Энтони Райан - Queen of Fire

She gave a nervous smile. “His daughter died at Marbellis. I gave her back to him.”

Gifted, I realised, glancing back at the gaoler and gaining a new appreciation for his sense of duty. All those years with the Hopekiller in his grasp and he never sought vengeance.

“It wonʼt last,” Jervia said, tugging at my sleeve.

She led me through Raulenʼs meagre quarters and into the only slightly more ornate north wing of the palace; a series of storerooms and living quarters where the army of Imperial servants slept. We encountered only two guards, all wearing the same expression of focused delusion as Raulen. I saw Jervia wipe her cuff across her face as we moved on, noting the dark smear of blood on her skin and wondering how much strain she endured to facilitate this escape.

We stole through the courtyard in a crouch, though the pair of guards on the northern gate showed no sign of having noticed our passing. “We must hurry,” Jervia said, making for the grassland beyond the road. “The illusions will fade soon.”

“The road…” I began but she shook her head.

“Too well guarded, my lord. I have a rope placed on the cliff, and a boat waiting on the river.”

“I…” Fornella gasped, coming to halt, features sagging in the scant moonlight. “I canʼt.”

“Itʼs not far…”

“Leave me,” she groaned, doubling over and sinking to her knees, drawing air into her lungs in ragged heaves.

“My lord!” Jervia implored.

I leaned down, putting a hand around Fornella shoulders, frowning at the sight of her face, eyes alert with warning and free of fatigue. “Itʼs him,” she breathed. “The Messenger. I know his stink.”

I straightened, meeting Jerviaʼs gaze, seeing only a scared young woman forced to a courageous act. “A moment please,” I said. “She grows older by the day.”

Jervia gave a reluctant nod, eyes darting about constantly for any sign of pursuit.

“Tell me,” I said. “What threats did the Empress make to coerce your testimony?”

Her face showed a pained grimace. “Father was arrested on charges of treason. It happened when word began to reach us of what had transpired in the Unified Realm.”

“She knew my return would be imminent, and prepared her trap accordingly.”

“I expect so.”

“And that ridiculous story about the sword?”

“Invented by Lord Velsus, at the Empressʼs behest. I had no choice, my lord.”

“Of course.” I squeezed Fornellaʼs shoulder and moved away, keeping a distance from our rescuer. “I have known Lord Velsus for close to twenty years,” I said. “Heʼs an arrogant, self-regarding, judgemental bully. But heʼs never been a liar, as I expect he lacks the imagination for deceit.”

She said nothing, but I saw how her eyes narrowed and her hand reached into the fold of her dress.

“You played your part very well,” I said, continuing to move away from Fornella, Jervia pivoting to match my every step, the muscles of her forearm bunching at she gripped something tight. “So reluctant and contrite, bound to win my trust when you came to open my cell door. When did it happen? Was it when the Red Hand took you?”

Her eyes flicked to Fornella, now groaning as her grey head lolled forward, then turning back to me with a different face. It was as if she had contrived some magicianʼs trick, switching the face of a sweet, brave maiden for something altogether older, its malice plain in every coarsened line and the twisted sneer of her lips. “When last we met you were not so courageous,” she said, Jerviaʼs well-spoken vowels moulded into something harsher, and familiar.

“Courage?” I gave a very soft laugh. “I find courage is just another of lifeʼs illusions. In the end, we all do what we must.”

“Very profound. And true. For tonight you must walk off a cliff, having effected an escape by use of foul magics, no doubt learned from your friends in the north. Perhaps it was guilt that made you do it, or it could have been a final act of defiance. A refusal to allow the Empress just recompense for all your dreadful deeds. Iʼm sure scholars will ponder the question for years to come.”

“Donʼt you ever grow tired of this? All these years spent in murder and cruelty? Donʼt you want to be more than a slave to a monster?”

“Slave?” The crooked bow of her lips parted in a laugh. “He did not enslave me. These many years in his service have never been a punishment. Every life taken, every seed of chaos sown, my just reward, for this world deserves all the havoc I can wreak upon it. With you gone to your deserved end the Empressʼs gaze will inevitably turn north, where the Unified Realm lies barren of much of its strength as their queen pursues her mad vendetta across the ocean. Why do you think she gathers her fleet?”

“Spurred to do so by more of your lies, I assume?”

“She finds much wisdom in my counsel, and in time, so will her brat. Iʼve just about convinced her the practice of choosing an heir from among the populace is an archaic, even unwise tradition. Who better to rule than a child born to those who know the burdens of power? A child born to an Empress and a Hope no less.”

I took an involuntary step towards her, fists bunching in fury. “That boy is not for you.”

Her hand came free of her dress, the knife it held glittering in the moonlight as she dropped to a crouch, forcing me to stop. “That boy will complete the ruin of the Unified Realm and go on to conquer the Volarian Empire,” she said. “His children will build a mighty fleet to carry Alpiran civilisation to all corners of the world. Is that not a prospect to rejoice at, my lord? Your lover certainly did.”

I took another forward step and she lunged, the blade flashing just close enough to force me back. “Youʼre a liar!” I raged.

She laughed, shrill and delighted. “He was such a clever fellow. So well-read, and fascinated by the opportunities offered by those with singular gifts. We didnʼt corrupt him, Verniers. We didnʼt seduce him. He came to us, but, as ever, Al Sornaʼs blade contrived to complicate our plans.”

I charged at her, my rage dispelling all reason, uncaring of the knife. She danced aside, lithe and quick as any dancer. “If you donʼt believe me,” she said, spinning to a stop and gesturing towards the cliff-top. “Why not ask him?”

I was about to lunge for her again but stopped as something shimmered into view in the blackness beyond the cliff, something that flared into blinding white fire for a moment before swirling into a familiar form.

I stood frozen, my eyes playing over his face, all thought fleeing my mind save one. “Seliesen.”

He stood there, smiling the smile I knew so well, clad in the simple robes he preferred to wear in private, the robes in fact he had been wearing the last time I saw him. It would be preferable, and dishonest, to record that I had no inkling this was an illusion, that I was completely deluded and my reason undone by the wicked precision of the Messengerʼs stolen gift. But, I knew this to be a phantom, I knew I was being lured to my death as I rushed towards the cliff-top calling his name. And I simply didnʼt care.

He vanished as I came to within a foot of the edge, flickering like a candle-flame caught in the wind before being snuffed. I shouted in grief and bitter defeat, sinking to my knees and calling out into the uncaring dark. The only reply was the soft hiss of the wind through the grass.