“Shut your mouth,” Dyraien said to Zinc. “Just shut up. Shut up!” He ran his hand through his hair. A wild panic set in his eyes. “You can’t know that. There’s no way you could possibly know that.”
“There’s still time to make this right,” Sornjia said.
Dyraien eyed him. “Who are you?”
“I’m someone who can help you.”
For a second, a look of defeat, or maybe it was relief, flashed in Dyraien’s eyes. Tahki thought he might actually release Sornjia. But then his face hardened. “You’re trying to trick me. Distract me. I don’t know who sent you, but I don’t play other people’s games. I’m the one in control here.”
“I don’t think you’re as in control as you think you are,” Sornjia said.
Dyraien made a fist and brought it hard against Sornjia’s jaw. Tahki heard bone meet bone and cringed. If it hurt, Sornjia didn’t show it. Tahki’d never seen Dyraien look so unsuppressed. So out of control. His hair hung in clumps over his eyes; his breath came in ragged waves, like something had broken inside him. But a moment later he composed himself. He brushed his hair back and took a deep breath.
“We need to act now,” Dyraien said to Zinc.
“Now?” Zinc licked his lips. “But they ain’t done putting the castle together.”
“It needs to be now,” Dyraien said. “We have a real traitor to blame.”
Zinc hesitated a moment and then flashed a yellow-toothed grin. “What about Rye?”
“Rye will believe what I tell him.” Dyraien clenched his teeth and looked at Sornjia. “Family always forgive one another, no matter how terrible a crime they commit.” He faced Zinc. “Go.”
Zinc cracked his knuckles. “Won’t be long.” He used his belt to tie Sornjia’s hands, and then he walked toward the door. Tahki jumped under the wooden stairs and crouched in the shadows. Zinc ran up and out of sight. Tahki wanted to follow, fearful of what the man might do, but hated the idea of leaving Sornjia alone with Dyraien. He crept back to the door and peered inside. Even with Zinc gone, he didn’t think he could take Dyraien in a fight. If he was caught too, what good would he be to his brother?
“Tell me something,” Dyraien said to Sornjia. “Your passion for architecture, all those times your eyes flared with excitement when I spoke to you about the project, your constant need for approval… was it all a lie? An act?” He bent down, reached out, rested his hand on Sornjia’s shoulder. “How could you be dishonest with me, after all I’ve done for you?”
Sornjia stared back at him. “Your words fall from your mouth the way acid rain falls in the jungle.”
Dyraien stood. “I liked you, you know. I don’t like many people, but your passion for technology impressed me. I thought you would understand what I’m trying to achieve.”
“You know what you’re doing is wrong. It’s why you didn’t tell Rye. You knew he’d try to stop you.”
Any chance to reason with Dyraien faded. A fierce defensiveness came into his voice. “Rye is my brother. Mine. If you think he’ll choose you over me just because you opened your legs for him, you’re going to be thoroughly disappointed.”
And then Dyraien stepped back and coughed hard. He rubbed his eyes vigorously, ruffled his hair into a frantic mess, and proceeded to slap himself across the face again and again and again, until his checks burned bright red.
Tahki watched, both curious and horrified at the prince’s odd behavior. Sornjia, too, appeared at a loss as to why Dyraien beat himself. By the time Zinc returned, Dyraien looked crazed and fevered. Zinc, unaffected by his dishevelment, grabbed Sornjia and shoved a rag in his mouth.
“Done,” Zinc said.
Dyraien panted. “Good.” And then said in a hesitant voice, “Was it quick?”
Zinc shrugged. “Does it matter? What’s done is done.”
Dyraien nodded, more to himself than to Zinc. “And Rye? He didn’t see you?”
“Everyone is on the third floor,” Zinc said. “They’ve started the isolation.”
“You mean the installation,” Dyraien corrected.
“Tomato, potato.” Zinc spat.
“Very well. Let’s get on with the show. Give me two minutes, then bring him up.”
“Alive?”
“Of course alive.”
Tahki hid again as Dyraien left the black gates and limped upstairs. This time, Tahki followed him. He waited a moment and watched as Dyraien moved into the center of the entranceway. When his back was turned, Tahki darted behind a partially broken pillar. He barely had time to take cover before Dyraien’s voice rang through the halls. “Rye! Gale! Anyone! Come quickly!”
It didn’t take long for Rye and some of Zinc’s men to appear. A few pieces of obsidian cut Tahki’s leg as he kneeled. He ignored the sharp pokes.
“What’s wrong?” Rye said as he reached the bottom step. “What happened to you?”
Dyraien’s body shook. “Mother, she… she….”
“What?”
Dyraien swallowed. “She’s been killed.”
Tahki felt cold.
Rye stared. “The queen is dead?”
Dyraien nodded. “She was killed. Murdered in her own bed.”
Rye darted up the staircase. Tahki didn’t dare think what Zinc had done. What Dyraien had told him to do. But Rye reappeared a moment later, a look of shock on his face, and Tahki covered his mouth with his hand. It didn’t make sense. Why would Dyraien have his own mother killed, after going to great lengths to keep her alive and take care of her?
“Who would have done something like this?” Rye said. He put his hand to his forehead and took a deep breath. “Zinc. It had to be Zinc.” Tahki felt a surge of gratitude toward Rye. He wanted to jump out and tell him it was true, Zinc had killed Queen Genevi, but he wouldn’t risk it with Sornjia still held hostage.
“It wasn’t Zinc,” Dyraien whispered.
“How do you know?”
“Because I saw who did it.”
“Who? Who did this?”
Dyraien’s jaw trembled. “I trusted him. He was so smart, so kind. I never thought he was capable of something like this.”
“Dyraien, who are you talking about?”
All the blood
