Maiden of the hollow pat.., p.51
Maiden of the Hollow Path, page 51
Kailani pivoted onto her feet. “Uncle, she lies–”
“With what, the proof in hand?” Hades’ question was cold as steel, silencing her fully. He stood from his throne. At full height, Shahina had to tilt her head up quite a bit. “House Ala will know my wrath. You’re dismissed.”
The hum of Eldritch magick stirred in her hands and as Shahina turned to stare at her, the woman’s features distorted until they were an ungodly sight. “Picking sides will never do you favor in politics, Shahina. I’ll remember this.” In an explosion of robes, she thundered from the adjudicators box and out the Dark Court altogether.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE: THE FIRST PRINCE
ALBATROSS was released and a country-wide apology had since been issued from Amalari on behalf of the misconduct Meridia faced. It brought Shahina immense satisfaction that Talath was the one who had to climb the ramparts and state, before all those that came from the Nine Districts, that he was wrong.
Albatross could tell the girl got off on that power, for when she came to retrieve him with his clothes and an invitation to use the guest chambers for whatever use he had. It was the first time the two were left to travel the corridors alone. Not only did he see the beauty of the Marizad, but also that of victory reigning true in her eyes.
He’d known Shahina in a particular way. The two run-ins they shared with passion shared from their tongues was one thing, but as she walked him out a free man, rubbing circles on his back, she waited until drawing out into the corridor before letting go of her haughty disposition.
Shoulders slumped, she turned to face him. “Fucking finally, huh?”
“You could say that again.”
She lowered her head in slight submission. “I am sorry, Albatross. For everything. I’m a miserable person and I shouldn’t have tainted your peace. Never.”
The apology had completely thrown him off his game. Here, the pirate made a thousand and one jokes to sling about, make a comment about how nice she’d dressed up for him and if she wanted to rekindle the passion they shared late last night.
Instead, his lips pressed into a thin line and his brow knotted at the center. He’d never thought in a million years someone as cold and terrible as this creature from Indo-Vaz would ever utter those words. Stranger was his own that came unconsciously, “You’re not miserable, lady. If you were, you would never have fought for me.”
“Looks like you and Crogan have something in common after all,” she said dryly.
Albatross raised his brows in surprise. “First name basis? Fuck, I did miss a lot didn’t I?”
“Yea, like a bath. I’ll show you to the guest chambers, you can freshen up there.”
“I’d thank you for it, but it's the least you can do.”
* * *
Albatross was left to his own devices after being delivered to a fashionable suite. It reminded him too much of home for his liking, but he couldn’t complain. Instead, he was steadfast in washing himself and staring at his gaunt form.
He’d lost just a bit of muscle mass and grown significantly paler. The bags under his eyes were rooted in sleepless nights and loneliness. His fingers strayed over that terrible eyepatch, removing it only to grimace into his disgusting reflection.
To keep himself from smashing the panel of glass, all he did was remember the way Shahina looked at him. There was no pity in her stare, no disgust as she sat upon his lap and traced the scar with an air of admiration. She looked at him like a warrior. He’d forgotten what awe felt like and she’d reminded him
He sauntered out into the main room upon finishing his care, staring at mounds of mouth-watering foods. The servants had packed the nearby tables with all manner of delicacies yet someone had already begun excavating large platters with intrigue.
Hades stood with his shoulders straight, curved talons flicking over juicy kabobs with bell peppers, curry with mushrooms, steamed vegetables, rice and sour fish soup. The choices were endless.
Without looking at his son, Hades said, “I was right to ask you to return all those months ago. Yet time and time again you find your father’s prattle incorrigible.” His low baritone fit well with the look he’d thrown Albatross, one of utmost disappointment. “If I knew you were so quick to temper, I would’ve intervened sooner.”
“What happened in Stonegrave was an abomination, Father. It was by The Paragon’s own hands that wrought its demise just as she confessed.”
“I don’t care about that. We’re in Amalari, the place of savages. All they know is to corrupt innocence with barbarity.”
Albatross’ nostrils flared at his words. “Don’t think for a second that the kingdom you rule over does not know savagery. You asked me to return to the that place where you absolved my brother of his sins. The Fourth knows no kindness.”
“You say this because of that stupid eye–”
“I’m your son!” Albatross thundered, tears on his lash. “I was your first! You held me in your hands, you taught me to fight, you taught me to respect women for that is who bore us this flesh and in that same hand you proved one truth—you honor no woman so long as that is who you keep in your council. That’s why it took you so bloody long. Because you’d rather have anyone else in my place!”
“I came for you! I came for you as I always do, you’re my blood!”
“Blood means nothing.”
Hades’ looked away, all the grief and shame in his eyes twinkling. “My son…I have only seven of you. Blood means everything.” Albatross turned away, grief cascading in single streams down his face. “You’ve lost the fight in you. I don’t see that spark, that happiness…I don’t see any of that. I haven’t for a very long time and if your mother was still around, she would flay the flesh off my bones. Maybe a part of me would let her. I have failed you in more ways than I remember, my child. One day, I’ll make it up to you. But heed this from me. That girl, the Paragon? Think of her what you will, but it’s best to keep her close.”
