Hills of clothes, mountains of books, and canyons constructed of framed art and chests of jewels make up the labyrinth that is Ashavee's workspace. She sits in a red high-backed chair behind a sturdy wooden desk, logging the Allaji's newest acquisitions into a journal. The valuables are sorted on shelves that almost touch the storeroom's ceiling. The shifters don't find worth in items which don't ensure their survival. Books, art, and most clothing are considered nothing more than fire kindle. My heart aches at seeing the talent and history of other kingdoms, including my own, discarded without a second thought.
"Ulric won't sit still," I say from my place on the floor next to a heap of clothes. "He opened the wound on his back again this morning and ruined another shirt. And don't get me started on what it is like sharing a bed with him. The man is in constant motion, up and down, walking and turning. How is he ever going to heal if he doesn't take it easy?"
Ashavee glances up from the book she is logging items into and cocks a brow. "I'm sure much of it is a nervous habit. It can't be easy to be under the same roof as your enemy."
"Trust me, I know."
"And how is your leg?"
I run my hand over my tender thigh. The ache is continuous, and I fight not to limp when I walk. Any show of weakness can be used against me, whether it's in Zek's throne room or walking the halls of his palace. I will not let my enemy think I'm easy prey, "The stitches have held up well enough for me to sneak out of the room while Ulric was napping. Even if he woke up, I'm sure I could outrun him."
"I'm not sure that gives you bragging rights, considering what he's been through."
"I take what I can get these days," I say, folding a tunic and adding it to my pile for Ulric.
Two days ago, making a joke about Ulric's condition would have been the furthest thing from my mind. His physical state was heart wrenching. I could barely look at him without tears welling in my eyes and stabbing pain in my chest. He is still weak, but the color is returning to his complexion and his gaunt features plump with each meal. With him on the mend, it's difficult not to think of the Cyffred who are not as lucky as him. If Zek has his way, more will a worse fate than Ulric.
"You just need to keep him entertained," Ashavee says, tossing a scroll at me. "Maybe you can have him solve the mystery of the Cruel King's Stone."
I remove the frayed leather tie and unrolling the water-stained paper. The black ink is smeared in several places, but the image is still discernable—a map. Of where, I'm not sure, but it is detailed with sloppy notes written along the edges, marking places of interest. "What is the Cruel King's Stone?" I ask.
"You never went on treasure hunts as a child to look for the most powerful of all the Sacred Gifts—the one that can give and take power?"
"No. I didn't have time for many games as a child. I had history and royal protocol to learn. When I had the chance for fun, my best friend and I were sparring. We were determined to become the most skilled sword fighters in the five kingdoms," I say, basking in the memory of Leif and I clashing swords in the middle of the forest.
"While you were learning to be queen, other children were searching for ways to rule the world. When some of those children grew up, they didn't give up on that notion. It's the driving force behind the Outlanders. They still search for the stone."
I examine the weathered map again. The terrain is mountainous, with countless bodies of water winding through the landscape. I've never claimed to be a geographical expert, but nothing is familiar to me. Even the small printed notes next to landmarks aren't helpful. The only familiar shape is the worn stamp on the corner of the tattered map. Property of the Stigian Royal Achieves.
"This came from my kingdom," I say.
"I'm not surprised. I believe this last haul came from one of your ships." My face heats with anger, and I clench my jaw. They have stolen enough from my kingdom. The Allaji have my people, must they steal our goods too?
"I'm sorry, Elle," Ashavee says, her apology sincere.
The desire to study the crude design of the map is dulled by the knowledge that I sit amongst items which may have cost more of my people their lives. My stomach churns and my skin beads with sweat. Fearful that I might lose my breakfast, I roll up the map and gather the clothes.
"Thank you for your help, Ashavee." I barely hear her response as I rush out of the room.
It doesn't surprise me that the Outlanders would ransack a ship. They are known for their lawlessness and violent means of getting what they want. The day I left my kingdom to become a soldier, I encountered three Outlanders. I never allowed myself to think about what would have happen if Leif didn't come to my rescue. The Outlanders don't live by any law and consequences for their actions are far and few between. My story ended well, but the same can't be said for whoever owned the map.
Perhaps my life as Micah's heir made me oblivious to the harsh truth beyond Luncent's walls. Other than the battles between Lucent and Stigian, the five kingdoms seemed peaceful. I don't recall hearing about plundering pirates and desperate people searching for power. I always thought everyone was content with what the Statera had gifted them, minus the Outlanders. There was never a reason to wish for something we had no control over. I'd obviously projected my thoughts on the rest of the world. Now that I know better, it feels like destruction inevitable. It is a snowball racing downhill, growing and picking up speed as it heads right for me and my kingdom. I must stop it before it buries the people I love, and we can't dig ourselves out.
I enter my room, and Ulric glances back at me from his perch, staring out the window. A line of blood stains his shirt. His wound has split open again. He returns his attention to the scene below as I shut the door.
"Not everyone on the ground is a shifter," he says, his voice gravely from lack of use.
