Chapter 24
“I can hardly…breathe.” Ren clutched at his chest, struggling to get air. Kathryn loosened his clothing, her hands so numb she could hardly undo the sash, her mind spinning.
The room they had been shown to was a full suite with an elegant double bed and gilt engravings on the walls. Kathryn hardly saw the designs, she was so intent on Ren. Vesper stood nearby, saying, “I will send a physician. As one of the Champions, Ren Patrick will have the best of care.”
“What is really wrong with him?” she said abruptly.
Vesper paused at the door, a slow, cold smile spreading across his face. “Do you really not know, my lady?” he said.
Kathryn stood still, her face white. At last she said, “Poison.”
“Naturally. I suppose the King did not appreciate his behavior tonight. I am very sorry for you.” His face belied his words.
She clenched her teeth, digging her fingernails into the palms of her hand until the blood ran down. “I must have an audience with the king,” she said.
Vesper bowed agreement. “I will do what I can to secure you a meeting. I wish you the best.” He left her there, and she slumped into the chair next to the bed and buried her face in her hands, shutting out the sound of desperate gasping for air.
Poison. She should have known. The goblet of wine was no favorable gesture; it was a method to rid the king of his enemies. It wasn’t even particularly subtle, and she cursed herself over and over for failing to recognize it.
“Kathryn.”
She should have known; she should have protected him! How could she-
“Kathryn!”
Ren’s weak voice finally pierced the cloud of self-reproach, and she reached for his hands, whispering, “I’m sorry, Ren. I…you’re going to be all right.”
He smiled at her. “Of course I will. Poison can’t kill me; not after what I’ve been through. And I’d never leave you.” He stroked her hair with a trembling hand. “We need to get away from the king. The poison was meant for you, and he might try again.”
The words thudded into her heart like a handful of arrows. The king couldn’t have known that Ren would offer to drink on her behalf or that she couldn’t handle alcohol. Going to see that evil man was probably the worst choice she could make.
But if it would save Ren’s life…
She smoothed his hair and kissed his forehead. “Rest,” she said. “I’ll arrange our departure.”
He nodded and closed his eyes, biting back a moan of pain. Kathryn hurried to the door with only one thing on her mind. She needed an antidote, and she needed it soon.
Kathryn went to the king’s chambers, but the guards in the hall immediately tried to turn her away. She pushed aside their hands, calling loudly, “King Tarik! My lord, I must see you! It is a matter of national importance to Tephraya.”
The guards hesitated, confused. A voice from within the chamber boomed, “Allow her to enter.”
His chambers were the most ridiculous and extravagant that she had ever seen. There was gold, silk, and heavy fabrics everywhere. Intricate designs covered the bedclothes. The king stood next to the bed with his hair streaming down his shoulders and an expression of mingled disdain and amusement on his face. “National importance?” he remarked. “You are too bold, little woman.”
As the doors closed behind her, Kathryn’s eyes blazed and she said quietly, “I will do what it takes to protect Ren, so tell me, what do you want?”
“From you? What do you think you can give me that I don’t have already?” He laughed at the fury in her face and went on, “Do you think I don’t have enough women? Or do you think that you have something more to provide?”
“Surely you already have a demand in mind, your majesty, unless you are a fool. You initiated this whole mess. I want the antidote, and I will do what I must to get it.”
He took a step towards her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Lady Kathryn, you’re playing a game that is far too dangerous for how clever you are meant to be. Offer me something. Anything. Perhaps you have information on Iridalys that could prove useful.”
If it was possible for any more color to drain from her face, Kathryn was certain she lost it all in that moment. Was it really a choice between Ren’s life and a complete and utter betrayal of her home country?
As she had the thought, her words to Ren rang in her ears: “In this place, we’re not foreigners in a strange land. Remember, this is our new home.” A home? She had no home. Iridalys was no longer her home, and this wretched country was the farthest thing from her home.
“No,” she said out loud. “Ren would never agree, so I can’t.”
“I see. Well, it’s all the same to me. We can’t let him die anyway.” He smiled at her as her hopes rose. “We need his help to fight Aldiyhb.”
