Page 87 of Captive of the Stolen Empire

Brishon’s interruption had my brows reaching skyward. It wasn’t like him to contradict our emperor. He’d always been one of his staunchest supporters and had been Orson’s ally on more than one mission.

“I’ve been out there recently, searching for these rebels on your orders,” he continued. “The people are unhappy. They rush indoors the moment they see us coming and do not leave. They fear—”

“Enough!” The emperor’s palms crashed onto his desk. Heavy breaths shook his chest as he stared us down.

Brishon quieted, but Warren filled the silence. “Perhaps we hold off on our scouting of Marsali. At least until this rebel threat is dealt with and the city-states we’ve acquired fall more in line.”

A reasonable suggestion. One I might have offered if I’d been less distracted. And one I wished for. This constant war and expansion was tiresome. And to what end? The people were unhappy. I’d seen that. It was a wonder the larger countries to the west hadn’t risen against us yet to halt the rise of a potential rival power or threat to their territories. I would have if I were them. And this thing with Marsali?

In the days I’d gone to Trale, our emperor had become even more convinced that Marsali was a threat. He claimed they built up troops along their border, but who wouldn’t with one of our squadrons stationed nearby to keep an eye on them? Someone must have prodded him, encouraged that thought.

“Stop?” Emperor Ryszard huffed a laugh, crumpling a sheet of paper in a tight fist upon his desk. “No one will respect us if we quit now. Weak. A failure. I won’t have it.”

Warren glanced my way, sharing a look of unease. He didn’t like this either. It was the opposite of wise strategy. Nothing good would come from spreading ourselves thin, chasing rumors, and stirring up trouble.

Cassius Ryszard had been a figure of calm and collected wisdom cycles ago. Before he’d taken over Zhine in the wake of his brother’s untimely death. The man before us now was different. Rattled. Erratic. Unstable.

The ever-rising tingle of doubt crept up my spine. Ilya’s claim that the emperor would focus on Marsali next, the brief visit to Trale and her claim of my heritage, the wariness in my fellow captain’s words. They only fueled the questioning burn that settled against my ribs and never seemed to leave.

“Enough of this,” he continued. “If we can’t figure out which city-state they belong to, then they’ll all suffer until one admits the blame.”

A hushed silence filled the room.

“We’ll increase taxes. Double what they are now,” he continued.

I winced. Cold winds already blew off the northern mountains. This would be a harsh cycle for many, even without the tax.

“And I want children from the city-states sent to the training camps. They’ll fall in line if we start young. Five to eight cycles. Pick the strongest-looking ones. Boy or girl.”

My throat dried.Not their children…

“How many?” I barely heard the question someone posed above the rush of blood in my ears.

“Half.”

My heart stuttered. Gasps and murmurs filled the chamber. All the horrible memories from the cabin rushed up to grab at me like a raging river trying to sweep me away. Not the children. Anything but that.

“Half, my emperor?” Brishon’s voice shook.

“Half.” Our emperor didn’t back down. If anything, he stood a little straighter, whiskered jaw stiff and unmoving.

A tingle of magic slid across my scalp, raising the hair on the back of my neck. “I don’t like it,” Warren said.

I snapped my head toward my friend, though the boy showed no signs of having spoken.

“Face forward, don’t react,” Zurina said, though her mouth never moved.

A tendril of cold slid down my spine, but it wasn’t from the chilling air. The room held no windows to let in a breeze.

“I’ve linked our minds,” Warren added. “Only us three. They can’t hear us, but I’ll only hold it a moment.”

A mind link. A blessing of the God of Darkness. I swore under my breath as the world around me seemed to tilt on its side. Warren, already possibly the most gifted of us all with his ability to move the very ground, was double-blessed, able to wield gifts from Vespera and Erabus.

But I hadn’t known, and clearly Zurina had. She wasn’t surprised, wasn’t caught off guard like I was. The knowledge hit me like a blow.

“I’ll explain later,” Warren promised.

Could they hear my thoughts?

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