Page 46 of The Last of the Dark Lords

"He is alive, but I do not know how long it will be before he wakes. He has to rebuild the vitality that he lost. He was on the edge of death."

Manod gazed down at Cyrus' face. It was so peaceful now, and his lips called to me. If Manod had not been there, I would have kissed him. I desperately wanted to feel the warmth in him, to let him know that I was there with him, to assure myself he was still alive.

"Will he survive?" I asked, hating the question.

"I don’t know." Manod's face was a contradiction of hope and fear. "He is young and strong, but his connection with the artifact was powerful. He used it often. It's hard to say what the severing cost him."

"If he…when he wakes, will he still be Lord of Ashfuror?"

Manod's lips tightened. "As of this moment, he is not a Lord of Fyr. Your bond with the crown means that Stahkla has chosen you to be Lord of Ashfuror."

I shook my head. “The people here don’t even know who I am.”

“If he wishes to rule by your side, there are…other possibilities.”

My brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"His father conquered the other Lords, and he kept their crowns. They are locked away in the vault. Cyrus could decide to bind with another, if Stahkla would have him. And if he chose to do so."

"You think he might not?"

"The cost of wearing the crown is high. It grows more so the more often you use it. And Cyrus may no longer wish to rule. He was made Lord of Ashfuror as a teenager. I don't know..."

I glanced down on my husband, conjuring an image of his body and his spirit knitting themselves back together, willing it into existence. "He deserves a rest."

"He does. I don’t know what his choice will be. He cares deeply for his people." Manod stepped away from the bed. "It doesn’t matter right now. He has a long recovery before him. You should come. You need food. I will prepare you for your role as Lord."

I shook my head. "Have them bring dinner here. I’m staying with him."

“Lord, you now sit in a seat of power. You have responsibilities—”

“They will hold for a day or two. You have my blessing to deal with any small crises that arise.”

Manod opened his mouth to argue, then shut it. He closed his eyes, taking in a breath and letting it out. When he opened them, his face had softened. "Very well. I can buy you forty-eight hours before people start to question you and Cyrus’ absence.”

Manod left the room, and I pulled up the desk chair. I took Cyrus' hand, visualizing my own life energy passing into him. If that had been the price, I would have paid it gladly. Instead, though, I was left with the crown and the rule of Fyr. I pushed the thought out of my head. Right now, my duty was to Cyrus. I needed to focus on him. If I embroiled myself in the day-to-day doings of the government, all of my time would be stolen away by that.

So I sat by him, holding his hand and hoping. I had hoped Cyrus might wake again in an hour, or a day, but I was quickly disabused of that notion. After twenty-four hours, there was no discernible change. Manod assured me that it was a good sign that hadn’t gotten worse, and I clung to that hope tightly.

The hours ran into each other, and with nothing to focus on, my brain went to thoughts of Greatfalls and of Grandmother. Had she known Cyrus would die? Despite my wish to trust her, to think that this was all accidental, I couldn’t be naïve. She had allowed my brother to raid and kill with impunity. Who knew what other crimes he had committed? I doubted she had even tried to guide him away from it.

If I was to believe Manod, she’d sent my parents to murder Cyrus in cold blood. To assassinate a child. It was unfathomable to me. No matter what she thought the benefits were, I couldn't wrap my head around it.

The more the hours passed, the more my mind focused on her. Was she truly so different from the person I thought I knew? In some ways, it was easier to accept that my parents were heartless assassins. I had almost no memories of them. But my grandmother had raised me. She was kind and she cared about her people. She loved me.

Toward the end of day two, Manod stopped by once again. His pace was slow and his face, haggard. He once again put his palm on Cyrus’ forehead.

“No sign of change?” he asked.

“No,” I replied. “What’s happened? You look as though you haven’t slept.”

“That’s because I haven’t.” He lifted his hand from Cyrus and a tiny tremor ran through it. “The drought had already brought everything to a breaking point before now, and Cyrus had been working non-stop to hold it all together. With him incapacitated…I can only stand in for him for so long before people begin to question, and I don’t have his stamina. Truth be told, his pace was unsustainable. We need a solution. There is talk of rebellion in some of the worst hit areas. For now, it’s only talk, but…”

He fell silent, lost in his own thoughts. My own mind was racing. I was now Lord of Ashfuror, and I was a member of the Prime family of Greatfalls. The lies and deceit could be left in the past if we could forge a peace under our one family. And as a token of that peace, Grandmother could let the water flow. Not enough to endanger the city, but surely there was enough available to alleviate some of the suffering.

The solution was in Greatfalls, and I had to go there.

Cyrus moaned in his sleep. He didn't wake up or open his eyes, but he made a sound and squeezed my hand. Manod’s eyebrows shot up at the sound.

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