"He's not going to last long," Sanna said as we stepped out of the tent Willum was being kept in. I'd just broken his fingers. It seemed more likely he would crack faster if I broke one or two at a time, starting with the smallest, then working my way up to larger bones.
I could still hear Willum groaning and whimpering in the tent behind me. The audible snap, the unnatural angle of his thumb, his scream and subsequent groans as he clutched his throbbing hand.
I tortured people all the time. I'd just taken lives not an hour earlier. But the knowledge that I'd just gotten in the way of real progress for Novalya, and that I'd punished a brilliant and innovative man for his good intentions, left me sick to my stomach. My breakfast churned in my stomach.
"Baruuk isn't going to be happy you offered him ice crystals," Cisco said as we walked toward my personal tent. He was still fuming after our argument, but he hadn't completely lost his temper yet.
We had to discuss what happened. But I was terrified of the most uncomfortable of truths to come out — I was scared.
Add that to my mortification at working against everything I stood for, and shattering Willum so completely and my head was spinning. Saliva flooded my mouth, and I knew my breakfast was about to vacate my body. I held up my finger before tearing off through the camp.
Sanna and Cisco called my name but by the time they reached me my face was buried in a bush as I vomited everything I had in my stomach. I heaved until nothing more came out, and then heaved some more.
As I slumped down next to the bush and wiped my mouth with my sleeve my head spun. Conflict broke out inside my head between the different versions of myself that inhabited my brain.
The Grand General knew she had made the right call. The girl Baruuk raised knew she had made her master proud. Cisco's friend knew she acted rashly to protect him and his people, and that it might not have worked anyways. Hetty's sister knew her sister would live another day in relative peace. The secret dreamer Cisco had awakened knew she'd just betrayed her people in the worst way. And the little girl in me couldn't stand to see her crush's fingers crumble at her hands.
When I'm queen, all I'll have to worry about is the well being of my people.
But it wasn't as black and white as that, because I would always be a sister, too. A friend. An ally. An enemy. And at the end of the day, just a girl. How could I make these decisions everyday and always act according to my conscience? There were so many dynamics at play. And I only knew one way to manage all of them — brute force.
Could I have struck that deal with Willum if I were queen and his sister wasn't a blight on this land? Yes. But it would put my people in a vulnerable position. And if Vydon did attack, my people's blood would be on my hands. Whether I chose to fight or take a more peaceful path, people could die. Cisco was right. Pacifism had its disadvantages.
Was there a middle ground? Maybe. But the middle ground would still involve me torturing, killing, and manipulating to a certain extent. And I didn't think when it came down to it, I could make that call. Everything I did as Grand General was how Baruuk wanted me to behave, not my own choice. What would I do when I had to choose, and the answer was broken bones or a sword to the chest? Would I have to make choices that would send me vomiting into the bushes for the rest of my life?
Sanna still held my hair back and handed me a canteen of water. I swished the water in my mouth and spat that into the bushes too. "Was it something you ate?" she asked.
"She's eaten the same food I have for days," Cisco said.
I shoved off the ground. I couldn't let those thoughts keep me from saving Hetty. She didn't deserve to live a life without sunlight, nevermind a lifetime of beatings. Letting her down wasn't an option.
"I need to write to Baruuk," I said, shoving past them toward my tent. Neither of them followed me. They probably didn't want to be around if I vomited again.
Once I reached my tent, I passed through the front section that served as my office, and into my sleeping quarters. Only a thin partition separated me from the rest of the camp, but it was enough for me to pretend to be alone. I unstrapped all of my armor until all I wore was the thin long sleeve shirt and pants we wore beneath our armor.
Sinking into my cot wasn't nearly as satisfying as sinking into my bed back at the palace, but there was comfort in the thin pad and the wool blanket I pulled over my shoulders.
Only ten minutes. Ten minutes would give me enough time to recover from my body forcibly ejecting food from itself, and allow me to shake off what happened with Willum.
However when I opened my eyes I realized I'd fallen asleep, and had no concept of how long I'd slept. My stomach felt empty but calm, but I woke up feeling that someone should have needed me by then. I rarely had down time when I was stationed outside the palace.