Devastated, she retorted, “He won’t help you! I could never convince him, no matter how hard I tried.”
“We have our own ways of convincing people. As a matter of fact, my men are in the process of transferring your man to a place where he can stay until his training is complete.”
Kathryn’s eyes widened. She whirled to rush out the door, but he maintained a firm grip on her shoulders. “Now, now. He’ll be perfectly fine.”
“Let me go!”
“Calm down. They will give him the antidote, and his training will only take a matter of weeks. You’ll see him again soon,” the king reassured her smoothly.
She pulled away from his hands, her eyes sparking like flint. “A matter of weeks? I will see him now!”
“Or what? You’ve placed your last cards, and you don’t have any left.”
A million thoughts raced through her head as she stared at him, her heart racing in pure rage. Suppressing the anger that burned so hot she was afraid she would turn to ash, she curtseyed. “Pardon me for disturbing you, your majesty,” she said in a tight voice.
“Leaving so soon? Very well. I shall send Lord Vesper to you in time to report how your man fares. In the meantime, try not to concern yourself,” the king said with a self-satisfied smirk. Kathryn wished she could blast it off his face, but she didn’t have any opals on her person.
She reached the door and then turned around. “Be careful,” she said softly. “Ren matters to me more than my own life.”
“Empty words, my lady, unless you have some secret plan for revenge that I’m not aware of. If you do, please share it. I might find it amusing.”
Without a word to him, Kathryn tapped on the door. “I wish to leave,” she called loudly. The guards outside must have been waiting for the king’s permission, for they did not open the door.
“Escort Lady Kathryn home,” the king boomed. The doors fell open.
Kathryn swept out past the guards. Tears burned in her eyes and she clenched her fists. She knew there was no point in returning to the room where she’d left Ren. They had undoubtedly moved him already, and she might never see him again. She had her position as a lady, but she didn’t have Ren.
Kathryn waited until she was back at her palace, and then she had a good long cry in her room. After that, she brushed the tears from her eyes and stood up. No more crying. From now on, her only goal was to bring him back.
Chance arrived home rather late that night with a pleased smile on his face, but when he saw Kathryn’s expression, he stopped short. “Where is Ren?” he asked abruptly.
“Chance, I need you to help me with something.” Her face was as white as a Navinorian snowfall, but her eyes were absolutely fierce.
“Name it.”
“Find Brenin. Bring him back here.”
“What? Miss Kathryn, it might not be that easy to catch up with him. Besides, I’m supposed to stay by you. Not only did my king command it, but Ren would want it,” Chance protested.
She took both his hands and looked up at him with pleading eyes that he found impossible to resist. “Chance, Ren is in serious trouble. I’m going to need Brenin’s help to save him, as well as yours. Please. I implore you; help me save Ren.”
Chance’s mouth dropped open. He’d never seen her beg before. Then he closed it hastily before replying, “Well, I’ll do what I can.”
“Do better than that. You’ve been Illian’s spy for a while and you have the skills you need. Find out where he is and bring him back.”
“What if he won’t come? He might not believe me.”
“Just tell him that Ren is in trouble and he will come.”
Chance marveled at how this woman seemed to inspire loyalty and determination in all those around her. He nodded. “All right,” he said. “In the meantime, you take care, Kathryn. There’s no telling what kinds of dangers you may face.”
She watched him go, pressing her lips together tightly.
I’m more worried about what dangers Ren may be facing right now.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
What was that sound?
What was that smell? It hit Ren like a terrible force, completely overpowering his senses. Something was rotting in his near vicinity, filling his nostrils and making his pounding head feel even worse.
He tried to shift; tried to bring up his hand to block the smell, but something restrained his wrists and he heard chains clank. His arms stretched painfully out above his head, and he was knelt there in some kind of liquid. But when he tried to stand up, something grabbed his neck and held him in place. With horror, he realized he couldn’t move more than a couple inches in any direction.
Ren tried to open his eyes to see what was giving off that smell, but he saw only darkness. Then he became aware of the tension of the blindfold against his skin.