After setting my finds from the storage room on the table, I step to his side. "No, the Allaji conduct business with Outlanders. They get many of the goods they need to survive from their pillaging. In exchange, the Allaji allow the opportunity to mine the caves in the kingdom. The shifters find no real value in precious stones, but they are a great bargaining tool for the Outlanders. After they are done drinking and fucking, they will board their ships and either head for the mainland or in search for other vassals to steal from."
"It figures that two vile groups of beings would be allies," he says.
I understand the disgust he feels. I've spent my fair share of time simmering in it. Both the Outlanders and the Allaji are at fault for their current situations. One didn't want to live by the rules of a kingdom, so they have no land of their own. And the other has depleted all their resources by overindulgence and a refusal to work their land. I feel sorry for neither of them, yet I understand why they do the terrible things they do.
Wrapping my fingers around Ulric's bicep, I say, "Let me clean up your back and help you into a fresh shirt."
I guide him to a chair at the table before retrieving a damp cloth from the washroom. When I return, he is shirtless and slouched forward. His wound is an irritated bright pink smeared in blood. I wipe along the newest mark that runs from his right shoulder blade to just above his trousers. His back flexes at the gentle touch as he sucks in the air between his teeth.
I cringe and say, "It is looking better, but you're slowing the process by not resting."
"It's hard to relax when I'm tormented by the memories of what happens outside these walls," he says with a sharp edge to his tone. The crease between his brows deepens, speaking his unspoken hurt. I've been witness to the quick way he makes friends. Ulric is likable and loyal. I don't doubt that he connected with many Cyffreds in the fields, and he worries for his new friends.
"I know. I can't stop thinking about it either," I say.
"The things happening within these walls aren't much better," he murmurs.
I fall silent as I work the salve into his skin. Images I've locked into the furthest recesses of my mind struggle to break free. The horrors Ulric and I endured the other day are minimal to the barbaric punishments Zek has dealt within his throne room. I've sat idle as he has ordered the torture of my people, fearful that a single outburst will only fuel more of his cruelty. It wasn't for my sake that I said nothing as he ordered the whipping, severing of limbs, and other brutalities. It was fear for the countless others he could use for his sick entertainment if I reacted. If I showed no emotion, he would have no joy in watching my heart splinter into millions of unrepairable shards.
"Choose a shirt," I say, placing the lid on the salve.
Ulric grabs the tan tunic on top of the pile. The rolled parchment underneath falls to the floor, and the leather strap breaks free, revealing the map inside. "What is this?" he asks, picking it up.
"Have you ever heard of the Cruel King's Stone?" I ask, studying the smeared lines from over his shoulder.
"Aye. It is an old folktale mothers and fathers tell their children when they want a moment of silence. They send the wee ones out on a fool's errand to find the stone. I spent many days huntin' the countryside for it."
"It seems even adults believe in its existence. This map was stolen from a Stigian ship."
He scoffs and sets the paper on the table. Pulling his shirt over his head, he says, "Like I said, it's a fool's errand. You would be better off searchin' for a way out of here."
I roll the map and secure it with the leather again. Ulric is right; both he and Ashavee have said the legend was a children's story. But something stirs inside me each time I look at the map. I don't have a desire to possess the stone rumored to be the most powerful. It stirs something deeper within me, an inexplicable hope. I chuckle to myself. I'm ridiculous—no better than the daydreaming children searching for the stone.
"In all seriousness, we need to find a way out of here, Elle."
"Haven't you wondered why the Outlanders remain on the ground and not up here? There is only one way to come and go from this place, and that is with the help of a shifter. And let's say you and I tie some sheets together and repel down the trees, which sounds terrifying, by the way. One of those animals on the ground is going to eat us. Since you're the injured one, they will catch you first and when your boney ass doesn't satisfy them, they're coming for me."
"Good. Then you will have a chance of getting to Kyron and stopping him before he does something stupid."
"If we escape, we do it together," I snap, finding no humor in his sacrificial talk.
Ulric's eyes narrow, and his tone is hard as steel. "Then use whatever means possible to find a way out of here. Because if you don't, I will start ripping the sheets apart and feed myself to the wolves for you. I swore an oath to protect my kingdom and its ruler. You may not be queen, but you're vital to my king."
"I'm trying," I say with a sigh.
"Try harder, Elle!"
"Don't—"
A knock on the door has us both clamping our mouths shut, but neither of us breaks eye contact.
"Open up, your highness. Our king needs some entertainment," Holly says, her sickly sweet voice making my stomach turn.
"Go and uses the asshole's infatuation with flaunting you before his court to our benefit. Keep those pretty brown eyes open and listen for any information that can help us," Ulric whispers.
"Fine, but you need to promise me you will rest. I'll need a strong soldier at my side when we figure out a way to escape. And I don't need you serving yourself to the shifters as a free meal."
"Deal."
I fan out my pale pink skirt, draw my shoulders back, and walk to the door. The past couple of days have given me the illusion of security, hidden from the taunts and brutality of the Allaji court. I pretended to be consumed by Ulric's welfare—and I do care that he heals—but he was also a distraction...a way to avoid my tormentor. But the nagging truth never released its hold on me. We're not safe in this place and that danger will spread beyond these walls. It will travel across this land and infect other kingdoms. The only way to stop it is to face it head on and learn its secrets. So, with a deep breath, I brace myself to confront the Allaji tyrant once more.