I was lying on my back, a dark ceiling above me. My head pounded sluggishly. I couldn't muster even a shred of fear or anger when I let it slump to one side and saw Iso watching me.
I watched him back, my vision blurry but coming into focus the longer I looked. He was dressed in dark blue, the color rich and beautiful though I couldn't grasp the details of the fabric yet. His posture was straight and tall. I could tell from the hands clasped casually between his knees that he was relaxed. His face was thoughtful. I didn't like that.
The silence was total and heavy. Though it was pleasant to my headache, it also seemed to weigh down and obstruct the trail of my thoughts. I was distrustful of that silence, but not as much as I was of Iso's thoughtfulness. Maybe if it was quiet long enough my head would stop hurting and it would be peaceful.
I listened and watched him. When I thought I might drift back to sleep, he finally moved, leaning forward slightly.
"I confess, I thought you'd wake up and begin spitting fire immediately. But it seems you've calmed down since we last saw each other."
"You drugged me," I said calmly. Fear and anger were still absent. I was a little tired and disoriented and not particularly bothered, though I disliked him and the situation. "That tends to have an effect on people."
That twitch of his mouth might have been a smile. "So you still have a sense of humor."
"Not for you." My vision was clearer, picking up sharper details. Like the scar on his cheek. As I began to think clearer as well, I realized he must have scars beneath his shirt as well. "Joshua left his mark on you."
Whatever humor was in his face darkened. "He did. You both did. But you see, the tables have turned. Where once you and the ex-captain had me at your mercy, I now have you at mine."
Yes. Unfortunately. Strange, though, that it was only me. Joshua had been just in front of me when the Englians attacked. But after drawing my friends away, they'd only cared about reaching me. If this was Iso's revenge for Joshua trying to kill him and me helping, why had they only gone for me? Unless —
"Where are they?" If he had hurt Joshua, who'd spent years under an identity he hated because of Iso's meddling, or Nick, who had gone through so much recently, or Wes, who had already lost Jaden... if he had hurt any of the people under my protection, I would kill him.
He straightened his shirt cuffs as if the subject was inconsequential. "Your friends? I don't know. Perhaps the wretched Protectorate government is sheltering them."
That was good, as long as he was telling the truth. But why didn't he care that they'd escaped? Why did he look as though he had everything he wanted?
"The drug is wearing off," he observed.
It was. Thinking of what he could have done to my friends had sparked the anger I was missing. I flexed my wrists against the cuffs that held them at my sides and smothered a growl at their tightness. My legs were held down tight as well. I lifted my head to see what might be visible. From the absence of my boots, I knew they'd taken the blades hidden there. My belt was gone, my sleeves pushed up. They'd taken every blade they'd found. I let my head drop back down, my clips digging into my scalp, and didn't look at him. He didn't deserve any shred of respect.
"So you've captured me. Can't see why you didn't just kill me."
"A fair suggestion, considering what you tried to do to me. But I don't feel the need to take you from this world just yet. Frankly, it's more interesting with you in it." If I read his voice correctly, he was smiling as he spoke. "But we can't have you running around as you are right now, either. You are a headache, Morane Laerhart. We are going to have to do something about that."
I felt a little sick. As unpleasant as talking to Iso was, it was probably preferable to whatever he wanted to do to me. I needed to distract him, slow him down, give the others a chance to get here first. Wherever here was.
"How long was I out?" I wanted to stay cool and uncaring, but the drug's retreat had taken my calm with it. I fought to keep my voice level.
"Two days and pieces. You did wake up a few times, I suppose you don't remember."
My stomach dropped. I'd hoped they'd just gotten me here. If it had been that long, though, it could only mean the others didn't know where I was any more than I did.
"I'd hoped you would give me more of a conversation than this. You seemed clever when we had our conversation over dinner."
"I thought I was a captive. I didn't realize I was entertainment," I snapped back, then bit my tongue. If he wanted me to be clever, I didn't want to be. But then again, the longer we talked, the longer it would be before he started... whatever he wanted to do to me. I had to swallow my pride and give in a little. I turned my head again to look at him.
He was smiling humorlessly. "I get the feeling you can't help but be entertaining. It comes from your unpredictability. You are hard to plan around."
It felt like he was choosing his words carefully. But I had always felt that around Iso, felt the invisible strings and delicate machinery he seemed to be adjusting witch each word, as if he were an actor on a tricked stage. There was a hidden meaning behind each pause. What I didn't understand was what he could be hiding when I was at his mercy. What was he playing at?
I scrambled uselessly for what kind of question he wanted to be asked. If he was sitting here, calmly conversing, then he was willing to be stalled. I just needed a topic.
But he beat me to it, apparently not feeling the need to pretend the conversation was equal. "I have a particular hatred for the Protectorate, but it really is lucky for us you travelled through it. Medea — my younger daughter, you met her —"
I certainly had, and I liked her about as much as I liked her older sister.
"— she recognized you when you visited the university. She passed word on, and we've been waiting for you to come through again."
"Why is Medea in the Protectorate anyway?"
He paused. "You know what the university is."
A glorified prison, yes. Still, I looked at him, thinking.
He seemed to take that as a lack of understanding. "Their Majesties the Monarchs of Englescroft saw fit to send Medea here for her education, and for my continued loyalty."
He must have thought I was stupid. I understood what he was saying alright, it just clashed with what I already knew of him. The fact that the monarchs of Englescroft felt the need to take Iso's daughter in order to keep him in line suggested they couldn't quite trust him. But everything I knew of Iso, from what Joshua had told me of his past service to Englescroft and his own behavior, had convinced me he was a very willing agent of the Englian crown. It didn't add up, unless I had completely misunderstood him.
