Lura looked up at the castle dungeon’s ceiling. It was cold and damp. The bed she was lying on was stiff and uncomfortable. Her hands were behind her head since there was no pillow. She had been relieved of all of her possessions and given threadbare rags to wear, which made the cold unbearable. She was beaten upon arrival to make her too weak to fight back. Her coin was gone and there was a tightness in her chest that hadn’t loosened in the two days she had been in the dungeon. Meanwhile, the Katavy Empire’s army was marching through Serevar.

She choked down her anger as her mind focused on one question. What could I have done differently to avoid this? She asked all day, running through scenarios in her head.

Allena was held two doors down, sitting on her bed and holding her knees close to her chest. She took deep breaths, trying to relax her mind. She accepted her fate easily, but couldn’t accept the fate of everyone in Serevar suffering under the oppression of the Empire. She had to escape. The key she wore around her neck was confiscated, as were the rest of her belongings. She didn’t mind the cold biting through the rags she wore, but the incessant dripping of moisture through the ceiling set her on edge. She too was beaten, but didn’t mind the pain nor the hunger. She spent her time meditating patiently and in her deepest trances felt completely at peace.

Tanzik paced around his cell nervously. The wound on his head was healing slightly but the skin had torn and became infected. He was constantly agitated, distracting himself from the cold, pain, and hunger by moving around until he passed out from exhaustion. He spent most of his time asleep and slipping in and out of fever induced unconsciousness. He was occasionally given a bitter spoonful of foul medicine along with scraps of stale bread. He was beaten a couple times for screaming too loud in his delirium.

After four days in the dungeon, a pair of guards came in each cell, shackled them together, and led them out of the dungeon.

“Allena if you have magic to use, now’s the time,” Lura whispered softly while the guards were distracted by another prisoner.

“I can’t without a focus.”

“A what?”

“The key I had, it’s how I channel magic.”

“Shut up back there!” A guard yelled.

Tanzik said nothing. His fever had broken and he felt shaky and weak. His head felt floaty and heavy at the same time, and he felt like his mind and his body moved completely independently of each other.

The guards led them to a courtyard outside and forced them down to their knees in front of a large stone statue of a man slaying a dragon with a flamberge. Allena recognized it as a depiction of a legendary hero called the Revenant fighting the undead dragon Iblis. She remembered that the Revenant had served one of the kings of ancient Serevar and was the inspiration for the Serevaran flag, the wavy-bladed sword through a dragon’s skull.

“He’s the ideal citizen,” a woman said as she walked past them from behind, looking up to admire the statue. She was flanked by two additional guards. “Gave everything for his country in life and in death.” She turned around to look at them. She was dressed in regal furs and had a bright silver crown on her head. She had same chiseled features Lura and Allena recognized from depictions of King Hárkast and knew she was Princess, now Queen, Furstin.

“The three of you could have made the same choice. But you chose the wrong side. You chose to follow a relic of a bygone age, an old and insipid ruler doggedly insisting on the archaic notion of independence. We are living in a new age, an age where the whole of Cyfandir must bow before an Empress. My father was proud. Too proud to kneel to his betters and too stubborn to accept defeat.”

Allena sighed. Lura clenched her fists. Tanzik coughed. “So you already know,” he said.

“I didn’t give you permission to speak, dog,” Furstin said, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “But yes, I know Empress Ermina’s forces have invaded our province. And I’ll be surrendering to them.”

“Traitor,” Lura said, seething.

“The Empire has more to offer than we have on our own. Empress Ermina’s army is big enough to destroy us even if I shared my father’s infantile insistence on freedom at the cost of life. It’s better to thrive under the thumb of a conqueror than to die free and cut off from the rest of the world.”

She sighed contentedly and looked up at the cloudy blue sky. “I think I’ll have you executed. Maybe suffer in the dungeon for a few more weeks first. I’ll worry about it later.”

Tanzik and Allena breathed a sigh of relief. The dungeons were barely tolerable, but at least they would be alive.

Lura spat on the ground. “Good,” she said. “I won’t live in a Serevar that kneels before a conquering tyrant.”

Furstin raised her eyebrows and tilted her head in thought for a second. “Okay, I changed my mind. You’re right, let’s do that now.”

“Lura!” Tanzik snapped.

Lura’s dark eyes sparkled. “The key to resistance,” she said, looking at Allena, “is to let your enemy know they’ll never crush your spirit.”

Allena glowered at her, but picked up the hint. “Your Grace, I don’t share my companion’s beliefs, but I understand why you must do this. If I may, I’d like to make one last request before I die.”