“What?” His voice echoed as though he was in a large chamber. Ren struggled briefly, trying to pull free of his chains, but his arms were nearly numb and his shoulders painfully stiff. “Hey! Is anyone there?”
Ren didn’t hear an answer, but what he did hear made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. An unearthly wail pierced the air, fairly close by. More distant screams and howls of rage and anguish flooded the chamber.
Fear clutched at Ren’s heart. He called out more urgently, “Kat? Chance? Brenin? Brenin!” The words echoed off the walls of his prison, but again, no response.
Ren tried to clear his mind and think. What had he been doing last? He was at the celebration meal. He sat across from Kathryn. She was beautiful, and the king was insufferable. Then Tarik offered her wine. Kathryn tried to refuse, but the man insisted. Ren took the wine from her hand and drank it on her behalf. And then…nothing. Everything after that moment was blank.
Ren supposed the wine had been drugged. He should have thought of that, he berated himself. He couldn’t afford to get himself drugged, even to save Kathryn. She had him to protect her if she lost consciousness, but where was she now? No one could protect her while he was like this.
The thought gave him strength, and he began pulling against the chains once again, gasping for breath and struggling. He thought he felt something shift slightly, and maybe there was a tiny bit more slack in the chains securing his wrists. However, further struggles yielded no results. Eventually, he was too exhausted to continue, and he could feel blood trickling down his arms from the wrists he’d rubbed raw.
That was when he recognized the second smell, not quite as strong as the first, but still overpowering. It was blood. Another surge of fear hit him as he realized he had no way out of this horrible, bloody place. Near panic set in, and his heart began to pound and his breath came fast.
Then all at once he remembered. Kathryn would save him. She would come up with a clever plan, and Chance and Brenin would help her go through with it. Everything would be fine.
Ren took a deep breath, regretting it as the smell seemed even stronger. Right now, he needed to conserve his energy and try to think of what to do next. Maybe he could at least remove the blindfold. Then he could look for weaknesses and try to determine how to break out. After all, even though Kathryn would rescue him, he’d prefer to get out of this hellhole on his own, without putting her at risk.
But try as he might, Ren couldn’t remove the blindfold or release himself from his chains. The pain in his shoulders had become unbearable, and he was suddenly aware that he was very thirsty as well.
The hours crawled by. Ren wasn’t sure how long it had been. He also didn’t know how much of that time he spent drifting in and out of consciousness, but at least he felt the strength gradually returning to his body as whatever they’d drugged him with finally began to wear off. Unfortunately, it did him no good. Try as he might, he still couldn’t struggle free of his chains.
Suddenly, a sound interrupted the haze of pain: a slight scraping that his ears could just pick out among the screams and wails. A new smell hit him. It was sweet, like flowers. Or not quite like flowers. There was something more terrible underneath, as though the flowers had died and become rotten. It reminded him of something, or rather someone.
Ren heard a “clank” as his cell door opened. He tried to turn his head, but the movement sent a jolt of pain through his shoulder. A hand touched his face, and he pulled away abruptly. Another shaft of pain.
“Now, now. Don’t be so unfriendly.” The male voice was smooth, well-modulated, almost gentle. But there was an underlying threat that belied the kindness. “Ren Patrick. I hear you are to join us in the fight against the slave rebels.”
Ren struggled to speak. His mouth was so dry that at first he could hardly manage a croak, but he swallowed several times and finally said, “That’s never going to happen, Vesper.”
“Well, you see, that’s why you’re here. You’re not the first champion to have an aversion to your destiny.” Now two hands grabbed Ren’s face, squeezing with an overpowering grip. “But all of them give in sooner or later.”
“Then I guess I’ll be the first to say ‘go jump in a well.’”
“I see you’re going to be a slow learner.” Whoever it was leaned closer, the rotten flower smell becoming even more pungent and overpowering. “That’s all right, though. I have time.”
“Where are my friends?” Ren choked out. “Are they safe?”
“They will be. As long as you behave yourself. Now, let’s start over, shall we? What is your name?”
Genuinely confused, Ren began, “You already know-”
He cried out as something hard and sharp cracked across his back. Then he grit his teeth, holding in the pain as the blow was repeated several more times.
