Resistance (Ilyon Chronicles Book 1) (59 page)

A large door loomed ahead, and nausea turned his stomach. They entered the emperor’s office, and he set eyes on Daican for the first time. He’d never met him face to face. The closest had been the day they brought Kyrin to the square. A lot of good those memories did to calm his unease, but they kept the fight burning inside him. His hands warmed as he took stock of the emperor. He could probably take him, given the chance. But the guards would never allow the opportunity. He’d get a sword to the throat first.

The men stepped away and left Kaden standing in the center of the room. Daican approached him.

“Kaden Altair,” he
said, his voice smooth, pleasant even, giving Kaden a firsthand look at the mask he so skillfully employed with Kyrin. But Kaden had already seen behind the mask—what it hid.

“
Your Majesty,” he replied cautiously as he fought the impulse to speak what was really on his mind. It left a horrible taste in his mouth, but if he didn’t proceed with extreme caution, his fate truly would be sealed.

Daican’s gaze bored straight into him and said far more than his relaxed expression. “I’m sure you’re wondering about this meeting.”

“It’s not every day one of us is summoned from Tarvin Hall.”

“No,” Daican agreed. He clasped his hands behind his back. “I thought you should be one of the first to know the status on your sister.”

Kaden’s chest constricted. Had she been caught? If so, he would fight to the death to free her, guards or no guards.
Please, let her be safe
.

“I’ve received word on where she might be hiding,” Daican continued, and Kaden let out his breath as slow as he could to hide his relief. “One of my captains has a man in custody who might be the one harboring her. It’s only a matter of time before we discover her location.”

The emperor measured his reaction without so much as a blink. Despite the intense scrutiny, Kaden kept a straight face. He’d gotten good at that.

“What do you think of this news?” Daican pressed.

The question was a snare—one of dozens Kaden could fall into. Maybe he was in one already, and it just hadn’t closed on him yet. He shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Indeed,” Daican murmured. He paced a couple of steps before facing Kaden again. “You two were close, were you not? You are twins, after all.”

“Yes, but I can’t change the way things are or what’s happened.”

Again, Kaden received the full intensity of Daican’s stare that was determined to wrench the truth out of him one way or another. Well, he’d have to try a lot harder.

“I’m told you share some of your sister’s skills—that you, too, are good at reading people.”

Suspicion clawed the edges of Kaden’s mind. “I’m pretty good.”

With a sweeping look, Daican said, “It’s a shame. Your sister was quite valuable before she turned on my kindness and generosity.” He paused to wait for a reaction Kaden never provided. “So, tell me, Kaden, how do
you
read me?”

A dangerous question that was. But he wouldn’t pander to the emperor. “I don’t believe you’re as kind and generous as you make yourself out to be. I think it’s something you use, when it suits you.”

A smile curved Daican’s lips, but a cold, hard glimmer appeared in his eyes. “And you don’t like me very much, do you?”

Kaden’s jaw tightened, and the hot coals that had smoldered since Kyrin’s near execution seared his insides. His restraint slipped a little. “What do you expect after I saw my sister humiliated, injured, and made out to be a criminal?”

Daican seemed almost amused by the heat in his voice. He stepped closer, eye to eye with Kaden. The fact that Kaden was taller was nothing compared to Daican’s confidence in the power he held. “The question is, will you serve me? Will you take your sister’s place here at Auréa?”

So that was his game—to replace Kyrin with the next best thing. But could Kaden do it? Could he keep up this perilous charade with so many deaths around him, some of which he may even cause by serving the emperor? The act was hard enough to maintain back at Tarvin Hall. Yet, what was the alternative? At least this still left him with the possibility of escape. He had to try.

“I’ll do what I must,” he answered even as it sickened him inside.

“A wise answer,” Daican replied. The cruel smile resurfaced. “But, of course, it will have to be tested.” He inclined his head toward the doors. “Let’s take a walk to the temple, shall we?”

Kaden’s heart sputtered. Of course, it could never end any other way. It was foolish of him to think otherwise. He breathed harder, heat reclaiming his chest, and drew himself up taller. “Don’t bother. I refuse to bow to any but King Elôm, the one true God of Ilyon.”

Kaden winced as he struggled to draw in a breath past his throbbing ribs. He coughed, and pain ripped through his chest. Fog swirled in his brain, disjointing his thoughts, but he hadn’t given Sam up. He knew that much for sure, and it offered a comforting satisfaction amidst the pain.

“Put him in this one,” Aric’s voice echoed ahead of him.

Kaden raised his head with effort as the guards pushed him into a dungeon cell. No longer supported by them, his knees buckled and hit the stone hard. The cell door clanked shut, the grating shriek tearing through his pounding skull. He glanced around the area, though one eye was almost swollen shut. In the wavering torchlight, his gaze caught on a man in the cell beside his. He blinked.

“Trev?”

