51. Chapter 45
Chapter 45
Tanead
“ A re you bored of the scent of your own shit?” Amon asked when next he arrived. After I’d passed out during our last session, he’d cauterized my finger. Though it throbbed daily, it had not become infected. Tajawls were not prone to such things; our blood burned too hot.
Days had passed since Amon’s last visit and my mind felt clear. I was surer than ever that I could manipulate him into helping me.
“Can’t shit if you don’t eat,” I observed.
The cage lowered with its typical jerking movements. Amon had brought no less guards than usual. If anything, there were more.
“I have a surprise for you,” he said as they shackled me. He seemed excited.
“I like surprises,” I said, though I doubted I’d like his. My cage door opened and the guards backed up.
“Come on.” Amon spun on his heels and marched out. Now that was a surprise.
Glancing at the guards who flanked me, expecting a trick, I took a careful step forward. Nobody stopped me. I took another step.
Behind me yawned the pit. The cavern was so bright with green light now that it felt like daylight all the time. The god’s hooks had burrowed so deep in my mind, I felt sure I’d be ripped in half if I ever sought to extract them. Not that I would.
I’ll be back. Today’s the day.
Kutha said nothing.
I followed Amon into the tight tunnels of the underworld.
“Come on, keep up,” he called back.
The tunnels were so narrow that his guards had to walk in front of and behind me in single file. And here I was, walking freely. If I burned, I might push past them all and escape. But I wondered where Amon brought me.
Also, running seemed unlikely. The muscles of my legs were weak and shaky from lack of use. I now suspected I’d been here a full cycle of the moon. It was too long to stay in fit condition, though I’d tried.
Amon took me upward. I wondered if he might even take me out of the underworld, but no. Our destination was not far.
The door of the cell he stopped before was a thick slab of metal, but it had been twisted and melted beyond repair.
“I thought about your story,” Amon said, a cruel light in his eyes. “You know, about your mommy.”
The hairs on my arms and neck stood up as my rage roared to life. But I didn’t let it show. “I knew you enjoyed it,” I said casually.
“Your mother died in this room. That took a bit to find out. You should thank me.”
“Thank you.” I actually meant it. I peered past the prince into the dark chamber, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“Would you like to go in? I thought you would.”
I shouldn’t go in. He could close the door and trap me here, far from Kutha. I could escape now; once I got in that room, that might change. But then again, the metal door was ruined. I doubted the room could still be locked.
Amon seemed to be thinking the same thing. He ran his hand along the edge of the door. “Could you melt a slab as thick?”
I stepped past him into the room without answering.
“Light,” Amon commanded behind me. He followed me in, a torch in his hand. He held it aloft.
Blackened burn marks changed the color of the stone. Piles of ash littered the floor, still here after all this time. Were they her?
I turned. There was a slab. It must’ve been her bed. White ash coated it. “She died there,” I said. I knew, somehow.
Amon came up behind me. He put his arm around me like we were lovers. “I thought you’d like to see it, Tanead,” he said again.
I was overcome with emotion. Tears pricked my eyes and memories long buried rose up to offer more pain. Even the good memories hurt. But I was still in a cage with a lion. Kutha was still counting on me. Queen Ead would not have wanted her son to let her down.
“It is apropos to torture me in the room where she died,” I admitted. “Shall I place my hand on her ashes so my blood can mix with what’s left of her?”
To my surprise, Amon didn’t laugh. “Oh, I’m not here to torture you, Tanead. We’re friends now, you and me.”
“As a habit, I don’t make friends with people who cut off my fingers.”
“As a habit, I don’t make friends with demons. But here we are. We can help each other.”
I pulled out of the prince’s embrace and turned to face him. This was my moment. “How can you help me?”
“I can release you, of course. Honestly, seems obvious.”
Yes, it did. What was not obvious was why he would do it. I studied Prince Amon’s face. It was eager and hungry. All the languid enjoyment he’d shown in our earlier torture sessions was gone.
It dawned on me, slowly but surely: He already knew Caelan's secret. He’d figured it out. The piece of information I'd thought so valuable was nearly useless…but not quite.
Because he wanted confirmation. He wanted me to speak the words out loud.
"Shall I finish my story, then?" I asked.
Amon licked his lips. “Please. I have a suspicion about how it ends.”
“Of course,” I said evenly. Inside, I was crowing, dancing, jumping for joy.
I’m coming, Kutha, I promised.
“Queen Ead Tajawl was brought here to this dungeon cell.”
“Yes.”
“She died here,” I said.
“Yes. How?”
I met Amon’s eyes. They were so like his father’s. I didn’t hide the rage from my voice. “Giving birth to a son. A fucking bastard your father put in her.”
Amon nodded eagerly. “Caelan.”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?” Prince Amon said.
“I am. I knew as soon as I fought him. He can’t be burnt. After that, I only had to look at him to see. There’s a resemblance, if you didn’t notice.” I held my hand under my chin and posed.
“I did. I fought him and I swear, he looked just like you for a moment, Tajawl. Mad in the eyes. After that, I had only to ask the right questions of the right people. I must say, my father hid his secret well, though I always knew there was something about Caelan that was…wrong.”
“Clever of you,” I said.
Amon shrugged. “You hear things at court. Even a child does. Did you know that the Traitor stormed the palace to try to get Caelan? I heard my father say that, once, but I never knew why. I thought it was because my father loved him more.” Amon laughed at the concept of love.
“Maybe he did. Otherwise, why protect him? Why even keep him?” I’d genuinely wondered.
Amon glowered. “I don’t know. Why doesn’t he have horns?”
“Removed shortly after birth, probably,” I said.
