CHAPTER 16 : TO STEAL A KING (PART 2) - FLASHBACK

“The sun rises each morning, the stars watch over us each night, and his heart beats at the center of the world. As the Endless goes on, so must its King. So swear we.” ~Oracle Hahl, Sermon of the Eternal Flame

“Repeat as required.”

LYARA

“How is he?”

“It was worse than last month’s,” Veperal whispers, “they had to knock him out.”

We hide within the shadow of a rose-quartz column. The throne room is packed with worshippers lining up to speak to the King Initiate. It weaves across the floor like a restless snake.

Egg sits on his throne. The back curves up and in, like a set of gold pincers. Its extravagant size makes him look like a small child by contrast.

He is still just a child, I remind myself.

Egg braces his elbow on one armrest, tucks his chin into his hand, and does his best to pay attention to a pair of satyrs dressed in their finest gowns. They curtsy and giggle, one even twirls her goatee and flutters her eyelashes.

Many pilgrims have traveled across the Clouds, more and more with each passing day. I watch their faces as they murmur to each other about the decadence of the room, the velvet tapestries, the sweet smell of orchids in the air.

The crowning looms within a year now, and the excitement of the people grows stronger. Only one crowning per lifetime, and few are lucky enough to witness it.

My gaze returns to Egg, who dismisses the satyrs politely and greets a noble from the Amethyst Isle. The man’s hat is almost as tall as him, and he has to hold it to keep from falling while he bows.

I bite my lip. Egg’s skin is pale as paper, and his cheeks, despite the rosy pigment painted on them, are gaunt.

“He’s not eating either,” Veperal adds, following my eyes, “he can’t keep anything down.”

“I know. I—”

“Esteemed servants need not lurk in dark corners,” a hollow voice says behind us.

Both our backs stiffen at the same time.

Slowly, we turn around.

Silk Sister Needle towers above us. Her hands are clasped together, wrapped in the same gold silk that covers her mountainous body. The fabric moves like a liquid, as if it really were made from molten gold.

Veperal bows his head, mumbles that he has drinks to serve, and makes a quick exit.

Traitor.

I force myself to match her mask’s eternal smile, teeth creaking. “I was just admiring the many beautiful gowns, Sister Needle.”

“Is that so?” She tilts her head.

I swallow a lump in my throat and hope my hands are not trembling. “Yes.”

“I see. So many nobles today, and from so far away. I suppose they cannot resist basking in our Initiate King’s light.” She pauses. “He glows brighter by the day, don’t you think?”

“He is luminous.” I curtsy. “Please excuse me, I must prepare the Endless King’s evening bath.” I turn to leave, but stop so suddenly I nearly fall over.

Silk Sister Needle now stands in front of me, as if she’s always been there.

A chill runs down my trunk. I didn’t even see her move.

She’s fast.

She steeples her fingers together and leans forward, arching over me. “I just wanted to say...”

The leaves in my hair shake, but I root my feet into the marble floor. If only we were not so high in the air. On the ground I could handle this monster, but here I am weak.

“Thank you.”

I blink and drop my guard, surprised. “For what?”

“Watching over our new King, of course.”

She touches my shoulders and turns me around to face Egg once again. He spots us and his eyes light up. He offers a small wave.

Pain twists inside my chest. I wave back, forcing a smile.

Needle’s chin slinks over my shoulder, and her mask nearly touches my cheek. I can feel the cold emanating from beneath her silk cloak. She is not of the soil.

Not anymore.

“Your tender care of our King has not gone unappreciated. A happy vessel makes the transition so much...smoother.”

My heart pounds inside my trunk. “Anything for the Endless, Silk Sister.” I whisper.

She releases me and I take my leave, ducking through a hidden serving doorway behind a tapestry of the Fourth Endless King. The moment I escape her gaze, I lift my chin and square my shoulders.

The sap in my veins flows with renewed strength.

It has to be tonight.

EGG

I am having a wonderful dream about flying my valiant, winged steed into battle when I am rudely shaken awake.

“Wha—? What’s going on?” I blink the sleep from my eyelids. “Lyara?”

She presses her finger to my lips and grabs my hand, pulling me out of bed. “We haven’t much time,” she whispers. “Follow me.”

Blearily, I slip my bare feet into my silk slippers. “Are those merchants on Sapphire Street throwing another tantrum? I already adjusted taxes once—Lyara? Where are you going?”

Instead of going to the door, she scurries to the balcony where we sometimes drink our morning tea. The ceiling-high glass panels are unlocked and propped open, and the breeze makes me shiver.

