“Queen Trina is the one who told us that Hellswan was behind all this,” he sneered. “And we believe the queen. We’ve lost everything, and yet all you people are living like royalty in another palace! Strange coincidence that a Hellswan palace remained intact when nothing else managed to, don’t you think?”
I wanted to point out the obvious flaw in his logic, that Hellswan castle had been completely obliterated, but I didn’t think he’d listen to reason. If Queen Trina had put them all up to this, then no one would be interested in anything I had to say—not until we had proof of her crimes.
“Please believe me,” I begged the boy, “she’s not to be trusted. She’s dangerous; she’s been lying to you—lying to us all.”
“Why should I listen to you? You’re just a kid, and a human one at that.” The boy crossed his arms, trying to stare me down.
“What kingdom do you come from?” I asked, not willing to back down until I got through to him. The crowd was listening to our exchange, and I felt that if I could persuade him to at least consider the possibility that Queen Trina wasn’t all she seemed, then we had a chance.
“Hadalix,” he retorted.
“Your king died in the trials, right?” I replied.
“What of it?”
“Do you know how he died?”
The boy frowned, impatient at my questioning. “Creatures in the forest.” He shrugged. “It happens—the trials are dangerous. Like I said, so what?”
I shook my head, divulging the information that Ash had passed on. “No. Not creatures. Queen Trina killed him, leaving his body in the forest to be eaten. Ash and Memenion saw it, but the Impartial Ministers didn’t believe them—or refused to believe them…just like you are refusing now.”
“You have no proof,” he shot back.
“Why don’t you wait—ask Ash when he returns?” I replied evenly. “He wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Don’t listen to his lies!” a voice cried out from the back of the crowd. I couldn’t see who it was, but it made no difference. The interruption caused the boy to falter. Whatever semblance of a connection we’d managed to create was broken, and his face grew stormy again, black eyes fixed on mine.
“Are you trying to trick me, human?” he hissed. “You want all of us dead? Swallowed up by the earth like my parents were?”
“It’s not like that,” I insisted.
He reached into the back of his robe, and before I could move, he’d whipped out a scythe, holding the blunted and rusted blade toward my throat. He moved closer, his breath hot and putrid on my face.
“Another word, and you’ll be joining them.”
“STOP!” Ragnhild cried.
I held my breath, staring into the eyes of the stranger who threatened me, wondering if today I was going to die.
Ash
We stared down at the bodies of the ministers, floating peacefully underwater.
“Are they dead?” Ruby asked.
“Only one way to find out,” Tejus retorted, his expression murderous. He leaned into the water, grasping the nearest Impartial Minister by the lapels of his robe. He yanked the old sentry upward, laying him out on the side of the basin and shaking him awake.
“Ash, get another one out,” he commanded, still preoccupied with trying to wake the first. I did as he’d asked, leaning in and submerging my arms in the warm water till I could grab hold of another. I hauled him out, his clothing water-logged and heavy, and pulled him over the side. He didn’t look alive.
Tejus’s minister gasped, and then choked, shoving Tejus back.
“What in the name of Nevertide are you doing?” the minister roared.
“I could very well ask you the same question,” Tejus snapped back, undeterred by the quivering rage of the Impartial Minister.
“This is the water of Lyis; it has healing properties—we were near dead!” the minister spluttered. “And you, son of Hellswan, have the audacity to rip us from our sacred ritual!”
Tejus pushed the minister back in disgust, leaning against one of the columns and crossing his arms as he looked down at the old sentry with as much disdain as he could muster.
“I want answers from you.” Tejus spoke in a bored monotone, glancing over at me. Hastily, I shook the second minister awake. He coughed, spraying water over his already sodden clothing, and then stared around, wild-eyed and just as furious as the first.
“Answers from both of you,” Tejus continued, before the second minister had time to condemn us for the rude awakening.
“Why should we speak to you?” the first one demanded. “You gave up your kingship, Tejus—you have no right to demand anything from us.”