“Now. Let’s try again. I am Lord Vesper. What is your name?”
Ren stubbornly shut his mouth.
A hand slapped him across the face. He could taste blood.
“What is your name?” Vesper said again.
“You already know who I am!”
Another slap. Ren’s head spun and he shrank away from the direction of the slap instinctively. “Fine! I’m Ren Patrick.”
“And who do you serve, Champion Ren Patrick?”
Ren bit his lip, his anger rising. Who did these people think they were? No matter what happened, he wasn’t going to give in to monsters like them. He was strong enough to resist. “I serve Lady Kathryn Prada.”
Vesper laid a hand against his cheek. Ren tried to pull away, but sudden weakness seized his limbs. His head drooped and a horrible feeling began to spread through his body. “Wha-what are you d-doing?” He could hardly get the words out; they froze in his throat, and every inch of his body screamed in agony.
“Ruby magic is unique among the jewels, Ren Patrick, as is our use of it. You have already seen one use, for healing dreadful wounds. Now, you are about to see another use.”
Ruby magic? Ren’s brain reeled as he slumped against the chains. He couldn’t fight against it; it was overwhelming. Tendrils of pain shot across his neck and chest.
I can’t breathe. It hurts…it hurts so much…
“Let us begin your training, Champion.”
Four days after the events at the academy, the heavy rain bore down on Lenore as she stood at the edge of the garden, staring listlessly at the plants that gratefully soaked up the water. Carrie stood at her side, but the young girl couldn’t possibly understand what her mistress was thinking.
“Illian killed David.” The words pounded over and over in Lenore’s brain, and she could hardly fathom the truth of the matter. Her own brother had murdered someone that she had grown up with. She’d always looked up to David, and she knew that Trista practically worshipped him as well. How would Trista feel if she knew the man she loved was a murderer?
Or rather, not a murderer, Lenore corrected herself numbly. He had supposedly killed David for betraying him. But would David really do that?
Lenore tried to imagine what the conversation would sound like if she tried to talk to Illian. Would he be surprised? Furious? Would he try to get rid of her the way he got rid of Kathryn? Before the day Droy told her the truth, she wouldn’t have believed it, but now anything was possible.
“Lenore!” Illian’s voice sent a chill through her, but she turned as naturally as she could. He was walking with Trista on his arm, and Lenore’s fists clenched at her sides.
She kept her voice calm as she said, “What do you want?”
Illian looked puzzled. “I was merely going to ask if you were all right. You have the servants worried, standing out here in the rain like this.”
He took the fur coat off of his own shoulders and put it around hers, smiling at her and briefly putting his hand on her head. “You should go inside,” he said. He turned to leave her there, but Trista reached for her hands.
“Lenore, are you really all right? You look so pale,” she said worriedly.
Lenore tried to think of something to say, but words failed her and she could only shake her head. Illian watched her, and a sudden expression of understanding crossed his face.
“Trista, Carrie, will you give us a moment?” he said softly. Carrie glared at him and didn’t seem to want to comply. Lenore nodded at her, and the two girls reluctantly went inside.
Illian put his hands on Lenore’s shoulders. “Are you still shaken up about what happened at the academy?” he asked gently. “I’ve been trying to find those men, and I can assure you that I will catch them before they can do any more harm to Parr.”
But he was the one who sent them. Lenore struggled to suppress the anger rising in her chest. She pulled away from him, saying sharply, “Are you sure about that?”
“Of course. Lenore, what has gotten into you? You’re acting so strangely.” He seemed calm, but his eyes darkened.
“I know the truth.” Lenore let her anger carry her through the terrifying words. “I know you lied! I know exactly what you did during the war.”
His lips whitened. “You’ll have to be more specific,” he said quietly. The rain beat down on them, and lightning flashed. Thunder rumbled shortly after. The storm was close by.
Gathering all that was left of her courage, Lenore accused, “You killed David.”
Illian didn’t speak. The rain’s splashing was the only sound. Lenore continued, “And even despite that fact, you really thought that you could use Trista the way you have been. You let her fall in love with you!”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lenore hardly recognized the cold, angry man who stood in front of her, and an icy hand squeezed her heart. Her eyes fell instinctively to the sword at his waist.
