The Great Hunt (Eurona Duology, #1)(81)

“Why?” Wyneth rasped, her shoulders curling in. “Why would you make this thing? Do have any idea what your experiment has done?”

“Oh, yes. Our experiment has shown that my people still hold power, even when others tried to take it from us.”

Aerity moved lithely, glancing at her cousin between movements. Wyneth shook her head, horrified, trembling in terror. “Who are you?”

“These hands,” the woman mused, not answering. “They look feeble to you, no?”

Wyneth shook her head, took a step backward.

“Do not move,” the woman snapped. “I don’t need my beast to kill you. My own hands can do that easily enough.” So the woman was Lashed. And insane.

Aerity’s mouth was dry. Her heart was wildly skipping beats, and her mind could hardly process what she was hearing. She had to act fast. With hesitation, Aerity looked down toward the guard, a sense of vertigo temporarily dazing her. This was higher than she’d ever climbed. Finally her senses righted and her eyes bypassed the guard’s mutilated torso, locking on the bow sticking out from under his back, the arrows that had half slid from their quiver.

Aerity needed to get to that bow, but she’d have to get past the woman.

“Who are you?” Wyneth repeated.

“Ah, yes. Soon, everyone will know. Now that I have you for bargaining power. I am Rozaria Rocato.”

Rocato? As in the Rocato? Aerity’s hand slipped, and she gripped the beam hard, wobbling. Slivers of wood fell as she flattened herself downward. She swore she saw Wyneth’s eyes go up, but her gaze dropped just as quickly.

“R-Rocato?” Wyneth gave a tiny sound of surprise from the back of her throat.

“You fear the name Rocato, do you?” asked the woman. “As you should. I am the granddaughter of Rodolpho Rocato, the greatest Lashed to ever live.”

No. Wyneth gave a strangled gasp. Aerity wanted to stay still and listen, but she had to move. She arrived at a junction in the middle of the ceiling. A vertical beam stood in her path. Aerity rose, flat-footed with her toes splayed for balance. She had to crouch so as not to hit her head on the ceiling. She brought her arms around the beam and wound her leg around it until she felt the horizontal beam on the other side. Carefully, she slid her body around, shifting her weight.

The woman’s voice filled with dark glee. “Our blood is not diluted. The past five generations of our family have all been Lashed. My great-grandfather helped all the people in his town, and they showered him with gifts. That is how it was meant to be—symbiotic. My great-grandfather was overjoyed when his only son was called upon to be a healer of the royals.”

Again, Aerity lowered to her hands and knees to crawl. She wasn’t too far from the ropes now.

“If your great-grandfather and grandfather were so well and happy”—Wyneth licked her lips—“then why did Rocato kill the king? You speak of him like a hero. He was a murderer.”

“No! The government of Kalor was corrupt. Your books lie. The old king wanted to use the Lasheds’ power for his own gain, like work mules. He wanted to tax villagers who were helped by the Lashed. His plan was to own us, to make us his slaves.”

Aerity’s mind whirred. Was her father aware that Rocato had a son and granddaughter? Surely if those in charge of the kingdoms knew, they would have taken his family into custody all those years ago. Rocato had been captured and put to death after he killed so many people and rallied a civil war of Lashed against Unlashed.

“I didn’t know,” Wyneth said quietly. “But as awful as that was, Rocato killed everyone who stood in his path. Surely you can see that was wrong as well?”

“My grandfather was . . . passionate. Justice requires sacrifices.”

“Don’t speak to me of sacrifice,” Wyneth ground out, her voice getting stronger. Her shaky hands turned into fists and she glared from the woman to the creature sleeping at her side. “Your idea of justice was to kill the man I loved! I watched it happen!”

The woman sighed. “What you must understand, royal one, is that Unlashed men, with their fear and greed, are the root of evil in Eurona.”

“Breckon was not evil. He was a good man. You’re nothing but a murderer, just like your grandfather!”

Don’t make her angry! Aerity tensed, waiting for the woman to attack, but the woman remained unnervingly calm. Aerity was close to the pulley now. She hoped it wasn’t rotted.

“You have been sheltered from the truth. You cannot possibly understand the cost of civility. When the scales of a civilization have been so severely uneven, they must tip in the opposite direction in order to eventually right the weight again. For over one hundred years the Lashed have suffered. Now the Unlashed must suffer. They must gain understanding and respect the hard way. Only then can the scales be even once again. I will make clear to everyone in Eurona the things my grandfather failed to teach.”

Wyneth shook her head. “No. No. Not like this. They were all innocent people.” Her voice cracked as she shouted. “How can you do this?! How can you create such suffering? This is madness. Why did you come here? Why did you bring your hate to Lochlanach?”

The woman chuckled. “The hate is already here. And I chose Lochlanach because your king is soft where other kings are harsh.”

“Our king is honorable,” Wyneth insisted with passion.