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Authors: Kelly Walker

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BOOK: Broken Stone
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Emariya sank back in her chair. So her brother had something over Lord Damphries, making him do this. What, she didn’t know. But the others would surely recognize her father’s signature as authentic. She tried to force herself to be patient as the scroll was passed around the table, ending with Lord Calkirk.

Calkirk turned a puzzled frown toward her. “This does appear to be a forgery.”

What? How could they not recognize her own father’s signature. He’d led them for so many years.

Suddenly it made sense. “Lord Damphries must have switched it; the scroll I brought was real.”

Reeve sighed. “Emariya, please don’t make this more awful than it already is. You can’t honestly expect us to believe that Lord Damphries, a respected and trusted Councilor of Eltar, switched a document? Do you take us for impressionable, naïve women?”

Emariya bristled at the insult. “I take them for reasonable, level-headed leaders of our land who won’t be swayed by your lies!”

“My lies? You killed our father and I can prove it.”

A gasp rolled through the room.

“How so?” Ralston asked.

Lord Bosch chose that moment to suddenly take notice of his surroundings. “How so, how so?” he repeated, sounding quite pleased with his contribution.

“Master Blaine Hendel of Sheas, who has the authority to speak for his father, Rees Hendel, witnessed it. In exchange for our kind consideration, he has agreed to relate the tragic story of my father’s demise here for us today.” Reeve took his handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes.

“I thought witnesses weren’t allowed?” Emariya’s eyes darted to the candle as she willed herself to remain still, determined not to show fear.

“Only witnesses that support the claim of the Council. Be silent, traitor.” Reeve smirked. “Master Hendel, please. Come forward and repeat to the Council what you told me earlier.”

Blaine took slow, deliberate steps toward the table, stopping when he was standing next to Emariya’s chair. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught his face twisting into a calculated grin.

“Sorry, but that would be a lie. Truth is, Emariya’s father died from being weakened when you imprisoned him to take his place. Far as I can see, you’re his killer.”

While the rest of the Councilors sat in stunned silence, Old Man Bosch squinted at Blaine. “Wait, who died?”

Emariya resisted the urge to laugh. Reeve stood against her, while Blaine stood for her. What next, Garith would betray her?

“You said he would back us up,” Lord Damphries hissed at Reeve, so quietly Emariya almost couldn’t hear it. “I’m not going down for your plan.”

Lord Calkirk stood. “I believe we should recess this session, while we try and sort out—”

Reeve also jumped up from his chair. Lord Calkirk tried to grab his arm, but Reeve was too fast.

He crouched then sprang, leaping onto the table. In two strides he crossed it, stepping powerfully back to the floor where he lunged toward Blaine.

Emariya’s jaw dropped as chaos unfolded around her. Still shackled to the chair, she could do nothing without risking hurting her allies and she couldn’t even move out of the way. As Blaine and Reeve fought, they bumped into her chair, jarring her shoulder.

“Seize him!” Lord Damphries commanded, sending his guards into the fray.

As large as Blaine might be, he was no match for Reeve and two armed guards.

Terin, her face stricken, rushed to Reeve’s side.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Reeve silenced her with a glare. He did, however, keep his arm protectively around her. “Put them back in the dungeon.” He jerked his head toward Emariya and Blaine.

More Damphries guards spilled into the room, surging around the Council table. “Each of you, sit.

Our business is not done here,” Reeve growled.

Lord Calkirk’s drawn and worried face was the last sight Emariya caught before the door closed between them, but it would be Terin’s rush to Reeve’s side that stuck in her mind.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Shifting Perspectives

“At least they left me light this time,” Emariya told Blaine as the guards shut the dungeon door behind them. Once more she was locked in her cell, with Blaine for company. This time though, the walls felt closer, more confining. “What are you doing here?” Even knowing there was no way out, she couldn’t help scanning the cell for any weakness.

“I couldn’t leave you to face all this alone,” Blaine said stiffly.

Emariya studied his face, trying to determine if he was telling the truth. “When you came in, I thought for sure you had switched sides.”

“If I’ve switched sides, it is to be fully on your team. We aren’t enemies. Or, at least, I don’t want us to be.” Sincerity shone bright in his steady gaze.