Did Iso not really want to serve Englescroft this way? Was that why he had been such an odd ambassador, trying to sway my loyalties and then spouting threats? I could have believed it if he wasn't such a despicable person.
I had gotten too quiet, staring at him with narrowed eyes as I tried to puzzle him out.
He stiffened and changed the subject quickly. For a moment I felt a sense of power, of authority. Even chained down and a prisoner I could make him uncomfortable.
"I am not happy you made me come all this way to see you, Morane. This is a vile country."
I resisted the urge to inquire if he wasn't used to vile countries, being from Englescroft. I was trying not to piss him off into killing me, after all. And this was the second time he had brought up hating the Protectorate. Perhaps monologuing on that would distract him for a while. "It is?"
"Of course." He did seem pleased to have the chance to explain why it was vile. "The government here is infested with weak-willed rodents. Have you any experience with the Protector?"
I shook my head as much as I could while facing him.
"Be glad. She is the worst of them all. She and her government taunt the rest of the continent, lording their prison-university over us. How superior they feel, a tiny land — technically not their own country — wielding all this power by providing this service to other nations. There are days I cannot fathom how my king and queen could send Medea to a place that has mocked us so openly. Not to mention it is a coward's service. No country can offend the Protectorate because it holds so many prisoners, and this safety in turn makes it an ideal vault for nations to lock their prettiest prisoners in... and so the cycle goes."
I listened, tense. He had yet to mention Gal. I hoped that meant he had no idea a Guardian had ever been kept in this prison he hated. I would hate for Gal to have to deal with Iso trying to get him on his side as he tried with me. Tried very badly, that is, which just circled my thoughts back to questioning if Iso had been a terrible ambassador on purpose. But to what end?
"Are you listening, Morane?"
"Intently, my lord."
That satisfied him. Either my sarcasm was subtle or it didn't bother him. "I am sure the Protectorate's feelings are mutual. Medea sends me what information she overhears. They seem to have a particular disgust for Englians."
That feeling was hardly limited to the Protectorate. What a strange feud, anyway, between two countries that didn't even touch each other. Englescroft was on Solangia's western border, the Protectorate at the north. The corner of mountains where they could have intersected was part of Emorial proper, if I remembered my geography correctly.
He sighed. "Well, the Protectorate's ill will is no problem of mine. It is as small as its vileness is large; it has not the resources to challenge us. Perhaps once we have Solangia we will crush it as well. Thank you for your listening ear."
He sounded like he was winding down. My heart sped up. I tried to steady my breathing. He wouldn't sound this calm if he were going to do something painful. I hoped he couldn't.
He stood up and moved outside the range I could see by twisting my head. I heard a door open.
"Is it night, then?" I called. My voice didn't quite keep steady.
"Oh, Morane. No. I am not leaving you to sleep." He came back but didn't sit. Beyond the open door I could hear someone moving around and a fire crackling. "I'm afraid now is the time to do something about all those headaches you cause."
My fingers twitched involuntarily, but there was no blade nearby to grab. "You said you didn't want me dead."
"And so I don't. But we are certainly not going to send the rebellion's favorite thief back to them as she was. You'd just cause more trouble. While the revolution provides us with an interesting opportunity, we don't want a strong democracy in Solangia any more than we want a strong king there. You are too strong, too powerful. Something must be done."
I clenched my shaking hands into fists. "Tell me. Get it out."
Iso smiled gently. "You remember my interest in the Guardians, their history and lore."
I did, and I didn't care. I wanted to know what he was going to do. No, I wantedto knock him flat on his back and drive my heel into his skull, but more immediately I was terrified of his calm satisfaction.
"I came across some interesting information in all my research. Something I believe might be the Guardians' only flaw."
I felt what I thought was a phantom itch or crawling bug before I realized it was his light touch against my shoulder. Ice stabbed my gut in reflexive disgust and fear. I jerked my arm but couldn't move it far away from him.
A blade whisked from its sheath.
"Get away from me!"
All he did was pull my sleeve away from my arm and saw through the fabric. The air prickled, cold, against my bare shoulder.
"Ah. It's beautiful." He traced the golden circle of the mark and I cringed. "It really is like metal."
"Get. Away. From. Me."
"Please be still," he said patiently. "It will hurt more if you keep flinching. Won't it?"
"It will." That voice had to be Medea. She stepped into view next to him a moment later. Her dark, blood red hair was pulled away from her face, a pale blur as my panic rose. She held another knife.
Iso leaned over me. He put one hand on my other bound arm in a way that would have been comforting from someone else. His grip was painful as he looked down into my eyes. "Cruelty can be a fine weapon, if it is handled inventively. You might learn that someday."
I pulled against the restraints. There was no point, but I couldn't stay still. I was going to throw up.
"Do you understand what I am going to do?" He studied my face, making sure. "I am taking you away from the rebellion. I am taking a Guardian away from Solangia. Medea is going to cut it out of you, and then we will send your empty shell back. You'll see what you're worth to them when you're no longer a Guardian."
There was no time to try to bargain, or even beg. The fine blade of Medea's knife slipped between the living metal of the Mark and my skin and sliced. My breath caught and held and hurt. I couldn't breath.
She sawed up and down along the curve of the outer circle, shredding skin as she dug the mark out. Blood rolled down my arm.
I screamed.