Lojen, now kneeling beside his father’s body, ran a loving talon across the stumps where his father’s horns had been.
Tevun had told Emre once, that Zenith gave the first wardkeepers their horns. The most holy of honors awarded a drakken heir, only the strong able to withstand the power associated with the horns. Over the millennia, wardkeepers were seen as beacons of truth and justice, honor bound to keeping the peace. Loyalty was given only to those deemed honest. Friendship was only given to those deserving. Should an heir not prove worthy, the horns wouldn’t serve, and another wardkeeper found. Tevun’s line had been the only line never to be broken, for his horns traced back to the first wardkeepers. For the first time in that ancient line, the honor was in peril of being broken. The shame that would come should Lojen fail to find the horns would be death to his family name.
Do I dare risk this shame for him? This is my folly, not his. Nor Ruane’s.
Lojen went to cover his father once more, but instead sat back on his haunches, only to realize Emre watched him.
Emre knelt. “He was the most loyal soul I’ve ever called friend.”
“He was…” Lojen couldn’t finish the words, the pain too hard Emre realized. The weight on his shoulders was too heavy to carry.
They remained in silence for long minutes, neither saying anything before Emre gently pulled the linen over Tevun. I have to use him. Forgive me. “Lojen, I need your help.”
“The party?” A nod. “Is that what Father wanted of us?”
“Finn and Wick have already secured roles within Gargantua as servants, as have others in our company. Val and I have forged invites.” He scratched at his forearms while he talked, almost too vigorously, avoiding looking at Val, for if he did, he knew his voice would betray everything. “But we need stealth as well. When the Fallen’s soldiers discovered the Seal of Terris in the mines, they took it. We need someone to climb the tethers and sneak aboard Gargantua. From there, discover the location of the Seal. We also believe that Lu Har has your father’s horns and Mother Marrow’s Hammer.”
“Drakken make good climbers,” Ruane said…
…while Lojen gasped, “The Hammer exists?”
“From what we were able to glean from our spies.”
“The Forgemistress’ Hammer is but a legend.”
“It is no legend, Lojen Tevunson.” Val leaned against her brother as she rubbed her arms as if trying to warm them. “I’ve seen it. Bliss has shown it to me. If a Godsblood should ever hold the Hammer, the Seals can be broken. This is what Lu Har desires most. If he should break the Seals to Eminence, Lu Har will win.”
Lojen glanced down at the linen. “You are my ward, Emre Benld. I cannot falter. I will see my father’s duty continued. I’ll protect the Seal with my life, should it come to that.”
“We’ll do it,” Ruane said.
Emre gave the slightest hint of a smile, just the tiniest twitch of the lip. “It’ll be dangerous.”
“I don’t care,” Ruane spat. “I want Lu Har dead. I want the Imperium to burn. Bugger your danger.”
“Two thousand feet in the air with nothing between you and the ground.”
“So what? We’re dead if we don’t get those horns. And the only way to get them is through Lu Har’s corpse. Right, Lojen?”
Lojen already looked terrified, but he had no other choice. “We’re in, Emre. What do we have to do?”
The Gutter King of Drenth, the heir to the Regent’s throne, last vestige of the Benld name stood. Cad, beloved, I… “First we need a catalyst.”
XVI
Cadrianna
CADRIANNA OPENED HER eyes grudgingly as someone banged emphatically on the bedchamber door.
She stirred, a kink in her neck from falling asleep on Lu Har’s chest. The Fallen’s arm was still draped around her bare shoulders, his pulse rising as he came awake from the hammering outside. The scars on his breastbone, runes to the Divine Himself, tingled her palm as he shifted irritably underneath. Aether was never static, always alive. His all-onyx eyes slid open, narrowing toward the door.
“What is it?” His voice groggy, a little stiffness in his jaw.
“AFTER WHAT HE’D DONE TO YOU, I’M NOT SURPRISED IF HIS TONGUE MIGHT BE SORE FOR DAYS,” the Strix joked in that unfunny way it had.
The inky blade lay on the bedside table, never far. If only she could’ve jammed it into Lu Har’s ribs right then and there, ending him. But Cadrianna grinned, not at the joke but the thought of killing her hateful master. By Nocturne, she rued every moment she shared in the Fallen’s bed, it reminded her of the murder of her parents. Of Emre. Of Brynn.
And yet, share his bed she did. Why was a question she never could answer. As much as she wanted to bathe in his blood nearly every waking minute to free her daughter, Cadrianna couldn’t resist him. Something bonded her to him. A need, perhaps. Perhaps something else she couldn’t decipher.
Only death would release her from him. His death or hers.
Inwardly, she seethed, appalled at what she’d done with Brynn’s captor. A dishonesty to herself, to her vows to Emre. Why couldn’t she just end it? What made her stop every time she had the opportunity. Gods, none of it made sense.
There was a muffled response outside as the Fallen tossed the linen sheet from his torso angrily. His bronzed flesh glowed in the soft embers of the dying fire in the far corner, black hair and beard tinted orange in the firelight. Lu Har threw a gold-worked, bloodred robe around his shoulders and tied it off before heading toward the door.
Cadrianna sat up, propping pillows behind her back, settling in as Lu Har drew open the metal entrance to his personal chamber in the highest spire of Gargantua. They had moved venues, his room far more comfortable than hers. She stifled a yawn, using her knuckles to knead the muscle. Her gaze fell upon the black-bladed, owl-handled knife. She snatched it up unconsciously.
A scourge stood head bowed beyond the door. A bearded scourge. Ratko. He did not raise his beady eyes to look at Lu Har, rather in her direction, ogling her nude state. A sick grin spread across his ugly face as Ratko said something low.
“SOMETHING ABOUT THE GUTTER KING. HIS HIDEOUT POTENTIALLY DISCOVERED.”
“Hmm.”
Before Lu Har could respond, Ratko was shoved out of the way by a short figure adorned in a green stola that flowed behind. The newcomer sneered at the scourge, took in Lu Har in his robe, and then sought out Cadrianna perched upon the bed. The womanly façade on the outside smirked but the ancient beast’s true eyes bore nothing short of hate.
“One of my scourges has found them, the Gutter King and his rebels.” Solanine barged into the bedchamber, slamming the door on Ratko, “but it appears your attention’s been squandered on whores.”