“His eyes aren’t red. They’re not slitted.”
I shrugged. “Halflings are all different. He is my blood and yours. I’m certain.”
Amon considered this. He paced the cell where my mother died. “A prince with Havardian bird-magic and demon fire magic—I can’t imagine anything more dangerous.”
“And a younger brother with more power than you’ll ever possess. That doesn’t help either, does it?” I spoke the truth aloud.
Amon glared. “No, it doesn’t. And my father knows . He knows Caelan's blood is impure.” For a moment he drifted far away. “Why the fuck wouldn’t he kill him when he was born?”
I shrugged.
“Weakness,” Amon spat. “Weakness, no matter the reason. Does Caelan know?”
“I couldn’t tell, though I suspect not.”
“Then when he finds out…and my father…” Amon’s mumbled half-thoughts trailed off. He was lost in his pondering before his attention snapped back to me, his focus sharp. “Tell me about the pit that lies below us. Tell me about the power it contains.”
My blood ran cold at the look on his face. No, this man, of all men, must not be given access to such knowledge.
Tell him everything, Kutha commanded in my mind.
My god, are you sure? He’s a Slayer.
Tell him. The tone brooked no argument.
I shuddered as I obeyed. “Kutha lies below the Palace of the Suns. You probably don’t know your dragon lore, but he was the god who killed your great god, the Father. The Father was called Anu, back then. Anu and the Mother created the other dragons in Anu’s image, to be his children, but he was larger and more powerful than all of them. For untold time, they ruled this world together with men as their servants. But men grew sneaky. They whispered in the ears of the dragons until the young gods changed their allegiance. They attacked Anu and killed him. They even ensured he couldn’t be reborn.”
“You can’t tell a short story, can you?” Amon drawled. But then he asked, “How did they stop his rebirth?”
I shrugged. “Nobody knows. But everybody knows that his spirit fled to the Crust to smolder in anger at the heart of the world. Out of a desire for vengeance, he whispered to Calathan Havard. He offered him altaya magic if he would use it to kill the dragons as they once killed their father."
“And now Kutha, the Father-Slayer, is waking.”
How did the prince know this? Could he sense it as I could? He had no Rider blood in him.
I began to feel scared. There were forces at work here beyond my understanding. Instead of embellishing, I simply nodded.
Amon stared at an empty wall; his mind seemed far away, or not entirely his own. “Your people are coming for you. Did you know that? Of course you didn’t. I didn’t tell you. They attacked the men we sent into Los and forced a retreat back to Archeon. Your dragon is with them.”
My heart raced. “She’s alive?”
“She is. If you hurry, you might catch her that way.”
“Why would you let me go do that?”
Amon’s smile curled. “It serves my purposes. Do you think just because we’re not brothers, we may not work together?”
More prickles raised the hairs on my arms. The stump of my finger throbbed in protest. I did not want to work with this sick fuck. But then again…
“What form might our work take?”
Amon leveled a frank look at me. “I will speak plainly, Prince of Snakes.” He must be either earnest or mocking to use my title. “My ascension is not as secure as I once thought it. My brother is a threat to us both. Do you think the Demonhunter will let your dragon live? Do you think he will treat your people kindly?”
I held up my hand and wiggled the fingers I had left. “But you’re a model of mercy, are you? A demon-lover at heart?”
Amon’s lip curled. He sounded practically offended when he said, “I thought I was very reserved with you, snake. You still have nine fingers and a cock to bring back to your people. You’re right that I have no particular love of demons. But I’m interested in Vaharilar. You stay in your lands—and keep your dragons there with you—and after this is all through, I see no reason why I shouldn’t let you live.”
“I don’t agree. You shouldn’t let me live because I’m a Tajawl. I stand for everything you Havards stand against.”
“I am less interested in being an Havard than my father would like me to be. I am interested in being Emperor Amon IV. Old rivalries and long-over wars are matters of history, to be studied by learned men. Ruling is a matter for today. And today, our goals align, demon.”
“Why should I care if Prince Caelan succeeds your father? He is my brother by blood, and a halfling. Surely a halfling on the throne of Vaharilar could only benefit my people.”
Amon snarled. “I thought you were smart enough to know that a man’s character matters more than his heritage. Caelan will fight all the harder to prove himself the model Havard because of his tainted blood. He will uphold my father’s wishes and the traditions of my house to his dying breath. He will slaughter demons and halflings until the River of Madness froths red. He will kill dragons like he was born to do it, because that is the only way to prove he’s not a demon and a traitor.”
I hesitated, as if considering. In truth, I had no intention of working with anyone in Vaharilar. Amon and Caelan could fucking kill each other. I only needed Amon to think I was on his side so he’d release me.
Almost there, I told Kutha.
You are already free, Kutha answered, sounding utterly at ease. As if he already knew Amon was going to let me walk out of this room.
Amon was still trying to convince me. “You believe Caelan doesn’t know yet who he is and look at what he’s already done. He is known for slaughtering your kind. How much worse will it be when he finally learns what it is he has to prove?”
“Wise words. Surprising, coming from you,” I said.
“So you’ll be my ally when I move against him?”
“If, as you say, my dragons and my people are safe from you. If you betray me—” I leaned forward, grinning, letting a little of that good ol’ Tajawl insanity flood into my slitted eyes, “—I’ll fucking burn you alive.”
Amon grinned. Held out his hand. He actually trusted that I wouldn’t burn him.
For a moment I considered doing it. Just a little—a taste of his own medicine. But I couldn't risk the closure of the open door behind him.
I took Prince Amon’s outstretched hand and met his eyes, man to man. His blue eyes had a little green in them.