Chapter 3

Won't Mean Much When We're Dead

Panic seizes my throat as we fall backward.

I scrabble to hang onto my brother, and he flutters his wings, trying to regain control. Silver glows from the wound at his wrist, but it doesn't heal like the cut on his forearm had in our tent.

We spiral downward. Guard and Soldiers cheer and rush over from the edge of the Lava Flats, racing to meet us.

"Come on, Grey," I plead. "Please. You can do it."

He cries out as we plummet toward the ground.

My grip slips, and I break away from him, free falling. Blood from the arrow piercing through his wing splatters on my face. My hair batters my face as it blows all around me.

Grey flaps his wings, but only his uninjured wing works properly. The other shifts weakly at his side, hanging loose. Silver dances on his skin but it doesn't work fast enough to heal his wing.

He stares at me through wide eyes, and I hold his gaze. Grey folds his wings in close as best he can to try to get closer.

The ground rushes up at us, and we're nearly there.

I close my eyes, and tears drip down my cheeks.

Just before we hit the ground, Grey manages to catch up with me. He rolls us over so his back hits the rock of the Lava Flats first, but as soon as we make contact with the earth, we're thrown apart.

I tumble across the rock, and the rough surface creates a million tiny scratches on my skin. I skid to a halt and lay there for several moments, stunned, before my brain catches up and jumpstarts.

I start to get my arms underneath me to assess the damage, but before I can, a foot pushes me back to the ground. My cheek presses into the rock, and I wince.

"We've got you now."

I turn my head and see Scorn standing over me, expression flat and distant.

"Come on," he says, stepping back. "Get up."

I try, but my arms shake. I glance up, eyeing the sword sheathed at Scorn's waist.

Perhaps if I can just manage to stand and get the sword from him. The training to teach kids to fight isn't exactly the same as the training Soldiers go through, but maybe if I can get a weapon I can get away.

"Get up," Scorn repeats.

When I move too slow, Scorn sighs and grabs the back of my shirt, yanking me to my feet. Before I can react, he pulls my wrists together and binds them with rope behind my back.

"You're not getting away. The King wants an audience with you."

"You aren't gonna call him by that stupid title?"

The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I tense myself, waiting for his reaction.

Other Guard and Soldiers arrive before Scorn can reply but I still look over my shoulder and narrow my eyes at him. He just stares back.

"Gotcha now. Thought you could get away, huh?" a Guard taunts.

I ignore him and scan the Lava Flats for Grey.

I find him, and he's a little ways away, laying on his back and still in his dove form. He's not moving, but he shrieks when a Guard yanks the arrow out of his wing. A Soldier presses a foot onto his uninjured wing when he tries to lash out at his attackers.

"Shift back," a Soldier snaps, standing over his head and looking down at him. "Now."

I squint at the Soldier.

I name him Snappy.

"Shift back," Snappy repeats, kicking Grey in the side.

Scorn pulls back when I try to move to go to my brother.

"Let me go," I spit.

"No, I cannot," Scorn replies, voice level.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

I tug against the bindings around my wrists and squirm in Scorn's hold, but he doesn't let go.

Grey manages to shift back, and as soon as he's done so, Screech shoves him to his stomach and Snappy ties his wrists together and hauls him to his feet.

Guard and Soldiers lead Grey over toward me and Scorn and the others, and we walk off the Lava Flats and into the surrounding forest.

xxxx

The journey is silent. No one talks.

Grey stares blankly at the ground, silver eyes looking at nothing. The blood dripping from his wrist eventually slows.

Scorn keeps a firm hold on my arm and matches my pace.

Screech moves faster than Grey, dragging him along.

The Guard and Soldiers keep us apart, putting bodies in between the two of us, but I can still catch glimpses of my brother.

Fear snakes through my heart, a curling, winding serpent telling whispering thoughts of everything that might await Grey and I at the King's castle. What we might have to go through, what the King might do, what the Guard and Soldiers might do under the King's orders. That far-off thought I can never quite think that our lives might be turning to sand falling through fingertips, ticking into their last hours.

Birds chirp overhead as we make our way through the trees. Branches snap under the heavy steps of the Guard and Soldiers. A deer scampers away, startled by our presence.

I shift in the bindings at my wrists.

"Don't try it," Scorn warns.

I scowl.

Sweat beads on the back of my neck, dripping down my spine.

There's too many Guard and Soldiers to try anything, even if my hands were free. Every one of them has weapons and knows how to use them.