The name barely made it past his lips, but the other man looked at him, his face a bruised and bloodied mess. Trev glanced out of the cell at Aric just before the guards all turned and marched away. The light faded with them. In the darkness, Kaden crawled to the back of the cell and leaned against the wall where he breathed out a cross between a sigh and a groan. The bullies at Tarvin Hall never beat him up quite this badly. He gingerly wiped his sleeve across the blood dripping from his chin and spit some out of his mouth. The thick tang coated his throat, and he longed for water to wash it down.

“Daican finally went after you too?” Trev’s hoarse voice filled the empty space.

“Yeah.”

The other man’s long sigh rasped in Kaden’s ears. Kaden looked in his direction, though pitch-blackness hid everything. “How did you end up down here?”

“I helped Kyrin escape.”

This sent a shock through Kaden’s sore muscles. Sam never told him who helped Kyrin out of the dungeon.

“The investigation was heating up,” Trev explained. “I didn’t want them digging any deeper, so I turned myself in.”

Kaden breathed slowly in and out, his lungs hitching at every stab of pain through his ribs. “Thank you for helping her.” It was little consolation for being down here, but it meant everything to him.

“I was glad to do it,” Trev replied without regret. He moved farther back in his own cell with a grunt and sucked in his breath. Finally, he settled.

“How long have you been down here?” Kaden asked.

“A few days. A week, maybe. It’s impossible to say.” He shifted again. “They’ve been working on me to find out who helped Kyrin once she was outside the palace.”

Kaden rested his head back. How many times had Trev faced the same sort of interrogation he just had, and yet remained unbroken? “They wanted to know if I knew anything…and who told me and Kyrin about Elôm.” He paused. “So, you believe in Elôm too?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose we’ll both be executed in the square then.”

“I expect so,” Trev said with a tone of resignation. “Just as soon as they realize we won’t talk.”

Kaden put his arm around his ribs and tried to draw a deeper breath. The darkness was almost suffocating, and his pulse elevated. It must be a little of the same claustrophobia Kyrin suffered from so often. If so, he’d have to get used to it quickly. No telling how long he and Trev would sit here before meeting their fate.

Icy water crashed into Trask’s face and jolted him cruelly into a painful consciousness. He sputtered and choked, and then groaned when he tried to move. Every single muscle screamed in agony. Blinking for clarity, he tipped his head up. Goler stood over him.

“What do you want now?” he rasped. He wanted to get up, not lie helplessly at the captain’s feet, but he wasn’t sure his limbs would cooperate.

“Just to see you awake and suffering.”

Trask let out a dry laugh. “Of course.” He clenched his jaw and slowly lifted himself into a sitting position. That was about as far as he could go. The walls tilted in on him, and he blinked hard before looking up at Goler again. The man drew far too much enjoyment from his struggle. “You don’t even know what kindness is, do you?”

Goler smirked. “Why don’t you teach me?”

Trask blew out a sigh. “If I thought you would actually listen, I might try.”

Goler’s lip curled. “So righteous.”

“Is that why you hate me?”

The captain shrugged.

“No, really,” Trask persisted. “Why do you hate me? It can’t only be about Lady Anne. There must be something.” He shook his head. “What did I ever do to you?”

“You,” Goler laughed scornfully, but his expression was set in loathing. “You had everything handed to you from the moment you were born. You didn’t have to work for any of it.
Now me, I’ve worked for years, and this here,” he spread his arms and gestured around him, “is as grand as it’s going to get for me.”

Trask scowled. Ignorant beast. “So you’re jealous, is that it? Well, it may be true I was born a noble, but that doesn’t mean it all came freely. It takes work to rule Landale, to lead the people, to make sure they’re all fed and faring well. I serve and protect them. It’s not all riches and ease. You may lead a company of men, but you have no idea what true leadership is.”

Goler crossed his arms, entirely too pleased after such an insult. “I’ll soon find out.”

Trask frowned and dread wormed through his insides. Goler gave a harsh laugh at his confusion and bent closer.

“You see, once I’ve disposed of you and the girl is found, I’ll have gained special favor with the emperor. As soon as I figure out how to get rid of your father, I expect the emperor will be quite generous and glad to name me as baron of Landale. I’m sure your father has something to hide. He can’t be without blame having a son like you. All I have to do is dig.”

Trask’s breathing grew shallow. It would be his fault if his father
was found out and executed. He was the one who had drawn Goler’s suspicion, his ire.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Leave my father out of this,” Trask forced through his teeth.

Goler snorted. “It’s too late for that. And once I’m baron, there will be nothing to keep me from Lady Anne. Not you, not her father, not anyone. She’ll be all
mine.”

Heat burst through Trask. He shoved to his feet. But Goler was ready, and drove his knee right up into Trask’s gut. Trask collapsed with a groan, and his vision grayed around the edges. It took several moments for him to catch his breath and will the pain to subside. Gasping, he ground out, “You
…are…despicable.”

Goler gave a low chuckle.

Trask looked up at him. “Why don’t you unchain me, let me out of this cell, and face me like a real man?”

“I’m quite content with you exactly where you are.”