Page 32 of Lost Kingdom


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“He’s always surrounded by his own guards—guards that even I don’t command. There’s been no way to kill him without taking the coward’s route and poisoning him or creating an ‘accident.’ No, I want to be there as my knife sinks into his chest, to watch him suffer like my parents did. So, I’m waiting for the right moment. Until then, I have to keep up my reputation as Thrailkull’s cold-blooded lackey, especially to win the respect of the guards.” He rubbed his forehead. “It can be exhausting.”

I didn’t feel sorry for him. I felt sorry that he hadn’t killed Thrailkull sooner, because then maybe Malengard would have fallen, and Hen and I would never have been brought here.

“I have a feeling you and I aren’t that different,” he said.

I flinched. I was nothing like him.

“Wouldn’t you do the same if someone hurt your family?” he continued, studying me.

Yes. For Hen. For my brother. For the tribe I’d lost. For the parents I couldn’t remember. I knew I’d do anything for them.

Maybe Bloodbain and I weren’t that different after all.

No, I chided myself,he’s a Rathalan.

When I didn’t respond, he didn’t press me. “Let’s get some sleep.”

My stomach tightened, terrified of what that meant for me.

He removed his outer armor layers along with the small arsenal of weapons he kept on his person. Then he opened the door to hand his weapons to the guards, ruining my plan to steal any of them. He gave me a pointed look as the two guards tramped through the room, collecting all the candlesticks—including the one I was still holding.

When the door was slammed shut, the room went quiet again.

Without a word, the commander pulled a blanket from the bed and arranged it on the floor before stretching out to sleep.

I didn’t take my eyes off him, for fear his chivalrous act would abruptly end at any moment. Like the young guard in the mine who’d protected me from Meat one night only to threaten me with a whip the next. Bloodbain might seem different from the other Rathalans in this moment, but I knew better. He wanted something; I just didn’t know what it was. But I had a feeling my life was only guaranteed to extend until the moment he got it.

When I was certain Bloodbain was asleep, I crept to the far corner of the room and slid down out of sight in the dark, wrapping my arms around my knees to keep warm. Unlike the mines flooded with groans and sobs, my new windowless prison was eerily quiet.

I felt for the nail in my shoe, forgetting it was long gone.Keep this with you as a reminder you are strong.

I’m not strong, I wanted to tell Hen.I can’t do this without you.

Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as the vision of Hen on the platform replayed over and over like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. A sob welled up in my throat, making my collar pinch tighter. Hen was gone. Sora was trapped. And I was a prisoner.

My chest shook violently as I held the sob inside, too afraid of waking the commander to make a sound. How long before I followed Hen to the shadowlands? All those never-ending days in the mines of praying our backs didn’t break and that the guards overlooked us. All that time focusing on nothing but survival—and for what?

We’d been ghosts all along.

Would my brother mourn my death? Or had he already? The moment I’d been given a scrap of hope to find him, it had been ripped away. Just like everything else. My magic. My family. My freedom.Hen.

This time a sob escaped my throat. I pressed my hands against my damp face to muffle the sound as my body shook.I gasped for breath until the dying firelight drained from the room. Then I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the burning ache in my chest to suffocate me, so that tomorrow, I might wake up beside Hen again.

12

Jeddak

Averee led the way to a small tavern tucked away along the western avenue. There were a few tables set up outside around a large stone fire pit. I would have preferred to talk in the darkness of the alley or at least somewhere away from other people, but I didn’t want to risk arguing with her at this point.

We found a seat by the crackling fire. From above, the full moon’s round face watched us. The clock had begun ticking down the final hours until the new moon.

“Keep your hood up and cloak closed, and no one will notice you,” she said, eyeing the two other patrons sitting close by, both of whom looked either half-drunk or half-asleep.

She ordered hot currant tea, and I ordered a mulled mead. A large one. Averee raised an eyebrow.

“It’s been a long week,” I mumbled, already planning to order a second one before I’d taken the first sip.

“So, what’s going on, Jeddak? Why did you pay a Magi to make you look likethat?” Averee said, studying me with her piercing sea-green eyes.

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