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Authors: Megan Derr

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Prisoner (31 page)

BOOK: Prisoner
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"Yes, Highness." The girl bobbed a hasty nod, eyes flitting back toward the door, back to the prince, then to the floor.

"Is all well?"

"Y-yes, Highness." She did the eye thing again.

Matthias frowned. "Then what's wrong?"

She looked up, and he realized it wasn't fear as he'd thought—it was fear mixed with hate. "My father died fighting him, Highness."

"Of course," Matthias said. "If it troubles you, then have another girl tend him. I've given permission, if anyone challenges you."

The girl bobbed her head and started to go, shoulders sagging with relief. "But Beki—" He caught her eyes as she turned back to him. "Remember that your father killed Krians; the war is not one-sided." Beki nodded, but it was a stiff gesture, and she neglected to curtsy as she fled.

Matthias sighed. At least she hadn't tried anything foolish. He made a note to speak with Esta later on the matter; she always dealt with those sorts of things far better than he. He knocked on the door, then pushed it open.

At first, it looked as though the room was empty, then he saw Dieter by the window and wondered how he'd missed him. Perhaps because he held so still. "Even at my craziest," he said, "I never thought I would be welcoming the Wolf of Kria into my palace."

Dieter turned away from the window and regarded him in silence. Matthias stared back. More than a few tales abounded about the Wolf. A hulking brute with red eyes and an insatiable lust for blood. A terrifying monster who did not understand the concept of mercy. A hard, cold general who bore the mark of the Krian god of death and whose own men feared him.

Quite a bit different from a man who was simply large when compared to the Illussor tendency toward slenderness. His skin was weathered by a life spent outdoors—no doubt he was also well-branded with marks of war. If Matthias ever felt suicidal he would call those pale, gray-green eyes pretty. Never had he been so painfully aware of his own pampered life in the palace. Certainly it wasn't easy to be the crown prince, but he bet it was nothing compared to what this man had lived through.

"I doubt you are half as confused as I," Dieter said.

Matthias laughed. "Does that mean you will not elaborate on the reasons for your being here? Your companions seemed somewhat reticent."

Dieter grinned, and Matthias could not help but think it wolfish. He was starting to sound like the soldiers. "That is because none of them really wanted me along. Unexpected events forced our hands."

"No one is going to tell me, are they?"

"It is a boring story, Highness. Did you come here for a purpose, or merely to gauge how much trouble I am going to be?"

"A purpose. Esta might think all I do is laze about the palace, but that's only because I don't raise a ruckus the way she does." Matthias motioned him forward. "Having you here is already upsetting a great many people; I'm sure I don't have to elaborate on why."

Dieter shrugged. "What is your purpose?"

"Given all I've heard, I expected something a bit different than quiet compliance."

"I'm a soldier," Dieter replied, as if that explained everything. Perhaps it did.

"Come with me," he said. "There are things I would like to show you before I make my proposal." He glanced at the sword hanging at Dieter's hip. "You're welcome to wear that, though I'd prefer you not draw it if you do not absolutely have to."

Dieter's face flickered with anger for a moment then it was blank again. "I fight soldiers, not civilians."

"Of course, I meant no offense." Matthias said carefully. "I meant simply that seeing you is enough to terrify, not that you would hurt anyone, though I hear plenty of stories about the rampaging beast you can be."

There seemed to be no reply forthcoming. Matthias sighed. Talking to Dieter was much like talking to his father—except his father was silent from listlessness. Dieter seemed more like bottled fury—a wolf in a cage. Matthias mentally rolled his eyes at himself. It really was all too easy to associate Dieter with the beast. "Come." He led the way from the room and through the palace. He was painfully aware of his inadequacies next to the man beside him, and was tempted briefly to use the quartz in his pocket to mask them, but Dieter proved far more useful at ensuring they were undisturbed. Matthias lost count after the tenth person who suddenly found a different hallway to be in.

