Chapter 14. The King of Talmoria.

The group moved into the city, weaving through dense crowds that swayed and swam across stone roads like a crowd of black souls, melting between lights from lanterns and braziers. Everywhere Manie looked she could see broken windows, boarded doors, and burned remains of buildings. The gold on the marble towers that rose high above her head, that once gleamed and reflected light across the streets like a thousand shining sunrises, now looked as faded and worn as the abandoned buildings in the forgotten sections of the city. Still, the towers made her feel as small and insignificant as when she was just a child. Long rivers fell from the tower's roofs dozens of feet above them, splashing down across the entrances to alleyways like waterfalls. Manie stepped out of the umbrella and let the rain touch her face, but Markus instantly pulled back the umbrella to shield her.

“Don’t let the water get on your skin,” Markus said. “It’s poison.”

“What about you?” Manie asked.

“You only live once,” he said, rain dripping down his features.

Manie looked back at the woman holding the parasol and noticed she was soaked, too. She unconsciously noted that Shawn was dripping with the toxic water like the rest of them, but she couldn’t acknowledge that. “My life isn’t more important than the rest of yours.”

“It certainly is,” Markus said, looking into Manie’s eyes like they were red oceans. “Let’s keep moving. It isn’t safe for you to be out on the streets.”

“I don’t need anyone to protect me,” Manie said back.

“You think I don’t remember?” Markus asked, smiling. “I saw the butcher’s body that night at the festival. You were just a girl back then. I can’t imagine what you’re capable of now.”

Remembering the murder she'd committed that night hardly made her feel more strong or independent. Instead, Manie felt more like a monster. “It was an accident,” she said, the formation of those words a sharp, biting sting on her tongue as she remembered defending herself to a court of nobles when she was a child, Veronica nowhere to be seen.

“I know it was, kiddo,” Markus said, rubbing her shoulder. “You never had as much fire as your sister. Either way, these crowds can be overwhelming for the best of us. We should get to your father’s mansion before they come up with any ideas.”

Here in the Cloud District, the gold had been stripped from the marble towers and the jewels encrusted in much of the stonework were gone, too, leaving holes across the structures like broken eyes. Rust burned on every piece of iron like a spreading plague. Not a hair of the city’s majesty had survived untouched. Even the statues stood broken and marked with paint, the cobblestones below Manie’s feet cracked and stained with soot. But under all the damage she could still see the memory of what it had been before, as buried inside her mind as it seemed to be. She remembered every stone, every missing pebble, every step she and her sister took before it all came apart.

Deeper into the city were barricades with piles of sandbags stacked high behind walls of sharpened spikes, where men in leather armor stood guard against the sea of living bodies in the streets. Braziers lit the soldier’s faces from below, making them look like burning skeletons. At their back were rows of abandoned food carts and stalls where merchants once sold trinkets and carved runes. As they came to one such stall, Manie reached out and grabbed a black stone from a shattered display. The white lettering on the back of the stone read, ‘The dead are forever among us.’

Manie set the stone back in the broken display case as carefully as if it were a sparkling gem. “Is my father in good health?”

“Physically? Sure,” Markus said, nodding. “But I’m not sure his mind is in a similar state. Most days he locks himself in his chambers and refuses company. I don’t believe your father has taken well to losing a war against a group of mud-scraping rebels with blue flames in their eyes.”

“Does he…talk about me?” Manie asked, skin crawling as she asked. It felt so strange to involve his name in conversations once again.

Markus looked down at her. “You’re the only person he ever talks about–as if everything he’s ever done is all somehow part of a greater plan to lead you back to him. He never lost hope of seeing you again, Manie. It’s the only thing he has left to believe in.”

Manie had too many questions to count, and the list was only growing longer. I should have returned home long ago. Or maybe this was a mistake. He would have forgiven you, she heard Queen Milly’s voice say in the back of her mind. Maybe she was right, Manie allowed. Ahead she could see the stairway that led down from Cloud District to Copper Lanes, and she heard her sister’s voice echo out from the shadows, You’re stronger than you know.

