Page 116 of The Prince and His Stolen Throne
The jail had probably once been a simple collection of temporary holding cells before an evil mage got ahold of it. Halfway down the hall, someone had transformed the walls into dark, mossy stone that dripped for no reason. The heavy scent of wet decay clung in the air, sticking to my lungs.
A quiet, determined whisper drifted down the hall. Even from a distance, I recognized Fitz. “Perhaps we could use something for leverage to break the hinges?”
Instead of answering his question, Maximus shushed him. “Someone’s coming.”
As I approached, I saw Delilah leaning against the bars of her cell, cheeks smooshed as she tried to press her face through the small gap. When she spotted me, her eyes widened in excitement. “Trey!”
I stopped between the two cells and surveyed their occupants. Delilah was the worst off, with her fluffy hair tangled and scratches all over her arms and face. I didn’t know which of those came from the fight against the minions or her current escape attempts. The biggest shock was seeing her round, human ears for the first time in days. I’d barely looked at her inthe throne room, so I didn’t know if she’d lost her collar or if one of the guards had confiscated it.
Fitz had a red mark on his temple and his eyes were squeezed tight as he tried to focus on me. Without his glasses, his face was too clean and naked.
Several purple bruises had bloomed across Maximus’ face and up into his short, dark hairline. His hands fisted in the thin sheets on the cot, tightening until a loud rip made me flinch.
Something flew at my head, clipping my ear before it crashed against the bars of Fitz and Maximus’ cell. “Fiend!” Angelica snarled, her hand blindly seeking another item. She snatched up a pillow and chucked it with all her might, only for it to bounce harmlessly off her cell door. “Traitor! Get out of here!” A second pillow collided with the bars. “We have nothing to say to evil mages or their minions!”
The candle she chucked next sailed through the bars, and I had to duck to avoid it. “Would youstop?” Why was there so muchstuffin her cell?
Delilah grabbed Angelica’s arm before she could throw anything else at me. “Wait! I want to hear what he has to say!”
“I’m interested as well,” Fitz said, reaching up reflexively to adjust his glasses. His hand waved an inch from his face, faltering when it found empty air. He nonchalantly scratched his ear as if that was what he’d meant to do all along. “After everything we’ve been through, we deserve an explanation.”
“What explanation?” Angelica demanded. “He’ll just lie! Like he has this whole time!” She tried and failed to throw Delilah off. The other girl clung to her, digging her fingers into Angelica’s arm like a cat would dig their claws into a tree.
“I’ve known him the longest, so I get to decide!” Delilah insisted, tugging on Angelica’s arm until she sat back down on the cot. Then Delilah whirled around to face me, eyes wide and pleading. “Go ahead, Trey. Tell us what happened.” Before I could even begin, she launched into her own theories. “It was all an act, right? You realized the evil mage mistook you for his son and played along so you could stay free and rescue us? And that’s why you’re here now!”
I could have grasped the lifeline she tossed me, used it to pull myself out of the mire of betrayal and back into their good graces. But if they were going to succeed, they needed the full truth. “He didn’t make a mistake. My real name is Treasure Arnulf.” When Wilde had revealed me to them, the geas had broken, so it no longer twisted my words. Speaking myreal name aloud for the first time in twelve years left my tongue parched and clammy. It took a few seconds for me to continue my confession. “My real father is the Lord of Grimnight. He sent me to infiltrate the Bane royal family as the first step toward conquering the Desolated Lands.”
With each word, the eager smile slipped from Delilah’s face. “But you’re my cousin! I’ve known you for years! We played together! You helped me down from trees!”
“I’m sorry, Delilah,” I whispered.
“Do you think that pathetic apology is enough to satisfy anyone?” Angelica demanded. She wrapped her arm around Delilah in a comforting hug and glared at me. Realization dawned in her eyes, quickly transforming into righteous fury. “Wait, that means you aren’t even a prince! All those times you acted as ourequal, and you’re just a peasant playing dress up!”
I rolled my eyes in exasperation. “Is that really the part you want to focus on, Angelica?”
She stuck her nose in the air. “You will address me as ‘Your Highness’ or not at all.”
“How did the Lord of Grimnight even know the truth about the Desolated Lands?” Fitz asked, forcing the conversation back on track.
“My mother was born there,” I explained. “But she was kicked out when she dabbled with the wrong kind of magic.” At least, that was the story the old man had told me. Any memories I had of her were so faded I barely remembered what she looked like. Just an impression of red hair and sharp eyes. “After she left, my father spent years obsessively seeking a way to remove the Kingdom Defense Spell.”
Delilah gasped. “To find your mother?”
If it was that easy, I might have understood his motives. But he wasn’t after love, or even revenge on the woman who had abandoned us. “No. He’s an evil mage, Delilah. All he wants is power.”
“What about Wilde?” It was the first time Maximus had spoken. His sunshine smile had darkened into storm clouds, his voice a rough rumble as he continued, “Was Wilde using you for power?”
“Wilde is … he’s not an evil mage yet,” I hedged. “He’s only an apprentice.” But every time I’d asked him what he wanted, he’d said ‘everything’, so I guess that included power. How different was he really from the old man?
Maximus snorted and crossed his arms, but he didn’t probe any further.
“Explain your part in this plot,” Fitz said.
“I could see beyond the illusion of the Desolated Lands.”
Fitz’s brow furrowed. “How? Our lands are supposed to be hidden from all evil. That’s the whole point of the spell.”
“People aren’t inherently evil. They have to commit evil acts before the spell activates.” Frustration leaked into my explanation. I knew he’d react this way—painting the story in black and white while I was trying to show him the grays.
