Chapter 4

It's Best to Stay Quiet

I don't sleep.

I can barely shut my eyes.

And Grey doesn't sleep either. We spend most of the night watching each other, neither of us talking, because we have no words to fill the space. No words to say what we each want to, what we don't know how to say, what could make tomorrow any less bad.

Grey lays on his back and twists his wrist.

"How is it?" I ask when I can manage to find my voice.

Leg bouncing as fast as it can go, I twirl my hair around my fingers, then tug on my bangs and twist them. I try to slow my panting breaths, but I'm unsuccessful.

"It's healed. Not even a scar."

We fall into silence again, and I'm all too aware of the time slipping by like sand through fingers.

The door at the end of the narrow corridor heaves open, and the sound of chattering Guard and Soldiers fills the air. I manage to find words once more.

We stand at the front of our cells, holding eye contact for as long as we can. A tear slips down Grey's cheek, reflecting the flickering light from the torches on the walls.

"I love you, Grey," I say. "No matter what happens, I love you."

"I love you too, Alex," he replies.

My heart pounds in my chest, a rabbit sprinting along, footsteps light and fleeting.

The Guard and Soldiers bustle down the row of cells, stomping and loud, and I silently wish them to move infinitely slower, yet also faster. I don't want to wait, but I want them to never come. But still, they do arrive, Guard dressed in their leather armor with bows slung over their backs and Soldiers covered in their heavy metal armor with swords sheathed at their waists.

Snappy and Screech open the door to Grey's cell, while Scorn unlocks mine. Before he pulls open the door, he looks at me.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, Alex," he says. "Are you going to fight?"

I don't respond, and I'm not sure I could have, even if I wanted to. All I can do is tense and stare at Scorn with wide eyes, pulse fluttering and stomach rising up my throat.

Grey grits his teeth with a sharp breath as Snappy shoves him out of the cell.

I take an unconscious step back as he's walked away.

"Are you going to fight?" Scorn asks again as he enters my cell.

"What type of question is that?" I find myself saying.

He frowns. "A genuine one. Should I be prepared for you to try to escape?"

I scoff and gesture to the Guard and Soldiers waiting outside. "You think I can escape that?"

Scorn glances their way, positioning himself with his back to the door of my cell. "It's possible. A Soldier assumes nothing without fact and is to keep their fellow Soldiers in mind at all times."

"You're so damn cold," I mutter. "Just bring me to the King."

A Guard outside the cell gasps. "Refer to the King of Ragdon by his full name: My Sovereign, His Excellency, His Honor, His Highest of all Highnesses, King Garonda XIV!"

The Guard makes a move to barge into the cell, but Scorn blocks his path.

"The order stated unharmed, if at all possible," Scorn murmurs.

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The Guard snorts, rolling his eyes. "Use the proper name. It's not that fucking hard."

I scowl at the Guard. Scorn takes that moment to get behind me and tie my wrists together. I don't try to fight him.

Scorn leads me out of the cell, down the corridor, and out to the main part of the King's castle. Marble blankets the ground, and carved pillars tower toward the sky. Half a dozen expansions sit in various stages of completion, and each has its own style, giving the castle the look of a puzzle mismatched together. Most walls are white with faint hints of purple, but embellishments of gold and amethyst decorate the surface of the castle. Torches provide some lighting, but the sun peeking up over the roof illuminates the grounds.

We don't make it very far before the Guard and Soldiers stop. They pull apart and form two neat lines on the side of the walkway. Only Snappy, Screech, and Scorn stay where they were.

"General," Screech says in surprise, drawing to a halt and pulling Grey back with him.

I glance at my brother, but when I look back I see a cat-like creature floating at hip height.

"What are they doing here?" Scorn murmurs under his breath.

"General Spyro," Snappy says, bowing his head. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

"He requested it."

"My Sovereign, His Exc-."

"He voiced concerns, so I'm here."

General Spyro walks around Screech's side, and I get a better look at them. Their body fades in and out of existence like a cloud, and their fur is a mottled mix of a soft pink and blue. Two dark purple bandanas crisscross their head, covering their eyes and ears.