“Why?” Emariya looked at the cold, dirty floor. She’d spent so many hours sitting on it the night before, her skin hadn’t yet stopped crawling.

“Do you know what it’s like, to be constantly compared to your parent?”

Emariya nearly choked on her laugh. “Oh, I don’t know... ‘she’s every bit her mother’s image,’ or

‘she’s Lady Valencia come again.’ Sound about right?”

Blaine tipped his head in acknowledgment. “It rests on my shoulders to make my father feel validated in his choice to remove leadership from the Roth line. In teaching me to constantly act deserving of the throne of Sheas, he’s made it seem like not having it would be the ultimate mark of failure, because he’d unseat me too if he had to. He’s drilled into me that I have to be better, smarter, stronger.”

“And less crazy?” Emariya couldn’t resist adding.

“Perhaps. But my father wasn’t wrong, Sheas did need strong leadership. And they’ve thrived under my father. But they fear him, and he’s encouraged that, otherwise they’d revolt.”

“Because he overthrew the Roths.”

“Yes. But you...well, if you can inspire loyalty in me, you can inspire loyalty in anyone. And that type of leadership is something I’d like to be a part of. You were right. Before, I mean. When you said that the people of Sheas would never be loyal to my father. But I want that for them, and I think we can achieve it with your help. But not if you die here.” Blaine gripped the cell bar, leaning against it, away from her. He’d not faced her as he spoke, but she didn’t need to see his face to hear how much he meant what he was saying.

“Did Jessa put you up to coming back in here?” Emariya asked, still trying to understand his change of heart.

“No, I never left. But she would have likely killed me if I came out without you.” Blaine shifted, letting go of the bars and facing her. The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he were struggling not to smile.

“Thanks,” Emariya said quietly. Unable to see an alternative except standing indefinitely, she resigned herself to sitting on the floor once more.

“We’re going to need a plan.” Blaine sat, leaning against the wall across from her. He shuffled, trying to arrange himself. Finally, he cocked one knee up, resting an elbow around it.

“Did Torian make it out?” Emariya tried not to be afraid of the answer. She’d heard the pounding earlier this morning, surely he must have. But where had the pounding gone? Had they given up on her? Closing her eyes, she strained her ears to listen. There it was, softer now, but still there. She must have stopped noticing it after hearing it for so long.

“Yes. Hear the pounding? That was the signal we agreed upon so you’d hopefully know he made it out, and was working to get back in. He wanted to give you hope.”

“Then he will be anxious to get back in to free us. But here is what I don’t understand. Why did they put us in here? Reeve seemed to have the Council under his control. Why not just be done with me?” Emariya bit her lip, slightly amused at how calmly she was able to discuss her own impending death.

“They need it to appear legitimate. They don’t know what the people at Warren’s Rest know, or what we in Sheas knew. It’s why they were so vulnerable to my ploy that I was willing to side with them. Alrec wants Sheas.”

Hearing Alrec’s name soured her mood even more. She’d disliked him when she met him at Castle Ahlen, but now, he’d risen rapidly to the top of the list of people she despised. “So that’s why they called the Council? To permanently discredit me?”

“That, and to witness Reeve marrying Terin. He wants that official, too, so that they will back his claim to the throne of Thalmas...”

“...Once he has Torian, his father, and me out of the way.” Emariya fought back rising panic.

“Exactly.” Blaine nodded.

“And after the Council has signed off on these things, Reeve will disband it, to lead Eltar, as well as the rest of The Corners, himself,” Emariya surmised. “Do you know why all the Councilors were wearing the same clothing? They never did before. Each wore their own colors, instead of Warren colors.”

“Reeve convinced them it was best to make it clear the Council still maintained loyalty to the Warrens if they were going to stand against you. He said it would make the tenants more comfortable, and help them deny your claims.”

“I wonder if the Councilors know they are on borrowed time.” Finding humor in knowing the Council was helping to bring about their own end kept her calm.

“I’m less worried about their borrowed time than I am our own.” Blaine looked toward the dungeon door.

“Lord Calkirk seemed sympathetic. Possibly Felton too. They might help us. But the others, why are they following my brother so blindly?”

