Last Stand (The Black Mage #4)(32)

What kind of person was willing to sacrifice the one person they loved?

I am not Blayne. My hands locked to fists. Blayne was much more than his abusive father. His motive was still war, greed, and control.

My motive was everyone else.

I couldn’t give in now. This wasn’t about my guilty conscience or the villain in the room or the boy who would shatter when it all came to light.

To be the hero, I had to be the villain… I wondered if, at some point, the tyrant before me had considered himself the same.

I wanted an answer.

I wanted the gods to reach out and tell me the path to take. I wanted them to tell me why it had to be me, him, and his brother. I wanted to know why this was our story instead of another’s.

I prayed to the gods that night.

They never answered.



*

Over breakfast the next morning, Darren was granted permission to question the palace staff. Blayne made it clear he viewed the practice a waste of his Black Mage’s time, but he’d relented all the same.

The catch, of course, was that Mira would take part in his discourse and lead the supposed investigation. “Since she already interrogated all of our staff, she will be invaluable in your search.”

I suspected the gesture was in large part due to other secrets the king didn’t want to come to light by questioning the servants who were involved in his nefarious dealings. They hid bits and pieces of information that could point out inconsistencies in his tales and might lead the Black Mage to question the past, which was just what I needed to collect.

Meanwhile, I’d been granted a temporary elevation in the palace regiment, serving Mira’s role until she and the prince were done with their false hunt.

I couldn’t have asked for better fortune if I tried. Mira was busy trailing Darren across the palace, and that left me free to roam the remainder, relatively unwatched. If anyone asked, I was checking up on the rest of the guard, the same as Mira was known to do when she was leading the role. Blayne even gave me an approving nod on the third night when he asked what I thought of the palace patrols.

I made it a point to praise the changes in place, insisting there was no way a rebel could ever breach their new defense. That part was true. The regiment had taken on stricter measures and the men were held to a higher standard after Derrick. Shifts were shorter. Previous patrols containing one guard had been replaced with two. More mages had been transferred in from the Crown’s Army.

Now there were just as many Combat mages as knights. Soldiers previously serving the courtyard guard had been transferred out so that mages could take their place. Not one of the new recruits had less than ten years serving major ports or cities across Jerar.

Every single member of the palace’s reformed regiment was the best of their year.

All of the changes would have made any commander proud. The castle was a fortified stronghold. I hadn’t paid attention after the incident with Derrick, but I noticed now. Darren and Mira had been busy while I was holed up in mourning, and I was struck by how fortunate the rebels were that I had come across the truth after all. The castle would be impossible to access now.

Not without an all-out war. And though the rebels’ number was far greater than the rest of the country believed, it still wasn’t enough. We had three thousand or so north, thanks to the keep and some of the soldiers serving bordering villages, and a couple hundred hidden among the main outposts of the south. Even with the backing of six thousand from the Caltothian army, our number was still a far cry from the twenty thousand of the Crown’s Army, the fifteen hundred of the King’s Regiment, and all the major city regiments. The rebels were mostly made up of lowborn soldiers, which meant they were severely lacking in mages and knights, something the Crown was not.

I just need to find proof. But every stone I turned came up clean. As that first week drew to a close, the panic set in. There were six more days before we set forth to Langli to greet the Pythian warships, and I needed something of value. I needed to find it now. Nyx’s words played over and over as the hours ticked by: “The Pythians might not be swayed by justice. Promise them whatever it takes.”

What could I promise that Blayne could not? The only thing I had to offer was evidence of his deceit, and the chance of finding such proof was growing slim.

That wasn’t my only concern.

At any moment, Darren’s investigations would draw to a close and Mira’s shrewd gaze would fall back to me. Then I’d be stuck guarding the Council chambers with another where any deviation would be reported back to the one person who would jump at the chance to try me for the same crimes as my brother.

My careful searches grew increasingly frantic. I stopped caring which explanation to offer when someone asked. I was the head mage of the regiment for the time being, and I was ready to abuse that power for all it was worth. I’d inspected every surface lining the Crown and Council chambers, every scroll tucked into place, every cushion left unturned, every nook and cranny in most of the castle storerooms.

By the tenth day, I had breached most chambers, save the king’s quarters and the palace barracks, the latter of which was never empty enough to escape notice, and the former required an explanation I could not offer.

I continued to circle back to the Crown hall at the end of each long day. A part of me had known it would always come back to this, that anything I needed would be in the king’s quarters. I doubted Blayne was fool enough to hide incriminating evidence among his men.