This was one of the mechanised chairs that allowed healers to tilt the patient back or straighten their legs or arms for treatment. That could be useful for my purposes.
This had gone beyond vandalism and theft. Civilians had died. I needed to know who was behind this and put a stop to Hydra Ascendant once and for all. No matter my queen’s wishes that I focus on the Circle of Ash. No matter the cost. Even if my soul and this man were the ones paying.
Orpha had said he was awake, but he looked unconscious now. It was only once the door clicked shut that he lifted his head. His eyes went wide when they landed on me, and he pressed back in the chair like he could escape.
“Good.” I smiled as I approached, letting my shadows unfurl across the floor. “You know who I am. That will make this easier.”
His nostrils flared as he watched me, but he pressed his lips together. Whatever Orpha had done to him, Elthea had healed now with no sign except for the blood. Some crusted on his lip and beneath his nose.
Circling, I lifted his chin with a shadow. He tried to turn his head to keep me in sight, but I held him in place.
Let fear rule him. The anticipation of pain sharpened the mind. With any luck, he’d understand he had two options: speech or silence. Both ended in death, but one would be much, much more painful.
I ignored the tightness of my stomach at the thought. My discomfort was not important. My country was.
“I hear you were moving wards.” I cleared blood from under a fingernail as I circled back into his view. “Using them to channel Horrors here. Why?”
He pulled against my shadow, trying to dip his chin, and I pulled away suddenly, making him gasp.
“It was an order.” I spread my hands. “I understand. Sometimes we must do things we don’t like. I’m sure you didn’t want to hurt anyone in Tenebris.”
He hunched over, shoulders curling in.
His hair suggested he was originally from a family aligned with Dusk, and his shame when I referenced our city supported that. The dirt made it impossible to tell what colour his uniform had once been, but it looked dark enough that I’d guess it was one of our colours. A torn insignia of the three-headed monster covered his heart.
So the Ascendants were Dusk rebels. And, what? They wanted to replace the queen with one of their own?
I’d been worried about the possibility of civil war if Braea died without an heir, but here they were trying to bring one even earlier.
I pulled my anger tight and kept my voice light. “Just like I hope you’ll understand, I don’t want to hurt you.”
His head lifted, eyebrows raised in hope. His mouth even dropped open as though he breathed a soft sigh of relief.
“But I will.” My shadows coiled around his ankles as I gave him a slow, slow smile. “What does Hydra Ascendant want?”
That was the best way to understand how to guard against them, and it would seem innocuous to him. If he believed in the cause enough, he might even relish the opportunity to share their mission. Once I had that information, I’d find out who led them. And once he’d grown used to spilling secrets, I would ask where they were based and how many they were—the details that would allow me to annihilate them.
“No answer?” I cocked my head. “That won’t do.”
My shadows tightened and tightened. They’d be bruising now. Cutting off the blood soon. And when I pulled them tighter still, there would be the crunch of breaking bone.
“What does your organisation—？”
The door sprung open and in swept a blaze of light. “This is the one who did it?” Cyrus glanced at me, fury in his eyes.
“We’re in the middle of—”
“Dawn needs to be here too.” His lips went pale. “They killed my people as well as yours, Bastian.”
The prisoner flinched as the prince stormed towards him.
“Traitor,” he bellowed, gripping the man’s throat. “All those people dead. My father’s subjects. Who do you work for? Where’s your base? We’ll send an army and destroy them!”
Fucking idiot. He was going to bloody kill the man before I got anything.
“Cyrus,” I snapped, letting my shadows brush his legs—a reminder that it was Dusk’s time.
The fact I used his name and not his title must’ve got through to him, because he straightened and pulled back, chest heaving.
“You can stay—it affects Dawn too. But this is my prisoner, and you will not touch—”
Steel flashed. The Ascendant’s hand—free somehow—held a dagger.
My shadows arced towards him.
If he killed the prince on my watch…
But instead of reaching out, the Ascendant raised the blade to his own throat.
“No!” I reached with every part of me, but blood sheeted down his chest, spurting over my shadows as they gripped his wrist an instant too late.
I called for Elthea as I tried to staunch the blood from his gurgling throat. But it flowed and flowed, and he slumped, no longer making a sound.
The knife clattered to the floor.
Fuck. Fuck!
Cyrus gasped, hand going to his belt and the empty sheath there. “My dagger.”
The strap on the chair’s arm hung loose, its edges sliced. He must’ve taken it when the idiot prince leant right over him, placing the hilt in reach of his bound hand. A simple flick would bring the blade against the leather strap and a moment later—free.
Free to ensure he could never be made to speak.
Elthea burst in. Her eyes only widened a touch as she took in the blood pooled around the treatment chair.
I whirled on her. “Did you strap him in tightly?”
Her expression tightened. “I did my job, Serpent,” she spat. “You failed in yours.”
I held very still so she couldn’t see how her blow landed as she went to the prisoner.
“Well,” Cyrus growled as he retrieved his dagger and cleaned it on the Ascendant’s trousers. “He can’t talk now. I should’ve stayed away and left it to you.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”
Even my self-control wavered at that, making my mouth drop open. Cyrus. Apologising to me?
He frowned, returning his weapon to its sheath. “Did you get anything from him before I arrived?”
I gave Elthea a questioning look as she straightened from inspecting the prisoner. She shook her head. He was beyond even her powers.
Shit.
I sighed and shook my head at Cyrus. “No. Nothing.”
Elthea was right. I had failed.
56
Bastian
It was almost a week after the Solstice, when Rose knocked on my open door. “You wanted to see me?”
I looked up from my desk, where I’d been poring over reports from witnesses and spies from that day. Nothing groundbreaking, but if I went over them enough times, I’d surely find the vital clue I’d missed.
“Not for another…” I blinked at the orrery on the mantelpiece. “Oh, now.” I rubbed my eyes and gestured towards a chair by the fire. “Shut the door.” That would stop anyone hearing this awkward conversation.
As I stretched, shoulders aching, she edged in and took the offered seat.
With a sigh, I sank into its twin. “You know this mission I’m going on tomorrow?”
Her eyes narrowed and she fidgeted. “Yes.” She drew out the word.