Sky Stitcher, page 23
He collapsed, his energy spent by the power I’d drawn from him.
Monster. Monster. Monster. The word repeated through the crowd until it crawled its way into my heart and soul. It manifested until the word etched itself into my being—becoming an irrefutable truth and an undeniable part of me. Their stares fell upon me like daggers, wounding me with the way they reviled my presence. Even the Daughters looked at me as though they didn’t know me. They gazed, expressions gaping—trepidation written across wide eyes.
I’d saved them from the Khazdruki…I’d harnessed Prisha’s monsters for good instead of evil, but all they saw was another monster.
Perhaps it was the truth.
Numbness washed over me. I turned slowly, facing each of the condemning glares looking back at me.
Monster.
Guards gathered around me and shackled irons to my wrists. I did not fight. I couldn’t.
I couldn’t do anything but stare, withering away inside until there was nothing left of me but an empty husk.
And the name I deserved.
Chapter 23
Morals
They locked me in a pit. High, natural walls stretched above me, swallowing me into the forgotten chamber of its belly, casting me into shadow. The prison had been carved from the earth, the walls rough but not textured enough to climb to my freedom. Not that I’d tried…there was no point. Guards posted at the top made it impossible to scale the pit without notice, and besides, I didn’t deserve freedom. There was no need to try.
Instead, I sat, crumbled, cross-legged and filthy at the bottom, playing the image of Rue’s expression in my mind until my insides melted into an acidic state that burned and burned, consuming me from the inside out. Did he think I was a monster? Was I a monster? I hadn’t meant to…channel his power or command him or…whatever I had done. But I had. And he probably never wanted to see me again. To him, I must be no better than Prisha.
I couldn’t bring myself to test the connection between us to see if he would respond. What if they had captured him, too? I’d done nothing to help him escape or protect him. Would they kill him if they discovered who he was? What if…what if he didn’t answer my call simply because he didn’t want to?
I couldn’t bear the thought that I’d reach for Rue and feel nothing in answer, so I didn’t reach for him at all. I wasn’t brave enough to face that level of grief. Not yet.
Sunlight streaked across my face as I slumped against the side of the pit, but voices stirred me from my semi-consciousness. A rope ladder unfurled, tumbling to the bottom. I stared vacantly at it, too exhausted to move, too apathetic to try.
A pair of brown boots disturbed the dust from the ground, and I looked up to find Rali considering me with a ponderous frown.
“Well, that ceremony didn’t go as planned,” Rali began, shoving a hand into his pocket and shrugging. No. Not Rali—Prince Tiralish. His tone felt so light—so at odds with the venomous hatred I felt for him. He remained oblivious to my scowl while he continued, “No matter, though.” He shook his head. “Union or not, Halah gave me exactly what I needed. We’ll work well together.”
Work well together? Is he insane? Did the Khazdruki bludgeon him over the head during their invasion? I opened my mouth to toss the first insult I could muster at him, but questions clamored loudly in my mind, each one rioting its way to my tongue, demanding to be voiced. Why choose Prisha? Why me? Why force me into a union that was not only unwanted, but against the law? Why trap my Sisters? Why, why—
“Why, Rali?” I finally spat at him. “Or should I call you Tiralish?” The question was open-ended, but I was too exhausted to put my thoughts into any coherent order. Why was what I most needed to know, however indirect or undefined the query seemed.
He studied me at length, the depths of his eyes calculating some hidden formula I couldn’t decipher. “First, I think you owe me an explanation of whatever just happened,” he replied, his voice calm but lacking any warmth.
“I can’t,” I growled, angrier than I’d intended to be, but once the fury was allowed to unfurl, it built and swelled uncontrollably inside of me. Whatever had happened at the ceremony hadn’t been planned—I doubted I could repeat it even if I’d tried. I knew I didn’t want to repeat it. I didn’t know who or what I was anymore, and I’d never feared my power more. But he didn’t deserve to know any of that. I owed him nothing.
