Chapter 8 #2
“If anyone else knew how to access the route, the consequences would have been catastrophic. Someone could escape to the outside, inform a Princeps of the way in, and invade Centralis. Given his reputation for overindulging in drink and spilling secrets, Donon apparently didn’t even trust himself with that knowledge.
He didn’t want anyone but the magvis to know the route, and he swore her to secrecy. A magvis cannot break an oath.”
I nodded, but the expression was more automatic than genuine. This was all sounding more like a story than reality, but I wasn’t ready to cut Harthon off.
Then it struck me that Harthon kept saying the magvis was. Not is. As in, the magvis no longer existed. The woman with that voice of pure power and black blood—the one who’d been stabbed before completely disappearing—flashed into view, and I grew still.
“And this brings me to you,” Harthon said, dark eyes fixed on mine.
The pieces clicked together into a horrifying puzzle. “She was the magvis?”
“Assuming you’re referring to the woman who turned your eyes into hers, yes,” Harthon confirmed all too confidently.
“Th-that…no. How do you even know that was her?” The denial sounded weak to my own ears.
That stench, the foul, eye-watering odor that’d invaded the air just before she stumbled into the clearing, was not of this world.
I’d known it then. It only made sense now.
And when that black sludge had poured from her skin and she spoke in that haunting voice—
“Your eyes. The magvis was the only kind of being with purple and violet eyes that bled into gold.” Then, apparently reading my thoughts, he added, “There were other indications, as you know.”
“How would you know? You weren’t there.”
“Koerlyn’s scouts found you after following the magvis for a while. They reported everything to him, and I have ears that reported to me.”
“Why were Koerlyn’s scouts in Second Territory?” Territory borders existed for a reason. Casually crossing them was asking for trouble, and no matter how congenial the relationship was between Koerlyn and Theo, I doubted that was okay.
“Like me, Koerlyn has had men monitoring the Domus, just in case the magvis or anyone else were to come out. Your Princeps in Two doesn’t exactly command respect,” he commented wryly, “so Koerlyn pretends as if those boundaries don’t exist.”
Worry clamped my chest as Harthon’s words sank in. If what he said was true, Koerlyn and his men were far closer to my village than any of us ever thought, and if Koerlyn didn’t respect boundaries, what would stop him from doing to our village what he did to his own?
I needed to get to Merelda and get far, far away from that place as soon as I could.
“Are those scouts the ones who stabbed her?” I asked, trying to quell my rising panic. If Harthon suspected my worries about my home, he’d know how motivated I was to leave and make it that much more difficult to escape.
“I doubt it. Considering the magvis appeared outside of the Domus alone, it seems more like an escape than a vacation supported by Centralis. Somehow, her oath of ownership to the king must have been broken, and I imagine someone inside tried to stop her before she made it to the tunnels.”
I couldn’t blame the magvis for making a run for it. If I was destined to stay isolated in a cell, only to be used for kings’ power-hungry whims, I would also run, no matter my importance.
“So why do I have her eyes?”
“Donon forced the magvis into another oath to ensure the path to the tunnels would never be lost or forgotten. Whether through birthing another magvis or other methods, the magvis was to transfer knowledge of the tunnels to another being before dying. Considering the magvis died just after touching you, it appears that you were that being, Etarla, and your eyes reflect your ability to see the route.”
Disbelief numbed any sort of outburst I should have had. “But I don’t know where the tunnel entrance is.”
“Whether you’re aware of it or not, you do.”
“I don’t,” I repeated. When the magvis changed my eyes, all I saw was light and a glowing pattern of tree roots. Not an entrance, not an exit, not any sort of route. I’d walked away completely unchanged, except for the appearance of my eyes.
But my denial did nothing to deter him because he simply asserted, “As unbelievable as it may sound, you now have the knowledge that can take us into the Domus. It’s buried somewhere in your mind, but it’s there.”
“I do not know how to enter the Domus. Skies, I don’t even know if any of this is true, or if you’re just…just crazy.”
His body tensed. “You know the magvis was real. You saw her with your own eyes. You know that she had to be that being that put up those walls, and you know that she changed your eyes just before vanishing and dying from her wounds. For the rest of it, I have proof. A letter from King Donon’s advisor, Therion. ”
No. There was no way.
