KINGSLAYER

♕ 1 | 2 ♕

"From which poor soul did you steal those?" I asked when one finally lit, the fire glowing against the stone walls.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" One shaky hand cupping the flame against the winds outside, he lowered it to the heap of sticks.

When it caught, he leaned his back to the rock wall and eyed me. "That makes two seafaring journeys that have fallen to utter shit. Hali must truly hate you."

"Technically, the first had nothing to do with the element itself. And I have always held the Gods' favor." I clasped my hands nearer to the fire. The grayish tinge was slowly leaving them. "You, on the other hand, seem to have trouble sticking to you like a shadow."

"Things would be much too mundane for my taste otherwise."

"I would prefer mundanity to constantly outrunning death." But even as I said it, I felt the untruth of it in my mouth. Perhaps I had always been too wild for my own good.

"Said the madwoman who pitched herself over the side of a ship."

There was that word again, mad. Years of hearing it whispered behind my father's back made me despise it when aimed at me. The dark pleasure in Khan's eyes told me he had deduced that already, hence why he said it often.

I bit back the sharp retort already on my tongue, simply saying, "If ambition is madness, then yes, consider me mad." At that, he raised an incredulous eyebrow, so I said, "Surely you have learned by now how far I will go for my crown, how I will do anything for my people."

"Anything?"

"Anything that does not take my life," I corrected, not pleased with his sneaking smile.

"It's a shame martyrdom won't make you the ruler you wish to be, because I would have been more than willing to help with that."

I heard through his humor to the death threat underneath. Deflecting it with chilly silence, I turned to watch the storm outside.

The world was darker than before, but only because my eyes had become accustomed to the fire. Now that we were enveloped within safe walls, the roar of the rain dimmed to a steady patter. Thunder cracked a few times, but it no longer sent my heart skittering now that I was not out in open water.

When I looked back to Khan, his eyes were closed. Rivulets of water dripped from his dark hair, running down his face and neck. My gaze dropped to his bare chest, which was littered with white scars sequestered from his time as a mercenary. Whether he was asleep or only pretending, it would be too easy to stab my swords through it to pierce his shriveled little criminal heart.

It was what my father would have me do. Again, the urge to be the child he raised was strong. Amongst my other necessities for keeping Khan alive, that realization was what kept me from reaching for my blades.

Wrapping my arms tighter around myself, I settled down and closed my eyes.

♕ ♕ ♕ ♕ ♕

When I woke, the rain had stopped, but the world outside had only barely lightened enough for me to guess it was morning. I stood from the rock wall I slumped against in sleep.

The fire had long since died, only charred remains where the flames had flickered last night. I crouched to check my clothes. As I expected: dried by the warm stones beside the fire—but they were cool when I restored them to my body. Before securing my sheaths to my back, I checked that both swords were intact. Sargon would very quickly rescind His blessing upon me if I foolishly let the swords fall from their ancient glory.

Rapidly braiding my hair and knotting it at the nape of my neck, I found pain in the place my head had cracked against the ground underwater. It was not a pressing issue by any means, but it was more than enough of a reminder that last night's storm had not been a figment of my sleep-deprived imagination.

Turning to Khan, I saw him still unconscious in the same position as last night. "Khan," I said, hoping he slept lightly enough that I would not have to risk a black eye—or worse—while shaking him awake.

At the mention of his name, he awoke suddenly and completely. As if ready for a fight. The mercenary's gaze was sharp as it raked the hollow. I did not fail to see the dark look passing over his face as he laid eyes on me.

"Get dressed. We must leave while the day is still young." I turned out of the hollow as he pulled himself together.  It was drizzling again, but over the ocean, the dark clouds dropped open to create a downpour visible even from where I was watching.

Taking a few aimless steps, I surveyed the area for an easy way over the jungle-like forested cliffs that rose up suddenly from the white sand a few hundred feet away. If my calculations were correct, Zotstaff was to the north—a short climb over the hills should take us there before noon.

I became aware of Khan behind me and moved from his path; I always did my best to never leave my back exposed to him. Ushering him before me, I followed him up an overgrown pathway up the hill. From the brush growing straight across the path, I assumed this was a way from the city to the secluded beach that had not been in use for years.

The higher we trekked, the steeper the grade became. Whenever it felt as if we had covered no territory, I looked back and saw how far down the white beach was. And then I turned my eyes back up to the mountain's peak, blinking mist from my eyes.

As the path began to curve erratically, I began to feel pain in the muscles strained in last night's events. It was nearly enough to make me have second thoughts about pushing myself so soon after nearly drowning to death. Nearly, but not quite.

Finally, the end was before us. The city below spread out far and wide as we stood on the peak. Zotstaff was a port city that stretched from the coast and spread very far inland for a single city. The entire place was built around a wide river that flowed in from the harbor, dividing it in two. There was so much to take in that I simply stood and gaped for a moment.

Then, shouldering my burden, I began the precarious descent to the city.