It was almost funny. Well, people would have time to become accustomed. If Kria, for whatever reason, had been stupid enough to lose their Wolf, Matthias was not going to give them a chance to take him back.

They continued out the back door of the palace and through the garden and the hidden door at the end of it. No one was about, for which Matthias was grateful. Ordering people out of the garden was always awkward.

The stairs were as dark as ever, the smell of damp and mildew and smoke from the torches pungent. After so many visits, he did not require light. He walked the length of the tunnel from memory; he had not used a torch to light the way since they'd taken his brother to his death.

The tunnel was still ominous, and if it bothered him, he winced to think what it must do to Esta. He still wished he'd been able to take that duty from her, but Esta held it as dear as her mother and grandmother had. It was their burden.

Matthias sighed softly, limping alongside Dieter, embarrassed but grateful that Dieter kept pace without comment. What he would give to have the Wolf's strength— He shoved the dangerous thought aside. Dwelling on past mistakes did no good. Better to focus on the ones that could be fixed. They had the Breaker, and now hopefully, he could take care of the last remaining loose end of that problem.

"So what dirty secret is kept here?"

Matthias laughed ruefully. "However did you guess? You'll see in a bit, but I will tell you it is why we need your friend Beraht."

"Beraht is no friend of mine," Dieter said coldly.

"My apologies then," Matthias said and bit down on his curiosity. "Should I keep you two separated? I had not realized it was genuine antagonism."

"If you want to keep the peace, sew his mouth shut." Dieter's voice was cool, but Matthias could hear an underlying frustration beneath it.

They continued on in silence for several minutes. There was no indication as to when and where the tunnel ended. More than once Matthias had nearly walked into the door, too absorbed in the rhythm of walking to realize that he should have stopped. By now, though, his feet knew when to halt. Matthias pulled his keys out and swung the door open.

He hated the room, not least of all because it was his little brother who occupied it. Dead, and lost forever to anchoring and spreading the magic that was killing the people it had been intended to help. Matthias reached out a hand to touch his brother, but stopped just short of doing so. It would achieve nothing. He let his hand drop and spread his arms to indicate the room. "Welcome to the Crystal Chamber."

"Breath of the Autumn Prince—" Dieter said. "What is this?"

"Do you know why our three countries fight over the Regenbogen?"

Dieter shrugged his immense shoulders, the jacket found and hastily fitted for him barely enduring the movement. "I fought to keep it in Kria's possession. Salhara wants it for its arcen-rich fields. No one knows why Illussor wants it."

"It belonged to Illussor once," Matthias said. "Kria took it from us nearly a century ago. I could not tell you why, but I know from records that it used to belong to Illussor. Back when that was not our name." He frowned, staring at a section of crystal on the far wall. If not for the corpse-like figure in the center, the crystal and strange light flooding the room might have been beautiful. As it was, it only gave him nightmares. "These days, we fight mostly to keep the rest of you out of our country and to search for the Breaker—though few realize that, and those who do understand very little of what or why."

He was surprised when Dieter nodded. "You do not intend to tell them why until after the deed is done."

"Yes—mostly because of the council. They already dislike me; I do not need them undermining me further."

"Why do they dislike you?" Dieter asked, folding his arms.

Matthias shrugged. "I am not my father, and that makes them uncomfortable." He grinned. "Not that it matters. They'll be cleaned out soon enough. Not having magic will set them on their ears, and they'll have no choice, but to listen to me. Which brings us back around to my intended purpose for you." He motioned to his brother. "When the Breaker shatters the spell in this room, my people will have no magic. At all. Even before the Crystal Chamber, we had some. Like Salhara, it is our way of life. Kria is different. Your country has always eschewed magic, for whatever reasons."

The look Dieter gave him made Matthias feel as if he were back in the nursery with a tutor whose patience had been sorely tried. "Magic is lazy and weak. It allows a man to rely on outside sources to do his work for him."