I hope she was right, Manie mused in despair, remembering the look of pain in her sister’s eyes as she plummeted from the tower. She’d need all the strength in her heart to prepare for what was coming next.

White stones painted by grime led up the long hill like a river of rotten teeth, flowing up between towers and shops and through the rough rock of the mountains, all the way to the base of her father’s mansion. The dark clouds swirled and twisted around the building’s silhouette, parting before they came back together and swelled across the city like a black leech hovering low in the sky, high towers stabbing it from below. A few guards rushed ahead and unlocked the gates, bending them open with a long screech of iron. They proceeded briskly up the hill until the mansion stood over them like a dying beast, perched atop the rocks and clinging to a golden scepter, Manie’s old prison, her tower, rising high over every other tower in the city.

“Your old home awaits,” Markus said aloud as if speaking Manie’s own thoughts. A wave of chills swam up her spine. “I can hardly contain my excitement.”

Markus laughed and wrapped his arm around Manie’s shoulder, squeezing her against his side. “I missed you, kid. This city has never been the same without you.”

They came to the bottom of two spires like horns that speared the clouds above. The doors to Dukemot’s mansion stood before them. Two women went ahead and broke the seal without ceremony, shocking Manie’s eyes to the unfiltered view of her lost home. The entrance hall waited ahead, the fountain of the dragon and the three women intertwined in the center of bronze tiles, their shadows dancing and swinging across walls bathed in torchlight.

Markus escorted Manie and Shawn inside while the rest of the guards remained out in the rain, watching like wolves in the darkness. The fountain had a ring of red carpet that stretched out and led to the next set of stairs on the other side. Dozens of doors and hallways were on either side, leading off into sections of the mansion even Manie had never seen.

Markus opened the doors at the end of the entrance hall when Manie reached them. On the other side was a long hall of warm stone and clay pillars. Memories came flooding in with the draft, flashes of balls and feasts and queens in fur coats. Statues of kings who’d died long ago lined the walls, each in its own alcove, the main subject being Mikhail as the centerpiece between two torches pressed into the wall behind an empty marble throne at the farthest end of the room, his vacant eyes watching and judging all proceedings in the kingdom. The marble seat rose just above the rest of the room at the top of three short stairs, looking across an empty chamber.

The throne room was much like she remembered it, though unfamiliar in its own way. The banners were gone; the lutes and harps the musicians used to play; the paintings had been replaced with hollow suits of armor wielding spears and shields, cold metal gleaming in the torchlight.

“Where’s my father,” Manie asked, hollowed by the sight of the empty throne.

“This way,” Markus said. He turned her and the remaining soldiers towards a hallway in the back corner of the room, behind the twin staircase. At the end was a green door with a single woman standing guard at its entrance, wielding a tall spear. Only her eyes were visible through the visor of her steel helmet.

“So this is her?” the woman asked. “Her hair looks different.”

“But her face looks the same,” Markus said. “I think that’s what matters most.”

I’m an item. Just a living doll for everyone to play with. The words stung in Manie’s mind.

The guard grabbed the thin ring handle of the door and pulled it open. Manie’s heart felt like it was going to explode. She almost had to reach out and hold the door frame to keep from toppling over. On the other side was a wide room, walls covered in wooden carvings with thousands of lines, making up animals like lions, deer and a bear, their shadows shivering across the grain.

In the center of the room was a table of food, and at the long table’s head was an empty seat with a high carving of feathered wings to mark it as the king’s chair. A golden crown jeweled with red rubies and blue sapphires hung from one of its wings. And then Manie saw him, pacing away from a bookshelf. The king stopped before her and turned, like a glowing outline of a dream, a forgotten memory buried in golden dust.

“Hello Manie,” her father said and smiled. “It’s so good to see your face.” His eyes boiled with restrained and breathless joy in his voice, like the sight of her was a miracle come true.