“I think they are trying to stay in Reeve’s good graces. Alrec scares them. Hell, he scares me. They are hoping if they please Reeve, he will reward them. If they realize—and they must—that change is coming, they are hoping to retain some position of power.”

“I suspect they will be sorely disappointed.”

Blaine stood. “You’re probably right, but can we stop worrying about why the Council is doing what it is, and start trying to figure out what we are doing? How we are going to save ourselves?”

Emariya raised her arm, pointing to the sconces on the wall. “Fire.”

Blaine arched an eyebrow. “You know you’ll only get one chance. And you’ll have to time it right.

It wouldn’t do any good to unleash it before they unlock the cell.”

“I know. And I’d like to say I’ll mourn for anyone caught in the middle of it, but we have to work under the assumption that whoever comes through that door next won’t be friendly.”

“What will happen to the people gathered outside?”

Emariya bit her lip. “I don’t know. I thought the Council had forgotten them because of my brother’s failings. But now... I just don’t know how deep the deceptions go. When we rode through here before, it honestly looked as if the Council had forgotten the Uplands. I don’t blame them for being angry.”

“So, how will you fix it?”

At first Emariya thought he was taunting her, but then she thought about the sincerity in his voice.

“Well, there will have to be changes at the Council level, I just don’t know what.”

“I noticed that there were no spectators at the session. Is that normal?”

“Absolutely,” Emariya nodded. “Council sessions are closed-door. It’s the Councilors’

responsibility both to speak for their tenants and to report back about the decisions of the Council.”

“What keeps them from just reporting whatever they want? Where is the accountability?”

Hooking her arms around her knees, Emariya leaned her head back against the wall, trying not to think about what types of bugs and dirt might be getting in her hair. “I suppose there isn’t any.”

The pounding picked up again, as if it were coming through the walls behind her.

“Is that really getting louder?” Blaine asked.

“Possibly closer, too,” Emariya said warily, climbing to her feet.

A faint clanking sounded from the other side of the door. Emariya glanced toward the waiting candles, then back to the door, prepared for it to open.

“Remember,” Blaine whispered. “One chance only.”

“Give me your hand.” Emariya reached out and felt Blaine’s fingers entwine with hers. She wasn’t sure if using Blaine as an additional Stone would work the same as reaching out to her grandmother, but it couldn’t hurt. Her power had grown since she and Torian bound themselves, and she felt it surging through her, anxious and waiting.

Someone on the other side muttered a curse, and then the door creaked slowly inward.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Lost Invitations

The flames along the wall grew, dancing on their wicks. Blinking hard, Emariya asked the flame to shrink, not wanting to give away her plan before they’d unlocked her cell. Two guards hunched uneasily in the doorway. Their uniforms hung around their frames in an oddly familiar way. She didn’t think they were the same guards as before, but with the way the doorway shadowed their faces, it was hard to tell.

One of the guards tapped the other on the arm. “So I guess we should have locked them in a cell together sooner, if we wanted them to become friends.”

Emariya dropped Blaine’s hand. “Garith?!”

Garith stepped forward into the light, and Emariya breathed a sigh of relief. Torian, right on Garith’s heels, met her eye.

“Torian!” she cried, reaching her hand through the bar toward him, desperately wanting to make sure he was real. He squeezed her hand, and then looked to Garith.

“Can you hurry with those keys?” Torian turned his attention back to Emariya, giving her a tight smile. “You didn’t really think we’d leave you in here did you?”

The immense amount of comfort Emariya drew just by having him near almost made her sobs. She realized some of the power she’d felt surging hadn’t been from the flames at all, but from Torian’s nearby presence.

“How did you get in here?” Blaine asked, quickly adding, “Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

A third figure appeared in the dungeon doorway.

“Torian, look out!” Emariya yelled.

Torian dropped her hand and spun, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

“Ello, Milady. Don’cha worry, we’ll have you out of here in no time at all.” Rink flashed her a childish grin before glaring at Garith. “Do I have to do everything? What’s taking you so long?”

Garith slammed his fist against the bars. “You’re more than welcome to give it a try. I can’t find the right key!”

BOOK: Broken Stone
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ads

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