Page 101 of The Horned King

"And what is that?" I ask, furious at him for thinking he knows so much better than me.

"That your country hired Shan to make sure you die in exchange for the crown."

"Why would they do that?" I ask. "Why not just attack if they're so bloodthirsty for war?"

"They don't want a war they won't win, Elva. And they cannot win without the rest of the countries behind them," he explains. "The witches won't fight no matter what, war being the one atrocity they won't participate in. But Tirriel, Farhan, and Maren would have no choice."

The truth settles in my chest like a stone. "The perfect martyr, you said." He nods, somber, as he searches my face for more rebuttals. "We don't know that for sure," I whisper, searching for any reason not to believe him.

"Of course," he agrees, placating me. "Let's solve this thing, and then we'll have answers. Perhaps I'm wrong."

"I don't even know where to start," I confess. "I've never had to decipher a fucking code before."

He chuckles. "That's alright. I have. Many times. I was a warrior before a king, remember?"

"Right."

He jots down a few common words he sees to narrow it down, separating the letters from the rest: the, and, is, and, will, in, leaving:

F W L H A E H N N I I U G G I N R A L S D K I O E T S I L P S W A R A O M V Y E H R R F A S T D I

"War," I point at the only obvious word, pretending to be helpful.

"And half? Half of what?"

"Is that last word Fastid?" I ask, my heart dropping.

"Must be," he mirrors my fear. One kingdom plotting to kill you is enough to fear, but two? Those are impossible odds.

"How could King Colm be in on something like this and me not know?" I ask, considering all the time we've spent together over the last weeks, with no hint of betrayal or anything negative at all, really, aside from his blatant misogyny.

"If your country is aware of your abilities, which I'm sure you needed to disclose for your position," I nod, answering his unasked question, "then they probably warned him to keep his mind clear of any treachery when you were around. Or spelled him to forget, like Shan."

Every answer only leads to more mysteries. "Who is capable of those kinds of spells?"

He shrugs, jotting down the word over, followed by the world split.

"Rhyma," I say, spotting my own country's name spelled backward.

Silently, he writes it next to the other words we've deciphered. Followed immediately by Oksangui.

W H E N G I R L D I E S

"When girl dies," I say aloud, the truth I've tried to deny becoming plain right before my eyes. "Not if. When."

"I am sorry Elva," Kairon tells me. "If it's any consolation, I've been hoping for weeks I was wrong."

"It's not," I scoff. "When the girl dies, and war is over, Fastid and Rhyma will split Oksangui in half."

Kairon runs his hands through his hair. "Why would Shan be involved in a scheme for Fastid and Rhyma that destroys our kingdom? He wouldn't gain anything from dissolving Oksangui."

"And what about the fucking Syrens?" I dig my fingers into my eyes, leaving this puzzle with more questions than answers. "Why would they go along with it?"

"I've no clue, my Elva. But I have some terrible news for you." He sighs dramatically.

I groan. "What else?"

He leans in close, whispering in my ear and making me break out in goosebumps, "Your plots for vengeance against me are just going to have to wait until we demolish our mutual enemies."

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