison, her cheeks splotchy and wet.
“We thought—we thought he was there to help us. To get us out. But there had been so much chaos, so many traitors amidst the palace already. And one of the guards, Donnie, he asked a question—just one question, and—” Her words came in fits and bursts, wedged between sobs.
“Aurelia help us all—he—he—” She dissolved, sinking to the floor.
Tristan’s voice was as sharp and cold as steel when he continued for her. “Donnie was already dead when I arrived. Addison said Tenny bargained for the rest to be spared. That she would go with her father willingly if he left them alone.”
Cedric’s stomach bottomed out.
“She’s gone, Ric. He has her.”