Going up the stairs, even with light, took longer than going down them, and both Shi’chen and Lai were silent most of the way up, concentrating on not falling down. When they finally reached the top, Shi’chen was relieved to see that the wall panel was still firmly in place where he and A’bbni had pushed it closed all those weeks ago.
The only problem he was now seeing was that the panel was meant to swing inwards toward them from inside The Keep, not the other way around, so there was no ring or handle to grab to open it. This was easily solved by using his short sword as a lever to get the stone away from the wall. Lai doused the torch they held, and then he and Shi’chen were able to pull it open just enough for them to slip into the deserted hallway, lit only by a few beams of moonlight from windows far down the hallway.
They dragged the door as closed as they were able to without a handle on the hallway side, and then Shi’chen motioned for Lai to follow him down the short corridor. Both had their swords out and ready, but this area of The Keep seemed to be deserted. For now, at least, he told himself.
They made their way down the hall, passing the wooden door of the room he and A’bbni had been held in. That felt like a lifetime ago. Shi’chen felt sick to his stomach even thinking about it, so he just hurried past it and headed up the stairs, Lai following after him, silent as a shadow.
Shi’chen silently thanked the gods and Commander Ahea’a for the knowledge that he had of the layout of the interior of The Keep. The entire royal family did, which meant that En’shea and Hi’jan would as well. The room they had been tortured in was on the second level. The third held several prison cells, and the fifth level was where Traitor’s Ledge and the open courtroom was. But it was the fourth level they wanted. Because that, Shi’chen knew, was where the Emperor would be taken. There was a set of rooms on this level intended for the royal family to stay in the event of an attack, and while it was not lavish, it was comfortable enough that a few days would not be spent sleeping on the floor. There were no windows on the interior rooms either, so no lucky arrows or other projectiles could make their way in, which meant the rooms would be dark until someone bought oil and flame to light the lanterns.
They rounded the corner to the fourth level, and Shi’chen pulled up short when he saw that a singular guard stood watch at the door that led to the interior rooms. En’shea would not be inside yet; if he had been, there would have been several more guards stationed in front of the door. The guard looked very bored and tired, at least, not expecting any issues this late at night.
Shi’chen motioned to Lai, who slipped past him, pulling a couple coins from his pocket. He suddenly tossed two of them down the hall, and the rattling of the coins hitting the stone sounded unnaturally loud in the stillness of The Keep. The guard jumped, grabbing his spear and turning toward where the coins had hit. Lai tossed another one, further this time so it came from further down the hall. After a quick glance around, the guard moved down the hall to investigate. As soon as he had vanished, Shi’chen and Lai sprinted for the door. Shi’chen pulled it open, and they ducked inside the darkened room, shutting the door behind them. And then they held still in the darkness, silent as the grave, as the guard’s footsteps returned and settled back just on the other side, a door and a stone wall the only thing between him and them.
Shi’chen’s heart hammered in his chest, so loud he wondered how it couldn’t be heard through the wooden door, and he forced himself to calm it, feeling Lai’s warmth next to him. They stood there for a very long time, waiting, no sounds coming from them or the guard on the other side. Every once in a while, he would hear some sound from somewhere in The Keep, the sound of voices talking, footsteps on floors below them or on the stairs, but not in the hallway by the guard for another long while.
Shi’chen was just starting to question whether Hi’jan had changed the guard rotation schedule when he heard sandaled footsteps approaching, and the guard by the door straightened and called out a greeting. He reached out a hand to touch Lai’s arm and felt him touch his hand in return. As the two guards stood talking, they carefully made their way across the room in the darkness, the vague outline of a few furniture pieces barely visible from the bit of light under the door, even after what had been several hours of staring into the blackness. They managed to cross the room in almost complete silence, reaching the doorway of the inner bedroom with the luxurious poster bed. They slipped inside, and then Shi’chen finally sparked one of the matches he had to give them the barest bit of light to see.
There was a bed against one wall, taking up most of the space in the room. A desk and chair were against the far wall, but otherwise the room was free of furniture. Shi’chen motioned his head at Lai to the bed, and they both ducked down and slid under it. Shi’chen sent up another grateful prayer that he and Lai were both fairly short and thin, so they were able to get under it, though with not a lot of room to spare. The match went out, plunging the room back into solid, suffocating darkness. And now all they could do was wait.