How are we going to get out of this? I think to myself. Worry gnaws at my insides.

xxxx

The King's prisons are much smaller than I thought they'd be. They're not the sprawling array of cells I'd imagined in my mind on the walk here. Instead, it's just one long row of maybe two dozen cells. Torches cast flickering rings of light on the stone walls and harsh shadows of the iron bars of the cells.

I don't let myself think too hard on why there might be so few cells.

Screech and Snappy lead Grey to one on the far end, and Scorn brings me to the one across from it.

He pushes me inside, then unties the ropes before exiting the cell. The iron bars clang against each other as the door slams shut, and Scorn fastens the lock. He pauses as Screech and Snappy walk away, chattering about tomorrow's meeting with the King.

"We will come back tomorrow," Scorn eventually says. "Your audience with the King will be in the morning."

His footsteps echo as he leaves.

Soon after, the door to the prison closes, and Grey and I are alone.

We're both silent, with only the faint flickering of the torches to be heard.

Grey sulks on his bed, hunched over and shoulders curling inwards.

I walk forward and rest my arms on the cold iron bars of the prison cell.

Even in the dim lighting, I can see the emotions flickering across my brother's face, the words he's thinking but doesn't speak, the anxiety that's slowly spiraling out of control.

"Come on, Grey," I sigh. "Just spit it out."

He only hesitates for a moment before responding.

"We never should've done that." He takes a breath before continuing, and the words fall from his mouth like a waterfall, fast, slurred together. "We never should've found those necklaces. We never should've gone to the Erebus Tree. It was a stupid decision. Look where it got us."

Grey swings a heavy arm around, gesturing at the cell he's in, the prison, the dark stone walls.

"Yeah, but look what they've given us. Or, well, you at least. Don't you think that this means maybe we can make a difference?" I muse.

Grey scoffs, leaping off the bed and crossing the distance to the front of his cell. His silver eyes flash with frustration. He grips the iron bars of his cell tight.

"Make a difference?" he snarls. "The King is going to kill us tomorrow."

"But maybe he won't," I reply. "Maybe we'll find a way to get out of here."

"Alex," Grey starts, speaking slowly and looking at me in disbelief. "We're locked behind bars. There is no way out. And even if there was, there's Guard and Soldiers who will hunt us down the instant we set foot outside. We're going before the King and the Judge and the Justice tomorrow. They have never not executed a prisoner of the King before."

I pause, eyes dropping to the ground. I watch a cockroach scuttle across the floor and mull over my words.

"I... I know. I'm scared, too. But maybe we'll be ok. We found these for a reason," I murmur, lifting my pendant from my shirt and squeezing it in my hand.

"The pewter pendant and malachite medallion aren't gonna mean much when we're dead."

"You can heal yourself, Grey."

He snorts, and I catch him rolling his eyes in the flickering light of the torches on the wall. "There's a difference between healing an injury and healing death. Lucius's claim is permanent. Once they take your soul, it's over. They've never brought anyone back. And you're my sister, Alex. I wouldn't want to live without you."

I run my fingers over the pendant, and orange light glows softly from the lines carved into its surface. "We've got these necklaces though. Maybe we can make a difference."

Grey sighs. He runs a hand through his blond hair. "Maybe we could've," he says, "but look where it's landed us."

"We didn't even get a chance."

"We can't take chances, Alex." Grey looks back up, eyes pleading with me to understand. "It's the King. He rules the island. We have to keep our heads down and not make a scene. We're supposed to just stay in line and survive, because what can we do against the King? He has his army. He has the Amethyst Throne. He has his Dragon. He has the Judge and the Justice, and they always rule in his favor."

"I know that, but we both know it's wrong." I lean against the bars of the cell, resting my chin on one. The iron is cool against my skin. "We just gotta try."

"They'll kill us."

"They'll kill anyone. If we make it out of this, we'll have a chance to maybe change something. You can turn into a bird, Grey. You've got fucking magic. That's gotta count for something."

"We've spent our lives trying not to get noticed."

"I think we're a little late for that now." I chuckle. "The King sure has noticed us now."

Grey just shakes his head.

"Let's just try to get some sleep," he says, turning around and walking back to his bed. "If we're going to meet the King tomorrow, let's at least try to get some rest."

I sigh and turn around, eyeing my own bed. When I cross the cell and press a palm down on it, the thin mattress squeaks, and when I sit down, a rock jabs me in the thigh. A tear in the fabric shows small stones and thorns in the stuffing.

Lovely.