“The Striga Elders?” Connor looks at me like I just grew two heads. “Criminals go there. I’ve done nothing wrong. I won’t set foot in that chamber.”
“Oh yes, you will.” Lincoln opens door and barks orders down the hall. “Guards, take the King Emeritus into custody.”
Octavia gasps. “No! Not your father. What will the people say? He’s already stepped down from the throne.”
A muscle feathers along Lincoln’s jaw. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, Mother.”
Not for the last time, I look at Octavia and wonder. Who is this person and what have you done with Octavia?
“This is outrageous,” bellows Connor. “I stepped down from my throne for you. I’ve spent years doing everything I can to keep your son safe.”
“Except tell me what’s going on.” Lincoln opens the door wider; a half-dozen guards march in.
Connor shrinks back. “I won’t go. Hasn’t my name been ruined enough for you? Everyone sees me as a weakling for stepping down so young. Now, I’ll seem like a criminal, too.”
“Use the enchanted manacles,” says Lincoln in a low voice. “He won’t fight you then.”
The Captain of the guard pulls a set of iron links from his waistband.
Connor raises his hand. “Stop right there, boy. I ruled these lands when you were only a babe suckling your mother’s teat. You do this to me? There will be consequences.”
The Captain hesitates. Quick as lightning, Lincoln steps in and grabs the man’s forearm. “Make no mistake, I’m the real power in Antrum. Have been ever since I was nine years old. Who are you really afraid of, solider?”
The Captain nods and snaps the manacles onto Connor’s wrists. The barest purple hue flashes through the dark metal.
Connor raises his chained hands. “Since you wish to humiliate me, I won’t go quietly.” He raises his voice to a howl. “I want everyone to know this wasn’t my choice!”
“Take him by the back stairs,” commands Lincoln. “Lock him up in the dungeons.”
Connor pauses mid-rattle. “You…You don’t mean that.”
Lincoln raises his brows. “I mean that precisely.” He gestures to the guards. “Solitary confinement until we can get the boats ready to travel to Striga. We leave as soon as possible.”
“Yes, Your Highness.” The Captain of the guard grips Connor’s shoulder, angling his body toward the door.
“Wait,” pleads Octavia. “The Anointing starts in a matter of hours. You want to handle this quietly, fine. But take Connor to Striga after the ceremony is over. We can’t Anoint the new Earl if you’re both in Striga. At least, give me that.”
Lincoln and I share another long look. We’ve spent three long years investigating, gutting and rebuilding Acca. Octavia’s spent decades plotting against them. Plus, there’s something to be said for getting some additional insight before we see the Striga Elders. “I’d like talk to my father first, anyway. Would be good to get his thoughts before we go.”
“Exactly,” adds Octavia. “Xavier can help you. Besides, the Council won’t meet until midnight.” Her mismatched eyes glisten with tears. “Please.”
“Fine,” states Lincoln. “He goes to the Council after the Anointing.”
Octavia steps closer to Lincoln, grasping his right hand in both of her own. “My son, I’ll ask you one last time. Please reconsider—”
“Don’t try me, Mother. Not when it comes to Maxon.”
I move to stand by Lincoln’s side. “Connor will visit the Elders, Octavia. Consider the subject closed.” I glance over to the wall clock and then turn to Lincoln.
“Based on the message Dad sent last week, he should’ve arrived an hour ago for his play date with Maxon. We need to find him.”
“Yes, let’s leave,” says Lincoln. He glances pointedly at Connor. “We’re done here.”
Chapter Six
Lincoln and I walk down a deserted corridor, our footsteps drumming out a quick, anxious rhythm against the marble floor. At the end of the gilded passageway stands a huge set of wooden doors with the Rixa eagle carved across them. My heart thuds harder in my chest.
That’s the West Gym, all right. According to Dad’s message, he and Maxon should be inside right now, enjoying their play date.
Ever since I spoke to Hildy, I’ve wanted to hold my son, feel his heart beating, and know that my baby’s safe. Now, he’s only a short walk away. At last.
As we close in on the gym doors, Maxon’s excited voice carries through the hallway. Lincoln and I share a nervous smile. Our boy’s here with his friends, enjoying time with my father.
He’s safe, Myla. Breathe.
I return my attention to the closed door. A new figure materializes before it—a man who’s tall, handsome and ebony-skinned. Like always, he wears a white kilt and leather sandals.
“Anubis?” I stop in my tracks, my voice raised in shock.
“Greetings, little Scala.” He bows to Lincoln. “Your Highness.”
“Hello, Anubis,” says Lincoln. “Nice to finally meet you.”
“And you as well.”