“I’m in my nightgown,” I hiss, rubbing my arms.

“Egg. Now.”

I blink, affronted. I’ve never heard Lyara take that tone with me before.

She sighs and tiptoes back to kneel down in front of me. She holds my hands in her own, eyes full of sadness.

Now I’m really worried. What is going on?

“Egg, the....the truth is...”

Why is she looking at me like that? Like I’m a bird without wings and she’s about to kick me out of the nest.

The words finally tumble out of her. “The oracles were wrong.”

My brow knits together. “About the weather again? That’s nothing new.”

“No. About...about...you.”

“I don’t understand,” I say slowly.

“You’re not the Endless King. You’re...you’re just Egg.”

I yank my hands away from her. “No, that’s...I’m definitely the King. I’m supposed to be the King. The crowning—”

“Cannot happen to you. Not ever.”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The world starts to spin, and I can hear blood rushing behind my ears. But Lyara is dragging me by the elbow onto the balcony.

The sky is missing.

Pale clouds have risen to encompass Starfloat in a cold, swirling fog. Not far away is a distant, rhythmic whooshing sound.

“The clouds are never this high...” I whisper, eyes wide.

Which is a stupid thing to say. I should be shaking Lyara by the shoulders and demanding answers.

I must be in shock or something.

It’s not because a small part of you knows it’s true—that you’ve always doubted you were good enough to be the King—that a grain of doubt has lingered at the back of your mind for years—wondering when this fantasy would be ripped away from you—

No. Definitely shock. That’s the one and only reason.

The muffled sound grows louder. A black-clad rider on a black winged horse emerges from the clouds and lands on the balcony. The horse rears its neck and paws at the air with its hoof.

Lyara hands the rider a small pouch. “Go far,” she whispers, petting the horse, “be fast.”

“I’m not leaving.” I cross my arms and plant my feet firmly on the ground. I would look much more threatening if I wasn’t wearing a nightgown and slippers, but I hope the effect is the same.

“Egg...”

“I’m the King! I am. They chose me. They can’t just change their minds—”

“Egg—”

“Patrol will be by soon,” the rider says, voice gruff behind his headwrap, “we need to go.”

“No. I refuse to leave. I will not just—”

“They’ve already found your replacement!” she blurts out.

I falter. “What...?”

“You heard me,” she says, voice shaking. “Show some dignity and leave tonight. Don’t make the Skyguard drag you out in front of half the court in the morning.”

“But...”

“Haven’t you noticed the treatments getting worse?” She stalks forward, growing in confidence. “Your body is rejecting the ichor. You were a mistake, Egg. That’s all.”

Tears freeze on my eyelashes.

Lyara always tells me the truth. She’s the one servant I know I can trust.

Dejected, I hang my head. “Oh.”

She hugs me, squeezing tightly. “Be safe, Egg.” She holds me out at arm’s length. “And never come back.”

EGG

The ride is cold.

We’re flying far faster than I think necessary, and keeping within the camouflage of the clouds. I’m soaked through my nightgown, and I’ve lost a slipper to the wind.

We don’t stop until daylight breaks, where we duck down into a thick pine forest. The sky is barely visible through the canopy. The rider, who refuses to tell me his name, forces us to walk.

“Where are we going?” I try to ask, but he merely grunts in response.

“Don’t you have a change of clothes?”

Grunt.

“Perhaps a town where I can have a hot bath?”

Grunt.

“Something to eat?!”

Gru—he rummages in his pocket and tosses me a lump of rock-hard bread.

“You’re joking. This will break my teeth!”

Grunt.

I throw the bread at the back of his head, finally garnering a reaction.

He rounds on me. “One more word, your majesty and I’ll rip that silver-spooned tongue right out of your mouth. Got it?”

His breath smells like horse plop, and his eyes are blue pinpricks. He looks...scared.

But of what?

Resisting the urge to plug my nose, I nod.

We don’t speak again for three days.

My behind is sore from riding at night, and my feet are sore from walking throughout the day. We only camp for a few hours at a time, and he never once removes his headwrap. My slipperless foot is blistered and swollen. I’m so miserable I can’t even enjoy the strange newness of being on the ground—I’ve only ever seen it from up high, or in illuminations in library scrolls.

I consider running away, but we haven’t seen a single person in the air or on the road the entire time, and I hear wolves howl at night.

The ground is a terrible, horrible place. I decide. I miss the clouds.

On the third night we land beside a bridge, if you can call it that. The stone is covered in moss and crumbling away. It crosses a fast-moving river where the water forks into two tongues.

