“Because it wasn’t the truth.”
“It ismytruth.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.
“So you’re not going to tell me how you speak the language of Ophis Isle?”
“The same way most people learn languages,” he skirts.
I give up. “Fine. Don’t tell me. I’ll figure it all out on my own, eventually.”
He snickers. “Maybe sooner. If I let you live that long.” And he walks out the door, leaving it open as a clear invitation to follow.
We walk in silence for a long while, twisting and turning through a maze of tunnels until I’m sure he’s simply trying to disorient me. I’ve gathered that the Underground is just that: underground. Lanterns lining the walls of stone and mud light the way, their orange haze flickering in the breeze as we walk by.
There’s not a single soul around, but the chittering of a large crowd grows closer as we reach the end of a particularly long tunnel. I suddenly feel naked without my dagger.
We stop at a massive door fashioned out of wood and steel. Two sentries stand at attention on either side, and they nod to Raiden, who glances sideways at me before reaching to grab the handle.
I want to stop him. I want to run, afraid of the unknown that awaits within. Instead, I take a deep breath as I put up the walls in my mind. Nothing can touch me. Nothing can hurt me.
“Here we are,” he whispers as he pulls open the door.
On the other side is what I believe to be a throne room. It’s more of a cavern carved from shining black stone. Before us is a black velvet carpet that leads to a platform. People stand on either side of the carpet, filling the room. They all turn our way when the door shuts noisily behind us.
I look past them, their faces blurring into unrecognizable fuzz as my eyes find the man sitting on the simple chair carved out of the rock beneath it to look like a tree stump growing into the floor.
His russet brown hair is streaked with grays. He looks weathered and fierce, but I don’t miss the hint of tears glistening in those green eyes that mirror mine as my feet lead me closer to the front of the room.
My stomach lurches, and I think I may vomit, but I wrap my heart in a coffin of black stone that matches the room we’re in, steeling myself for whatever is coming.
It’s no longer puzzling to me how Raiden learned to speak my father’s native tongue. Nor is it a mystery that he calls me little snake; though it’s been a quarter of a century, and I was very young when mother burned the last of his photos I had hidden in my room, there is not a sliver of doubt that the man on the throne before me is undoubtedly my father. And he doesn’t look dead nor surprised to see me in the least.
Raiden
Most of us have made unimaginable sacrifices to be here, but none more than the man on the throne before me. I owe him everything. He left his family behind to run the Underground for me, not knowing it would mean losing so much. He does not leave the tunnels, and we do not speak of him above ground. In this way, we have managed to keep his family safe from suspicion.
My hand hangs less than an inch from the door. Even from out here, the laughter within reaches my ears. They’re so happy. Even with The Smog hovering, they’ve found joy. I debate, once again, whether I have any right to ask this of him.
My father’s voice in my head urges me forward, “Konnor is a good male. The only male I would trust to advise me in moments when ruling a kingdom weighs heavy.”
He is the only male I can trust. He will help me.
I rap on the door three times.
I was too young and much too angry to run the rebel forces on my own. And he was one of the only people I knew my father trusted. He agreed to be our leader but made me promise to watch over his wife and child. I agreed without hesitation. Neither of us could have known his daughter would capture my attention in such a way. Shame washes over me when I think about having to tell him. But that can wait.
I’ve never seen this force of a man cry, but his jade eyes that match Arina’s look to be on the verge of tears now.
He clears his throat before speaking. “Raiden has brought us a guest. I’m told she is a gifted healer.” Pride shines through him, and he is all but beaming at her. “She will be joining us, and I expect you to make her feel at home.”
“What if I don’t want to stay here?” she demands.
The instant the words leave her lips, the room erupts with angry shouts from all sides. These people,mypeople, do not tolerate disrespect. A chorus of demands and outrage rings in the air, and I swear some rubble falls from the ceiling. That’s unsettling.
“Quiet!” Konnor shouts, hitting his staff to the ground with two loud thuds, and silence blankets the Rhiza.
Konnor can control a crowd.
