The Runaway King (The Ascendance Series, Book 2)

The ride to Libeth was a study in the art of torture. Roden drove a cart led by his horse and mine, and I yelled more than once that I was certain he was deliberately driving into every bump or pothole. He said he was going as fast as he could, which wasn’t exactly a denial. I cursed back at him until Fink told me he was learning words even the pirates didn’t use. I told him to be quiet and let me try to rest. Before long I began shivering. Fink pushed blankets close around my body, but it didn’t do much good because the cold wasn’t outside. It was in me, like ice water had filled my veins. The nausea returned, and with it a sort of dizziness that only got worse when I closed my eyes. But sleep was impossible and with every mile I felt considerably worse. Eventually, Fink faded into the background, melting away like characters often did in my dreams.

It was late at night when the cart finally stopped. I was aware of Roden talking to me and pressing my neck for a pulse, but when I tried to explain what I wanted he just stared at me as if he didn’t understand.

A moment later, Harlowe’s face was leaning over mine. He barked orders at people I couldn’t see and then picked me up to carry me into his home. I tried to talk to him, but he told me to hush and that everything was going to be all right. I understood that already. Wasn’t that why I’d come to the pirates in the first place, to fix things? I was just so tired and nothing anyone did or said made any sense.

Harlowe laid me on a bed in a room I didn’t recognize and covered me in blankets. I kept pushing them off and fighting whoever was nearby until I got the item from my shirt that I wanted.

“Harlowe,” I mumbled. He appeared and said something about having already sent for a surgeon. That didn’t matter. I could hardly feel my leg anymore. All I wanted was to give him the pocket watch, which I pressed into his hand. “Forgive me,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure whether he understood me or not, but he brushed my sweat-dampened hair off my face and told me to go to sleep. This time, I obeyed.

I awoke next to a sensation in my leg so fierce that I shot up in bed and screamed. My hand went for my knife, but as had been common lately, it wasn’t there. So I kicked forward with my good leg and connected with someone who grunted and fell backward.

Hands pressed me down, and somewhere in the room Roden’s voice said it was only the surgeon setting my leg and to stay calm. I wondered if that was who I’d just kicked. If so, he deserved it for hurting me so badly.

The worst of the pain passed and eventually the hands released me. Someone tried to give me something to drink, but it was hot in my mouth and I spat it out.

I heard someone say Imogen’s name. And I lost consciousness again.

The next time I awoke, things were beginning to make more sense. The curtains in the room were shut, but narrow slits of light peeked through them. I groaned as I tried to roll over, and the next face I saw was Imogen’s. She radiated with a glimmer of light on her skin, which made me wonder whether the devils were playing a joke on me, and if she wasn’t really here.

“Drink this.” She helped me sit up enough to swallow a honey tea that both warmed and soothed my dry throat. Until then, I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was.

“Where did you come from?” I asked.

“Harlowe’s messenger caught up to Mott and me as we were leaving Dichell. We were on our way to the pirates, to come after you.”

“I told you not to go back to the pirates.”

“Yes, but you didn’t tell Mott, and unfortunately he was my ride.”

I smiled until it took too much effort. “You’re starting to sound like me. That’s not good.”

Rather than answer, Imogen offered me more to drink. I took it, then asked, “Are we at Harlowe’s?”

“Yes. He asked to see you as soon as you were coherent again.”

“I remember being confused,” I said. “But only because nobody could understand me.”

“Your body was in shock. The surgeon was surprised you survived the trip here.”

“Me too. Roden’s a terrible driver.”

“He had to travel fast. He knew the danger you were in.”

A door behind me opened and Imogen looked up and then motioned at whoever was there to enter. When Harlowe came around my bed, he bowed low. Imogen invited him to take her chair and said she’d return in a few minutes.

Harlowe sat, smiled grimly at me, then leaned forward with his arms resting on his legs.

“The thieves were going to rob someone.” It was important to make him understand that before anything else was spoken. “If I didn’t bring them here —”

“Then they’d have gone somewhere else and caused actual damage. I know. Mott explained after you left.”

“Mott didn’t know. I never told him.”

“But he knows you, and so he explained.”

“I’m sorry, Harlowe. I frightened Nila.”

“Nila was afraid for you, not of you.”

“How is she?”

“She’s adjusting, but she misses her parents.”

“I’m sorry for that too. I didn’t know the raids were happening.”

After clearing his throat, Harlowe said, “I tried to talk to the king — your father — not long ago. He referred me to his prime regent, Master Veldergrath.”

My stomach tightened. My contempt for Veldergrath was lower than my opinion of rats, if the one could be distinguished from the other. “He was dismissed as a regent last month,” I said. “But someone should’ve listened when you came.” It was hard to ask the next question, but I needed to know the answer. “Did my father know what was happening here?”

He frowned at me. “I don’t know. We tried to get messages to him, but I don’t know if he ever received them.”

It probably didn’t matter. I doubted my father would’ve had the will to stop Avenia if he did know. I laid my head back on the pillow and rested. After a moment I said, “That day I brought Nila here, you asked me to stay the night. Was that a sincere offer?”

“Of course it was.”

“Because of what I’d done for her?”

“Because you looked like someone who needed a place to stay.”

“And why did you give me your son’s watch?”

He hesitated, then said, “I didn’t know why you’d joined up with the thieves, but I knew you weren’t like them. I hoped the watch would help you remember your way back, maybe keep you from getting lost in their world.”

My eyes had become heavy again. Harlowe made a move to leave, but I asked him to wait. When he sat again I said, “You prefer to avoid the politics in Drylliad. Honestly, so do I. But Carthya needs you and I need a prime regent.”

Harlowe sat up straight. “Prime? That’s a title given for seniority amongst your regents. There are many others —”

“They’re all idiots. We both know that. Please, Harlowe, will you come to Drylliad?”

There was no hesitation. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“I’m Jaron.” My words were beginning to slur and I knew more sleep wasn’t far off. “That’s my name.”