Chapter Twenty-One
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Mira
For hours, I stared at the door to my cell.
The darkness was so complete that it had started to feel like a living, breathing thing. Aside from Darius, who was in the cell next to mine, I couldn’t see the other prisoners clearly. But I could hear them: sometimes they screamed, clawing against the walls. Other times, they only groaned.
I closed my eyes, trying to block it out. For a short, wonderful moment – when I’d first woken up in the coach and felt its faint rocking motion – I’d believed that I had made it onto the Drakkar after all.
At least until Scarlett had brought me back to reality.
‘They’re going to execute my mother,’ I said, thinking of everything the princess had told me – and everything she hadn’t. ‘They’re going to execute us both, in front of a crowd of witnesses.’
‘Yes.’ Darius’s voice was carefully even. ‘I’m sorry.’
I laughed humourlessly. I’d trusted Celeste so much I had almost believed that together, we could do the impossible. But no one escaped the empire’s justice. How ironic that it had once been a source of pride to me – even hope. Hope for a better life, free of our pursuers.
Darius stood, facing the bars of his cell. I wondered if he’d been in the emperor’s dungeons before. He’d told me that Jadis and Elian had escaped; maybe they could orchestrate a rescue.
But Darius didn’t look like he was thinking about plans for escape. His sea-green eyes were fixed on me. ‘I loved her. Your mother,’ he added. ‘Despite everything, I love her still.’
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing. I leant against the bars instead, bowing my head as moisture welled in my eyes. But I didn’t feel sad. I felt numb, separate from my body except for the gnawing ache of hunger.
‘I met Adalyn when she was a pickpocket in the Lower Districts,’ Darius continued. ‘She took me under her wing – saved me from starvation, like she’d done for others in her crew. We lived hand to mouth for years, eking out a living through petty crime. It was the closest thing to a family I’d ever experienced.’
Somehow, his words – and the sincerity in them – reached me. This description of my mother made more sense than the callous murderer Zandri had described. ‘Do you know why she was on the streets?’
He shrugged. ‘Adalyn liked to live in the moment; the past was never her favourite subject.’
Look forward, don’t dwell, move on.
‘That sounds like her,’ I said, overcome by a crippling wave of guilt. If I had continued living by those rules, Zandri never would have followed me to the circus. And maybe . . .
I stopped the thought before it could form. There was no point wishing I had made a different choice. It wouldn’t change anything.
‘That group my mother started – that became the Ravalian resistance, didn’t it?’
Darius smiled a little. A smile that quickly faded. ‘Years later, that’s what I turned it into.’
There it was again. Pride at standing up to the regime – at spitting in the face of the emperor.
It rankled me. Even now, trapped in a Ravalian dungeon.
‘We lived in the Western Lands for a while,’ I said suddenly, unable to help myself. ‘It was a prosperous place back then, its people mostly peaceful. Then a faction of insurgents gained hold in the countryside and incited the people into violence. A few Warriors told me what the regional towns look like now – thousands of mud-brick buildings reduced to rubble.’
Darius stiffened. ‘It’s not about inciting violence for us. It’s about protecting people – ordinary people – who have no one else to turn to. You’ve seen the state of the Lower Districts.’
‘Surely the emperor—’
‘The emperor doesn’t care.’ The words were flat and cold. ‘He knows, but he doesn’t care. As for Zigilia – it might have been prosperous on the surface, but many of its people are born with magic. They’re stolen from their families, forcibly inducted into the Orders—’
‘Where they’re given every luxury—’
‘Except choice,’ Darius finished. ‘You don’t see it yet, but the empire is corrupt and brutal – a tarnished husk of what it used to be, with the court as its rotten centre. I should know. I have recruits in the Orders – or I did.’ Even in the darkness, I saw the way his jaw clenched. ‘They only lasted a few months before the crown prince discovered them. They were—’
‘Sacrificed,’ I said through numb lips, thinking of Kain. ‘In battle.’
‘Yes.’ Darius glanced at me curiously, but I didn’t elaborate. Everything I believed was reframing itself into something twisted and awful. ‘And now, with me locked up . . . I’m not sure the resistance will survive. Jadis and Elian are tough, but the others are scared. There’s been too many defeats recently, and I was hanging on to my leadership by a thread before – well, before all this.’ His grip tightened around the bars.
I reached out, offering Darius my hand. He only hesitated for a second before grasping it, his skin warm and calloused around mine.
