Page 17 of Prince of the Phantom Sky

Kora’s ears pricked and her lips curved. She’d barely survived a week in this hell, yet somehow Erick was thriving. Garvan stepped back, allowing two meek looking guards to shuffle in, holding a metal tray each. Disappointment weighed heavy that neither of them were Ivar. They donned the original Talmon Empire uniform, with their lances abandoned, propped against the railing of the spiral walkway. Kora shifted, ready to pounce for the weapons.

The two guards sneered at Erick, spitting at his blackened feet, before dropping the trays onto the floor. Cups of water rattled, and Kora’s throat burned, her organs screaming for it. The secondary tray had a singular bowl of gruel, and three stale sea-biscuits. Her gaze darted between the water and weapons, her mind warring between the two.

“Filthy traitor,” one guard leered at Erick, whilst the other taunted Agatha, poking her shoulder. She cringed away, hiding behind Erick as he raised a protective arm, shielding her. He caught Kora peeking over the den, noticing her stare sliding to Garvan, and he ever-so-slightly shook his head.

An imperceptible no.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Garvan huffed, slamming the door shut after the guards, before sauntering away. “Your vacation will be over soon.”

Erick collected the trays, carrying them over to the den and Agatha promptly followed, her chin raised defiantly as Kora helped her sit back down.

“Here, have mine.” Erick offered Kora two cups of water, and she paused, glancing to his body, realising why he was covered in bruises and a small ember of anger ignited. Despite maintaining his muscular frame, she could tell his strength was waning. “I’ll be fine, I can survive a day without water.”

“What have they been doing to you?” Kora whispered, as she held the cups of water in her hands. The cool metal jolted her skin, and she stared down at the ripples of liquid in almost disbelief.

“What the empire does best,” Agatha replied, and sipped her water. “Destroying everything that you are.”

Erick’s jaw ticked. “They see me as a rebel now, a Galen sympathiser.”

The fire wrenching Kora’s body became too much, and she gulped a cup of water in one mouthful, beads of liquid dribbling from her lips. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand with a moan, as it blissfully quenched her throat.

Erick’s face pinched as Kora grabbed the second cup. “Take it easy and sip it. There won’t be any more until tomorrow.”

She faltered, irritation flashing at his paternal manner. She wasn’t sure if she could ever accept him back into her life, whether as a friend, or her adoptive father. The betrayal ran too deep, and although she could trust him within the confines of a cell, where survival was paramount in the heart of the enemy, she wasn’t sure if she could trust Erick out there.

“Isn’t that what you are now, a rebel? Haven’t you switched sides?” Kora croaked, her vocal cords rubbing together, and she took another sip, relishing it.

Silence pulsed, Erick’s stare flattening as he gauged her. “Kora, I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to explain how sorry I am for what I did. I betrayed you, I hurt you and I lied to you. And I have spent my life trying to repent for what I took from you, and I will continue to until the day I die. I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve to even be here with you. But please, know that I will never stop protecting you.”

“Erick . . .” His eyes teared at her tone, the lowering of her gaze. “I . . . I don’t know if we can be the same as before. Even if you wish to choose the right path now, it doesn’t change the past.”

Erick’s eyes shuttered, his lips pressing together as his chin wobbled. Kora’s resolve wavered. He had never cried in front of her, ever. But gods, this was crushing her soul enough to wish to take back her words.

“I just needed you to know that,” he replied sombrely. “It’s not about which side is right. It’s about a future for all.”

“I’ve tried countless times,” Agatha chittered, her white gaze staring at nothing. “He doesn’t believe in the rebellion.”

“What?” Kora frowned. “How? Barron is murdering innocents. He’s campaigning across the islands right now and rounding up humans for slaughter.”

“And you think the rebels are any better? They killed Eleanore. They killed my baby.”

Silence fell upon the group, and Kora took another sip of water, unable to hold back. “I’m truly sorry for what happened. It’s honestly awful, I can’t even imagine . . . nothing I can say will . . .” Kora inhaled a shaky breath. “Do you not think that allowing Barron to continue is the same injustice? You could prevent others from losing their families, their children. Spare them from suffering.”

“I agree, Kora. I do. But how do we know these rebels won’t seize that chance at power? And return the same level of violence, in the name of justice, or revenge. They already did once.” Erick prodded a sea biscuit, slowly tearing it apart.

Kora shut her eyes, squeezing out the torment wrapping around her mind. It was all too much. So much death, so much destruction. Years of history repeating itself. Gods, Erick might be right, the rebels had targeted attacks on civilians before.

“That’s not true,” Agatha said. “The rebels have been led by the Skytors for decades. They honour the values of freedom, of equal rights. They’ve protected mages from the Azarian laws and kept the lower-districts as safe as possible from the empire. I refuse to believe they would mass-murder on a whim for information.”

“She’s also right,” Kora added. “I found the Skytors in Aldara. They had a safe space for mages. They tried to rescue me from Blake.”

And she’d killed them in the desert. The punch still gutted her, her actions haunting her like ghostly chains dragging her down.

“They’re self-serving,” Erick argued. “They worked for me, Kora. They only want money, and that is all.”

Agatha scoffed. “This man knows nothing more than the end of his sword.”

“A shopkeeper isn’t experienced in politics. You know nothing of the world outside of your store,” Erick snapped.