Suriax (15 page)

“Uncle, I didn’t ,” Kern pleaded.

“Do not tell me lies. I knew . . . I knew
what you were becoming, and I didn’t stop you. Her death is as much
my fault as yours. I should have stopped you. I failed your mother.
I failed you. For that, I am sorry.” He turned to go. “I can’t do
this anymore. This is the last time we will speak. Goodbye,
Kern.”

“No!” Kern raced to the door, but the guard
slammed it in his face, and for the first time since his mother
died, Kern cried.

* * *

How much time passed, he did not know. The
only light in the cell came from a small lantern near the ceiling.
No one else visited him, not that he expected them to. If Frex
believed him guilty and never wanted to see him again, he could
only imagine the reaction he would get from his siblings. They
hardly even knew him. They had no reason to believe in his
innocence. Still, when he was finally led from the room and brought
to the courts before them, he felt the last of his hope die.
Pielere and Mirerien couldn’t even look him in the eye. That was
still better than Eirae, who looked at him with unveiled contempt.
He argued again, it was a mistake, but no one was listening.

After a while he stopped arguing and sat in
stunned silence. He didn’t resist when they led him back to the
cell. They would most likely have him executed. That didn’t bother
him so much. He killed enough people over the years that it was
probably justified. What did bother him was the thought of Marcy’s
killer on the loose. Who would want to kill her? Why set him up for
it? Would they go after other people he cared for? Maybe bringing
his uncle here hadn’t protected him at all. Maybe it put him in
greater danger. There were too many unknowns.

The door opened, someone entering the cell,
but he didn’t bother looking up, expecting it was someone dropping
off food. He couldn’t remember the last time he ate, not that he
had any appetite. It occurred to him the only person who would want
to hurt him who had the connections to plan something like this,
was Maerishka. She probably wanted to ruin his reputation so that,
should he try to take the throne from her, he would not receive any
support from Aleria.

Kern looked up and saw he was wrong about the
identity of his visitor. Mirerien stood by the door. Her eyes
squinted in distress. Without a word, she turned to leave.

“Wait!” He stood, his legs unsteady from
hours of sitting. “I didn’t kill her, and you know it. You must let
me out.”

“I cannot circumvent the law based on a
feeling.” Her eyes burned through him.

“So instead you let an innocent man be
convicted of a crime he didn’t commit?”

“Can you tell me how you came to have her
blood on you or how your blade was used to stab her
repeatedly?”

Kern cringed. The description of Marcy’s
death was painful to hear. Her attack spoke of rage, lending
credence to the theory Kern killed her out of jealousy. “I’m being
set up,” he answered weakly.

Mirerien’s eyes softened. “I know.”

Nothing left to say, she left. He didn’t know
what he expected her to do. He was on his own.

Chapter 7

Kern waited, a plan beginning to form. He
needed to find the person responsible for Marcy’s death and clear
his name. Practicing with calling his fire, he sat by the door of
his cell. They brought him food twice a day, all he had to do was
time things right. Humming a song to keep himself awake, he still
fought against sleep. It wasn’t that he was all that tired, but
squatting by the door, poised to strike, staring at a plain stone
wall, took its toll. When he finally heard the door knob turn, it
startled him out of a half sleep. He almost burned the guard by
accident, barely missing as he shot fire past the guard’s leg. The
man jumped back reflexively, and Kern pushed the door into him,
knocking the man over and buying himself a few seconds to run past
him. Ducking into a side hall, he heard the man call out for help.
Other guards ran past his hiding place. Grabbing a lone guard, he
knocked the man unconscious and took his coat and hat. Then he
rushed down another hall, blending in to the chaos surrounding his
jailbreak. He kept a low profile, making his way through the city.
By nightfall he reached the southern gates.

Kern looked down the long bridge home. He
never thought he would return to Suriax, yet here he was. Still
posing as a guard, he easily slipped past the gate. Ditching the
uniform in the crowd, he took in the chaos around him. The few
riots that had sprung up in Aleria were nothing compared to what he
found in Suriax. People were fighting, some out of anger, some for
fun. Fire shot out through the air at every turn. Buildings burned,
people screamed. Getting to the palace without being stopped was
easy. He grabbed an extra change of clothes from home so he could
be recognized as one of the Flame Guard. Looking at Frex’s chair
and clothes threatened to break his self control. He steeled
himself against the pain of Frex’s disappointment and pushed on. He
didn’t have time to feel bad for himself. Once he cleared his name,
hopefully things would go back to the way they were between
them.