But when he saw where he was looking, he said exasperatedly, “I’m not going to kill you, Lenore. You’re only a little girl who has no idea what you’re saying. I think you should go back to the academy. I will tell the people at the ball tonight that you were unable to attend due to illness.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about, Illian, and so do you. That’s why you went after Parr; because he was getting too close. Those men work for you, and you have no intention of catching them.” She brushed angrily at her traitorous eyes and glared up at him. “You could have killed him!”
“He was in the way,” Illian snapped.
“Just like Kathryn was in the way?”
For some reason, he looked devastated at the words. His hands dropped to his sides, and he lowered his head. “Kathryn,” he mumbled.
“You sent her away too.”
“Kathryn. Kathryn. It’s always her; it’s always Kathryn!” He raised his head to shout at her, and she retreated a step, her eyes widening. “Kathryn betrayed me! David betrayed me! Parr was working with a man who also betrayed me! Why doesn’t anyone understand that the only things I have done, I do to protect my kingdom? Kathryn’s banishment was necessary. David’s death was necessary! And if I have to, I’ll kill anyone who tries to bring my kingdom down again!”
“And what about Trista?” Lenore countered savagely. “Are you going to kill her? Is she nothing but a tool to be discarded whenever you get tired of using her?”
“Trista is a child who got involved in something she knows nothing about. The sooner she realizes that, the better!”
Neither of them saw Trista standing there around the corner of the greenhouse, her eyes wide and sightless, her hand on her chest. Her heart pounded so loudly that she thought it would burst.
Illian killed her brother. Illian was the man who had taken everything from her.
Images flashed through her mind, of Illian’s tired smile, of his gentle kindness on the night of her birthday. She remembered him killing the man who had come to harm her. She remembered him protecting her and shielding her, dancing with her, eating with her, laughing with her. All these months, she had given him understanding, solace, and love.
He killed David.
A sob escaped her lips before she knew it, and she whirled to run inside.
A hand grasped her wrist, and she shrieked, her overwrought mind giving in to terror. It was Illian standing there, his face full of concern and heartbreak.
Don’t. Don’t look at me that way; you have no right to!
“Let me go,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.
He did, without a single word.
As she ran, she heard him say to Lenore in a tired, grave voice, “I hope you are happy. Go back to the academy. I will come to see you later.”
Then she shut out the voice and every other sound. She went directly to her room, locked herself inside, and collapsed on the bed to weep until she couldn’t weep anymore.
When at last the sobs stilled, she raised her tear-streaked head. She only knew one thing. She had to get out of here and never come back.
She rang for Carrie, who came dancing in cheerfully until she saw her face. Trista grasped her by the shoulders and spoke in a broken, barely comprehensible voice. “Carrie, p-please, I n-need you to pack my things-enough to last until I get home.”
Carrie frowned worriedly. She reached for her notebook, but Trista shook her head, the tears running down her cheeks once more. “Don’t ask me. I need to leave.”
Carrie obeyed, though she was clearly bewildered. Trista couldn’t imagine staying in this terrible place for a second longer. She wanted to get as far away as she possibly could.
It didn’t take long to pack a few traveling outfits and enough to get her home. While Carrie packed, Trista wrote a letter in scrawling, tearstained script. She handed it to Carrie. “I wish I could take you with me,” she whispered. “If you ever have a chance to leave, Carrie, promise me you will take it. If your brother returns, or if you have an opportunity to flee on your own, come find me. Get away from here.”
Carrie snatched up the notebook and wrote rapidly, “Why are you doing this?”
“I will write you letters,” Trista promised. “And when it is safe, I may tell you, but for now, the less you know, the safer you will be.”
“It’s him, isn’t it? The King. He did something to you.”
“Not to me, Carrie. But it is true that I can’t stay here because of him. Just…keep yourself safe.” Trista stroked her cheek softly. “You have been like my little sister. I pray that you may join me one day soon.”
It was time for her to return home.
Loyalty Fallen Hub 