Tears broke and spilled from Manie’s eyes. He was just as she remembered him. Age hadn’t taken a single feature of his face. He seemed untouched from her memory by time, like a living sculpture of the person she remembered in her dreams. “Dad?”

King Dukemot frowned, then turned to Markus. “Thank you for bringing her to me, Captain. You may leave us, now.”

“As you say, Your Grace. If you need anything else done, or you’d like to discuss the future of the realm now that the Princess has returned, please don’t hesitate to call on me.”

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“We have an age or more to come to that,” the king said with a bite in his voice. “Now give us some peace.”

“What about the boy who captured her?”

“He may stay.”

Markus glared at Shawn like he was a disgusting cockroach to be crushed underfoot. “As you wish, Your Grace.”

Dukemot shot a dangerous look to his captain as he bowed and closed the door. Manie was left standing at the end of the table inside the dining room with Shawn at her side. She picked at her nails as her father slowly trained his vision back on her.

“Hi Dad,” Manie said, forcing a smile.

Dukemot smiled back and approached, lowering his eyes as he got to her. “And all this time I thought I was finally free of teenagers.” He looked into her eyes, the brown around his pupils glowing like tree sap in the light of the flames.

“Dad,” Manie whispered. He was like a living memory. A painting of the past come to life. She’d never realized until now just how much she’d accepted in her heart that his likely death was true. But she’d been wrong. “I missed you,” she managed to say, the words choking her like a collar made of thorns. No other words would come to mind.

Dukemot’s happiness melted into misery as tears boiled up in his eyes. “As did I,” he said, grabbing her.

Manie felt his strong arms wrap around her. She leaned her ear against the chest of his robe as tears spilled across her face. “I never thought I’d see you again,” she whispered.

“Neither did I,” Dukemot whispered back.

He pushed her back and held her shoulders, looking at her from head to toe, then back up again. “Look at you,” he said with a toothy smile, raising his brows. “You’ve grown since I last saw you. You’ve changed into a beautiful young woman.”

Manie blushed and looked at her feet, trying to laugh away the pain. “I guess I have.”

“And your hair is a beautiful shade of flame. You’ll have to tell me the story of how you managed that.”

“It’s a long one,” Manie said, trying not to think about the Red Crystal. She looked up at her father, trying to ignore her trembling voice. “You aren’t angry at me for what I did?”

“I was never angry at you, Manie,” Dukemot said, his voice wilted by pain. “I was proud.”

Manie pulled back from her father. “How could you be proud of me for what happened? I kill–”

Dukemot put his thumb against her lips to hush her. “Because you did what I could not. You did what was right–you freed the Torch-Wings.”

There was such confusion, relief, sorrow, and joy coursing through Manie’s mind that she hardly knew what to feel or say. Her emotions were tangled into an unfixable mess. We’re sisters. Sisters stick together, she heard Veronica’s voice tell her in her mind.

Manie pulled her father’s hands away from her face. “I killed Veronica because she tried to take Mikhail’s Crystal.” Saying that sentence was like dropping a bucket of bricks off each shoulder. Even her breathing seemed to return. But a dark flame in her heart came with it. “I didn’t want to lose the power.”

“Why would Veronica do that?” Dukemot asked, his brow bent by confusion.

“She wanted to give the Crystal to Mother.”

“But neither of them can use it?”

“She didn’t believe me,” Manie said. “I tried to tell her, that night in my tower.”

Dukemot shook his head, his voice growing deep and low. “The cruelty these devices inflict on us never ends.”

“We can end it ourselves. We must refuse to let them control us.”

He turned his eyes back up to Manie’s with a cruel truth bending his lips. “That isn’t always possible. Come, sit and eat. We’ll have plenty of time to discuss such things now that you’re back where you belong.” He wiped red hair out of Manie’s eyes and smiled.

