Emere burst into forced laughter. “Lysandros isdead. I saw his corpse rolling down Finvera Pass like a rotten log with my own eyes.”
Ludvik slapped Emere with his gauntleted hand. Emere clenched his jaws in response, but he felt a sharp, stunning sting of teeth breaking.
“Never speak his name like that again! The Grand Inquisitor appeared in my dreams several times, giving me clear signs and instructions. That I must decide the destiny of the Empire, that if I didn’t”—Ludvik took a step forward, shoving his mustached face close to Emere’s—“a provincial upstart, some half-wit prince, would instead.”
Emere considered spitting his loose teeth and blood in Ludvik’s face, but the sight of Ludvik’s eyes made him lose the will to do so. His face was earnest and truthful, yet his eyes had, beyond the cover of conviction and passion, a glint that could only be madness.
“If all you say is true, wouldn’t it be easier to kill me, here and now?”
Ludvik laughed. “Despite what the Grand Inquisitor told me, I don’t think you actually have it in you to decide the destiny of the world, don’t you agree? You frittered away your life doing nothing but wandering—built nothing, accomplished nothing, became nothing. You are not even the enemy of the world, just a bridge to the true enemy. Which begs the question.”
Ludvik’s stare was piercing. His first question, ever since this tedious interrogation began. The dread in Emere’s heart felt like ice.
“Where,” asked Ludvik, “is King Loran?”
Emere dared not breathe. Ludvik gestured behind him. The tall inquisitor passed a goblet of water into Ludvik’s hand.
“You must be parched. Drink this before answering,” he said, lifting the cup up to Emere’s lips. “Where is Loran?”
Emere turned his head away from the cup. “I don’t know. Arland, I suppose.”
Ludvik withdrew the cup and clucked his tongue. “Emere, Emere… Let’s be honest with each other. We know Loran is in the Capital. One doesn’t have to be the Office of Truth to deduce that you’ve met with her.”
Emere didn’t know how much more time he could buy, or if anything could even be got from trying to buy time, but Cain’s instructions to not give Ludvik what he wanted rang in his ears.
“Why do you want to know?” he asked.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t believe me if I told you, but the Grand Inquisitor showed me a future. One where Loran had turned the whole of the world into a wasteland, where not a single blade of grass had survived. Like Mersia. That is what I am trying to prevent. That is what a world without the Empire is!”
Emere’s laugh emerged from his battered body like a cough. “Her Majesty would never do that. And she doesn’t even have the means to do so. No one person has.”
“Could you have imagined that a single person could bring down a gigatherion?”
Ludvik nodded at the inquisitor, who untied Emere from the pole. Emere tried to remain standing, but his hands and feet were still tied together, and he had no strength in his limbs. He soon collapsed without the pole supporting him. Ludvik bent down and offered him the cup of water again.
“Your friend, that Ebrian. Rakel, is that her name? We promise no harm will come to her, or your sister, or Kamori. I can even recommend a more important role for you in the Commons, a position that matters. But you must answer my question, for the good of the Empire. For the good of the world.”
It wasn’t that Emere couldn’t see Ludvik’s logic. In his own twisted and callous way, the man was acting according to reason. Perhaps he was even right—if the Empire was the world, as he claimed, the end of the Empire might mean the end of the world.
But there would always be one thing Emere could never bend on no matter the threat. He moved his barely mobile arms to grab the cup, gulp it down, and speak as if he were speaking his final words.
“I would never betray King Loran.”
The two men locked gazes for a long time. Emere’s defiant, Ludvik’s searching. A deep frown appeared on Ludvik’s face and he slapped Emere once more with his heavy gauntlet.
“A pathetic excuse of a man you are. A man who has never believed in anything in his life. Isn’t that why you’ve wasted it away? You traveled to uncover the nature of the Star of Mersia?I’mthe one who discovered it. You brought together a rebel army in Kamori for your people? The sum of what you’ve done pretending to be amolein your little underground warren isnothingcompared to what Loran achieved in just half a year. If you had believed in anything, even in the smallest of hopes, and did something about it, you would not have ended up here. But I believe in the Empire. I believe in the noble destiny that it shall bring peace to the world and watch over it for eternity. And I shall make this destiny happen by becoming the Imperator.”
The sky suddenly lit up with blue light. Ludvik looked up. A glaringly bright blue star crossed the sky as it descended, reminding Emere of the dragon’s blue light that he had seen in Arland.
Despite his bruised jaw and broken teeth, despite the pain and the blood, Emere couldn’t suppress a grin. The grin grew into chuckles, then outright laughter. He tried to control it, for he needed to speak.
“Councillor Ludvik, I… I also believe in something. I have, all my life.”
Ludvik stared up at the sky, his agape mouth forming words in Tythonian. The blue star fell upon the fort with an explosive impact. Ludvik covered his face from the blast, but a fraction of a second later, a chunk of broken brick hit his chest. The sound, the light, and the blast deafened and blinded Emere.
“… an alliance!”
It was Rakel’s voice. Had he lost consciousness? He was lying outside, still tied up.