‘What happened?’ I asked softly. ‘What did my mother do that was so terrible?’
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. ‘She fell in love.’
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. I thought of the father I’d never had the chance to know, whose identity had always been kept secret.
Then I thought of my mother’s insistence on fleeing to Kalure. The presence of the Kalurian governor.
‘He was Kalurian, wasn’t he?’
‘Yes,’ Darius answered. ‘His name was Arioch. Adalyn met him when she travelled to Kalure.’
Arioch.
I inhaled sharply. It was a name I’d heard only once before: during my history classes back on Aldara.
It was the name of the Kalurian king.
‘The Ravalians assassinated the royal family first,’ Darius continued, ‘and then sent their ships. Your mother fled with you just before the invasion; she always was remarkably resourceful. Most people believed she was killed in the fire that destroyed the Kalurian palace.’
The roaring in my ears drowned out Darius’s words. Of course Zandri had wanted to capture me and my mother. Of course the emperor wanted to make a spectacle of our execution.
I was the princess and rightful heir to the Kalurian throne.
I turned to Darius, intending to question him further, when booted footsteps rang down the hall. I straightened, my muscles protesting after remaining in one position for so long.
‘The emperor likes to make an example of anyone who is different,’ Darius said quickly, ‘and I’ve been different from birth.’ He gestured to his missing arm. ‘But this doesn’t make me weak; it makes me strong. Just like your Kalurian blood makes you strong.’
I felt the strength of his conviction seep into me. The worst had come to pass, but I wasn’t crumbling. And I refused to give them the satisfaction of watching me break.
‘Remember, darlin’,’ Darius said, low and fierce, ‘they want a spectacle. So don’t give them one.’
I nodded and turned to face the guards. My composure didn’t falter as they undid my manacles, the restraints clattering heavily to the floor. It didn’t falter as I followed them through the dark corridors, past the endless rows of cells.
Because Darius had given me exactly what I needed – an enemy to fight. He’d reminded me of the girl I had been, the one so determined to survive the Trials. To succeed, even in the face of overwhelming odds.
And as the guards led me up into the searing light, I clung to that conviction like a lifeline.
Whatever happened, I would face my death like a Warrior – like the Warrior I would never have the chance to become.
The roar from the stands was deafening. The Trials hadn’t officially begun, but this was the opening show. And the crowd wanted blood.
My mother was already in the staging area, her face pale but calm. She met my eyes steadily, holding her head high. But I could see the faint tremble of fear in her hands.
‘Mira, I—’
‘I know,’ I said softly, giving her the bravest smile I could manage. ‘Darius told me about my father. It doesn’t matter now. None of it matters.’
We were about to enter Ravalia’s famous arena, and the irony wasn’t lost on me. I’d spent so long hoping to stand, victorious, on the onyx podium in the centre of that arena. Instead, I was preparing to face my own death.
Would Aric be somewhere nearby, preparing for the Trials? I hoped with all my heart that he wasn’t in the stands. That he wouldn’t be forced to sit and watch while—
‘I’ve made so many mistakes,’ my mother murmured. ‘I should have told you everything, but I wanted to protect you – to shield you from my past. And I . . . I didn’t want you to hate me.’
Those last words were little more than a whisper, but they were heartfelt and precious. Filled with truth.
‘I could never hate you,’ I breathed. ‘Never.’
My mother entwined her fingers with mine. Her lips were pale, bloodless, as she whispered, ‘They still might spare you.’
It would take nothing short of a miracle to save either of us. But I held her hand tightly, trying to communicate everything I couldn’t say – all the love and fear I was keeping locked in my chest, hidden from the callous eyes of our audience.
‘At least we’ll be together,’ I said quietly, my eyes darting to my mother’s and then away. It was an effort of will to keep my expression steady, to force myself to remain strong.
‘Together,’ she agreed, tears spilling down her cheeks.
‘It’ll be quick,’ I reassured her. ‘So quick we barely notice.’
There was a flicker of something in my mother’s eyes, something close to approval.
‘You would have made a brilliant Warrior, Mira.’ Her lips curved into a soft, sad smile. ‘You would have made an even better ruler.’
It looked like she might say more, but she never had the chance. Black-garbed Warriors filed in, one on each side of us.
The message was clear. Time to go. Time to die.
As my hand was ripped from my mother’s, her hazel eyes met mine unflinchingly. Her last words to me were:
‘Your father would have been proud.’