"You are hereby, by order of the crown and council, sentenced to fifty lashes and death in the manner prescribed for by law." The administrator rolled up the scroll and tossed it to the side. I swallowed, nodded, and turned my back to him to face the others.
It would hurt, I knew, but only fifty? Did my king try to intervene? To get the council to lower the---
I gasped as the whip bit into my skin with a crack. Mother turned into Father's chest, hiding her face away. I stumbled with the next blow, earning a quick sharper one as punishment. Garth clenched his jaw. Percy was not here.
Neither was my king.
The cord burned across my shoulders. My eyes moved away from Mother, not wanting to watch her flinch and grasp at Father. Dinah stood next to Oliver, near one of the Zeta Tubes. She had one hand on---I gritted my teeth as he hit the same spot. Stars danced in my vision.
My breath hitched. Stay standing. Take the punishment like a soldier. Do not--- Don't worry Dinah. Don't disgrace Mother and Father.
Don't disgrace Poseidon.
I wanted to call out to him as the whip struck again. He would make it better. He would hold me. He hadn't saved us from torture before, but he didn't know I was his then. I didn't. Just as I did not call out to Dinah. If I did, I knew she would interrupt. She would spirit me away to her home and bundle me in blankets.
Earther culture could be so much softer than ours at times.
The promise of warmth and cookies, of hugs and soft kisses, it was already so far out of reach. I'd never taste Mother's kelp cakes again. I should have asked her to make some. The water to my left rose and fell like breathing. I tried to match mine to it.
My choked inhales were forced out. They sounded too much like a sob. How many lashes were we at? Ten? Twenty? I had lost count. My vision began to swim. The thin material of my shirt stuck to my back. I could no longer feel my fingertips.
It's fine. It's fine. How many times had I been through it before in that cell? How many times in those dreams? The monsters simply decided to offer more hope that I had been truly freed before ripping it away again. And if it's real, I'd die soon. Everything would be over. And this was nowhere near the punishment I deserved. It was no different than what the monsters did. I should tell him that.
That wouldn't make a difference. He probably didn't want to do this anyway. If he did, if he thought I truly deserved punishment, there would be other things here. He'd use a different whip. He'd have added to it, brought iron rods or heated brands. This was a formality. Punish me with the fastest and least painful of the available punishments, refusing to even let the whip bite as deep as it could, then let me put an end to my misery. It was more mercy than I deserved.
With any luck, the man would not hesitate with the second part. I knew what would happen in the execution. The golden knife was already in place in front of me. As soon as my punishment was over, he'd force me to kneel and take it up. I'd stab myself in the stomach with the jagged blade. He'd press his foot against my back to drive me deeper onto it.
Dinah would try to stop it, that was also something I knew, but I would not let her.
I should have talked to her before, called her and apologized, because for all that I have told her that I would not kill myself, that I would not do it in front of her, that was what was about to happen. Would she hate me for that? Or would she understand that this was not a choice I could make? I could not demand for her to leave. I have no rights to make requests.
Maybe it was misleading to tell her it was a trial. There would have been one had I not turned my back and accepted the penalty. But the king would have to get involved, more than he already was. Percy would have to be involved, called to denounce me and declare my acts. I could not do that to her.
It would go against the entire reason I made the choices I did. This could be my final act of protecting her.
I heard the whip clatter to the floor. The administrator's footsteps were loud. He had boots on, heavy ones designed for executions. His hand wrapped the back of my neck, fingers pressing into my gills, and he shoved me onto my knees. The pressure, the heavy hand of justice, did not lessen until I wrapped a clammy hand around the knife.
There was a rumble as the Zeta Tube began to whirl into life. I glanced at it. Please don't be my friends. They didn't need to see this. Dinah looked sick as it was. I took a deep breath and lined the tip of the knife up with my navel. If I did it right, it would be a quick death. If I got it wrong...
I wouldn't.
"Stop."
At my king's voice, I jolted and drove the blade in. It was burning, searing pain. Hot blood gushed around my hands when I drew it out. Die. Die. Die. If he's interrupting now, there's only one reason. Dinah yelled and her hands grabbed mine, forcing me to drop the blade. It clattered into a growing crimson pool.