Chapter twenty-two
A'bbni
A’bbnigroanedsoftly,feelingthe heaviness of his head as he dragged himself back to consciousness. He was lying on something cold and hard, that much he could tell. He forced his eyes open, the rough stone beneath his shoulder and against his back being the first thing he could focus on. He closed his eyes again for a moment, trying to collect his jumbled thoughts.
When he had woken up at Zea’dda’s house the morning after the meeting with the crowd, the house had been quiet, only a few of the servants up getting things ready for the day. He had sat down at the dining table to work on writing several documents, and then… He thought hard, vaguely remembering an arm going around him, and the world had gone black.
He swallowed and felt the sides of his throat pinch. Someone had choked off his air until he had passed out. He took a deep breath, his heart racing in his chest like a company of charging horses. He opened his eyes again, pushing himself up to sitting from the floor on arms that were not quite sturdy, trying to discern where he was. The floor was stone, as were the walls, and as his eyes landed on the singular slit window, he felt panic gather in the pit of his stomach. He was in The Keep, in the same room where he and Shi’chen had been held weeks earlier when En’shea had them arrested. Even the stale, smoky smell of the air and the lingering scent of old blood was hauntingly familiar. His stomach surged into his throat, and he had to force himself not to vomit, taking several deep breaths to try to settle his stomach and calm his racing heart.
He was alone, the door closed. The only piece of furniture in the room was the same scarred wooden table that had been there last time, though now four plain wooden chairs were around it as well. The table where his Father’s head had sat, and where Hi’jan had forced himself on him while En’shea made his brother watch. He took another deep breath as the corners of his vision started to go black, and he leaned against the wall, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on his knees as the world swam. This had to be a dream, he told himself. Just a nightmare that he would wake up from…
The creak of the door opening forced him to lift his head, and he scrambled to his feet much too quickly as Ba’shea and Mii’ra stepped into the room, the lines of their faces cast into sharp eeriness by the flickering torches on the wall. “Vr Ii-Heshar, Var An-Sha’kri,” he said, aware that his voice was shaking. “What is going on?”
“Our apologies for bringing you here this way, Your Highness,” Mii’ra said, giving him a smile that might have been friendly anywhere else as Ba’shea closed the door behind them. A’bbni did not hear the lock click, and he wondered if he would be able to circle around both of them to reach the door. “Please, sit.” Mii’ra gestured to one of the wooden chairs around the table.
“I prefer to stand,” A’bbni replied, eyeing her closely.
“That was not a request, Your Reverence,” Ba’shea said, his voice much lower than he usually addressed the prince. “We have much to discuss.”
“What must we discuss that could not have been discussed at the house?” A’bbni asked.
“I am sure you would be more comfortable sitting in a chair than chained to the wall, Your Reverence. But it is your choice.” Ba’shea’s voice held a coldness that set A’bbni’s teeth on edge.
“Your Highness, please.” Mii’ra’s voice was sticky-sweet. A’bbni hesitated a moment before slowly moving over to sit in the indicated chair, the one facing the door, trying to calm his racing heart. He sat down in it with as much dignity as he could muster, which was not much right now.
Ba’shea took a seat on his left, Mii’ra on his right, meaning he would have to run past one of them to get out. The fourth chair facing him was empty. In front of it, he could still see a discolored stain on the tabletop where his Father’s head had rested all those weeks ago, and he swallowed down another wave of nausea. “Whom else are we expecting?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.
Neither of them answered, just watched him like two hidden snakes watching a mouse approach. He took a deep breath, though he heard it tremble and knew Ba’shea and Mii’ra did too. “Why have you brought me here? Is Lord Kella all right?”
“Lord Kella is fine, Your Highness,” Mii’ra said with a soft smile. “A simple sleeping draught in the tea this morning to ensure there was no interference from him or anyone else in the house. We do apologize for having to render you unconscious in the way we did, but you are much more likely to recognize additives.”
A’bbni swallowed hard. “What of the An-Hila’ras?”
“Also fine for now,” Ba’shea said. “And before you ask, no, we have not done anything to Captain Ra’shii An-Hila’ra, either. However, what happens to any of them going forward depends on you.”
A’bbni took another deep breath and let it out, realizing his hands had started to shake in his lap, and he gripped the hem of his tunic to still them. “What is it you are asking for in return for their safety?”
“We have a proposition for you, Your Highness,” Mii’ra said, tossing her blond hair back. “Your Cousin is hardly fit to rule Hanenea’a, wouldn’t you agree?”
