“They cut down Lucan’s Tree and left it as a tortured stump in the middle of the Pith,” I say.
The executioner startles. “Oh?”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“I have felt the screams at night.”
The building quakes, thunders, as if a mountain is coming down.
“The king is on his way to kill me.”
“Will he change his mind like he did with Lila?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then let’s kill you first so that he cannot.”
I lock gazes with the executioner, and his eyes flicker from amber to violet to amber beneath his hood. From my father’s eyes to Maxian’s to my father’s once more.
“Your fear is shifting,” he says. “Yet you hesitate.”
“Any creature would.”
“Three months ago, your soul ached to be taken. Now you sit on the throne with power pouring from your eyes. Golden, like the king.”
Or perhaps he is golden like me. Like a faerie.
I redirect. “Why didn’t you take my soul?”
“I do not believe in early deaths.”
“Only late ones?”
“I do not believe in death at all.”
The cloaked figure steps onto the dais. Only then do I realize I again grip the throne.
“You jest,” I say, moving back.
“No,” he says. “At least, not in the sense that the other Houses understand it.”
The tapestry of the earthly plane thunders to the floor, slapping against the marble tiles.
“He grows closer,” I say. “I do not have time for riddles.”
“Then maybe a short, simple truth. Before the Dark Rebellion, the Houses went by different names. My House was known as the House of Cycles.”
My brows raise. “What of the other Houses?”
“House of Reign was known for Control, House of Healing for Change, and House of Illusion for Creation. The four elements of magic.”
How do we know so little about magic?
Because it’s easier for them if we do not know,Kass had said.
“Well, I don’t feel like being cycled into nothing tonight, but thanks for the offer,” I say.
“You could always take the Desert Walk.”
