25. Chapter Twenty-Five
The throne room has a rotting stench that a heavy cinnamon incense attempts to cover up. I almost turn around, but Zyon sees me and shoots off his throne to my side.
He kisses my hand and pulls me into something that should probably be avoided. “I’ve brought you the best present.”
“It doesn’t smell as though you have.”
He sniffs, and his nose twitches. “Oh, that will be gone soon.”
He yanks me forward against my gut, which is reeling from the stench. It’s a warning to something I know I don’t want to see, and as we get closer to the throne, it’s confirmed when he raises the lights.
I gasp and tug my hand from his. “How is a severed head a present for me?”
“Look closer.”
Against my better judgment, I inspect the wide, dark eyes and gaping mouth.
There’s no peace in the expression like most I’ve seen in death, and it appears the person was brutally tortured before death.
The skin is grey to green and bloated, but I’d seen posters with sketches of the man’s face many times.
I’d stared at the posters and ripped them to shreds in my rage.
“You killed the man who killed my father! Maybe I wanted to be the one who did that.”
“Oh, did you? I can bring his head back to life and let you drive a knife through his skull. It will hurt him adequately to gain some satisfaction.” He pulls a fancy silver blade from his belt, turns the brown handle toward me, and snaps the fingers on his free hand.
The head animates into a horrific scream. “Help me!”
My nose twitches at the putrid pleading head. “No, I don’t want to go near that. My point was you did not ask me how I wanted revenge, and I don’t like morbid presents.”
“I can see in your eyes that you wanted him dead.”
“I can’t condone you killing.”
“Executed.” He drives the knife into the skull, and the mouth quiets. “I did not kill. I executed. As king, I killed someone who murdered in my kingdom.”
“You just believed me? No trial for the man.”
“Did you lie?”
“No, he killed my father. I know because I saw him do it.”
“Then do you wish me not to believe you?”
I fling my hand toward the skull. “It’s a little late to ask that now.”
“You can just say thank you.”
I close my eyes and sigh. “Fine. Thank you.” I crinkle my nose. “Can you take that far away, please?”
He snaps his fingers, and three large cow guards rush in and remove the head at his command.
As I watch what’s left of my father’s murderer leave the room, I feel an uncomfortable satisfaction.
For months, I longed for my father to find justice, and maybe it didn’t matter how that happened.
Zyon had the right to determine punishment in his kingdom.
The King of Thieves stole my father’s life, and his became forfeit.
This is justice, so I let go of my unease and hope my father can finally find peace.
“Now for the last surprise of the day,” Zyon says.
My shoulders sag, and I yawn. “All I want is to go to bed. No more surprises.”
His eyes shift. “Lucky for you this is in your room.”
“What did you do to my room? Please tell me there are no dead people in it.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“I have no more enemies, so who could it possibly be?”
“It is not an enemy if that helps.”
I bolt for my room, bumping into servants and mumbling apologies. My chest burns as I wheeze, but I don’t stop running until I make it up all the steps to my room. My hand trembles as I slowly turn the knob and pull the door open.
I open my mouth to say something, only to stop when a white cat with strange eyes plops to the floor from the top of my wardrobe. “You got me a cat.”
“Not just any cat.”
“Neera?” the cat says in a hauntingly familiar voice. She says my name three more times before my mind can process enough for rage to take over.
I launch myself at Zyon and beat on his chest. “You turned my best friend into a cat!”
He grabs my wrists and blinks. “You’re very confusing. I thought you wanted your best friend back.”
“Yes! As my best friend! A human. Not a cat! How could you do this to her!”
“Lazzus suggested this would make you happy." He stares at the floor for a minute.
"When did you speak with Lazzus?"
"A few weeks ago, but I'd been busy with other things until now."
"Well, he was wrong about this one! You don't go turning people into animals!"
"I am sorry, but her human body was too damaged. You said she loved cats, so it seemed the best option. If you’re that displeased, I can expel a villager from their body and move her soul inside instead.
I would have done that, but it seemed you’d find killing someone else to save her as wrong.
” He releases my wrist when I knee him in the groin.
“Do not kill or resurrect anyone else for me!” I shove him out of the room and sink against the door to cry.
He knocks on the door. “Neera.”
“Leave me alone, Zyon!”