Manie turned her eyes on Shawn. He looked a thousand miles away, even though he was just across the room. He looked like he no longer knew the person he was standing beside, and Manie felt the same about herself. Who am I? She no longer felt familiar with the skin she possessed. How easily alliances could change. Was her father really sincere? Or was it all a game? The emotions raging through her heart were as fierce as molten steel. Shawn was also part of who she was and she couldn’t let herself forget that fact. But here in this place, in however brief a time they meant to stay, to have one life, she’d have to cast away the other. To play a game and become an actor. But Manie didn’t know if she was strong enough to do that without letting herself be changed by it.

“Yes, let’s sit,” Manie said, biting her lip. “It’s been a long journey.

Dukemot pulled a chair for Manie to sit in. “That it has.” He turned to Shawn after. “So you’re the brave lad who returned my daughter to me,” he said, his voice soft and sincere. “You kept the princess safe, and I’ll never forget that. I owe you more than I can ever repay.”

“Just thank me with twenty-five thousand pieces of gold,” Shawn said, crossing his arms. He was still holding up the charade perfectly. At least he hadn’t completely forgotten what they were really here to do.

Dukemot smiled. “And you shall have it, and much more. Don’t ever hesitate to call on me or any of my personal assistants. First Advisor Roderik, or my Master of Gold, Celia, should always be within reach if you wish for anything. I’ve told them to treat you as an honored guest of the house. Whatever you request, they will oblige.”

Shawn looked at Manie, then back to Dukemot, uncrossing his arms. “Thank you,” he said, raising up his arms before letting them slap against his sides. “That’s a very kind gesture.”

“You’re very welcome. I’ve also had a room prepared for you, which my personal guard Willhelm will escort you to once we’ve finished enjoying each other’s company for the night.” Dukemot smiled and waved an arm across the table, all the delicious food steaming beneath his hand. “But first, let’s eat. You both must be hungry. Enough chatter. Let's fill our teeth.”

There were silver platters with pheasant and steaming mutton, meat pies; cherry pies; lemon pies. Stews steaming and simmering in bowls beside plates of freshly baked bread. There were cherry-filled cakes along the end, just like the ones from the Festival when Manie was a child. Another section had wheels of cheese and plates of crackers near bottles of wine.

Dukemot went around the table and pulled a chair for Shawn. “Come, sit. I’ve given my servants a much-needed rest for the night, as they deserve. I’m sure you’re very tired as well.”

Shawn went to the chair and sat. “Thanks.”

Dukemot bowed and went back to his own seat at the head of the table, where his crown hung from the wooden wing behind him, and sat, pulling in his chair. He pointed at the green bottles in wicker sleeves near the center of the feast. “There is squeezed orange in those bottles and cherry pulp in the brass pitcher beside you, or wine if you’d rather a refreshment with more bite. Drink and eat as much as you’d like, though I’m afraid you’ll be obliged to serve yourself at this late hour.”

“That’s fine,” Manie said.

“Yeah, that’s okay,” Shawn agreed.

Dukemot smiled at them, joy pushing up his eyes. “Every night at supper this table will be full with food. Feel free to come and go as you please during your stay.”

“Thank you,” Shawn said again.

“I’m pleased to host you, Master Shawn. I can tell you’ve got a strong heart. We need more men like you in the capitol.”

Shawn looked at Manie, then back to her father. “Of course... I uhh…try to follow my heart, when I can.”

“That’s a wise voice to listen to. Your father must be proud to have you as his son.”

“Well, my mother, actually. My dad died when I was six. But if he can see me now, I hope that’s true…”

Dukemot’s brow deepened. “I’m certain he is. Your father is out there somewhere, Shawn, hidden beyond the darkness of our skies, in some green place far away from here–with the rest of the fathers and mothers who have been lost too early. But that place is nowhere we living can reach. They are beyond us now in a way that’s above our understanding. You’ll see your father again one day, Shawn, just as we all will, I’m certain of that–but it won’t be in this life.”

