Page 78 of Draekora

“None!”

“None, I tell you!” Aven all but screamed, stirring the crowd. “They offer us nothing we don’t already have—nothing we will ever need. And yet, my father”—his expression turned grim—“yourking, is determined that we give them the best of our wares. We trade Myrox for manure, weapons for wax and advanced education for the clinking of seashells tied around leather strings. We give everything and receivenothing. And I for one have had enough!” Chest heaving, Aven vehemently bellowed, “I will no longer stand by and allow our proud race to yield to an infestation of mortal vermin!”

The shouts of agreement around the room were just as passionate as those of their leader.

“It may be early days,” Aven went on, “but it’s up to us to take a stand. If we can gather enough voices to our side, the king will have no choice but to consider our words. And if he doesn’t—”

A gloved hand suddenly latched around Alex’s waist and a second slapped over her mouth, forcefully yanking her from the room and Aven’s horrifyingly captivating speech.

Her cries for help were muted by the taste of her assailant’s leathery glove as she was pulled through the dimly lit tavern and into the balmy night air. Even her best attempts at breaking free of the impenetrable grip holding her were useless.

Just as Alex was about to call out for Xira’s aid, she was hauled into a shadowy alleyway where her abductor swiftly released her. She stumbled away, drawing her hands up in a defensive position as she turned back to face the cloaked figure.

“Who the hell are you and what do you want with me?” she demanded in terse Meyarin.

The figure threw back his hood and stepped into the moonlight.

“Roka?” Alex gasped out, reverting to the common tongue. “You scared the crap out of me!”

“By all the stars in the sky, what in the name of the light do you think you’re doing here, Aeylia?” Roka asked, looking aghast to see her.

“Me?” Alex cried, her voice pitched high. “What aboutyou?”

Roka glanced around the cobblestoned street and reached for her again, pulling her closer. “Come. We’ll talk back at the palace. It’s not safe here.”

They rode theValispathin silence until it delivered them directly outside Roka’s sitting room. It was, to Alex’s distracted eye, styled similarly to how it looked in the future.

Tearing off his cloak, Roka threw it onto his desk, sending writing implements and parchment flying. He began pacing like a caged animal, his agitation palpable in the loud silence.

“What’s goingon, Roka? What were you doing out there? How did you know about that meeting?”

“My brother’s exploits aren’t as quiet as he would like others to believe,” Roka responded, still pacing. “And not all of his followers are as fanatically devoted as he claims. I—and they— have been keeping an eye on him all week, ever since he began this asinine crusade against humankind.”

“You’ve been watching him?” Alex asked, surprised.

“Of course I have,” Roka said, in a tone that implied her question was ridiculous. “If our father hears of the insurrection Aven is stirring, he’ll lose his royal mind. I need to make sure I understand what my foolish brother is planning ahead of time so I can put a stop to it.”

Looking at the agitated prince, Alex felt a wave of sadness. “You really do love him, don’t you?”

“He’s my brother, Aeylia,” Roka said. “And his rebellious side will cost him our father’s respect if he doesn’t soon come to his senses. As long as it’s within my power, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my family together. Even if that means I have to sneak around and eavesdrop on his supposedly secret meetings.”

Alex let that sink in, not sure how she felt about the fact that while Roka was determined to save Aven from Astophe’s ire, he’d yet to mention anything about his brother’s actual anti-mortal cause.

“Forgive me for pointing this out,” Alex said carefully, eyeing Roka’s restless movements across the room, “but judging by the tracks you’re making, it looks like you’re worried about more than Aven’s deteriorating relationship with your father.”

Roka’s steps stuttered to a halt as he paused, almost as if he only just noticed his agitated footsteps. Running a hand through his uncharacteristically dishevelled hair, he released a long, weary breath and collapsed into one of his cushy chairs.

“What’s on your mind?” Alex asked quietly, taking the seat opposite him.

Roka swallowed thickly and, in a voice almost too low for Alex to hear, he said, “What if he’s right?”

Alex felt the ground shift out from underneath her. “What?”

“About the mortals,” Roka went on, as if not having heard Alex’s whispered exclamation. “What if he’s right and Father is wrong? If nothing else, Aven’s words are true—wearegiving them more than they give us. The trade agreement is an insult to everything we are, yet my father believes it’s our responsibility to assist those lesser than ourselves. I thought I agreed with him, but I can’t deny that Aven’s cause holds merit. I almost feel as if I should step in and appeal to our father alongside him, offering a united front in his stance against mortals.”

Feeling sick to her stomach at the idea of Roka—good, kind, compassionate Roka—feeling anything negative towards mortals, Alex barely managed to get her next words through her horrified lips. “You can’t seriously think it’s okay to kill humans, can you?”

Roka jerked backwards at her words. “Kill them? What are you talking about?”

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