"I see," Matthias said. "I disagree, but that is neither here nor there. What matters is that I'm about to strip my people of something they've always had." He motioned to his leg. "I will be crippling them. Which means that should we become involved in yet more fighting—which I am hoping to avoid—my men will have no idea what to do."

Comprehension flashed in Dieter's eyes. "You are insane."

"Royalty is often accused of being so, but I am egotistical enough to say that I do not think a sane man would rule a country."

Dieter grunted. "Then you are stupid. If one serving girl does not bother to hide her hatred of me, I do not think setting me to train your soldiers is a very good idea. You are either indeed quite stupid or desperate."

"Desperate, I assure you." Matthias smiled, feeling tired. "I have been struggling over how to help my country relearn to live, and the lives of my soldiers and those living closest to the border have been high on my list of worries. I'm not stupid; people hate you. According to all my reports and every last far-fetched story heard from soldiers, you are all too good at what you do. The Scarlet Wolf. The Bloody Wolf. The Wolf of Kria. More often than not, you are called simply the Wolf." His smile turned suddenly into a grin. "Though I often hear far more colorful names for you as well. While I'm not looking forward to the headaches that are forthcoming for doing this, I would be even more stupid to let a war no one understands keep me from gaining the general who has ever so neatly fallen right into my lap."

Matthias paused and stared at his brother. "I could go abroad for teachers. Goddess only knows those coastal bastards know how to use a sword." He looked back at Dieter, pale eyes intent. "But Kria has turned combat into an art. You are, by some strange chance, here when I most need one such as you. I assume your country no longer has need of you—or at least I doubt they still hold your loyalty…"

"No, they do not." Dieter's voice said he would not elaborate.

"Then whatever I can do to convince you to help me, I will do it. You've only to say."

Gray-green eyes watched him, pale and muted in the strange light of the chamber. "What should a soldier think of a king so eager to hire an enemy? What should a king think of a man so willing to betray his own country?"

Matthias grinned. "I wouldn't know. I'm neither a soldier nor a king. I'm a scheming prince who must do the best he can. Anyway, it's obvious Iah trusts you. That's enough for me, though I do wish someone would tell me
why
you're here."

"I will help," Dieter said. "At worst, I will simply be put to death again. If you want my assistance, however, you must allow me to do things my way."

Matthias looked at him, then at his sword, then back up. "I have no idea how to even hold that thing. Swords, to me, are an exotic weapon used by an enemy with a peculiar taste for blood." He sighed. "I'm pretty sure you just told me I'll be getting more headaches, but so be it." His lips twitched. "I'll use them to explain away my bouts of insanity."

"If this stunt does not dethrone you for insanity, Highness, nothing will."

"You may as well call me Matthias."

Dieter looked at Matthias' brother, frozen in the center of the chamber. "So what is this?"

"He's all that's left of my younger brother. His name was—is—Benji. The royal line has always borne the burden of providing Keepers. The magic is strongest in us. Do you know anything about Illussor magic?"

"Only that it's supremely annoying and cowardly."

Matthias winced. "Our powers include manipulation, yes, but that's not the primary focus of our powers. You will not see it here, as the palace renders most people incapable—ironic when the source of that magic lies here. Regardless, the power behind those abilities relies heavily on our minds. We are… linked, I suppose you could say. When it's strong enough we can even read each other's thoughts. That is how we muster the energy for a Scream: all the power goes to one person. Even before we became the Illussor that was how we functioned. It is through that ability that we were able to create all this. It is through the Keeper, Benji, that the power created in this chamber is sent to everyone else."

He shifted his weight, both legs getting sore from the effort of standing so long. Unfortunately, there would be no chance to rest when he got back. Matthias stifled a sigh. "It was only meant to last a generation or so and primarily in soldiers. Unfortunately, it spread further and deeper than anyone meant or realized until too late, and we cannot simply stop it—we've grown used to it. To take it away would be like ripping off a limb."

BOOK: Prisoner
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