Page 4 of Heart of the Shadow King

Houg nods and unconsciously dabs at the wound on her forehead. “The infirmary is overwhelmed at present. That is all I know; I’ve been unable to get more specific information.”

I grunt, my jaw hardening. “See to it that all those with lesser wounds are moved to other chambers. Prince Sul, for instance.”

“Oh, come now, Vor. Would you really oust your own dear brother from the warmth and comfort of his sickbed? Who knew you were such a ruthless brute?”

I shift my gaze to the far end of the hall. There stands my half-brother. His arm is bound in a sling, his hair a little shaggy around his gray-cast face, but his eyes are brighter than I’ve seen them since we pulled him from the lake at Hoknath. And his grin is as irrepressible as ever, an incongruous sight given the shocks which have so recently shaken our city.

“Don’t lurk in doorways,” I growl and raise one hand to motion him forward. “It’s unbecoming behavior in a prince.”

“Yes, but I’ve never been one for becoming behavior, have I?” Sul pushes away from the doorframe and enters the room, managing to achieve an easy saunter despite his bound-up arm. Chancellor Houg rises and steps back from the throne, inclining her head politely as the prince draws near. He tosses her a wink, and she flushes and ducks her chin.

I lift one eyebrow. “You look as though you’re feeling better.”

He eyes me up and down, his lip curling. “I wish I could return the compliment.”

I shrug, aware of the many cuts and bruises across my face and body. I’ve not yet found opportunity to have my wounds washed and treated. Such paltry needs pale compared to the other duties demanding my attention. Gods, what a gruesome sight I must have been when Faraine opened her eyes on the pool’s edge! It’s a wonder she didn’t die of fright all over again.

“Thank you, Chancellor,” I say, addressing Houg once more. “Your remarkable efforts during this difficult time have not gone unnoticed. See to clearing the infirmary as best you can. And have Ar check that cut of yours while you’re at it.”

My chancellor bows and makes her exit. Sul and I alone remain in the echoing throne room beneath suspendedlorstcrystals, which illuminate the vast space in a pale silver glow. Sul chose his time to make an appearance well—even ten minutes earlier, the chamber was crowded with courtiers, all demanding my attention. They have since dispersed to various tasks, and the stone walls no longer echo with the reverberations of three dozen angry, frightened voices.

Sul does not bother to bow. He sags to a seat on the dais step, resting his one good arm heavily on his upraised knee. His blasé charm melts away, and his expression more closely matches the pallor of his skin: tense, tired. Hopeless. “There are rumors rippling throughout the palace, Vor,” he says, breaking the silence between us at last.

I offer no answer, careful to maintain my impenetrable mask.

“Rumors that you,” he continues, “our mighty king, were seen fleeing the city in the wake of disaster. That you rode your morleth to the surface world, abandoning the rest of us to our fate. And that you carried your human bride with you.” At these last words, he turns to face me. His eyes are like twin chisels, seeking to crack my stone defenses.

“As I am here before you now, you may safely assume I have abandoned neither my city nor my people.”

Sul shrugs and cups his face in his palm. “I also heard rumor your wife died.”

A knife to the gut. I almost reel at the force of it and grip the dragon head carvings of my throne hard to hold myself in place. Because she did die. She died, and I carried her lifeless corpse in my arms. And I begged the gods to give her back, offered them whatever price. A price that must be paid. Somehow, somewhere. Sooner or later.

My jaw hardens. I won’t let regret undermine my resolve. Whatever price the gods demand of me will be worth it. Worth it even just to have a few more hours with her. Should I rise from this throne only to drop dead upon the spot, my life taken as payment for hers, still I would deem the exchange to be in my favor.

But what would my sudden death mean for Faraine? The thought chills me. She would be trapped here in Mythanar. A city on the brink of annihilation. Surrounded by enemies.

“Vor?”

My attention snaps back to my brother’s face, caught in his narrow scrutiny. “So,” he says, his voice poisonously soft. “I take it she didn’t die then.”

I blink once. Then: “She is alive.”

“And what of that other rumor I heard? My spies were most eager to share it. How she was seen standing in the center of the Urzulhar Circle. How waves of strange magic burst out from the stones and across the city, stopping everywogghain its tracks.” He leans toward me, teeth flashing in thelorstlight. “Is that rumor equally groundless?”

My lips thin. “You already knew she was gods-gifted.”

“Yes. But what god bestowed her gift? And for whose benefit?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“Well, if you say so!” He sits back, a huge smile breaking across his face. “What’s next on the agenda then, brother mine? Will you finish up your business here and head back to your royal chambers togrundlethe girl until she splits in two? Should I muster our forces for the journey back to the human world, ready to give our lives in her father’s war?”

He’s trying to bait me. He wants me to let his words get under my skin until I lash back. He wants to provoke my violence and, in the same breath, my shame.

But I answer only, “You may leave my presence, Prince.”

“Oh, may I?” Though his words are flippant, Sul stands at once and backs away, never breaking eye contact. As he retreats, his expression grows more solemn. “Remember, Vor, I am sworn to your service. I vowed on the day of your coronation to serve you at whatever cost.”

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