It didn’t take him long to find Maerishka.
She was always in the gardens this time of day. He saw her seated
by a fountain talking to a robed man. The man’s cowl shifted and
Kern felt himself go numb. It was Cornerbluff. He was alive. They
laughed, Maerishka asking about his mission. He described, in
horrific detail, murdering Marcy and framing Kern. “It was simple,”
he boasted. “I posed as a servant and put a sleep potion in his
drink. He didn’t wake until the next morning when the body was
found. He was still covered in the blood I poured on him. When I
left, they had him on trial for her murder. He may even have been
executed already. You won’t have to worry about Kern Tygierrenon
again.”

“Excellent.” Maerishka stood and handed him a
small leather sack. It landed in his hands with a jingle, coins
falling from the loose opening in the top. “Worth every
silver.”

She left Cornerbluff to count his rewards. So
distracted was he, he did not see Kern approach until he was only a
few inches away. Cornerbluff jumped. Coins dropped to the ground,
rolling out of sight.

“Remember me?” he backed away a few steps. “I
remember you. I remember killing you. Guess once wasn’t enough.
Should I try again?”

“Wait, I was just following orders. It wasn’t
personal.”

“Wasn’t personal? You killed a woman. What
did she ever do to you? She was innocent. If you had a problem with
me, come after me.”

“I was following orders,” he said again.

“Orders? Orders?” Kern let his anger rise.
“She wasn’t orders. She was a person. She had a name, a life, a
family. You took all that away.” Cornerbluff backed away from
Kern’s tirade, but he kept pressing forward. “You killed her.
Maerishka may have ordered it, but you are the one who took her
life. You are the one who savagely stabbed her and took her away
from those who love her. You could have said ‘no,’ but you didn’t.
You could have said ‘no.’”

Cornerbluff bumped into a column and stopped,
no where else to go. He looked around frantically. “I didn’t do
anything wrong. Espionage killing in Aleria for the queen is only
illegal if you get caught.”

“But it was wrong,” Kern thundered. At the
look of complete bafflement from the old half gnome, Kern stopped.
A week earlier, their roles could have been reversed. Was this what
he sounded like justifying his actions to Eirae and Pielere? He
felt bile rise in his throat at the thought. Disgusted, he walked
off. Cornerbluff shifted his weight in confusion. “You aren’t going
to kill me?”

Kern stopped and considered. “No, it wouldn’t
do any good. She’s dead. Killing you won’t bring her back. But if
you or Maerishka ever come after someone I care about again, I will
track you both down and show you the same mercy you showed
Marcy.”

Walking away, he felt lightheaded. Dizziness
sent him spinning. He fell to his knees to avoid hurting himself
should he lose consciousness.

“Are you okay?” a woman asked.

Kern looked up, his vision clearing, and saw
Marcy kneeling beside him. He stood and took a step back. His
clothes were changed back to what he wore in Aleria the day she
died, but they were not stained with blood. His surroundings had
changed as well. No longer standing in Maerishka’s garden, instead
he stood in the hallway leading to his room in the Alerian palace.
Marcy looked at him with concern, clearly worried by his strange
behavior, but unsure what to say. Thomas stood behind. It was then
he remembered where he was. “I’m fine. I just need to rest.” Unable
to stop staring at her, afraid she would disappear should he look
away, he backed up several more steps before finally turning to go.
Thomas followed after, pulling Kern aside.

“Is this about what you saw just now? I’ve
been wanting to talk to you about Marcy. I know we never discussed
what she is to you, and I don’t want to step on your toes. It just
sort of happened,” Thomas rambled on guiltily.

It took a moment to remember what he was
referring to, his mind still partially lost in that weird dream
world. “It’s fine. Whatever feelings I may have had for her don’t
matter. We were only ever friends.” At one time, he may have been
angry or jealous. Now he was just relieved she lived.

