Inkmistress (Of Fire and Stars 0.5)(71)
In spite of an hour of checking all the places I thought I might find Hal, and enlisting the brief help of a page, I wasn’t able to find him. I spent the night barely able to sleep in my comfortable bed even after a warm bath. In the morning I knocked on Hal’s door, but if he was there, he didn’t answer. I didn’t get any more time to look, thanks to being chased down by two palace servants sent to do my hair and provide appropriate clothing while my travel garments were laundered.
I didn’t see Hal until a page gathered us both to meet with the king.
On our way we walked in awkward silence, hardly looking at each other. An extension of the red marble in the great hall led us all the way from the atrium through a set of gilded doors to the dais where the king’s throne sat, flanked by a heavily padded chair in which his chief adviser rested, an old woman introduced to us as High Councillor Raisa.
The king’s robe swept the floor, the exact color of the blood-splashed stone. He was a man of medium build with iron-gray hair and pale eyes almost the same shade. His guards hovered nearby like twin shadows. One bore two long knives tucked in her belt, the other a short sword. Between the two athletic guards, the king appeared rather unremarkable. I don’t know what I had expected, but it wasn’t this. He didn’t look like someone who held the power of all Six Gods at his fingertips. I could sense the second soul in him, but not any indication of the gods’ magic.
In contrast, even without sinking fully into my Sight, so much power radiated from High Councillor Raisa that it was almost impossible for me to look away. A few wispy strands of white hair escaped from beneath the hood of her robe, which was lined with thick fur in spite of the mild temperature. Her eyes were clouded over and milky, almost a pale violet, with no pupil showing at all. She had to be blind, but she still seemed to know exactly where Hal and I stood. It had to be the Sight. Like me, she could sense the magic all around, and she didn’t need her eyes to do it. I wished I had my shadow cloak instead of the floor-length dress I now wore.
Hal and I both fell to one knee in front of them and bowed our heads.
“Rise,” said the king. We stood up, Hal letting me brace myself on him with my uninjured arm.
The king’s gaze landed on Hal, and he smiled. “Ah. Phaldon. Welcome back. I don’t suppose your sister is likely to follow your example?”
Hal stared at the floor. “I imagine not, Your Majesty.”
“A pity. She’s missed around here—there was so much more good we could have done for the kingdom together. I miss her voice on the council.”
My eyes widened in surprise. After everything I’d heard, I had expected the man to be vicious. Brutal. Uncompromising. Instead he was soft-spoken and welcoming. Regretful that he’d lost Nismae—not vengeful like she was.
Hal didn’t say anything, but his jaw clenched. I had to redirect the conversation away from Nismae before it could turn antagonistic.
“Your Majesty, we are here to warn you that you are in danger,” I said.
The king sat back, seemingly unperturbed by this news. “Who are you, and what leads you to believe that?”
“I am Asra of Amalska, Your Majesty,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows. “We were not aware anyone had survived the double massacre there.”
“I’m not the only one.” I took a deep breath. Yet again I would have to detail my failures and be judged. Worse, I had to do it in front of Hal, which was somehow more terrible than confessing to the king alone. I could already anticipate the emptiness that would come when Hal’s affection for me slipped away as he understood that I was responsible for even more death than Ina. He knew about my gift, but he didn’t know how many I’d killed using it.
I told the king my story from the very beginning—how it had all started when I’d tried to help Ina, how our village had been destroyed, how Ina’s manifest had been born solely for revenge. He listened as I spoke of my confession to her, and how it had done nothing to slow her mad quest to kill him.
At that point, the king held up a hand to stop me. “Anyone who challenges me will die. No one can hope to defeat me without the backing of a god, and from what you describe, your dragon friend does not even have a gods-blessed manifest. I am the one who wields their power. Even if by some miracle she did manage to kill me, it would destroy all of Zumorda. She’d have nothing left to rule.”
Shock kept me silent and frozen as Raisa nodded in slow agreement.
Nothing left to rule? That couldn’t mean what it sounded like. My knees went weak.
“What do you mean, Your Majesty?” I asked.
“The bond with a god that allows a challenger to take on the reigning monarch is the same one that gives the winner the power to rule the land when all Six Gods grace him with their power. It is that power which gives me the ability to conjure fire out of air.” The king raised his hand and a column of white flame roared from floor to ceiling, far more powerful than the ones Ina had produced in Orzai.
I grabbed Hal’s hand, needing his solidity to help stand my ground.
“It is the power that allows me to call storms.” The king raised his other hand and a rumble of thunder sounded overhead.
“It gives me the ability to bring forth anything I want.” He opened his palms and a gray dove fluttered into the throne room, desperately seeking some way out.
“It gives me control over life and death itself.” With a gesture from the king, the dove fell to the floor and then a sprout burst out of the dead bird’s open mouth, leaves unfurling in search of sunlight.