“Be careful,” Tahki said. “My name is one of those names where if you say it too many times, it starts to sound strange.”
Rye looked behind him. He turned to the left, to the right, and then stared straight ahead. “I don’t understand.”
“Don’t understand what?”
Rye appeared dazed. “I just saw you a second ago.”
“What?”
“You and I, we were just outside together. I called your name, but you ignored me.”
“Are you sure it was me?”
Rye licked his lips. “Is this a game or something?” He squinted. “And how did you change your clothing so fast?”
Tahki almost smiled, almost laughed at how Rye had mistook him for one of Zinc’s men, but then his feet went cold, then his legs, arms, all the way up to his neck. The sounds of the men and women became a faint ringing in his ears. Rye’s face blurred, his lips moving a centimeter a minute. Rye hadn’t mistaken him for one of Zinc’s men.
Sornjia was here. Sornjia had come to the castle.
“Are you all right?”
Tahki blinked. “Where did you say you saw me?”
“While it’s nice to learn you have a sense of humor,” Rye said, “do you think this is an appropriate time for jokes?”
“Rye. Where did you see me?” He nearly yelled it. One of Zinc’s men eyed the two of them.
Rye gave him a concerned look. “Outside. And then you headed down to the basement. I tried to catch up, but they needed me here.” He hesitated and then said, “I guess I saw wrong.”
Panic swept through Tahki. “Where is Dyraien?”
“Haven’t seen him.”
A crash outside drew Rye’s attention. “Dammit,” he said. “That’s the third one.” He looked back at Tahki. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but we’ll talk later.”
Tahki nodded, and Rye jogged over to a fallen crate. Tahki darted left, grabbed the door down to the basement, yanked it open, and sprinted into the dark. When he reached the black gates, he stopped. They were pulled shut, and he feared they might be locked, until a cool draft brushed his face. The gates were opened. Only a crack, but enough to see through. Tahki pressed an eye to the slit and peered into the circular dirt room.
Dyraien and Zinc stood in the center. Tahki pushed the gate open an inch more so he could see better. The sound of the rumbling river was enough to block any creaks. He viewed the entire room, but his eyes fixed on Zinc.
There, grasped tight in his thick hands, Sornjia slouched. He was forced to his knees, his head lowered, not resisting.
Tahki’s heart thudded fast.
“I told you he was trouble,” Zinc said. “Knew the first moment I seen him he was a spy.”
“Let’s not be hasty,” Dyraien said. “I’m sure he has a good explanation for doing what he did.”
Sornjia stayed quiet but glanced to his left.
Tahki pressed his eye closer. In the corner of the room he saw a dark heap: a man. His arms and legs were tied, his face bruised, his eyes crusted shut. He wore red and gold robes. His bald head bled a little.
Gotem. Sornjia must have tried to rescue him but was caught in the process. How he’d known where to look, Tahki didn’t know.
Dyraien followed Sornjia’s gaze to Gotem. “That man tried to sabotage my castle.” He knelt down, grabbed Sornjia’s chin, and raised his head. “What concerns me is how you knew about him and why you tried to free him.”
Sornjia kept his lips pressed tight.
“It’s in your best interest to speak,” Dyraien said. “Here I am, accusing you of something very serious, and you haven’t said a word. I’m giving you a chance to explain yourself, Tahki.” Zinc dug his knee into Sornjia’s back.
Tahki felt sick. There was no more planning, no more wondering how he’d confront Dyraien, no more worrying how he’d explain himself to Rye. His time was up. Sornjia had been captured. Now, both Dyraien and Rye would know the lies he’d told.
Dyraien released Sornjia’s face. “You know, I hadn’t noticed it until now, but your skin, it looks like his, slightly golden, a trait specifically belonging to a certain region of the world.” He motioned toward Gotem. “Which makes me want to ask if you’re from Dhaulen’aii. If you came here to gather information about the queen and bring it back to your people.”
Sornjia didn’t look at him.
“Answer him,” Zinc said, and twisted his arm in an unnatural angle. Tahki had never felt such a burning desire to take someone’s life before.
Dyraien held up his hand. “His silence tells me everything I need to know. Tie him up with the monk.”
“You’re a crow,” Sornjia said.
Dyraien faced him. “I’m a what?”
“A crow,” Sornjia said. “A liar. A trickster. You climb into shadows and turn day into night.”
Dyraien stared. “The way you talk. It’s like before, when I saw you at Gale’s.”
Tahki dug his nails into the wood of the door. He had no idea how he’d get Sornjia free without being seen. He could attack them, but he had no weapons.
“You need to stop this, Dyraien,” Sornjia said. “Your family has done wrong, but you can stop the wickedness. I know deep down you’re not like your mother.”
Dyraien smirked. “You don’t know anything.”
With a straight, calm face, Sornjia said, “I know you’re trying to open the Dim. I know Gotem isn’t a spy, he’s a mystic. You’ve stolen him from his home and are going to use him to open the Dim, just like your mother and grandmother and great-grandmother and great-great-grandmother. You turned the castle into a weapon in order to keep the pathway open.”
Tahki watched as the persona Dyraien had played over the weeks crumbled. The charming, well-to-do prince shattered, and he was left gaping, his eyes wide, his face frozen in shock. If the world could see him now, Tahki wouldn’t need Gotem or the stone to prove Dyraien’s guilt.
“This some kinda joke?” Zinc said. “How does he know about