“Oh?” She said, smiling brightly with condescending amusement.

“The key that was confiscated… it’s very special to me. It was the key to my childhood home that… well, it’s not there anymore. I’d like to hold it while I die.”

“You want me to give you a key?”

“It’s sentimental, Your Grace.”

The Queen scoffed and shrugged her shoulders. “Fine, I really don’t care. Guard, get the woman her key, then take their heads. I’m going to my study.” She walked away with the guard.

Lura bit her lip to stop from smiling. She wasn’t about to die like this. Tanzik took a deep breath and studied the guards. There were three of them there now. Their stance was relaxed like they weren’t expecting trouble. One had a headsman’s axe and the others had smaller axes hooked to their hips, held in place by a strip of leather. It would be easy for him to steal one while Allena worked her magic.

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Allena’s heart pounded in her chest. She wasn’t sure what exactly to do when she got her focus back. She didn’t want to hurt anyone, especially guards who were likely just doing their jobs. She tried to regulate her breathing as she prayed in her heart.

***

A few minutes later, the guard returned and tossed the key to her. She slipped it over her neck. Lura’s body tensed in anticipation as she readied herself to attack. Tanzik’s fists clenched. The guard with the headsman’s axe lifted it up by Allena. She shook with fear. She heard the whistling of steel through the cold clear air. She took a deep breath.

As the axe fell, just inches from her neck, a burst of energy erupted from her, knocking the guard and his axe several feet back. Tanzik lurched forward and quickly took the axe from one guard’s belt. Lura rolled into a somersault and dove between another guard’s legs. She kicked at the back of his knee as hard as she could and he fell forward.

Tanzik swung at the guard’s head, but was still weak and malnourished and the axe didn’t hit hard. The guard grabbed his wrist and wrenched his weapon back, kicking Tanzik to the ground. Lura pulled the knife from the belt of the guard she was fighting and cut his throat. The third guard got up and swung her axe at Allena, but the blade stopped mid-swing. Allena had her hand outstretched, groaning with effort. Lura ran over and stabbed her in the throat.

Tanzik rolled to the side as the guard’s axe hit the ground. He saw Lura rushing toward him and he slammed into the guard while he was vulnerable and knocked him over. Lura dropped to her knees beside him, ready to stab, but the guard swung the axe toward her head. Allena stretched out her hand and gasped in pain from the exertion as she telekinetically yanked the axe out of his hand and Lura lifted her dagger to finish him off.

“Wait!” He said. “She’s not worth dying for.”

Tanzik got to his feet panting with exhaustion. Lura fell down on her back, breathing heavily. Her front was covered with blood and her hands were shaking. Allena was on the ground as well, shaking.

The guard scrambled to his feet. “Where’s the king?” Tanzik asked.

“Queen Furstin is holding him in the north tower of the castle.”

“Good. Take us to him.”

“It’s the same tower Queen Furstin’s study is in. It’s the most heavily protected place in Stormhall.”

Tanzik’s heart sank. As much as he hated it, he feared the Empire would win in Serevar. Allena hardened her heart and withdrew, blocking the entire thing out while she held her key in one hand and wiped the blood that had started trickling from her nose with the other.

Lura covered her eyes and groaned. All she wanted was a fresh start but instead had jumped into the losing side of a coup. “So what’s the plan?” She asked. “Run and find new identities as goatherds in the mountains? I’d love that, let’s do that.”

“They can’t keep getting away with this,” Tanzik said grimly.

“I’m an opportunist, not an insurrectionist,” she said. “I’m going to get my kit and go. You there, where’d they lock our things?”

“In the north tower.”

“Oh, thrice-cursed bloody… fine, I guess we’re doing something.”

“Why is it that important to you?” Tanzik asked.

“Not your concern, sir.” She tapped a finger to her lips and took a few steps away. “I’m thinking a distraction. A loud, fiery one. Allena, can you… Allena?”

Allena shook her head absentmindedly, starting deep into nothing. The guard began looking around nervously. “We’ve stayed here too long,” Tanzik said. He turned to the guard. “Is there somewhere we can hide?”

“You’re in the castle in the capital of Serevar. There’s nowhere you can go where you won’t be found.”

“Are you going to help us or get in our way?” Tanzik asked.

The guard swallowed hard. “Long live the king,” he said.

Tanzik grinned and nodded. “That’s what I like to hear.”

“Name’s Vakta. There are a few casks of oil down in the armory. I have to ask though, is she safe?” He looked over at Allena. “I’ve heard of magic from the old tales, but didn’t think it was real.”