I narrowed my eyes at the man who’d lied and manipulated, who’d sided with Prisha and trapped my Sisters. Why? The question repeated itself in my mind, demanding to be answered. “Go away, Prisha’s pet,” I spat out instead, turning my shoulder to him. I stiffened my spine, setting myself to admire the very uninteresting crevices and cracks that puckered the walls.
He stepped in front of me, refusing to be dismissed so easily. His nostrils flared, but he made an obvious effort to control his temper. “Do not call me that. I am Prince Tiralish of Rashii, and you understand nothing. You have no idea.” He turned away from me, pacing the length of the pit with wide, agitated strides. “I have responsibilities to my people. I did what I had to do to protect them. They were risky decisions, sure…but decisions that had to be made.” He paused, turning back toward me with an almost apologetic tint to his expression. As though he wanted me to understand and to excuse his behavior. To stop imagining I could flay the skin from his body with a mere gaze. He sighed wearily. “Nobody else would protect us. Not our king. Not the Daughters. Not even your precious Halah. Only Prisha answered my prayers. She promised what everyone else could not. What else was I supposed to do?”
“You stupid idiot,” I seethed, hardly stopping to consider the impact of throwing such an insult at the prince. It was less than half the insult he deserved. “You thought Prisha would help you? Help with what? She’s a monster. She’ll destroy everyone…including you. Whatever she promised you was a lie.”
“Yes, well. It was a risk I had to take. I ran out of options, Zara. My father was useless…whenever the council met to discuss foreign relations or the growing tension with Khazdra, he seemed to develop an allergy that made his eyes glaze over until he was so ill, he needed to escape back to his little plants and his bees.” His face twisted with disgust, as though the very mention of King Onros’s bees had stung his tongue. “He does not have what it takes to be a ruler. He was handed the throne by my grandfather…he did not earn it. I’ve had to work twice as hard to make up for his inadequacies, and I’ve made mistakes in my desperation. But the good news is that I don’t need Prisha anymore. You changed that.” He cupped my chin in his hand and forced my gaze to meet his eyes. “I have something better now. You.”
“The Sundom Desert will freeze over before I’d ever consider helping you.” The temperature of my voice chilled the air so noticeably, there was a chance that very impossibility would happen sooner than anticipated. But why he thought I’d consider any arrangement between us was beyond me…whatever his excuses, whatever his justifications, they were weak. Just like him.
“Don’t be foolish, Zara,” he urged. “Those Khazdruki at the union? They won’t be the last.” Tiralish set himself back to pacing, running his hands rather aggressively through the tangles of his unruly hair. “My idiot father didn’t listen to me about the unrest in the north. He didn’t heed the threats or the rumblings. I told him—” He stomped around the room, his feet striking ruthlessly against the innocent ground. The ground had done him no harm…yet all his clamoring suggested a personal vendetta against it. My eyebrows lifted, considering the thought. Wouldn’t be the worst thing if the floor swallowed him whole.
“I told him we should send a firm message to put Khazdra back in their place, but he is too old or too tired or too incompetent to protect the Sun Throne and his people from the usurpers. He didn’t take it seriously. All he cares about is bees and nectar and honey. But me? I’ve done everything I can to ensure Rashii’s safety. And sometimes, being in power means taking risks to protect those who rely on you. Surely you understand that?”
“I assure you, I understand nothing of your twisted excuse for morals.”
Tiralish groaned and tossed his head back. “Everything I’ve done has been to protect my people. Everything.”
“Well, you’ve done a shit job of it.”
“So have you.”
I blinked blankly back at him for a few breaths. I hated every part of what he said, but it rang with truth. Sighing wearily, I closed my eyes and settled my anger. I needed answers, not more fights. “So you sided with Prisha because you no longer trusted the Daughters to help you? You thought Prisha would give you the protection you needed.”
“The Daughters have been growing weaker and weaker for years. Your Eldress is dying…when’s the last time she stitched the skies? Prisha promised me her army, Zara. She promised me strength. And to have Prisha’s power behind us instead of against us? What ruler in their right mind would deny her?”
“One with proper morals.”
“Oh shut up with your holy devoutness and morals.”
