But I also know that when he fell, others followed.
He is a symbol.
A symbol I can use.
I exhale, sliding the key into the lock.
"If you leave this place, you do not leave quietly," I say softly.
His eyes flash.
"I never do."
The lock clicks.
The first crack in Varkos’s empire is struck.
I do not wait to watch him leave.
I do not stay to see the way he will tear through the palace like a storm unchained.
Because I cannot afford to.
I have already done too much.
When the chaos begins, I will be exactly where I am supposed to be.
As if I had nothing to do with it.
As if I had not just set into motion the beginning of the end.
But before I slip back into the shadows, I do one last thing.
I leave a mark.
A message.
Not for the Matriarch.
Not for the guards.
For Varkos.
A single word, scratched into the stone beside the open cell.
Checkmate.
Then, I disappear.
And the war begins.
31
VARKOS
The first scream is swallowed by the night.
The second is not.