Part 5 (1/2)

Almost gently, Indirial slipped his sword point into her ribs and out. The Asphodel Traveler slumped over, a peaceful smile on her face.

Roughly ten seconds after Adessa's rebels first attacked, only three people remained alive in the throne room.

Indirial strolled over to Adessa, who scrambled over the floor tiles on her hands and knees. She finally grasped the Bleeding Wand and spun around, raising it to point at the throne again. She screamed.

Then the Endross thunderstorms exploded.

There was another flash too bright for the scrying lens, and the display whited out. When it cleared, the Wand was nowhere in sight. Adessa lay flat on the floor at the foot of the throne with Indirial standing over her, one foot on her neck. The tip of his sword rested on her back.

Leah risked a glance back at her brother. His face seemed thoughtful, as though he had just received some new piece of data, but his hand tightened on his sword. By contrast, Lysander's mouth hung open a little bit, and his gla.s.ses had been knocked askew.

”I would say six Travelers are not enough for Indirial,” Leah said casually. ”What do you think?”

Overlord Lysander glared at her, but neither of the men said anything.

On the other side of the lens, Leah's father let out a heavy breath. She stared, hoping that Talos hadn't noticed. The King had been holding his breath. He had used no otherworldly protection from poison; he just held his breath and waited for Indirial to clean up the problem.

She supposed it didn't matter, in the end. The King had survived.

King Zakareth rose to his feet. His crimson eye blazed like a star from within the cloud of dust that rose from the shattered wall.

”Adessa, my daughter,” the King said. His voice was cold, but firm. Businesslike. ”I have not named you Successor. I have not given you permission to summon that wand from my Vault. And now you make an attempt on my life in my own throne room. What have you to say in your defense?”

He sounded as though he was conducting normal court business. Not at all as if his own daughter had just tried to kill him.

Indirial took his boot off the back of her neck, letting her struggle to her knees. Her wild hair framed her face like a lion's mane, lending her a frenzied aspect.

”Father, I only meant to take advantage of a temporary weakness,” Adessa said. Her voice was hoa.r.s.e, and she licked her lips as she spoke. ”It was all as you taught me. If I had stood by, I would not be worthy of being named your Successor.”

Zakareth stared at his daughter, saying nothing. Perhaps encouraged by his silence, Adessa tried to climb to her feet, but Indirial put a hand on her shoulder, keeping her in a kneeling position. She tried to push his hand off her shoulder.

Indirial's hand stayed where it was.

The King spoke again, his voice hard and even. ”I held some hope for you, Adessa, despite your past failures. But your actions today have proven that you are not worthy of succeeding me.”

”I have proven only that I*”

”Be silent,” Zakareth said. He did not seem to speak any louder, but somehow his voice resonated through the hall in tones of absolute command. ”You have endangered the Kingdom by threatening to plunge us into a succession during a time of crisis. You have wasted the lives of six Travelers, just when they are most needed. And you have jeopardized our safety in the war for which I have prepared since before you were born.

”You, Adessa, have betrayed the people of Damasca. I name you traitor, and hereby exile you to the Territory of Lirial, where you will remain under the supervision of Overlord Belanine until the end of your days.”

Adessa started shouting, but her father just spoke over her.

”Indirial, make it so,” he said. Indirial bowed from the waist, grabbing the Heiress by her wrist and pulling her along. His black cloak billowed behind him. She struggled, but she might as well have matched her strength against a carthorse.

”I'll be back!” Adessa screamed. ”I'll take your throne from you! I deserve it! It's mine!”

”Stop,” the King said. Indirial stopped, glancing curiously over his shoulder. It looked like he didn't understand what the King was up to any more than Leah did.

Adessa saw her chance and seized it. ”You can't do this to me,” she said.

Zakareth walked up to his daughter and put his face inches from hers. He lowered his voice, but he spoke so firmly that Leah could still understand each word. At last, a touch of anger entered his tone.

”I will be clear with you, because you are my daughter. If you were not a Ragnarus Traveler, I would simply execute you. But I would prefer you alive, so I will leave you with three choices. First, I can exile you to Lirial, where you will be safe but powerless to cause any greater harm. Or, if you prefer, I could always feed you to the Hanging Tree. The sacrifice was late this year.”

Adessa flinched and looked away from her father's face. She obviously knew what such a sacrifice meant.

”Third,” the King continued relentlessly, ”I could instead exile you to Enosh. I can arrange to have you dropped at one of the Naraka waypoints controlled by the Enosh Grandmasters. They would take you in gladly enough, and you know how they would treat you. As a Ragnarus Traveler. As my daughter. You would taste the full extent of Enoshahospitality.”

Adessa licked her lips. Her eyes bounced everywhere, looking for an escape.

”Choose,” King Zakareth said, his voice resonating with hard anger.

”Lirial,” Adessa whispered.

”So be it,” he responded. ”One moment, Indirial.”

Then King Zakareth straightened up and turned toward what, to him, would be a blank stretch of wall. Through the scrying lens, his eyes met Leah's. His red eye flared.

”I hope you learned something today, Leah,” her father said calmly.

Then the view through the lens winked out.

Leah realized she was holding her breath and clutching the arms of her chair as though trying to crush them to splinters. She let out her breath in a whoosh, then waved her hand, cutting off the power that kept her scrying lens active. It shrank back to the size of a dinner plate and popped off the wall, clattering to the floor.

Everyone was silent for a second. Then Talos spoke. ”Sometimes,” he said, ”I wonder if there's anything our father doesn't know.”

Lysander spoke into Talos' ear. ”We should go. If he saw us herea” The Overlord was clearly trying to keep his voice down, but Leah had no trouble hearing him.

Talos shrugged and rose to his feet. ”Well, at least we learned something today. We'll have to remove Indirial first, before we make our move.”

”If you can,” Leah said lightly. She toyed with her crystal bracelet, trying to seem unconcerned.

Overlord Lysander opened his mouth, but Talos cut him off with a gesture. He bowed to Leah, a broad smile on his face. With his golden hair and chiseled features, he looked like the rightful Successor to the Damascan throne.

”Farewell, little sister,” he said. ”Don't do anything rash, and I see no reason why we can't be friends.”

He moved toward the door, but something occurred to Leah. There were no other Heirs or Heiresses still in the running to become Successor. Adessa had been exiled, Cynara was mad, and her little brother Petrin had died years before. Why would he want to share information with his one remaining rival?

She considered and discarded half a dozen subtle ways of determining his motivation, but there was one he would never expect. She could ask him.

”Why did you come to me with this?” Leah asked.