“She is a dog who knows no loyalty.”
“She is a zragh, and loyalty lies deep in her bones. She is not a hand you wish to refuse,” their eyes met and Hades offered a small albeit sad smile. “Girl reminds me of your mother. Iron forged with a rapture tongue. Women like that come and go in short bursts. Their lives are full of tragedy and they dedicate it to what they believe they deserve. Sometimes it's right, sometimes it's wrong. But the truth remains, my son, that you are alive and well, that she has aided you from the abuse of power she’s constructed with her hands.”
“And thrown it at Kailani.”
“I will deal with House Ala when I’m home. Until then,” he clapped Albatross on the shoulder, “Give yourself a chance to heal. The one thing I can say is that Shahina’s father never asked that of her, but that is what I ask of you. Before you get dragged down with this country, it would be best to cut ties and leave. Goodbye, my little bird.”
As soft as his words, Hades left. The hole in Albatross’ heart grew, and silence was all that came to nurture him.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO: CONSIDERATIONS
DREG was heavily indifferent to the news that made its way through the Nine Districts. He never really cared much for Albatross, but he was thankful the man wasn’t found guilty for crimes he hadn’t committed.
One broken ward wasn’t worth an execution, but then, he knew little of politics and what it meant having so much power. For now, he’d opted for sitting by himself at a nearby table.
The other lords had since begun their celebrations, playing cards and sharing mounds of wealth Shahina had put in for them at the Sunder Vault. They were easily bought by motions of grandeur, but Dreg couldn’t blame them all too much.
The weather seemed to be in the favor of those that hung near the College of Kelmoor. All students had since been released for early celebrations, and Dreg learned that the young lords and ladies and their constant protests for an alliance between Meridia and Amalari seemed to play in their favor. Each generation fought for something.
This one just happened to be their own country seeking reparation for their wrongdoings.
Alas, loneliness hadn’t held to him long, not when Crogan set a full cup of masala chai before him and took a seat.
“You look far too upset for your own good, brother.”
Crogan sighed as he lowered himself into the seat across from him. He looked so different in the vestments of an integrated royal that it disturbed Dreg.
He’d set his hands over one another before sighing. “My purpose here is to follow you. Without that, I’m nothing, Cro.”
Crogan seemed taken aback by those words, his sloped brows drawn together in thought. “You want to go back home?”
“It was wrong of me to come back after Meridia. I should’ve known that the plans you’ve enacted between you and Rukhezzi would disappoint me. Subterfuge and secrets aren’t the way of our people—eight virtues and all. The only thing I ask is that you let me take Kodomo.”
Crogan visibly tensed. “Why? He’s my Heartbird.”
“Yes and he nearly died that night in the Third District. None of us could afford to lose a Takahashi, especially not him.”
But Crogan answered selfishly. When he said, “No,” it was because he couldn’t imagine him being in this country and Kodomo flying through the clouds of another. His Heartbird was as impulsive and thrill-seeking as he was, and the times they’d attempted to keep apart, Kodomo flew through wind and storms to find him.
“The state of Amalari is absolutely vile. Now that you’ve found yourself betrothed to that girl—”
“Married,” Crogan affirmed
Dreg held an unreadable look in his eye, a cross between anger and sorrow. “What’re you actually doing, Cro? Why make yourself a pawn for someone that doesn’t have a single bone of goodness in her body?”
“You don’t know her,” came his quiet response.
“I do know her! I’ve met people like her all my life!”
“She’s not the worst person to exist, Dreg. She’s not like those that served the Imperial Fleet nor is she a power hungry woman in power. She actually seeks to protect those who can’t protect themselves.”
“Do you hear yourself?” Dreg thundered. “What happened to ‘I will bring Valheim the head of Shahina Rukhezzi be it the last thing I do’? Did that change so fiercely when she seduced you? When she promised you all that you wanted—?”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Good. I don’t expect to and I’m sorry to have held you to such a high standard knowing you’d fail. Ichika was right to question you all the times she had. She was right to avoid your hand when you offered a spot amongst the Red Right Hand. But I? I was sure that my kid brother would grow and become everything Father wanted. Utmost perfection,” he sneered. “Over decades of serving you for nothing now that you’ve grown soft upon entering this country.”
Crogan reckoned he should say something, but all he could fathom was this, “It’s a good idea you want to leave. As far as it goes, I will continue doing as I can for my people even if they don’t seek to understand the sacrifices I make. So if that brings you peace, go back to Valheim. Tell Ichika she was right and then, tell our sick mother who you haven’t written to, not even once, that her youngest son is the failure you think he is. Tell our kid sisters how you conduct yourself as a man before a woman who seeks to do better. Should you wish to sit there and point a finger at my wife, trust I’ll point one right back. She’s not the only creature that’s done wrong on this earth when you sit in front of me.”
When Crogan was young, it was rare that he had friends and the strongest bond he had after his father died was with Dreg. There was nearly ten years that lay between them–Ichika too–but Dreg was a tad different.