"Let's be on our way," they say, revealing a forked tongue and an array of sharp teeth. "It would be disappointing to be late."

"Of course, General Spyro," Snappy says, pushing Grey back into motion.

My brother eyes the General with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows. I have a similar expression.

The Generals rank above Guard and Soldiers and are made up of various creatures, like General Spyro, but are rarely seen. I've never met any of the other Generals.

Scorn nudges me back into motion, and I walk, body numb. I stare at the General, who leads the way, and the castle around me turns into a blurry smudge. My heart pounds in my chest, and my throat closes up, as if a snake had coiled around me tight, seizing my neck and constricting me.

I start to tremble.

"Stop," Scorn murmurs a while later, pulling me back to reality with a tug on my forearm.

Two massive wooden doors stand before me, iron hinges engraved with intricate designs. A Soldier stands guard on either side, and when General Spyro draws near, each grabs ahold of an iron ring and heaves the double doors open.

"He awaits," General Spyro says, and they float down to the ground, tail flicking as they pad into the Throne Room.

I freeze, vision turning to fuzz. My muscles lock up.

Snappy and Screech lead Grey through the doors to the Throne Room, but Scorn pauses with me.

He leans in close to my ear.

"It's best to stay quiet," he says. "Talking only makes things worse."

I don't reply.

My heart pounds too fast, and my anxiety skyrockets as we pass through the threshold and the massive wooden double doors held open by two Soldiers.

The walls of the Throne Room are dark, illuminated by torches and the sprawling Amethyst Throne, a rock made up of swirling shades of purple. Tall columns hold up the ceiling, and a dark purple walkway inlaid in the marble floor leads directly to the Throne.

The King of Ragdon lounges on the Amethyst Throne. He doesn't sit on it; he lounges, leaning against one armrest, propping his head up on a loose fist, and throwing one leg over the other armrest.

He studies us through narrowed purple eyes, and his pale white skin makes his black hair look ever darker.

His Dragon lays coiled behind the Amethyst Throne, chin resting on it as it snores softly. The snakehead tail opens its purple eyes and raises off the ground, unfurling its hood and baring its teeth with a hiss.

"Kneel," the King says.

Snappy, Screech, and Scorn bring Grey and I to the foot of the Amethyst Throne.

Grey drops to his knees, and when I hesitate, Scorn gives me a subtle push. My legs fold beneath me. The marble is cool against my skin.

"Come, Judge and Justice," the King drawls to the room, making a beckoning motion with his hand.

The Amethyst Throne rumbles beneath him, and the purples of it swirl.

A minute ticks by, then another.

I glance all around the room, shifting on my knees as my skin prickles and anxiety curls in my gut. I lock eyes with Grey, who shrugs, trembling as he swallows thickly.

None of the Guard and Soldiers seem concerned with the wait, though. All stand still, heads bowed and gazes fallen to the floor.

After another minute, the walls of the Throne Room shake and rumble, and two pairs of dark wings unfurl, one black and the other dark grey. Two gargoyles land at the side of the Amethyst Throne, both lowering their forelegs into a deep bow. Their bodies crackle with each movement that sounds like stones grinding across each other.

"The Judge has arrived from the Garden, my King," the black gargoyle says. It turns its attention to me and Grey, and it narrows its red eyes. Horns sprout from its forehead, and they cast sharp shadows across its stony skin.

"The Justice is here to serve, my King," the dark grey gargoyle says. It lifts a foreleg, and purple light sparks and sizzles between its toes.

The Judge and the Justice are bigger than I could've ever imagined, each bigger than the draft horses I've seen used in the King's army. They rise from the ground and sit back, wings tucked neatly at their sides and chests puffed out to give an air of confidence that's second to only the King. The Judge continues to look at Grey and I.

"I've called you here for the trial of Alex and Grey." The King gestures to us.

"What are their crimes?" the Judge asks.

"Being the Wolf and the Dove."