Mortal

Rom felt the blood drain from his face. Surely, he hadn’t heard the words correctly.

“Feyn? What do you mean missing?”

“I mean her body is gone.”

“Gone? It can’t just be gone.”

“I’m sorry, sir. It was there just three days ago.”

“That’s not possible!” His voice rang through the stone sanctum. “She’s been in stasis. She can’t just disappear!”

“Everything in her chamber is as it should be, but her lines have been cut and her body is gone.”

Rom felt the hot prickle of panic against his nape. Lines cut. Feyn gone. There had to be a mistake.

“You went to the wrong crypt, then. Did you see her body being taken?”

Alban’s fear-filled eyes darted to Roland, searching for help.

None would be forthcoming.

“There are no other crypts like it below the Citadel. I’ve been checking the same room for five years now, sir. It’s no mistake. She was taken in the last two days. I came as soon as I could.”

“Then Rowan took her.” Rom spun to the Book, who’d ensured and monitored all of the arrangements for her stasis. “You knew of this?”

His eyes were locked on the spy. “No. Did you go to Rowan with this?”

The spy shook his head. “You yourself instructed me not to. In the case of any tampering with her no one but you was to know. But I spoke to him about some other matters and am certain he knows nothing of her disappearance. He would have said something.”

“If not Rowan, then who?” Rom demanded.

“Saric,” Roland said.

Rom stared at the prince. Just behind him, Saric’s Dark Blood slumped in the interrogation chair, dead from Jonathan’s blood.

“Who else knows?” he demanded of the spy. “How long has she been missing?”

“As I said, two days at most. I swear to you, I came as soon as I discovered the empty chamber.”

There was no deceit in his scent.

“You know nothing else?”

“Nothing.” His voice wavered. His eyes were on the Dark Blood.

“There are no other changes in the Citadel?”

“None that I know of.”

Rom raked at his hair. “Leave us. Wait at the edge of our camp for orders. Speak to no one and be sure to stay downwind.”

The Corpse dipped his head and hurried out. For several long seconds, no one spoke.

Feyn, the once Sovereign to-be.

The sudden swell of emotion coursing through his body surprised him.

“Book?” His voice was raw.

Behind him, the Keeper remained silent.

Rom turned and faced him. “Tell me something, man!”

“We may have a problem,” the old man said softly.

“If what Roland says is true…”

“How would Saric know to look for her?” Triphon asked, rising. “No one but Rowan knew!”

“And that Corpse,” Michael snapped. “We’re fools to trust any of them.”

“We knew,” Seriph said.

They looked at her. “You’re suggesting one of us told Saric?” Triphon demanded.

Seriph shook his head. “I’m only saying what needs to be said. That we were foolish for allowing a dead Sovereign to be kept in stasis to begin with.”

“We?” Rom said, glaring at the Nomad. “Say what you mean. Accuse me. Accuse Book.” He flung his arm out to Jonathan, who stood in the grip of his own distress over the dead Dark Blood. “She gave her life for Jonathan under the express agreement that we would keep her in stasis for nine years until Jonathan took his seat. Once he became Sovereign we were to bring her back to serve under him. But we were the ones saving the woman who died for Jonathan while you were still a desert Corpse!”

“She died to see him to power, not to come back and undo it all!”

“Silence!” the Book snapped, stepping out onto the floor. His eyes were fired, his face cut with an urgency Rom hadn’t seen in many years. “I made the promise with Jonathan’s full agreement.” He stared Seriph down. “Only a fool would question what was done long after it was done. No more of this!”

Rom nodded once. “Roland’s right. We have to assume that this was Saric’s doing.”

Triphon wasn’t ready to assume anything. “But how could he have known-”

“That’s not important now!” Rom said. “No one else in Order would have the same incentive as Saric to take her body. Even if they did, they’d present no threat to Jonathan. But if Feyn is resurrected before Jonathan comes into power, she, not he, will be rightful Sovereign.”

Silence.

“Tell me I’m not right, Book.”

“Yes. The laws of succession are clear. Her claim precedes his. If Feyn is brought back to life before Jonathan takes office, she is Sovereign by right.”

“Then we find her and kill her,” Roland said. “Now. Before Jonathan comes to power.”

“No!” the Book cried. “If Feyn is alive, she is Sovereign already! And if a Sovereign dies, power passes to the last living former Sovereign, not to Jonathan.”

A beat of silence passed between them all.

“Saric,” Rom said.

“Saric?” Roland glanced between them. “I heard nothing of Saric being-”

“Few knew.” Rom paced, one hand digging at the back of his head. “He became Sovereign for a few days when his father died. As Sovereign, he changed the laws of succession. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that if Feyn is alive now, Jonathan will never be Sovereign. And her death would only put Saric in power.”

“As I said,” Seriph murmured. “Keeping her in stasis-”

“Leave us!” Roland thundered.

Seriph blanched.

Roland shoved a finger at the door. “Now.”

The Nomad got up, slowly dipped his head, and strode for the door, jaw tight.

“Your zealots are fools,” Rom said, after the door closed behind him.

“They aren’t my zealots,” Roland corrected. “And they’re not all fools.”

And yet, all of those who’d argued for a more forceful approach to ensuring Jonathan’s coming to power would have to be watched, Rom thought. But for this moment, at least, they had far more immediate issues to deal with.

“You have to find her.”

The voice came from the back, from Jordin. He looked at the young fighter who’d taken up the unspoken role of Jonathan’s second-and perhaps, of late, his closest-protector. Her face was set and her hazel eyes blazed with surety.

“Jonathan owes her his life,” she said.

Rom turned from the girl. “Book? How long can her body survive disconnected from the machines that kept her in stasis?”

The Keeper shook his head. “Forty-eight hours. At most. We must assume Saric has her.”

He had to force himself to say his next words:

“If he has her, he’s killed her already and become Sovereign.”

“No. He will need to establish her as ruling Sovereign first to prove that she is alive. He will need her in power. If Saric has her, he will install her.”

“Or has already.”

“It’s possible.”