I struggled. I did not press deep enough. Blood, warm and sticky as it was, was not pouring out fast enough for me to have stabbed the artery. Maybe a little more to the left? With a hard jerk, I freed one hand. The hilt of the knife was slippery.
Before I got a good grasp on it, Orin lifted me. I gasped, neck spasming. My back was raw and his arm crossed so many places. Black tinted over everything. My king's eyes were wild. Despite that his voice was soft and somber. "Can you put pressure on that for me?" I didn't move. I couldn't move. Pain ate at me, forcing me into this contorted position. He called for Mother, and she pressed down. Wetness---tears or blood?---ran down my face.
Darkness consumed my vision, and when I regained it, I was staring up at a blank ceiling.
"Lay him on his back."
"Sha'lain'a, he's---"
"Do you want to risk his organs spilling out when I cut him open?" she bit. I shuddered, bile rising to my throat. She should not be doing this. She should not try to save me. I hurt her youngest, I hurt her baby.
"You should not be the one doing this."
"You should not have allowed them to sentence him to death in the first place. On his back, Orin."
I whined. Mother flitted over to me.
"I know, sh. I need you on your back, so I can help you." She brushed her fingers over my cheeks, comforting me for the wrong thing. I wanted her to let me die."And afterwards I will let you sleep with me and your father like you did when you were younger. However long you wish to. And when--When you are all better, I will make you plenty of kelp cakes. As many as you can stomach."
Orin eased me onto the cot, letting his touch linger. He was close to me, only a few inches between the two of us. I could smell the cologne he was wearing, sandalwood. I peeked at my stomach, catching a glimpse of a cotton pad slowly turning pink. A finger caught my chin and turned it up. He kissed my forehead, before pulling away.
"Do I need to strap him down?"
I tugged at his hand. Mother said something back to him, I did not pay enough attention to know what. They were having a conversation over me, while I clung to his hand like an infant. I pulled at him again. Finally, he turned his gaze to me.
"Why?" I rasped. The words were hard to force out. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. They probably were not audible, forced out on a jagged breath. Orin's eyebrows drew together. Mother chased him out before he could answer.
I watched her dig through her satchel. The dolphin charm grinned at me. It was green, carved out of some sort of gemstone or shell, I couldn't remember which. Percy and I had gotten it for her on her birthday. Father bought it for us. Five year olds did not tend to have a lot of money. What would Percy get her this year? Maybe a new sash.
She usually got her one so she could borrow it later.
Mother pulled out a thin vial, half full of an almost honey-thick liquid, and a dosing cup. The lid came off easily. The thick medicine came out in a slow stream. Why did it seem familiar? It pooled to the first line, then the second and third. She screwed the lid on and tucked it back into the bag.
"I need you to drink this."
I pressed my lips tight. A sedative, that was what it was. I'd seen the purple color and consistency enough time from Percy's various injuries to recognize it. I had seen Mother dose people before blood would billow in the water. She should not do this. I tried to mirror Orin's words, but they would not come out. Her hands were shaking.
"Baby...Please. Please. For Mommy? It will make you feel better. It will make the pain stop."
Once again, I tried to speak, but the liquid was forced down my throat. I coughed and choked on the cloying mixture. Within minutes, the haze returned, clouding every sense. My hands grasped for Mother and I pulled her down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. I giggled. She looked so surprised. Or maybe afraid?
"Kaldur?"
"Love you."
Relief danced over her features. "I love you too, baby boy. But I think I dosed you for your sister." She ruffled my hair, and I pouted. "You will be asleep soon, darling boy. Have good dreams for me, okay?"
As if to prove her point, I yawned. "Can I stay in your room later?" Father was always comfy, but Percy always stole him. It was not fair.
"As soon as you are all better, you can sleep in there whenever you want. But you need to rest right now so I can help you." A warm kiss to my forehead distracted me long enough for the drug to drag me under.
Everything was dark.
And here we have a nice ending that totally isn't actually ambiguous whatsoever
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the book and the constant derailment that ensure I almost always focus on one blorbo to torture
(The coin toss said hurt the boy, you know who you are lol)
for the last time on this book
See yah