He was fatherly in all the ways Crogan needed, whereas Ichika’s squabbling and lectures were often parroted as a fill-in head of house. She was his direct elder, one who shared the same blood. But it was Dreg, brought in by their father on the stormiest night, that showed the most concern.
At his silence, at his sadness, Dreg continued with an exasperated sigh. “If I go home, I’ll tell her that you stayed behind for some woman that was bound to kill you. That under the circumstance of fate, you stayed because you saw something in her even if it corrupted your magick. But how much longer will you do this, Crogan? How much longer will you spend your life searching for all the good things a person is to already have? When wll you look for someone who does that for you?”
Crogan took a sip of his chai. Eyes averted, Dreg understood his answer. Crogan believed that person was Shahina and whatever made him think that would remain a secret. Dreg had no interest of asking. He wanted to stay true to his hate in regards to the woman and so he would.
“We can’t change who people are, my dear brother. We can only admire them as they are and, if we’re lucky, love them until we can’t any longer. I hope she’s worth what you’re letting go of now.”
“She is,” he said without a second’ hesitation.
Dreg scoffed again, this time to stop the tears that threatened to fall from his lash. “I will always want better than what you settle for,” rising, he dropped a few copper onto the table and then, in passing, ruffled Crogan’s hair. “If you change your mind about Kodomo, let him fly. He’ll always find his way home and I hope one day soon, you do as well.”
CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE: A FEAT OF PIRATES
The many gangs found themselves lining out just by the House of Scholars. It was a melting pot of individuals, and of them a few faces Crogan was thankful to see. Ezekiel had stopped by just to pay respects to Albatross, and the two hit it off in discussion of wyvern’s. He’d even brought his own–a Blackridge Sander with a white underbelly.
The she-wyvern was beautiful and one of the few that was free to walk by its rider without a muzzle. She made a strange clicking sound when Crogan rubbed a hand over her cold, scaly snout; a sound he’d come to know was the equivalent of a purring irala.
Ezekiel clearly liked the attention. Not for the purpose of stroking their own ego, but because of the traction they’d received with their business.
Now, it seemed Albatross was sold on the idea of wyverns, watching as the Blackridge Sander rubbed her head against Ezekiel’s hand. The sharp quills that lined the sides of her face drew back, careful to show love without hurting her master in the process.
That’s all it took, the idea that should the current station of Wyvern Holding be overrun by eggs and others of the new harvest, Albatross could work as a middle-man in hopes of securing trade.
“We could start with the outer islands. I highly doubt anyone will be docking on Erahaan or the other unnamed atolls, but it’ll draw enough attention. You might even get the blessings of the Great Twelve.”
Ezekiel’s eyes widened with greed. “Let’s go talk about it over a pint.”
And then they were gone, leaving Rhukei shaking his head in boredom. “I’d take assassination contracts over wyvern’s anyday.”
“Why?” Sakraz tittered. “Because you don’t fancy going after your own kind?”
Brimstone sputtered on her mug of ale, the rich liquor splattering on herself and, most importantly, the beautiful courtesan she’d been speaking to. The latter let out a shriek of disgust as Brimstone clapped a hand over her mouth, shoulders shaking at Sakraz’s terrible joke–at the idea of tieflings having descended from scaled serpents.
It was forgiven however at Brimstone’s expense, at Posey snorting incidentally and sending the lords over in a peal of laughter.
“Thanks, elf. Just dashed my chances of getting laid.”
“Oh, please,” Sakraz snorted in response. “What happened to that pretty little thing you used to spend time with? Said anytime you needed her, you could call and she’d come. I’m assuming that’s a double–ouch!” He was cut short by Rhukei’s backhand to the head.
“Verglas?” Brimstone did well in playing dumb. Crogan knew she had a soft spot for the blue-skinned tiefling, the one she’d hoped to find after all this was over.
He only knew that due to her honest tangents, that should things not work in her favor with the War Table, she would take her gold and go out into the Border Cities, bend them to her will. “She’s in Jem-Kaval last I heard, helping, I think, with the underground.”
“With the Volgarich?” Rhukei was taken aback by the notion. The underground wasn’t known for its kindness, not with the manner that magick was construed within the capital city.
“No,” Brimstone said with a grimace. “You do know the Volgarich and the Rebel Underground are completely different. Whether you believe in doomsday or karmic justice, Jem-Kaval has been taking Amari refugee’s since well before my birth. They teach them how to use their magick, too, and are depriving the country of its natural essence. It might seem like we’re overpopulated here, but the truth is, those who stay either do so to become one with the God King or work for the kingdom’s collapse.”
“Then you think what Shahina’s doing is foolish, wanting reform?” Crogan questioned.
“She’s Jinn-Touched, isn’t she?” Brimstone returned with a raised brow. “Don’t you think if anyone was foolish, it’d be the one looking for trouble? I suppose it shouldn’t matter much. I hear you two are parting ways. It’ll be good for you to be out on open waters, clear your head from all this bullshit. Who knows,” she shrugged, “I might just go with you.”