“Are you sure,” Thomas’ eyes beamed with
relief. He obviously cared a great deal for her and would cherish
her. She deserved that.

“Yes.”

Thomas smiled and left Kern alone with his
thoughts. What was that weird dream? It felt incredibly real. He
still felt the weight of his chains and could still smell the blood
on his clothes. Maybe it was a side effect of the blue fire, or
maybe his head injury was more severe than he thought.

“Eirae,” Mirerien called.

“Over here,” Eirae answered from his seat by
the garden, a small book in his hand. He still sat where Kern left
him, as though he was waiting for something. Putting the book away,
he stood and greeted his sister.

“I require your assistance. There is a young
man accused of setting fire to a building. Thankfully no one died,
but there were injuries. I know he is lying about not being there,
but I cannot get him to admit what part he played in the fire. He
is being very non-cooperative. Could you use your persuasion to get
to the truth?”

“Of course.”

“Bring him,” she called. The guards led a
young half elf boy to stand before them. The boy shook but stood
defiantly tall.

Eirae put a hand on his shoulder and spoke
with a hauntingly soft voice. “We need to know what happened so we
can prevent further injury.”

The boy swayed, his eyes glassing over. Then
he snapped to full attention and looked around in a panic. “What am
I . . . what is going on? How am I back here?”

“How did the fire start?” Eirae asked without
acknowledging his questions.

The boy looked away with a mixture of guilt
and pain. “It was my girlfriend. She is Suriaxian. I just wanted to
see the fire. She said she could control it, but she couldn’t put
it out.” His eyes were haunted. “She didn’t want to hurt
anyone.”

Kern felt his jaw go slack. He waited for
Eirae and Mirerien to be alone and stepped into the sunlight. “You
did the same thing to me that you did to him. You messed with my
head, gave me that nightmare.”

“Nightmare?” Mirerien asked. “What did you
do?” She eyed Eirae reproachably.

“I only planted a suggestion. Your conscience
did the rest,” he said to Kern. “If you had no guilt, it would not
have worked.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Look, no offence, but we don’t know you,” he
answered matter-of-factly. “And we’ve been burned by family before.
I’m not about to let it happen again. I had to be sure we could
trust you.”

That made some sense, but he still did not
like the idea of being manipulated. “And what, you can just make
people see whatever you want?”

“Not exactly. Your mind came up with your
torture. You had your own doubts. I just made you face them.”

“Eirae!” Mirerien admonished. “He is our
brother, not some criminal.” He shrugged.

“How?” He could worry about the why or being
angry with his brother later, Right now, he wanted to understand
how something like this was even possible.

“Don’t know. I realized I could do it while
interrogating prisoners. It’s a very effective means of getting
confessions.” His eyes gleamed with smug satisfaction.

“What are you people? How can you do these
things? This isn’t normal. Normal people don’t manipulate dreams or
hear strangers’ prayers, or act as some truth detector.”

“Hear prayers?” Mirerien asked.

“Pielere,” Eirae explained.

“Ah,” she said, understanding.

“This is what I’m talking about. You aren’t
even surprised.”

They shared a look. “We have felt different
for some time,” Mirerien said. “As our names grew, and more people
began to ask for our help in settling disputes, we each noticed
changes; slowed aging, a boost in energy after celebrations in our
name. We don’t understand the cause, but we ceased to be surprised
by these anomalies long ago.”

“And we would prefer if they did not become
common knowledge,” Eirae added, pointedly.

Kern bristled. “You think I’m going to go
around revealing your secrets?”

“I return to my earlier comment. We don’t
know you.”

Mirerien put a hand on Eirae’s arm and shot
him a look. “Do you promise not to tell anyone?”

Kern almost answered automatically that he
would not. Then he saw the intense way she stared at him and
realized she was using her truth telling ability to see if he would
lie to them. “Trust me or don’t. I don’t care. If you are so
paranoid that you can’t trust anyone without cheating, then I feel
sorry for you.” She had the decency to look away guiltily. “I think
my being here is a mistake. I’m thankful our uncle has a safe place
to stay, but that little nightmare of yours pointed out a loose end
I need to take care of if I want him to stay safe.” Not waiting for
a reply, he left.