Landing this early in the evening is unusual. Normally the black rider descends just before sunrise. But clearly he’s waiting for someone. I’m just about to ask when I see it.

The monster.

It stands on the opposite side of the bridge, carrying a tall hooked staff. A paper lantern dangles from the end of the staff. It has blue skin, black lips, and far too many feet.

Or is it hands?

I point and shout and hide behind the horse, who is drinking from the river, undisturbed.

The rider crosses the bridge to greet the monster. They’re...talking? She hands him a pouch, he weighs it in his palm, then pockets it.

Is he selling the horse?

But no. He returns, mounts his horse and casts me a look of pity. “You never saw me, kid.” He says and takes off into the air, leaving me completely exposed and alone with—

It.

The monster nods her head. “My name is Bavetna. I am the groundskeeper for Little Abbey. Come with me.”

I don’t move a muscle. “Why should I?” I prepare myself to run. The bridge between us might give me a head start. If I’m fast I can make it into the trees and disappear.

“Spring planting approaches and I require a farm hand.”

“That’s not an explanation! I’ve been flown halfway across the Endless and dragged through trees and bogs and I’m cold and wet and hungry and—”

“You will have three meals a day and a safe place to sleep.”

“Look, I need to talk to Lyara. This...this happened way too fast. Call that rider guy back. I can’t be down here.”

Bavetna turns around.

“Hey! Where are you going?”

“Little Abbey,” she says with a shrug.

“You can’t just leave me here!”

“I can.”

“But—”

A howl echoes behind me, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I look over my shoulder at the black wall of pine trees.

When I look back, Bavetna is already a small blue dot across the river. The light from her swinging lantern shrinks as the distance between us widens.

But...But...

I groan and chase after her. “Wait for me!”

By the time I catch up, I’ve almost passed out from the effort. She doesn’t slow down at all for me. “The air is really thick down here,” I gasp.

“Hmm.”

Great, she talks about as much as the last guy.

Pine needles crunch under her many feet as we follow a narrow, winding path through the forest. Bats flutter overhead, and an owl swoops low, gliding above us for a time.

“So, what’s Little Abbey?” I ask.

“A good place. You will like it.”

“Uh-huh.” I have to jog to keep up with her. “I’m a King, you know. The Endless King.”

“Are you?” she asks curiously, eyes straight ahead.

“Obviously,” I scoff, “can’t you tell?”

Her yellow eyes slide sideways, and she arches her brow.

I look down at my disheveled appearance and a terrible thought strikes me.

How can I prove I’m a King?

Maybe if I was wearing my silver suit with the sapphire buttons, or my fur-lined cape with the gold stitching. But all I have is a smelly nightgown and a single, muddy slipper.

I must sound like a raving lunatic.

“Well, I was going to be,” I mutter.

“Interesting. Now you are a farmer.”

“I am not.”

“You are going to be,” she says, echoing my own words.

I squint up at her. Is she laughing at me? I frown to myself. I’ve never had anyone laugh at me before.

“You know my name. What is yours?”

“The Endle....Egg. My name is Egg.”

“Little Egg,” she says with a nod.

“No. Just Egg.”

“You are Egg and you are Little. I will call you Little Egg.”

“Now hold on—”

SILK SISTER - NEEDLE

I descend the spiral stairs to the cages. The platform is narrow, and the Skyguards are in full armor. They shuffle out of the way to let me pass, careful not to fall into open sky.

Above me I can hear the palace is in a state of panic. Servants are whispering gossip, and the Oracles are afraid for their jobs. All nobles and unessential staff are being escorted off the Golden Isle.

Lyara is tucked inside a cage of iron hanging from a metal beam. It swings in the wind, and clouds pass by around us like slow-moving mountains.

“Tell me the rider’s name. Who did you hire?” I ask her.

She does not look up. Her knees are held tight to her chest, and her leafy hair blocks her face.

“Where is he, Lyara?”

She starts to laugh.

I grab her cage and shake it. “You know what will happen if the ceremony is not complete in time? The land will rot, the Starry Isles will fall from the sky, and darkness will return to claim the Endless. Is that what you want?”

Lyara’s laughter only grows louder.

“You have doomed more than just yourself, you foolish tree.”

“Please, you don’t care about the Endless,” she says, a single emerald eye gleaming from behind her branches. “I wonder what happens to the Silk Sisters without a King to serve? Will you rust away to nothing?”

Tsk.

“Strip her bark piece by piece until she talks.”