I snorted. “Holy devoutness? Do you know anything about me at all?” If you did, you’d know I’m just a disaster. A monster. Hadn’t he seen what I did at the union? The ache in my heart festered.
The prince regarded me curiously. “You know…I have realized something interesting about you. I think there’s more to you than you let on.”
I laughed dismissively, but my pulse quickened, thumping through my veins. “How so?” I asked. Let him elaborate on his suspicions…I’d tell him nothing.
“Well, the Stitcher’s magic prohibits Prisha from entering this realm. The very existence of a Stitcher’s magic repels her, operating like twin poles of a magnet. Naturally, Prisha wanted me to kill the Eldress to resolve that little issue, but I kept her alive as…insurance.”
“Where is she?” I demanded immediately, interrupting his train of thought.
He waved his hand to stop me. “Alive. Sickly, but surviving. But that is not the point. She’s been locked away…no access to earth or sky. No ability to use her powers. And I thought that might be enough to free Prisha from her prison if the Eldress’s magic was subdued, but there’s still something holding her back. The rifts are plenty wide. The time is favorable. But still, she’s trapped. I can think of only one explanation.” He paused and inspected me. “Do you know anything about that? There isn’t a new Stitcher, is there?”
I stiffened, but put every ounce of my focus into appearing natural. “Halah hasn’t spoken to us in years.”
“Hmmm,” he responded, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Because that display at the union…it’s become very clear you are not just a Daughter. And I think you know more than you’re telling me.”
“Perhaps you should let me talk to the Eldress, and then maybe I’d know whatever you—”
“Or,” he interjected, “maybe…you will do exactly what I say because if you don’t, you’re putting the whole goddessdamned Realm of Taara at risk. If you want to live…if you want to keep your precious Stitcher alive, we need to work together. So tell me, what do you know?”
“You’re delusional.”
“Goddessdamnit, Zara. You need to help. Stitch the skies. Or open them.” He waved his hand with an agitated attempt of ambivalence. “I don’t give a damn. But whatever power you have, it is your responsibility to protect the people with it. We won’t win against the Khazdruki without your help, and you know we won’t win against Prisha. Those monsters…if you can command the crawlers and the bulgroiches…the Khazdruki will run back to their sand skiffs and disappear beyond the Saanan Mountains. You can stop them.”
I flinched. No part of me wanted to help the prince, but the weight of responsibility sank like iron in my gut. Of course I wanted to stop Prisha…to protect the realm from all threats, but how could I do that when I had become a threat? When I couldn’t figure out how to access the gentle weaving the Daughters had used for centuries? When I’d buried the stolen heart of stars deep inside me where it could never cause any harm because I couldn’t learn to control it? When I’d panicked at the union ceremony and somehow channeled Rue’s powers as my own, putting everyone, including him, in danger? Any form of magic I touched I corrupted with my unpredictable brand of chaos…my lack of control. I shouldn’t be allowed to use any of it. “I…can’t. Not without the Eldress. Let me go, please. Let me talk to her.”
“I can’t let you go. You’re too dangerous.” His eyebrows lifted, and an airy chuckle escaped him to show his shock at the gall of my request. “Didn’t you see how the people feared you? I can’t let a monster walk among them. It would be unconscionable.”
“And yet I don’t see you locking yourself up,” I quipped, but the sneer on my face deepened as he glared back at me. The sting of his insult burned, clawing to reopen the raw wounds inside of me.
“I only did what I had to, Zara.”
“But why? You call me the monster, but at least I’m not a liar and a traitor like you. I didn’t side with Prisha. Why, Tiralish? Why me? I don’t understand.”
The prince looked at me as though I were an idiot. “I thought you’d be intelligent enough to piece this together. Prisha needed me to find and kill the Stitcher…but how could I find the Stitcher when you hid in your little guryas beneath your Eldress’s illusions? I knew if I could marry one of you, if I could gain your trust, I’d find my way to the guryas and the rest of the clan.”
“But you found them anyway. Without my help.”