I stumbled out of my tent to see that everyone was calmly going about their tasks. Everything was, for the moment, fine. By the position of the sun in the sky I guessed it was late morning, meaning it was time to pay Willum a visit.
No one stood outside Willum's tent. My soldiers knew better than to leave a hostage unattended. I rushed into the tent, afraid Willum had escaped. When I saw him crumpled on the ground in the corner, I sighed.
The absence of guards would have to be punished, but I shoved that out of my mind. I was still trying to pull myself together from Willum's negotiations earlier, and I wasn't fully ready to continue negotiations. It wouldn't do me any good to think about what came next.
"Prince Willum?" Even after I said his name he didn't rouse. When I shook him, his eyelids fluttered, but nothing more. "Willum!"
His eyelids fluttered more but otherwise he might as well have been dead. I took his hand in my hand to see that his fingers were not only swollen but black and blue. I lightly ran my fingers over them and Willum groaned. I had caused a clean break, but now his bones felt like they had been ground into the dirt. I knew for a fact I hadn't caused that much damage.
My glowing eyes lit up the tent as I healed his fingers. He slowly roused. When he realized who was holding his hand he reeled back. "You're touching me," he said.
"Unsettling, I know." When I didn't pull away I explained, "I'm healing you." He calmed as his pain ebbed away.
"Your eyes glow when you hurt me and when you heal me." I nodded worldlessly. My eyes ceased glowing once he was fully healed. My body felt heavier, my toned muscles struggling to keep me upright. Healing always cost me a part of myself. He snatched his hand away from me and pushed himself into a seated position.
"What happened?" I demanded. Someone had definitely been there to continue his torture, but whoever they were they had done it without permission and would suffer the consequences.
"You've come back for another round?" he asked, deflecting the question.
"Depends on how agreeable you are."
Willum scowled. "All I want is collaboration."
"What does your sister want?" I pressed. There was no way Sharlot had pure intentions. She was like Baruuk in that she had no interest in improving the lives of her people outside of what would bring more prosperity to herself.
Vydonians ate well not because of her concern for their health but because Sharlot wanted them to produce the richest foods for her to eat, and because she wanted the strongest soldiers.
They didn't have the best trade network in all of Novalya because she wanted to elevate her people's quality of life. She did it so people had more money to pay their taxes, and they paid in the finest clothing, the biggest jewels, and crafted the most beautifully designed palace. And she could never be satisfied — she wanted more, and that included land.
Large swaths of our border were a wasteland. Frequent battles had scourged the area until it was uninhabitable. No one wanted to live there due to the danger.
She was the greediest person I knew. She used people. She used her brother until the light left his eyes.
"She wants to restore our land to its former glory." His mind went to a distant place as he said it. It was clear to see that his dream was already reality in his mind.
"To its former glory? Vydon has only seen prosperity since Sharlot's been queen."
I'd studied centuries of history in my studies under Baruuk — as far back as our history books went. Any farther in the past than two to three hundred years was mostly a mystery to us. Around that time the kings of the land went on a crusade to eliminate any written history from previous times. Stories of the times before were passed down as folktales from generation to generation, and they often contradicted each other.
With that same reverent look in his eyes, he whispered, "Baruuk would have you believe the world is what it has always been. That's the lie he's perpetuated throughout Calidonica."
"What do you mean?" If he had gone on a crusade against knowledge and wisdom, it had been before I was even born.
"Baruuk doesn't want his citizens to think of the Before Times. It was his greatest strategy for maintaining his control over his people when he first took the throne forty years ago."
Baruuk told me little of his time when he first ascended the throne, only that the sovereign who ruled before him was his mother. He never made any mention of siblings, and it had always been suspicious that he claimed he'd never married or bore children. But certain questions he forbade me from asking, so I'd locked them away in my mind ever since I was small.
"Do you mean before the crusades?"
Willum nodded with fervor. "There was an age where gods ruled over Yorthin, not humans. That age was characterized by prosperity beyond your wildest dreams."
"Gods? Yorthin? There is no such thing as gods. And I've never heard of Yorthin."
There were believers in the three other kingdoms who worshipped gods I was unfamiliar with, but their worship was banned in Calidonica decades ago.
Baruuk viewed the gods they worshipped as mental crutches that made his people weaker. There were no gods to save them from their dismal lives. Or maybe it was because he didn't want them to dream of a better life, to maintain his control and keep them compliant.