I check my bag, throw a few more things in it, and pull Gulzar from the flowerpot he’s playing in.
The maids take him from me, and I rush outside to find Lazzus.
I’m determined to make my way up the mountain as soon as I possibly can and forget about the king.
I'm not thrilled the monster put the idea in Zyon's head, but I need answers from the wraith before it's too late.
Lazzus is on his hill, so I return to my original plan of going over the wall.
I grab a ladder from one of the sheds and carry it over to a part of the wall I never see the guards, extending its height as far as it will stretch.
The days I spent watching how they operated gives me an advantage in making it over unseen.
I can just reach the top, and it takes a lot of effort to pull myself over.
I keep low as I pull the ladder up and rest it on top of the wall.
It slides nicely against the other side, and I dangle off the edge, stretching my foot out to touch it.
It’s then I realize it’s angled a little more than when I climbed up, because of the distance I need to stretch my foot much lower.
You’re too high up. Too high up. Climb back up! Climb. Climb. Climb.
“Here I thought you’d left.”
Not smart! Climb!
I hang onto the side with one hand and lower the opposite foot toward the ladder but can’t quite touch the highest rung. My fingers slip, and I miss grabbing the ladder as I plummet to the rocky ground several stories below.
I land in firm arms that extend beyond a cloak. They appear as smoke and not as though they should have any solid form to hold me.
"Have you lost all sense?" Rage barrels from Lazzus. "You could die from that height! Then where would we all be? I told you to stay away from the edge of high places. That's one thing you need to listen to me on."
I wiggle to break free. "It was the only option you gave me by ignoring me for weeks."
Lazzus sets me on the ground. “It’s unwise to climb over walls that large if you can’t fly.” He lifts his body off the ground to show off.
“Thank you for saving me. Yes, this was not the most dignified thing I’ve ever done, but it accomplished what I wanted, which was talking to you.”
“You put yourself in danger to talk to me. Don't do that again, Neera." His head glances up, like he's looking at the top of the wall. "Listen to me on this!"
“It had to happen because I owe you an apology. What I said to you was harsh and unfair. I’m sorry, and I don’t say that just because I want to hear the rest of your story, though I do.”
“I see.” His voice softens, but his hood is still tilted back like he can't take his eyes off the wall. “There is no need for you to apologize.” He holds up his hand when I insist. “Everything you said was accurate. My existence causes pain everywhere I go. It caused pain to Evelia and my kingdom in terrible ways, and it is no one’s fault but my own.”
“No, it was wrong of me to say that. Cruel even.”
“Not when it's true. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m the villain in the story I’m telling you.
The one who spread terror and oppression to thousands all while I believed I was the hero instead.
Everything I did, I excused away as necessary when it only brought destruction.
You telling me the truth is nothing you should feel guilt for.
” He vanishes and appears over on his hill.
I trudge through the snow until I make it next to him. The ground around him is green with small purple flowers growing around the black rock he sits on. It’s a small haven of spring amidst the tundra.
I sit down and pluck one of the tiny flowers to sniff it. “I didn’t climb over the wall for a brief conversation.”
“It’s more like you fell over the wall." The anger creeps back into his tone, like he's clenching his teeth with each word. "Value yourself more."
“Yes, I get it and will avoid that in the future, but I didn’t go to all that trouble to speak with you for two minutes, and whether you think I owe you an apology or not, I do, and you must be upset with me if you won’t tell me your story.”
“No, it was more that I wondered if telling you the story would cause more harm than good.”
“How so?”
He shrugs and places his palm on the rock beneath him. “You’re one of the first potential curse breakers whom I’ve told my story to.”
“You don’t do this every time?”
“No, it's something I started only the last few. I altered certain things to give the woman a better chance of breaking it, but it always went wrong. Each time the woman would die, so before I faded into sleep about seven cycles ago, I went and saw an old friend. She suggested I tell the next woman exactly what was at stake. That knowing about me would build trust. She believed it might help, but I’m not so sure.
There are certain things I'm not allowed to say and couldn't say even if I wanted to. All I can do is tell you my past the best I can.”
“It’s painful for you to relive everything.”
“Yes.” His palm becomes solid as he runs it over the rock.
“Then I have been selfish, wanting to know the rest of your story. We don’t have to continue.”