“I guess you could be right,” Shawn said, looking as if he thought the response was a bit strange. But slowly he let the idea into his heart. “I wish he could have seen the person I became instead of the child I was when he…died...”

“We all wish for more time with the ones we love,” Dukemot said, his voice like soft granite. “The painful truth is we cannot know how many days we’ll be granted with them… Sometimes it’s many, sometimes it’s too few. So we must cherish the time we’ve been given while those days are here, and celebrate the memory of them once they’ve gone. That’s all we living can do.”

Manie choked on the thought of Veronica. She tried to remember the night at the festival, tried to put it all into order in her mind, but it seemed so far away, like the memories belonged to someone else. Her past was shredded and torn by the violence and greed for Crystals. No single memory was allowed to exist free of the torment and torture of her own foolish mistakes, or the mistakes of her mother.

Shawn's eyes drifted down to his empty cup. He grabbed a pitcher of cherry juice and filled it, taking a small sip.

“Shawn’s in the right mind. Enough death and dread, let’s dig into our meal.” Dukemot slapped a slice of cheese onto his plate and tore off a wing from the roasted turkey. “Only one of those left, best claim it quick.”

Shawn smiled and looked at Manie like he was asking for permission. He then grabbed the leg, snickering as he tore it off.

“That’s a smart lad. You’ll have to teach my daughter to grow a stomach,” Dukemot laughed and smiled as he chewed on pheasant and cheese.

“She eats more than I do when she’s hungry,” Shawn said with a laugh. “I uhh, could hardly keep her fed on the journey home.”

Manie slapped Shawn’s shoulder and looked at him with her mouth cocked open.

Dukemot nudged Manie and smiled. “You hear that, Daughter? I think we better send your captor to the dungeons after such a ruthless and unprovoked attack on Talmoria’s future queen.” Dukemot smiled at Shawn.

Manie laughed at them both, shaking her head as she looked at her empty plate. In the reflection of the clay she saw her smiling face and became disillusioned.

Forcing a smile to come back up her cheeks was the most difficult performance she had put on all night. It was like cutting lines into her face. How could this all be real? Was it just a dream? A nightmare? Were they lying to her? Pretending? Was her father putting on this performance only moments before calling the guards to have them both executed? Was the wine a poisonous stew or the meat a bite of death? Where were the seams in the illusion? Where was the truth? Where was reality? “I can’t eat…”

“Why not?” Dukemot asked, looking stabbed by the words. “Is it not to your liking? I can have Diana prepare you something else if this doesn’t suit your taste.”

“No, it’s not that, I’m just… I’ve lost my appetite.” Manie had to fight very hard not to cry. She bit down on the last word as her eyes grew foggy.

“Manie, is something wrong?” Dukemot asked. “If I’ve done something to displease you, I’d wish for you to tell me. I mean to cause no harm… I want this meeting to be better than the trials of yesterday.”

“Seeing you like this after all this time... It’s too painful…” Tears burned in Manie’s eyes like sharp frost as she looked up from her plate to her father.

Dukemot’s joy wilted like a flower dying in the sun. “Is there some other way I can help you?”

“I don’t know,” Manie said, bitter confusion on her tongue. It was exactly what she’d always wanted, but somehow it didn’t make her feel any less alone. The past would always be lost to her, it seemed, like tears in a storm.

Dukemot’s eyes fell, then came back to Manie’s. “Would you like to come with me to a place where we can be alone? I had hoped to speak with you about the past after you settled in… Perhaps I can answer some of the questions on your mind tonight.”

It felt like the last thing in the world she wanted to do, but maybe it was better to be done with it now. “Perhaps that would be best,” Manie said, squeezing out the tears as she shut her eyes.

Dukemot rose from his seat and took Manie’s hand. He looked at Shawn with broken eyes. “My personal Guard Willhelm should be along shortly to escort you to your chambers. Stay and eat if you’d like. Thank you again, Shawn.” He turned back to Manie. “Come, Manie.”