He'd certainly drained the hopes and dreams from my mind. Was that the censorship he was referring to?
"Another lie Baruuk would have you believe." Willum leaned closer, as if he were about to tell me a secret. "Baruuk would have you believe there is not a living god on Novalya."
I knew exactly what he was talking about. Baruuk tried to hide it from me, but every once in a while he would discover a temple in Calidonica devoted to me. I never considered why they would crop up other than a desperate hope that I would spare their lives.
In their eyes I was the Goddess of Death. The Starborn. The one to fulfill a prophecy of which I purposely remained ignorant. The concept unnerved me so much that I never questioned it when he turned those temples into public latrines.
I couldn't meet Willum's eye. "The people that believe that are crazy."
Willum grasped my hand suddenly, his jade eyes wide, almost crazed. "They're desperate, Lura. Desperate for change."
And I wanted change. Maybe Cisco was right. Maybe Novalya was ready for a change. Maybe the next generation would break the cycle of abuse. If they did, I wanted to be a part of it.
"As long as Sharlot is on the throne, I can't allow for an alliance with Vydon."
Willum looked away. "I understand. Sharlot is the most selfish person I know. She uses people until she's siphoned all of the life out of them. Then when they've served their purpose, she tosses them aside. You're right to be concerned."
When he looked back at me, his gaze was the gaze of a man who had nothing left to lose.
"Things are changing in Vydon. Sharlot is losing favor. The poor are crying out, and the wealthy are realizing their luxury comes at a cost."
"H-how?" If the tides were turning in Vydon, maybe they could turn in Calidonica, too.
"That's for me to know, and you to find out once we're allied."
I shook my head, clasping my clammy hands. "Baruuk would never agree."
Willum narrowed his eyes. "I think you could convince him."
"All this time I thought you were the most useless of your siblings," I confessed
.
"My sister would have you believe because of my pacifism I'm only useful as a messenger." His eyes clouded over. "Her doubts surrounding me will be her undoing." When all I did was stare, he spat, "I wouldn't expect you to understand."
Why would he? He saw what almost everyone else saw me as — a mindless weapon which Baruuk could wield as effortlessly as any warrior could wield a sword. I was only good for one thing in Baruuk's mind — destruction. A tool that would bend to his will under the slightest pressure.
Had I really let myself become this person? Within myself I felt soft, and warm, and rich, yet also somehow hollow.
"Not everyone is as they seem," I said.
I offered Willum my hands, and after much hesitation he gave me his. I helped pull him off the ground, though my own strength was diminished due to healing him. "Give me one reason to let you live."
Willum frowned but neither cowered nor stood defiant against me. "Define a 'good reason.'"
"Something I can convince Baruuk justifies letting you go."
He stood casually with his hands in his pockets. He'd become braver over the years. Or maybe he was always brave, but I hadn't noticed it before. He had fearlessly walked into my camp on numerous occasions knowing what would befall him.
"If I give you something too good, my sister will kill me."
"I'll send you home in a horseless carriage and send a single cart load of ice crystals in the coming weeks. The same basic design is used for our farming equipment. It won't take you long to engineer some basic tools." It was the least I could do.
"Agree not to act on said information for a year. Enough to erase my sister's suspicion."
"Agree that Sharlot will leave our land alone for the same length of time." I wasn't letting Willum leave without ensuring the safety of those in the fortress. "She leaves Quantum Fortress and the soldiers housed there. Don't underestimate the worth of the horseless carriage."
"You know in the Before Times they were called cars?" A smile played on his lips.
"Cars?" I rolled the word around in my mind. "It's less of a mouthful than 'horseless carriage' is." I offered him my right hand. "It's a deal."
Willum's grip was firm as we shook on it. His gaze darkened. "We've finally discovered ice crystals on our land." I reeled backward. This was not good. Sharlot fast-tracked everything at great cost to her people. She would develop advanced weapons in no time. Willum's gaze fell. "Prince Cisco also has this information."
"What?" My voice pitched upward in a way that made me sound nineteen years old. Was Cisco the one who had returned to gather this information? And if he had this information, did that mean that he —
"He came back and negotiated an alliance between Espazota and Vydon after you left."