The Lion Soul by Amy Sumida
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I was doomed.
There had been no chance to escape during the night; the Farungals watched me constantly, as if sensing that I was waiting for them to lower their guard. By the end of my second day on Alantri, I was marched into an imposing castle, its sheer, gray walls manned by monsters.
I've never been inside a building that was so cold—colder than it was outside. I'd read that Farungals gave off a chill as others give off heat, and I'd felt it when they'd drawn near, but I didn't expect their castle to do the same. At first, I thought it was a spell but then I realized that it was simply the Farungals themselves. They radiated cold and the stones of the castle absorbed it. Basically, it was an enormous icebox, with the Farungals serving as the ice.
I expected to be taken directly to a dungeon and tortured. Imagine my surprise when I was marched into a throne room instead. After seeing the bare hallways, lacking even the most basic of adornments, and passing a dining hall lined with feeding troughs instead of tables, I was even more shocked by the grandeur of this room than I was to be in it. The Farungals who escorted me were dressed plainly, most wearing only loose pants, and those in the throne room weren't much better. Some had robes thrown on over their pants, but, generally, they were bare-chested and barefoot, claws clicking on the floor as they milled about.
Columns ran to either side of the long room, defining a central, rectangular space. They were gilded, the gold shining dully in the light of chandeliers shaped like dragons in flight. Scenes of the great beasts were painted on the walls as well, some I assumed to be life-size representations, so that it felt as if I had walked into a dragon den. At the end of the room, where I was taken, a throne stood on a dais covered in plush, crimson rugs. The seat had deadly points defining it and its back soared several feet toward the domed ceiling, but the most ferocious aspect of the throne was its occupant.
A female Farungal sat on the throne, her sex evident only because of her breasts, which had been lifted and covered with a corset covered in golden scales. They reminded me of the scales of my Shirie form and that unsettled me for some reason. There were far more upsetting things in the room, but it was those scales that worried me. The scales and the amulet that hung just above them.
“You're certain he's the one?” the woman who I assumed was their Queen asked.
One of the Farungals stepped forward and laid my swords at her feet. “We're certain, Your Majesty.”
I stared at my swords, their proximity taunting me, then met the Queen's gaze. She was smiling—a terrible thing to see on a Farungal. That smile was full of sharp teeth, bloody remnants of her last meal, and malice. She stood up, claws clicking at the end of her spindly arms, and stepped forward. A long, golden skirt trailed behind her, and her crown, a vicious thing of gold dragon horns, caught the light as she stepped over my swords, her skirt hiding them briefly before she continued down the dais to me. Her dark gaze roamed my face and one hand lifted to my cheek. I held steady as she scraped a claw along my cheekbone, drawing blood.
“Pretty boy,” she purred, then licked the drop of blood from her claw. “Yes, you're just as he said you'd be.”
I blinked, that was all, but she caught my surprise and chittered in delight.
“So confused, aren't you?” The Queen circled me and my guards stepped back, hurrying out of her way like cockroaches from light. “Why did we target you? How did we know to look for you? Who is the 'he' that I refer to?”
“I assume it was Ry'zaran, your God,” I said.
The Queen lost her grin and narrowed her eyes at me. “Very good, my pet. Yes, our great Father came to me and told me all about you. He even told me where to look for you—that all you valorians were gathering at one camp. Very foolish indeed.”
I grunted.
“No shock or horror at being betrayed?” she asked casually.
“He is not my God; I never fully trusted him.” It was true, I'd never completely trusted Ry'zaran, but I had believed in him and beneath my bravado, I was disappointed. In a way, he was my father too.
The Queen grimaced irritably. “Stoic, just as he said. Fine, you'll be no fun, but I don't need you angry. I just need you to bleed.” She glanced over her shoulder pensively, then turned and picked up my swords. “These will do.” She pointed at some of her guards with my swords. “Bring him!”
The Farungal Queen marched out of the throne room with my swords, her long, clawed fingers wrapped around both sheaths. I was shoved along after her, out into the hallway and then down a set of stairs. We went deep into the bowels of the castle where the cold became harsh enough to frost my breath. At last, we entered a room that I would have called a laboratory if it hadn't been for all the manacles set into the walls and the iron cage in one corner.
At least it was more like what I'd been expecting. I made a soft grunt of confirmation.
“Remove his shirt and shackle him.” The Queen waved imperiously toward a set of manacles on a wall.
One of my manacles was removed, and I stripped out of my tunic before they could tear it off me. They were careful to keep the remaining manacle on me until they'd shackled my feet and my other wrist to the wall. Only then did they remove the manacles I'd arrived in and secure me in a spread-eagle position against the frigid stone.
As this was happening, the Queen went to the central and largest table in the room. She set down my swords and started to prepare her equipment. These weren't just beakers, vials, and burners that were common in most laboratories, but also occult tools with strange symbols inscribed on them. The table itself had a circular symbol carved into it, right in the top-center. I recognized none of the symbols, but then, I don't practice death magic.
Death magic. It was right in the name. She'd need death to fuel her spell, and I was the only prisoner in the room.
Most of the guards left but two took up positions near the door where they watched me with covetous eyes as they licked their lips. The Queen barely paid them any attention, she was too busy grinding pungent herbs and chanting over them. She lit several oil lamps and set tubes of liquids over them to bubble. So many little bottles of things whose scents stung my nose. So many tools that confounded me. I tried to remain detached, watching her dispassionately, but my thoughts raced ahead to my rapidly approaching end. I had never feared death before, but now my body ran hot and cold with dread. Because death would mean this life was over and with it would go the chance of ever seeing Kaelen again.
Facing death, brought regrets. I should have told Kaelen how much he meant to me, even if I wasn't ready to say that I loved him. All of my meditating had never been able to slip past the barriers I'd built in my mind. Calm and focus never illuminated the truths in my heart. Everything else became so clear when I meditated, but not that. Never that. I suspected that I had loved Kaelen from the very beginning. Maybe even before I had seen his face.
With that knowledge, that acceptance, I could actually feel my heart expand—feel that empty space open to draw Kaelen inside. A piece of his soul had been hovering around the edges of my heart, waiting patiently for me to accept its presence and welcome it in. How very like Kaelen. Patient. Steady. True. I could find no fault in him. Only that his perfection made me feel unworthy. But I was over that too.
He'd tried so hard to give me what I needed. Kae thought he failed, but he hadn't. He had given me a new home and a family, they just weren't in Varalorre. My fellow valorians had become my siblings and as far as a home, it was wherever Kaelen was, just as he vowed to me that day in Varalorre. His heart was my home. His arms. His smile. Maybe we were mates, maybe not. It didn't matter anymore. I suppose nothing would matter for long. I'd likely be dead by morning.
I hung my head and prayed, not to my old Gods but my new ones—the Goddess and her Beasts. Please forgive me for squandering your gift. And don't let my failure hurt Kaelen. Send him another valorian, I beg you. Send him a man who will be as open and loving as he is. Not someone closed off like me. Send him a valorian who can take my place and end this war. Please don't punish them for my mistake.
I don't know if they heard me, but at least I tried.
