Page 132 of Under Restless Skies

“Who’s they?” I finally ask.

“All the people who govern this kingdom. I’m part of it, yes, but I’m not the king. It’s why I’ve tried to tell you that this place is dangerous. Now that you’ve seen death from up close, would you consider leaving? I can secure passages for you and Kaio to Cainara. This would be my suggestion. Forget this place. Forget even the prince. We don’t even know if he’s the real prince, and if he’s not, his head will roll. When it does, it might bring yours with it. Plus, he cannot be trusted. We have investigated his past, Mayara, and there is strong evidence that he was a petty thief and maybe even a murderer.”

I know he was a thief, but I don’t mention it. Instead, I say, “It doesn’t change who he is.”

“Does it not? Do you want to marry a murderer? If you even get that far. Who’s to say the king will let this betrothal go through? He could decide to assassinate you instead. Foolish girl! I’m trying to save you. I did everything I could to keep you from this dreadful place, but no. What’s with this insistence, Mayara? What do you think you’ll achieve here?”

I’m trying to digest his words when the truth of them hits me. “You! You were the one who didn’t let me join the academy.”

“Obviously. And yet you still don’t understand why.” His voice drips poison.

Tears pool in my eyes again. “I do understand why.” The admission twists something inside me, breaks some part of me. “I know what happens to recruits and sentinels, but why isn’t anyone told about it? And who are you to even care? Why?”

He narrows his eyes, his voice quiet. “Mayara, what exactly do you know about what happens to recruits? Everyone knows they die. You would have known that.”

My insides freeze. I can’t believe I gave away my secret. At the same time, part of me wants to yell at him, wants to yell and yell and yell about the horror I saw. I remain quiet, my body stiff.

He repeats, “What. Did. You. Find out?”

“People die,” I mutter, looking down, and it seems to annoy him.

Mallor gets up, his countenance agitated. “You have a magic key, right?”

“Magic?”

“Master key, whatever. Did you happen to go anywhere on top of the castle?”

“Auranius’ lair, yes.” I’m sick of pretending, sick even of stuffing it all inside me, keeping it to myself. “Where he eats people. They don’t even have the dignity of a shroud, nothing. They’re sent naked to that place, where fetid, putrid bodies linger. Feet, hands, hair. The acolytes don’t even wait for the bodies to cool, don’t even give them the dignity of a prayer. It’s horrific. Is that what we are? Food for Auranius?”

Mallor takes a deep breath and sits down again. “Yes. Yes, Mayara.”

Yes? That’s it, then? A sob escapes my lips. “Why? They don’t deserve it. Celine was kind, studious, she loved our kingdom… Why?”

His eyes contract, sadness and worry marring them. “It’s what Auranius eats, what he needs to grow that big, to live that long. Young people, preferably. Not children; they wouldn’t sustain him, but young people, between eighteen and thirty, let’s say. He prefers them warm, yes.” He swallows. “In fact, ideally, he prefers them… alive.”

I feel like puking, as I remember Cynthia’s friend. “Are they at least sedated, something?”

“I assume so, or they’d scream on their way up. Are they still sedated when Auranius finally gets to them? I don’t know. I’m not privy to the acolytes’ secrets. Nobody really is, in fact. Do you know how they recruit acolytes?” He doesn’t wait for my reply and continues, “Illiterate men, sometimes petty criminals, with no living relatives. They first double check that they truly can’t read or write. Once they’re hired, their tongues are cut. That’s their vow of silence. To be fair, at least they’re informed in advance, and accept the price.”

“Why?”

“Have you taken a look at our kingdom? At its poverty? Desperation? Ships with gold and precious stones dock here, while our people starve. A famished man will give up his tongue.”

My stomach revolves and my head spins.

He leans forward, his eyes fixed on me. “You think that’s all? The rot runs deep in the kingdom. Do you know how recruits or sentinels are selected to fly when the attacks happen?”

As far as I know, local commanders pick names at random, so it depends on luck, but I’m imagining there’s more to it. “How?”

“Random luck.” His voice drips with sarcasm. “Except it’s not random. It’s either sticks, but they know which ones are marked at the bottom, or pebbles, or any other way that lets them decide who gets to stay safe and who gets to jump. Sentinels will find themselves trading favors for safety. All kinds of favors, Mayara. They might also be forced to provide services, or else their name will be next.”

I swallow, unwilling to even picture the horrors the sentinels go through.

Mallor taps on the table. “There’s also an abundance of star nectar in the outposts, ensuring recruits are numb, complacent, and docile. Now, I don’t have any say in the Sky Guard and cannot control any of that. I can’t even stop the star nectar parties happening among recruits. All I can do is try to dissuade some of them from staying here, get them expelled when I can, and yet most people have nothing else to turn to. But you don’t need to remain in this rot. Why did you even insist on joining this place?”

“It’s not like any of that’s public knowledge.”

“Of course not. Anyone spreading such rumors will find themselves taken to Auranius’ lair—hopefully already dead. Now you, you’ve seen far too much. If anyone even suspects you know what you know, your life will be in danger. Whatever happens, whatever you choose, don’t ever mention a word of what I told you, a word of what you saw, not even to your best friend. You can’t guarantee they won’t tell it to their friend or even lover in a night of stupor. You can’t tell anyone.”