The Kingdom’s Reckoning (Of Fire and Lies #4)

Prologue

KAGE

Kage ran his fingertips across the thousands of glass vials littering the shelves of the frigid storage room.

The collection had grown into something quite outstanding, something beyond what he initially dreamed up decades ago.

He paused at a section where a thick layer of dust had collected.

He swiped a finger across the glass, wiping away the dust particles.

Most people feared anger. They ran from it, hid from it.

They stuffed it down, tried to ignore it, and waited for it to fade away.

To an extent, Kage understood their fear.

More often than not, anger and rage were untamable beasts that could wrap their tendrils around your throat and choke you if you weren’t careful.

The king of Ardentol, however, was not afraid of his anger.

He did not ignore it. He did not will it away or pretend that it would disappear on its own.

Instead, he embraced it. He let it fester within him and build and build and build until he needed it most. Until he could use it to its full potential.

He hadn’t always been this way, of course.

Kage could vaguely recall a time in his life when he was like the rest of the world—when he, too, would run away from someone’s anger and hide from his own.

Those years, thankfully, were lost to time, and Kage Domitius was not in the business of going backward.

He plucked a vial from the shelf and spun the glass tube between his thumb and index finger. The liquid sloshed against the sides of the glass and splashed onto the bottom of the cork, soaking it.

While Kage hadn’t anticipated the two prisoners escaping, he always had a plan in case things didn’t go according to schedule. He hadn’t gotten this far without creating contingency plans, after all.

"Sir," the captain of the King’s Guard called from the entrance to the storage room. "She’s ready."

Kage grabbed a second vial and handed both tubes to the young healer standing nearby. "Prepare the table. This should only take a moment."

With blood from the most recent transformation soiling his apron, Dr. Stone eyed the two vials warily as he took them. "Are you sure you wish to go through with this, Your Highness? Once we start, we cannot stop."

Kage tilted his head to the side.

When Dr. Thorne was training the young healer, Kage had done his best to stay as far away from him as possible.

With Thorne’s death, Kage no longer had a choice in the matter.

The young man lacked the same quiet resolve the former healer had adopted in Kage’s presence.

Instead, Dr. Stone preferred to ask questions, to dig deep into the weeds of the experiments and the obstacles that they had faced over the years.

Kage stepped forward, and his nostrils flared at the iron coating Stone’s apron. "Do not question my decisions, Dr. Stone."

The healer quickly bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty."

Huffing, Kage strolled past the healer and said to the captain, "Let’s go, Lundril."

The door swung shut behind them. With the captain a step behind him, Kage made his way through the damp hallways beneath the castle. When he reached the secluded cell, Kage halted.

"Open the door."

Lundril slipped the key into the lock and twisted it, the mechanism clicking. As he opened the door, the hinges creaked. Torchlight spilled inside the small room, illuminating the prisoner within.

The seer lifted her head, the chain around her neck screeching as she moved. Leaning her head against the wall, Lysanthia squinted, her eyes adjusting to the sudden flood of light. "Is it time already?" she croaked.

Kage ignored the seer’s question and stepped inside, his gaze sweeping across the four bare walls. The cell reeked, and his nose scrunched in disgust. "After all this time, I have to ask, do you enjoy being in this cell? Have the chains become a source of comfort?"

Lysanthia stared at him, her light gray eyes ghostly. Her thin, pale skin was even ghastlier.

"Not in a talkative mood today?"

"Ask what you seek, Kage," she said.

He sighed. There was usually more bite to the seer.

Kage typically looked forward to their conversations.

Lysanthia was one of the few people who ever dared challenge him.

Even as the chains wore into her wrists and weighed her body down over the decades, she somehow maintained her spite. It was perplexing. Admirable, even.

He supposed he did have a schedule to keep. "You can see the future. You already know what I wish to know."

"There are many things I know, and many paths yet to be written," she answered as if bored.

"Do you ever grow sick of the riddles?" he asked, curious.

She cocked her head, and her greasy black hair fell to the side. "Not even in the slightest," she said with a saccharine smile.

There she was.

"It did not have to come to this, you know," Kage said.

It was a shame, really. She had been useful to him over the years. Some things weren’t meant to last, though. He had learned that a long time ago.

"Are you afraid of death, Kage?" Lysanthia asked.

"I should be asking you that," he said, motioning for Lundril to come forward. The captain slid his sword from its sheath, and the steel blade gleamed in the torchlight.

"I have known my death was coming for decades," she said.

"Once the tapestry has been woven, the future is sealed.

But your future is still in the works, the stitches yet to be sewn.

Because of this, I have seen your death many times.

I have seen you die of old age, by fire, by blade.

" Her pale gray eyes roamed over him, observing him as she spoke.

Kage gave her nothing, though. He remained rigid, cold, indifferent.

Lysanthia continued, "The saddest instance, though, is the first. For when you are lying in your bed and time has finally strangled the life from you, I see the loneliness of a life that could have had so much love."

Kage tossed back an amused laugh. Here the seer was again, prattling about love. He did not care about such frivolous matters. Not anymore. Not when the power of the world was nearly in the palm of his hand. He snapped his fingers.

Lundril snatched Lysanthia by the chains hanging from her neck. She nearly toppled over, her feeble frame too weak to stay upright.

"You seek power to fill the void she caused," Lysanthia said, peering up at Kage through the greasy strands of hair that fell in front of her face. "You can take the stolen powers, you can create your monsters. But at the end of the day, no matter what you do, the void will never be filled."

Kage scoffed. "I do not wish to fill a void."

"Ah, that’s right. You only wish for power." A smile split her face in two, revealing yellowed teeth. Her gray irises, once dull, now flared with amusement. "But your power will never compare to that of a god."

The muscles in his jaw ticked.

Catching the movement, Lysanthia smirked. "Do you wish to command Kalisandre again?"

Kage smoothed out a wrinkle on his suit jacket. "Soon, I will no longer need her."

"But she would make it easier. She is the key to your plans, the key to commanding the armies, is she not?"

He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. While he had built his army without Kalisandre, losing her required him to readjust certain aspects of his plans. He was making do, though.

"If you spare me, you could gain all that you wish and beyond."

He huffed. He had been right all along despite her claims. The seer did fear death. If she didn’t, she would not have been bargaining with him today. "Why would I bother sparing you? Your use has run its course."

"Have I strayed you wrong yet?"

Lundril looked at him for the order, but the seer’s question made Kage hesitate.

Kage thought the answer was simple, but when he considered it, everything she had told him, every direction he had led her in, had only gotten him closer to achieving his goals.

The experiments had proven successful, his army had grown in strength and numbers, the war was starting, and his allies were falling in line.

"If you spare me, Kalisandre will try to save me for the one she loves. She will propose a trade: her for me. If you take it, you could have the power of the gods at your fingertips. The world will go up in flames because of you."

As if in response, the torchlight flickered in the reflection of Lundril’s sword.

Kalisandre’s emotions were always her weak point. Even as a child, she cared too much, too easily. When the handmaiden had stripped her of her emotions, Kalisandre had truly shined.

A smile stretched across Kage’s lips.

Perhaps her weakness could be his advantage.