“It’s surrounded by a glass dome, but yes.” Mikail speaks as though it’s nothing unusual. When we all just continue to blink at him, he chuckles and adds, “It was built by the gods.”
Another impossible riddle. How do we get inside an underwater temple?
I sit back in my chair and run my hands over my hair. I spin the long, thick strands. There’s yet another complication. There’s always another. Too many. Every time I think I have my head wrapped around something, I don’t.
Euyn wipes his mouth with a napkin and then tosses it down. “Are we going to talk about the person who betrayed all of us, or are we planning to just let it go?”
I’m…honestly not sure if he means Mikail or Aeri, the latter of whom has paused with her fork halfway to the kimchi.
Mikail finishes his ale, then says, “You’re awfully bold now thatyoursecrets are out.”
Euyn pales but lifts his chin. “Why did you try to destroy the crown?”
All of us are silent as we wait for the spymaster to respond. I’ve wondered the same thing since I saw him slice the replica crown in half in the arena.
“You didn’t need it to be king,” Mikail says, waving his hand.
It’s not really an answer.
“But why try to break it?” Euyn presses. “Joon said you destroyed the decoy.”
Mikail stares into his lover’s eyes. “Because no person should be immortal. Even you. Especially not you. The power of the crown allows your brother to hide behind the walls of Qali without a care for how his rule affects the people of Yusan, the people of Gaya, or Khitan, or Wei. And you once felt invincible, as did Omin. What did the two of you do? You hunted and murdered for your own amusement, while he assaulted young girls. Nothing good comes from the Baejkins having unlimited power.”
The tension in this room is so thick, it’s suffocating. There’s not a sound until a chair scrapes the floor.
“We’ll see Vikal tomorrow,” Aeri says, and then she rushes out of the room.
I’m not sure what has upset her, but it’s enough to know she’s near tears. I know exactly what it feels like when your chin quivers because you’re fighting so hard not to cry out. I push my chair back and follow her, not only to check on her, but because I need to leave the room as well. I’m aching to wring Euyn’s neck at the mention of him hunting people like my father.
As I reach the door, I have a moment of clarity. Euyn won’t be any better than King Joon, and I refuse to trade tyrants. Someone else will have to sit on the black serpent throne, and I have an idea.
Chapter Seven
Tiyung
Idle Prison, Yusan
I’m not certain how long I’ve been in this dungeon. It could be only a few days or maybe a full sunsae. I rub my growing beard. From my scruff, I think it’s been at least a week.
There’s no sunlight in here, which is to be expected in a prison under a lake. But there are also no bells. No normal routine. No way to mark the passing of time.
It’s maddening but better than death. So far.
When the guards pulled me from the palace and walked me to the water’s edge, I thought maybe I wasn’t going to prison at all. As I waited, I feared I’d be fed to the iku—the monstrous creatures that inhabit the deep water of Idle Lake. I prayed to the gods to save Sora and to have mercy on my soul.
I hope they answered the first prayer because they didn’t seem to hear the second.
As the guards held me by the shore, stone walls rose through the surface of the mirror lake. The water receded and a black staircase came into view, leading all the way down to a door in the lake floor—the entrance to Idle Prison. The most secure place in all of Yusan.
It looked like the gateway to the Ten Hells.
With my head high, I forced myself to walk down the steps and not suffer the indignity of being dragged. I looked up as I descended, trying to savor the purples and oranges of the sunset, to remember the daylight, but it hasn’t done much good. Sunlight and hope are now distant memories. I promised Sora I would make it through anything, yet I’ve learned it’s far easier to spout brave sayings than to live them.
Not that I’ve had to be brave. Not exactly. I thought I would be tortured when the prison doors closed. Instead, I’ve been left to rot in a circular, smooth stone cell. It’s a different kind of torment—to be completely alone with nothing but my thoughts. I haven’t spoken to another human being since I was placed inside here. Sometimes, I hear the wails of other men. I have called out, but I must be too far away for anyone to answer me.
Or no one cares.
My cell is large but dark and dank. There’s a transom window around thirty feet off the ground, but it casts almost no light in here. The only light I do have is from the oil torches in the hall, visible through a six-inch meal slot.