I was not the one being in these lands who knew the way into the Domus. I was not the pawn that Harthon or any other Princeps would use to reclaim what Centralis had in order to rule over the Territories.
My chest constricted, and I shot to my feet, agitation turning to fiery anger.
“You’re wrong. I do not know the way into Centralis—but even if I did, I’m not leading you into the Domus.
I am not an instrument for Princepes to use in their games of power.
I am a nobody, and you don’t get to go and make me into a kingmaker. ”
In one fluid, graceful motion, Harthon rose. The fine, ebony clothing molded to his form only made him seem more impassable as he towered over me. He lowered his chin. “Is that an order, Etarla?” The soft question was all sharp edges and spikes.
But the anger boiling within me refused to heed any warning he gave. I steeled my shoulders. “Interpret it however you wish, Harthon. I am simply telling you the truth about who I am and what I will or will not do.”
Ever so slowly, one side of his lips curled.
Finally, awareness began to trickle past the wall of violent emotion.
“While I can appreciate the spirit behind your defiance, you’re wrong.
” He took a small step forward, crowding me, forcing me to crane my neck to meet his churning gaze.
“You do know the route. You’ll see tomorrow, when I show you proof of what you’ve become.
” Those lips widened into a razor-sharp grin.
“And you will lead me into the Domus. While I hope it will be with your willing support, it will happen regardless.”
It was both a threat and a promise from the most formidable Princeps in the Territories.
Dread smothered any remaining flames of anger, leaving me feeling sick.
I wouldn’t have a choice. If what he said was true, I would be responsible for upheaving the current order, potentially making this man into a king. I was only twenty-two, for Domus’ sake. I was no child, but I wasn’t nearly old enough to have a responsibility like this.
Blood drained from my face, and the walls in my periphery fuzzed into a smear of tan. I went hot, then cold, and then a swarm of black spotted my vision as my throat tightened. I blinked hard, but nothing cleared.
“Take a breath.” The low rumble only made the sensations more chaotic.
I was vaguely aware of Harthon stepping in close and grasping my waist before lowering me into the chair. A large hand encircled my nape as I bent forward, fighting the lightheadedness.
“Breathe slowly,” he instructed, lips somewhere by my ear.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I filled my lungs once, then twice, that hand on my neck grounding me. It should have felt threatening, having his fingers touching my throat like that, but it didn’t.
“I just need more food,” I mumbled as the spots abated.
When I slowly straightened, Harthon was kneeling before me, his face pinched in concern.
His hand dropped to the armrest. “Felda will bring you more food,” he said, and I was somewhat surprised he knew the chambermaid’s name.
“For the rest of today, you’ll eat and rest. Tomorrow, I’ll show you that proof. And then, we start to prepare.”
“Prepare?”
“Start your training so you can survive in my world, and figure out which errand will help us the most with uncovering that tunnel route,” he explained, something like anticipation underlying the words.
“I don’t know the route,” I tried one last time.
He simply smiled.
* * *
It was well past midnight when I stood at the window, studying the two guards. Mind rested from a nap and belly full from two hefty meals, I could finally focus. I waited until the guard on the wall walk turned to scan the other side. Carefully, I pushed the window open, wincing at every creak.
A new guard stood outside my room, and based on his older age and the hard lines of his face, he wouldn’t be as easy to work as Stefano.
I never did find out what his punishment was.
The guard in the garden slouched against the wall, unmoving at the slight noises.
Palming the chunk of bread I’d saved from dinner, I wound my arm and threw.
It silently sailed down the three-story drop, shrinking to a speck by the time it landed a few feet from the guard. I squinted, observing his form.
He didn’t move.
He was asleep.
I gingerly closed the window and shuffled back to the bed, trying not to get excited.
All I’d done was confirm that there was an opportunity for me to descend unseen.
But once I did reach the garden, I would have no clue what to do.
Every day I spent here was another day Merelda slept close to Koerlyn’s spies, struggling without me.
But I needed enough information to form a better plan than drop out of the window and figure it out.
Tomorrow, when Harthon showed me this proof, I would glean what knowledge I could. Then I would leave at night.