30. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Tanead
G uards held my arms out from my sides as they cut my clothes from my body. Shame they didn’t do it in front of all the court.
Titillated whispers would circulate as my road-tattered clothes fell away. A gentle breeze would flutter in from the big windows and tickle. I would smile, glad to be rid of the stink of the old robes, happy to be on display.
Ladies would lean in to see me. They’d peer past their husbands and their flapping fans. Their eyes would widen with horror and intrigue as they devoured the snarl between my legs. My rod was more horn-like than a man’s. Firm, even when soft. Curved, and pointed. Their fans would quiver as they imagined what it would do to their insides.
Some of them would call for me though, if the emperor didn’t make me disappear. Carving their courtly cunts up could be fun, but I doubted I’d be given the opportunity.
They’d already taken me out of the light. Down and down and down. They hooded me, but I could feel our direction. No gentle breeze tickled my exposed parts. There were no windows here.
It was said that Tajawls didn’t feel fear. But I remembered my mother telling me otherwise when I was a toddling boy. She cuddled me on my mat as I sank into sleep, but she still wore her leather breastplate, so it was like snuggling a rock.
We feel afraid like everybody else. But we understand something that everybody else does not. Fear is only a shadow cast by a future that might happen. If you acknowledge the shadow, you bring about the future you fear. But if you face forward and confront what’s in front of you, ignoring the shadow, you can make the shadow disappear.
Shadows were all around me as I descended into the Emperor’s Dungeon. They whispered that my mother had died here. She’d been brought here and never escaped. She, too, contained the power of fire, but it had not been enough to help her. Like her, I might never escape. Like her, I might never Ride a dragon.
The tunnels twisted and the tunnels turned. We must have been deep inside Kutha’s corpse by the time the guards (twelve of them, all for little me; I could hear their footsteps) shoved me inside a cage.
It was tiny, wide enough to contain a standing man but not much wider. I pressed my face to the bars to feel their substance.
Dragonstone. I sank down into a squat and pressed my palms to the floor of the cage. Dragonstone.
Fuck.
The door swung shut and a lock clicked. I pulled the hood off my head and stared straight into the eyes of the guard before me. He wore a cocky smirk, but he was nervous. I scented the fear on him, animal fear. He was a mouse in the plains and I was a snake. I thrust my head forward suddenly, startling him back. The others laughed at him and his face grew red. He laughed off his fear, pretending it had been a joke.
I’d learned that the shadows could go away if I threw them at other people. My mother never taught me that.
I stumbled as the cage shifted.
The guard’s smirk became a smile. I’d been so intent on him that I’d failed to notice the thick rope attached to the top of the cage. It was wrapped around a wheel that required the strength of several men to spin it. With each turn of the wheel, the cage rose higher.
Time to assess my surroundings, then.
I was in a dragonstone cavern. There were no indicators that other prisoners were kept here or that men regularly spent any time here. No instruments of torture, no chairs, no rack. There was one notable feature—a massive fucking hole in the ground, wider than the pit below Archeon. A crack in the ground bisected it. It crossed the room and kept going beyond the wall, which was cracked, too. The entire Palace of the Suns stood on a failing foundation.
My horns caught on the bars of my cage as I tried to peer down. I was being tugged out over the pit. When they finished, I’d be dangling high above it. Even if I could melt my way out—by reaching the lock, perhaps—I’d be too high to jump to safety. Death would be my only escape.
So why was a smile climbing up my cheeks?
Because green light pulsed from inside that pit, neon bright. The entire stone cavern was lit with its eerie glow. I stared down with my face pressed tight to the bars, but the depth of the pit was obscured by the foggy light that spilled from it.
The priestess had told me once what Threads looked like. “The touch of the gods is green,” she said. “Green as my eyes. The whole world is lit up in green.” I'd never been able to see it before and I didn't know why I could here and now. I didn't care, either.
It hurt my cheeks how widely I smiled. I wanted to laugh at all of them, stupid fucking Slayers. They brought me to the one place inside this palace that I’d want to go: to the pit containing Kutha’s egg.
Ironically, Kutha was associated with the underworld and death. He did not die in battle like Archeon. He’d died in his sleep; his body was curled up like a large rock, wings and tail tucked around his gut. The shifting lands had begun to reclaim him. He was naught now but a foundation the Slayers used as host for the cruel games they played.
I was a part of those games, now.
A chuckle sounded inside my mind, a deep sound, old as time. It wasn’t the sound of my own thoughts. You understand well, child of Riders. Welcome.
My heart raced. The soldiers threw insults at me from below but I ceased to hear them. I pressed my face tight to the bars, yearning to be closer to what lay below.
Are you Kutha? I sent the thought with all my being. Would he hear?
I am your god, the deep voice confirmed.
You lie below me? How are you speaking to me? Have you been reborn?
Another chuckle. It is my light that you see, but I am not yet reborn. I have brought you here to help me, my child.
My heart swelled. A tear leaked spontaneously down my cheek. Suddenly everything that had happened since I left the Mother’s Womb seemed right. The eclipse that had come just as I met Caelan was fated. My capture and subsequent failure at Archeon was fated. It was not Archeon I was meant to Ride. It was not Asherah. It was Kutha.
I sank to my knees, though the tight cage barely allowed it.
I am honored to be your Chosen, oh Great One. I will do everything in my power to serve.
Another chuckle. I know.
My cage stopped ascending. It swayed lightly as the guards tied the rope off. I no longer feared dropping into the pit. Instead, I yearned for the bottom.
“Thank you. These accommodations are lovely,” I said earnestly to the guards as they shuffled out. I enjoyed the flicker of doubt that crossed their faces before they convinced themselves that I was insane. These humans. Always convincing themselves of something.
“See if you think so after the crown prince comes to visit,” one of them shot back.
But I was unconcerned with the promise of torture. There were no shadows in the light of the god.