Page 27
“Do you mean Ryn?”
“Whose Ryn?”
Xerxes shook his head. “I mean Commander Adassah. The Gold Maiden,” he said, rubbing his temple. Ryn had too many names.
“Ah.” Norkin nodded. “Yes, her—Commander Adassah.” He angled his head and shook a hand through his light hair. His scarlet robe was all wrinkled from sleep. “You really might kill Alecsander if she can’t escape this place?” Norkin’s pale blue eyes turned doubtful. “You know the consequences will be absolutely torturous—”
“Don’t remind me.” Xerxes turned away for a moment, studying the rock wall. He poked at a hard wedge of dirt between two stones. “Truthfully, you won’t recognize me anymore if I have to do it. If I’m lucky, they’ll hunt me through this palace like a beast and give me a swift end.” Xerxes flexed his hand, imagining it turning gray and damp while an all-consuming hunger filled his belly for pears he’d never find again.
“Wait, so you want me to—” Norkin cleared his throat “—first, save your maiden or something, second, help your maiden escape, and possibly third, kill the King of the great empire of B’rei Mira?” A loud sigh filled the cell. “Easy.” Norkin’s sarcasm was too lighthearted to be cruel, but his feelings were clear. “Do you think I’m some god or Hema Bird?”
Xerxes dropped his hand. “Then tell me about the Tribute at least. My hero is about to go into the Outer Rings, so tell me how she can survive them… and win against B’rei Mira’s best,” he said.
Norkin created an absurd facial expression. “Is this a joke? I don’t know how to win a Tribute. I’d jump off a cliff before competing in one of those.”
“But you’ve been in the Outer Rings,” Xerxes objected, jutting his thumb in the general direction. “Many times, from what I hear.”
“Well, that’s different. No one was competing to kill me when I was down there. I was just looking for a way out.” Norkin shrugged and picked at his nails.
One of the other royal hostages began singing down the hall. Xerxes chewed on his bottom lip as the off-tune song fell to a hum. “Did you find one? A way out?” he asked.
A grin split Norkin’s face. “I did. I think.” He folded his arms, his red toga tightening over his pale chest.
“Where is it?” Xerxes asked.
“It’s right past the snake.”
Xerxes forgot how to speak for several seconds. He thought of the giant stone snake statue in the Throne Room, his stomach turning as he pictured it coming alive.
Norkin rubbed his eyes, leaving his skin patchy and red, eyelashes all stuck together. He yawned as if he hadn’t just given Xerxes spirit-crushing news. Then he sneezed. “Ugh. Why are these cells so damp?”
“So that Ring Cobra rumour is true?” Xerxes’s voice came out coarse when he found it. “Divinities, Prince Mansour wasn’t lying about that story he told of Prince Emad?”
“Unfortunately.” Norkin’s throat bobbed when he swallowed. He sank back to a sitting position and picked up a notched stone. “Prince Mansour lies about many things to frighten people he doesn’t like. He’s notorious for using his enemies’ fears against them to get what he wants. But he’s not lying about what happened to Prince Emad.”
Xerxes glanced toward the door, wondering if his chances of getting caught out of his cell would be less if he just went back now and fell asleep. What a fool he was for having hope, even if it was just for a moment.
So, Xerxes would face Alecsander in a deathmatch after all. Because he’d die before sending Ryn to be mutilated by a horrifying snake god just for a chance at escape. After seven months of battle, Xerxes would find out if his old gods were stronger than Alecsander’s foreign ones. But really, this encounter had been years in the making. It began the day Alecsander had made a deal with King Draco to have Xerxes marry a B’rei Mira spy.
Norkin wriggled another stone out of a hole gouged into the wall, solving the mystery of where he got his tossing stones from. “But the Gold Maiden is here,” he said, and Xerxes frowned. “She killed a giant, right?” Norkin’s light eyes flickered up to Xerxes. “Prince Emad told me so back when it happened.”
Xerxes’s jaw slid to the side. He remembered being in the strategy tent the day he got the news that Commander Adassah of Burn Division Twelve had slain a giant. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying she can kill the Ring Cobra. And we can get through the Outer Rings into the capital city. I’ve never made it that far, and I imagine Pyriwell will be dreadful to navigate, but we stand a decent chance at making it to the desert once we’re past the Rings.”
A sigh left Xerxes’s lips, echoing around the cell as he thought about Ryn wrestling with her god on the balcony. He started pacing, dragging a hand down his face, toes kicking away jagged pebbles. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, aware of Norkin watching it all.
He imagined Ryn entering the Tribute without the strength of El Tsebaoth, his heart twisting as it dawned on him. “I’m going to have to go in there with her, aren’t I?”
Norkin blinked dully once, twice. Then his gaze widened, his chin lifting. “Wait… you’re not talking about the Tribute, are you?”
Xerxes put his hands on his hips, his head dropping forward and inflaming his sore neck. This was normally the moment his temper flared up. He should be blaming Ryn for this, but after seeing her on the brink of tears at the thought of losing him, he supposed he had no interest in scolding his maiden anymore for coming here and putting him through this.
He didn’t know how to wield the power of a god like hers. He didn’t even really know Ryn’s god. But he couldn’t sit by and watch this hunt for his maiden from a Divinities-forsaken chair.
“What do I have to do to get Alecsander angry enough to release me from the Museum and place me in this horrid competition?”
Norkin’s mouth hung wide open. He stared with that ridiculous face until finally, he said, “Are you out of your mind, Xerxes?” All the pebbles slipped from his fingers and clattered over the floor.
