Frozen Tides (Falling Kingdoms 4)

“Not for a moment. I know it’s real. I can feel it.” The king’s dark eyes glittered. “Does Agallon know where to find the other three?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” With this outright lie spoken, Felix held his breath.

But the king only nodded, his attention still fixed on the orb. “Guards, bring the other prisoner in,” he called, then turned back to take his seat upon the throne.

Felix waited silently as the guards brought in another man, dirty and in chains. Despite the prisoner’s thick, matted beard and the wild look in his eyes, Felix recognized him as a fellow Cobra.

“Felix . . . is that you?” the man snarled. “You are alive. You little bastard!”

“Wonderful to see you too, Aeson. How have you been?”

Felix was never very close with Aeson, but he knew him enough to know that he was one of the most brutal and effective assassins he’d ever met.

“I see you remember each other,” the king said. “Well, you might be happy to learn that the two of you have something in common: You both abandoned your duties to the Clan for a time. Aeson has been in the dungeons awaiting his execution for . . . how long is it now, Aeson?”

“Three very long weeks,” he sputtered.

Felix cast a wary glance at the king. “So, what? I’m going to be his new cell mate?”

“No, I have something much more interesting in mind.” He nodded at the guards. “Unchain Aeson and give him a weapon.”

Bewildered, Felix eyed the guards as they swiftly carried out the king’s orders. Now free from his chains, Aeson rubbed his raw wrists and snatched the broadsword from the guard offering it to him.

“I’ve listened to your explanation,” King Gaius said. “I’ve received your gift of this orb. Now, Aeson is going to try to kill you. If he succeeds, he will be freed. If he fails, I may choose to pardon you for your momentary alliance with the Paelsian.”

Felix was certain the roof had caved in on top of his head. He scrambled for words in the stunned silence of the throne room. “But, but . . . wait. Where’s my weapon?”

The king responded with a patient smile. “You don’t get one. Consider this a test of your abilities and your desire to survive.”

Aeson didn’t waste a moment. He lunged, closing the distance between them, and brought the blade down hard. Felix felt the cool breeze brought by the sword as he barely stepped out of its way in time.

No weapon to defend himself, only his bare hands.

This was a test he was meant to fail.

“Last I heard, everyone thought you were dead,” Aeson snarled. “But I knew you’d gone off of your own free will. I could see it in your eyes, it was always there—that wanderlust.”

“You’ve really got me figured out. So what’s your excuse?” Felix walked a careful circle around Aeson, watching his every move, then ducked under the next side-swiping swing.

“I realized that it’s much more profitable to be a mercenary than to kill for the kingdom.” Aeson grinned, revealing a row of broken, yellowed teeth. “Do you happen to know how much certain individuals are willing to pay to have the King of Blood killed?”

“Plenty, I’m sure,” Felix replied tightly.

“A small fortune, actually. I also learned a lot in the dungeons . . . tasty rumors of all kinds.” His glittering eyes narrowed, and he flicked the barest of glimpses toward the king. “Is it true your son recently committed treason, your highness? That he freed a prisoner you’d condemned to death and then they both fled to Limeros? Perhaps you’re losing your grip on your kingdom after all this time. I assure you, it’s a long fall for someone like you.”

“The rumors of the condemned,” the king’s words weren’t much more than an icy hiss. “Sad, really.”

Aeson gave Felix one last crazed smirk, then turned and stormed toward the dais, slicing his sword through two guards, one after the other, who stood in his way.

Felix was after him in an instant. He snatched the sword off one of the fallen guards and took leaping steps toward his enemy, who was fast approaching the king. Then, in a single, instinct-driven motion, he thrust his blade clean through Aeson’s chest. The man’s borrowed sword clattered to the floor.

Felix pulled his blade free. Aeson’s lifeless body fell backward down the steps, landing in a broken heap on the floor.

The remaining guards swarmed Felix. One of them pressed a blade to his throat, hard enough to break the skin and send a trickle of warm blood down his neck, while another disarmed him and a third dragged him back down the steps.

The king was still up on the dais but was now on his feet, clutching the moonstone.

“Release him,” he commanded.