“Allena is harmless,” Tanzik assured.

“Toothless, more like,” Lura said.

“She saved your life. Twice.”

“Hey, it’s not a bad thing.”

Vakta picked up his axe. “Another patrol is due here soon, and Queen Furstin will be expecting your heads, so we don’t have much time.”

Tanzik knelt in front of Allena. “Hey,” he said softly. “We need you, can you walk?”

She said nothing, but held up her hand. He took it and helped her to her feet and she walked quietly alongside him as Vakta led them to the armory. Tanzik pushed his worry for her aside to focus on their goal.

Vakta took the long way to avoid patrols and stationed guards. Two guards stood in front of the iron gate that led to the armory. When they saw the prisoners, they reached for their weapons but Vakta held up his hands.

“Want to join a revolution?” He asked.

They looked at him incredulously for a second. “You have support?” One said.

“You can’t be serious,” said the other.

“If you join us, that makes six,” Vakta said. “I know I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to bow to the Empire.”

“There’s been enough blood already.”

“Blood from the past can’t dictate our future,” Tanzik said. “Just because your usurping princess did wrong doesn’t mean we should let it continue just to avoid more conflict.”

She grunted disappointedly. The guards opened the gate to the armory and took a cask of oil. “We’ll take care of it,” one of them said. “You do what you need to.”

“Wait, how can we trust them?” Lura said.

“Raud and Troja are good folk,” Vakta said. “I trust them.”

“Well how can we trust you?”

“Because…” he looked around suspiciously. “I have to save my father.”

Tanzik narrowed his eyes. “You’re a prince?”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not a legitimate heir.”

“Why didn’t your sister arrest you?” Lura said, skeptical.

“Half sister,” he corrected. “And she doesn’t know. A child born from a chambermaid comforting a grieving king after his queen died wasn’t seen as a good look, so no one knows about me except the king himself. Now let’s hurry, we need to be ready.”

He led them to a passage with a hidden alcove to wait for the fire to start. Once it started, alarm bells rang and guards rushed to put it out. In the confusion, Vakta led the three prisoners to the north tower.

“Your belongings are in the chest over there,” he said. “No time to don your armor, but grab your weapons.”

Lura grabbed her bow, quiver, and knives and slipped her iron coin in her pocket. Allena gingerly picked up her smithing hammer. Tanzik kept the axe from one of the dead guards since his weapon was broken by the vargr.

“The study is on the top floor,” Vakta said. “King Hárkast will likely be there with her, chained to a desk.

They got to the top floor and Vakta motioned for the rest of them to stay back as he stepped into the doorway that led to the study.

“Finally!” They heard Furstin say. “Guard, what’s going on down there?”

“A fire in the courtyard,” Vakta said. “Looks like sabotage. I saw everyone run down to help so I wanted to make sure you were protected.”

“Of course I am, but I’ll take a third. Make sure the old man doesn’t escape.”

“Or,” he said hesitantly, “I could restore his crown.”

There was a pause of unnerving silence before they heard the drawing of swords and the furious queen saying “What?”

Tanzik rushed in the room, followed by Lura and Allena. Lura aimed her bow at the queen. “All I have to do is let go,” she said.

“Wait,” Vakta said. “There’s been enough bloodshed.”

“Kill me if you want, fools, but you’ll never make it out of Stormhall alive. Every soldier in this castle is loyal to me.”

“Not true,” Vakta said. “Most of us follow you out of fear or duty. If King Hárkast’s position is restored, we’ll follow him. You did nothing to earn our loyalty or respect other than wear a piece of silver on your head.”

“Is that true?” Said Hárkast in a weary voice. He was old, with sharp chiseled features, grey hair, and pale wrinkled skin.

The guards beside the queen hesitated. “No,” she said. “They stand with me.”

Lura laughed. “Well, you can’t really do anything now, can you? They stand with you, they die and Hárkast is king again. But if they don’t, they live and Hárkast is king again. Your power is in your troops and they’re not here.”

“That’s a fair point, actually,” one of the guards said as she put her sword in her sheath.

“Well… yeah, I guess,” said the other, sheathing his sword.

Queen Furstin was silent, stricken with an appalled mix of fury and disbelief as the shackles were removed from Hárkast and put on her instead. “This… how… that’s it?”

“You were doomed to fail from the start, my daughter,” Hárkast said.

“You’re too late, father.”

“It’s never too late to make things right.”

“The message has been sent. It’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”

Furstin smiled. “Serevar has already surrendered. I have couriers on their way to the front lines already. You’re too late.”