I hurried over to the door, which swung open to reveal a crumbling set of stairs that twisted up and out of sight.
Yes! Just like she said it would be.
I tossed the bow aside and ensured I still had my remaining sword, daggers, and two pouches. No going back now. I grabbed the torch and started climbing the steps.
The tunnel was narrow, barely wide enough for one person. Cobwebs littered the walls, and the air smelled like it hadn’t stirred since the Age of Gods.
A faint rumble hummed through the tunnel as I climbed. The waterfall? The tunnel supposedly cut through the cliffside from the Den to the palace.
Perhaps Renwell was waiting at the end. Or did he think we’d perished in his ambush?
Either way, I had to hurry.
Thoughts of Kiera invaded my mind as I climbed faster. Had she woken? What did she think of me now? And why,why, did she betray us?
My jaw hardened. First, I needed to steal back the crown. Then I would find Kiera and demand answers. In exchange for a few of my own.
At long last, I reached a wooden door with rusted hinges. Carefully setting the torch down, I slowly unspooled Librius’s latest creation—a string painstakingly dipped and dried inspattersap. I lined the doorway with it, sticking the string to the frame with chunks of clay infused with the mico powder from the powder bombs. I left the clean end of the string dangling near the doorknob, just as Librius instructed me.
Abandoning the torch, I pressed my lips to my father’s ring, then unsheathed my sword. I twisted the doorknob. It stuck a bit, but gave way.
The door creaked open, pushing a tapestry out with it. Dozens of lit candles made the wide, circular room glow. The royal bedchamber.
But the bed was empty.
A man wearing the gold-and-sunstone crown and royal colors of Rellmira paced the marble floor. Weylin.
I stepped into the light just as Weylin noticed me. He whipped out the sword at his side.
“Gods damn Renwell,” he breathed, a smile curling through his dark gray beard. “He’s always right.”
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. Finally coming face to face with the man responsible for so much death and suffering stole the warmth from my blood. Was this how Kiera felt when she realized what I’d done?
“Before I have you slaughtered where you stand, boy, tell me where my gold is,” Weylin commanded.
I threw my head back and laughed. “What gold? There is no gold.” I stepped closer, my fingers tightening around my sword hilt, vengeance pumping through my veins. “Is that why you killed my father? For his gold?”
Weylin spat on the floor, his face turning purple with fury. “I don’t know who your gods-damned father is, boy. But I’m going to smear your blood all over this city for stealing my gold.”
I edged closer and closer to him. “Oh, but you did know my father, Weylin. You knew him well enough to understand the only way to kill him was to stab him in the back like the cowardyou still are. Then you ordered your dog to kill my mother. She died because of you. But not before she gave birth to your downfall.” I halted a sword-length away from him, my fists trembling with rage. “Me.”
All the blood drained from Weylin’s face, turning it ashen. “Falcryn. It can’t be.” He stumbled back a step, and I followed.
I held up my hand bearing my father’s ring, the light glinting off the gold. “I am Aiden Falcryn, and I will make you pay for your crimes,usurper.”
Weylin bellowed and slashed at me. I smoothly evaded and drove my heel into his ribs. He staggered back but kept his footing.
“You have no rights here,” he seethed. “You have no right to assassinate your king!I am your king!”
Red clouded my vision. “I have every right!” I roared, raising my sword and slicing downward to that gods-damned crown, but he dodged and scrambled away.
I stalked after him. “What right did you have to murder my family and steal their throne? What right did you have to butcher innocent Pravarans who dared to raise their voices under your oppression? What right did you have to torture and starve your own people to service your greed in that gods-damned prison mine?” I swung again, my sword whistling through the air an inch from his nose.
He snarled and stabbed at me. But I knocked his sword away. Then I attacked him with a flurry of blows that drove him against the wall. With one final swing, I hit the sword out of his hand, and it clattered to the marble floor, out of reach.
I dug the tip of my sword into the base of his sweaty throat. Blood welled. I stared at it, the first drops of my victory.
This was it. The moment I could finally end it all. Save Rellmira the pain of having this murderer as a king.
