Page 152 of Deadly Maiden

I’m sure my eyes widen.

“You did this?” He’s wearing King Madlin’s body, and so answering with ayesfeels dangerous. “Killed the queen and whoever this man is? And is that the daughter?”

“I did all of this, yes.” Minus Kroll but I’d be nitpicking to say that. “I must ask you this. Are you Asher Stryke, brother of Jannik Stryke, once the king of Orencia?”

“Am I?” He lurches backward then goes to the sarcophagus where he perches his royal rear on it, having merely steered a path around Jennae’s remains. He rubs his face vigorously with both hands. “Who am I? I need to see myself in a mirror. You sayI am in King Madlin’s body. Our enemy? And if so, am I him? If that is true, then you have killed my own people? No. No. That’s stupid. I amnotthat pig of a fae!”

“No. You are not.” Rorsyd goes to him and explains in an almost angry tone, “I met your brother at the Battle of Orish, a battle where he was captured and your kingdom ceased to exist. The man whose skin you wear has been torturing your brother outside the palace walls.” He jabs his arm sideways. “Out there next to the harbor, for twenty fucking years!”

Now he’s shouting. I stay with the sister and watch. Is this how to convince Madlin-Asher this is all true?

“He what? Twenty years have passed since then? Where have I been? What battle is this!”

“Your mind was preserved in a special way, by my parents, on the day you died.” I bite my lip. “You died. I brought you back and put you in that body and that mind.” Now I’m jabbing my finger at him. He needs to understand.

That I’m even able to talk to him is amazing.

“My brother?” he says softly.

I stop dead, my mouth open, thinking. He notices and stands up, brushes past Rorsyd, who follows Madlin-Asher until he halts before me.

“What is it you wish to say? More insane facts?”

“No necromancer ever achieved this before today, and I have to say, I am tired of being interrogated as if I did something wrong!”

Though depending on your point of view, I have done many wrongs or everything right.

The sister sighs. “Please. We need to be at peace to find a solution.”

“Ah. Peace.” He stares past me then takes in the carnage again and says quietly, “I’m awake after twenty years dead. Ineed time to process this.” He turns and goes partway up the stairs. “Out there. Where I can see more of the world.”

“Stop.” Sister Paloma holds up her hand. “If you want to leave, you can, but if we do this the wrong way, these two will be killed byyour, King Madlin’s, guards and soldiers. There is a rebellion happening, and everyone is on edge. When they see this…” She gestures at the bodies. “They may simply attack Wyntre and Rorsyd. I was one of the king’s advisors, and I can help you navigate this unusual situation.”

“Very well. I see.” He stays where he is. Strangely, in that dark coat of Madlin’s he already looks more regal than the real Madlin ever did. “Tell me your advice.”

“Let’s let her do this?” I murmur.

Rorsyd nods. “Sure. Come and sit with me over there.”

And so we listen to her talk to him, explaining first of all that he must never reveal he was once Asher Stryke. Meaning, she has already decided that what I said is true. Then she lays out how difficult it will be to end the rebellion and meet with Andacc without a bad end to the war. How difficult it will be to explain that the queen and Kroll betrayed him and tried to kill him but that we saved him. He listens intently, shows no sign of dying abruptly, and nods a lot.

At last, she comes to us and says, “This is how we will do this. Mostly, because few will swallow a story about you rescuing the king from his queen, unless we prepare the ground first.”

I nod. “Okay.”

“So you will first go to prison, overnight. In that time, the king will spread the version of this tomb event that we need known. A falsehood, of course.” She shrugs and offers a weak smile—the first I’ve seen.

“Prison.” Rorsyd sounds dubious.

“Yes. By tomorrow, we will have had time to see the next steps to take. I would prefer that you are whisked away from thecity, removed from sight. I do not see room for you as celebrated heroes. Not here.”

“We don’t need to be seen as heroes of Zardrake do we, Wyntre?”

“No. I only want—” I have to pause and consider this. I take Rorsyd’s forearm and wrap my arm about his elbow. “Rorsyd, mostly, but also just a better kingdom and no need for a rebellion and pardons and an agreement with the C of U and…” I’m stumped as to how to express my wish for less persecution of those seen as outsiders or lower class, less violence, a better ruler, and so much more. I flutter my hands and end with, “Stuff mostly.”

“And this will be done, I assure you. Which is why I first contacted you at Slaedorth. Trust me. I, too, want so much more, and peace, a good, lasting peace that will be blessed by Artreos.”

This is why when we open the door to the tomb, the king goes out first with Sister Paloma, and then he directs his guards to remove us, without injuring us, and take us to the prison of Tensorga.

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