“I did. When I arrived to ‘rescue’ your Sisters from the staged attack, they came with me willingly, but imagine my disappointment when I discovered the Eldress was nowhere to be found. I guess her absence was the reason the camouflaging magic failed, allowing us to find the clan in the first place. Well, that and Lurah’s assistance. Her desperation to warn you helped us find the clan faster.”
“But then I handed the Eldress right to you. Because I trusted you.” I said the words as an accusation, but he didn’t even flinch. I shook my head, disgust bubbling like a vat of rancid tallow in my belly. “But that still doesn’t explain. Why me? Why my Sisters? Just…let them go. They have nothing to do with this.”
“Are you not listening to me? They have everything to do with this. Prisha needed the Stitcher and your precious Eldress…it became clear very quickly that Ahma was not the one I needed. That there was another blessed with Halah’s power. And I refused to let any of the Daughters out of my sight until I’d found what I needed. Prisha was very…persistent with her demands.” His body shrank visibly to reflect his fear, and my mind raced, recalling the shadows in my dream in the desert…the shadow that shrank with fear in Prisha’s presence as they discussed the Stitcher’s demise. The one I’d wrongly presumed to be Rue.
“How have you been speaking to Prisha?” I asked, carefully placing my words.
“In my dreams…through my mind. I couldn’t run from her even if I wanted to…she always finds me. But with you here…”
“No. How? Only the descendants of gods can commune with them.”
He smirked, holding his cards close to his chest, waiting to see if I would uncover his secrets. My lips parted with a faint gasp, noticing the complexion of his skin, still tan but lighter than most Rashiiki, and the dusting of freckles across his nose. The jade green eyes…green just like my Sisters’. Like mine.
“You…you’re a descendant of Halah?” I breathed. “How?” It wasn’t possible. He’d been born to the royal family, the first-born son and heir of King Onros and the late Queen Vilaa, who died during his birth. Royals and descendants were not permitted to join. Queen Vilaa could not have shared Halah’s blood.
“My father has his vices, and I suspect he has many heirs hidden within the city. But when Queen Vilaa went into labor, her son was breached, and neither survived the birth. Rather than announcing the tragedy and their deaths, he sent for his mistress, taking in the bastard she’d birthed just a few weeks earlier, claiming it to be Vilaa’s surviving son. Claiming the bastard as his rightful heir.”
“And that bastard—”
“Is me,” he confirmed with a nod. “Prince Tiralish. Son of Drua, Daughter of Halah, and King Onros, ruler of Rashii.” He bowed regally, then winked at me. “Though let’s keep that last bit between us…wouldn’t want his other bastards to think they have a right to the throne.”
“But…how?”
“Being a prince comes with a certain set of privileges. Access to information. Training. Support of following one’s interests and hobbies. When I was little, my father used to let Drua visit me to teach me the ways of Daughters. I loved her…my nursemaid, who cared for me and made me feel special. Who protected me. At least until the day she revealed who she truly was.” His face soured. “After that, she never visited me again. Abandoned me to live with my wretched father. Alone. Like I no longer mattered.”
Something glimmered in the rim of his eyes, and he turned to inspect the wall of the pit.
“In my loneliness, I prayed for Halah’s favor. For her to help me and protect me. To make me into a better ruler than my father so I could do right by the people. So I could protect them from the threats he did not care to fight against. But it was not Halah who answered. Only Prisha heard my prayers.”
So it had been him. Prisha had commanded him to kill the Eldress, not Rue. She’d commanded him to gather the Daughters…to subdue us so she could return and kill us all. And he’d turned against his own blood…his own lineage…for what?
“But with you here,” he repeated in an attempt to regain my attention. I paused midstep, realizing I’d taken to mirroring his habit of pacing. “I don’t have to be afraid of her anymore. You can save us, Zara. I see that now. Prisha was…a mistake. But you…my prayers were answered when Halah sent you to me.” He grabbed my wrist in his hand, and with his other, he let his knuckles brush against my skin, trailing the length of my cheekbone. His eyes melted, turning the freckles inside his jade eyes to the warm color of honey. “I know you’re angry with me…I know you probably wish you could set your army of bulgroiches upon me.”
