25. Divine Delivery Service
Divine Delivery Service
With the cavernous rotunda lit as if we were standing in the desert sun, the fire opal pulsed in Griffon’s grasp. Dappled light danced along the walls and across shocked faces.
The chamber held its breath.
Or maybe that was just me. I was pretty sure I’d forgotten how to inhale somewhere between ‘we’re about to be executed’ and ‘oh, look, a shiny rock.’
Dark eyes swung in my direction. King Faisal’s gaze locked on mine from across the wreckage of the platform with an intensity that should have made me take another step back.
But what I saw in them wasn’t what I expected. Instead of contempt, I saw a deep, surprised understanding. As if he’d just witnessed the final move in a game he didn’t realize we were still playing. His jaw tensed before he slowing dipped his head in acknowledgement.
The swirling, golden, glitter-filled air shifted at the movement.
He raised his arms as the carnelian brooch at the center of his turban flashed like fire. “People of Solis!” he shouted. Heads turned toward their king. “Witness the will of Helios!”
Shock. Awe. Confusion. Wide eyes bounced around the room, trying to decide if they should cheer or turn and run for their lives.
I could relate.
“For sixty-five sun cycles, we have mourned the loss of the holy relic bestowed upon us by Helios himself. For sixty-five sun cycles, we have prayed for its return…and today, our god has answered.” His voice swelled, filling the domed chamber.
He swept his hand in our general direction as if we were some kind of divine delivery service.
“These two were not enemies, but instruments of divine justice. Sent by the Daystar to expose the false king and restore what was lost!”
What?
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Griffon stood perched on the altarpiece, the fire opal still extended in his grasp. Then, his eyes snapped to mine a split second before he jumped.
The crowd gasped as he landed in a crouch, rolling forward to his feet with the grace of a predator. He didn’t spare the soldiers a glance. Didn’t flinch at the archers still poised on the balcony. He came straight for me, his boots kicking through the scattered embers and stepping over the debris.
Tracking Griffon’s movements with wide eyes, the soldier poised over me with his blade held high stumbled back.
His sword clattered to the platform, raising his hands in surrender.
For only a moment, Griffon’s eyes glared toward his with a look so dangerous, the soldier retreated further, stumbling over debris in his haste.
Griffon’s arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest. His heartbeat thundered as his grip tightened, as if he were holding onto the only solid thing in a world gone mad.
I breathed him in. It was smoke and sweat and something so wild and charged, I thought a storm would crackle at any moment.
With Mali’s hand in his, the king descended from the dais, carefully stepping around the wreckage past the phoenix statue. The golden bird’s wings were spread wide over the destruction.
The king’s plate-armor and curved sword flashed in the light of the lingering fires, the flames dancing across its encrusted gemstones. Mali was radiant in her halo-like crown and armored bodice over a gown embroidered in flames so lifelike they undulated and shifted as she moved.
“You have fulfilled your purpose.” The king glanced toward the fire opal, then back to Griffon. “The debt is paid.”
The headpiece was a smooth fire opal the size of my fist, its light was almost too mesmerizing to look at for long. It was beautiful in that ‘I could probably buy a small kingdom with this and still have enough left over for a nice meal’ kind of way.
Griffon didn’t loosen his hold around my shoulders. “And the execution?”
The king’s lips lifted, not in a smile, but in what looked like satisfaction, as if we were his new favorite miracles. “Helios does not burn his own tools,” he said as if that explained everything. With arms outstretched, he turned to the crowd. “Today, we do not execute. Today, we celebrate!”
The temple erupted in cheers. Griffon exhaled and let his shoulders drop, just enough to betray the weight he’d been carrying.
Overwhelming relief washed over me. Suddenly I felt less like a failure and almost…competent. It was such a strange sensation; I didn’t want to trust it.
Sparrow’s fate and knowing I was capable of causing so much hurt have haunted me for so long.
It could never be undone, but maybe in helping to save Griffon, I had made up for something, even if just a little.
Still far from redeemed, but I would take the small victory, nonetheless.
After all, my standards for personal success had become remarkably flexible.
I turned out of Griffon’s hold to face the king fully, but he kept his arm around my back.
His fingers threaded through my hair and curled around the back of my neck.
It was possessive. Protective. And a little confusing.
I wasn’t sure if he was holding me up or making sure I didn’t run off with the fire opal.
“You’re letting us go,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
King Faisal’s eyes sparkled in the flickering light.
“Who am I to question the will of Helios? Especially when he’s gifted his instruments with such divine abilities.
” His gaze slid to Griffon, heavy with meaning.
“Both of them.” There was a curious look in his eyes, but he didn’t voice his questions.
“And as such,” the king continued, “you have both earned a place of honor in our kingdom. An apartment in the palace and a station befitting your status.”
Griffon’s jaw clenched. He knew a cage when he saw one, even if the bars were gilded and it came with room service. “We’re not staying.”
I elbowed him subtly in the ribs. “What he means,” I said, flashing the king my most diplomatic smile, “is that we’re grateful, but we have…
prior commitments.” There were other things we needed.
Like food. Like supplies. Like not being almost-executed on a regular basis.
“Do you think,” I asked, “as an alternative, we could have horses and supplies to assist us in our journey as we continue to our destination?”
“That is hardly an even exchange,” he replied with a knowing smile.
“We’ll throw in a really shiny rock,” I said, gesturing to the fire opal still clutched in Griffon’s hand.
The king’s eyes widened slightly before the corner of his mouth lifted.
Mali dipped her head, but her eyes remained sharp. “The Festival of Light is just beginning,” she said smoothly. “Join us today as our honored guests. And tomorrow, you will have whatever supplies you request.”
I glanced at Griffon. His face was stony and unreadable. Typical. The man had exactly two expressions: brooding and slightly-less-brooding. And right now, he was firmly in the former category.
The king read Griffon’s reaction for what it was. Griffon was the type of man that trusted about as far as he could throw a mountain.
“You have my word,” the king said, bowing his head.
Griffon studied the king for a long moment, his sharp eyes traveling over the king’s face as if he were searching for the lie. Finally, he nodded sharply and handed him the relic.
The king held it cupped in his palms for a moment, reveling in its brilliance. Then he turned toward the crowd and lifted it over his head. “Let the feasting begin!”
The crowd roared. The drums pounded.
And in the chaos of celebration, Griffon leaned in, his breath hot against my ear.
“Well,” he murmured, “that could’ve gone worse.”
A huff of laughter escaped me at his unexpected humor. Then I stilled as his lips accidentally brushed my hairline.
I blinked…and was suddenly unsure if it had been an accident.