Page 108 of While the Dark Remains
Kallias stands here with his engineer, Basileious, as well as Ballast, Aelia, the Prism Master, and a half dozen Daerosian guards in steel helms.
I sense Vil stiffen, because we didn’t count on quite this many soldiers. His eyes flick to mine and I nod. We can still go forward with our plan.
“Welcome,” says Kallias, flashing his teeth at me and not even glancing at Saga or Vil. “Now. Before we go any further, I must ask the Prism Master to surrender his magic, for a little while, so we are all on even ground when the weapon is uncovered.”
Brandr throws his head back and laughs, the stone around us glowing suddenly red. Heat sears through my furs, and I fight to breathe.
Kallias looks at Brandr mildly. “I do not trust you, High Master. There is nothing to keep you from obliterating us all, seizing the weapon, and melting the earth like so much candle wax. I must insist on this, or I will take you no further.” He snaps his fingers, and Basileious lifts an iron collar into view.
“Star metal,” says Kallias. “It will dampen your power while you are wearing it, but have no lasting effects.”
Brandr’s gaze darts around the chamber, landing, for a moment, on mine, before returning to the king. “You forget, Your Majesty, thatIdo not trustyou.”
Kallias nods and takes the collar from Basileious. Without any warning, he snaps it around Ballast’s neck. Ballast curses and jerks away from his father, but it’s too late. The collar is secure.
“Come here, boy,” says Kallias, and to my horror Ballast obeys. His eye patch and ribbon are violet, turned to liquid darkness in the pulsing blue light.
The king draws a tiny jar of honey from his robe and, after opening it, smears a little on Ballast’s cheek. He takes out another jar, and my gut wrenches at the sight of the buzzing wasp inside. Kallias lets the insect out, and it goes at once to the honey.
“Can you keep it from stinging you?” says Kallias. “I wonder.”
Ballast closes his eyes, his lips moving quickly. But no magic sparks off him.
Kallias waves his hand to agitate the wasp, and Ballast winces as it stings him. His father laughs and flicks the insect to the floor, grinding it under his heel.
“Andwhy,” says Brandr coolly, “would I submit myself to that?”
Kallias faces him. “Because you are the Prism Master. Surely a mere bit of iron can’t make you as powerless as our little half blood here.”
Ballast’s jaw is tight, and a welt is already rising on his cheek where the wasp stung him, and it’s all I can do to keep from slamming Kallias to the ground and ripping out his wretched throat.
“Fine,” says Brandr. “I will play your game, little king. When I tire of it, I will kill you.”
“How very un-Iljaria of you,” Kallias drawls.
Basileious takes out a second collar and steps up to Brandr, who ducks his head and allows the engineer to lock it around his neck with violently trembling hands.
I watch the magic flicker out from Brandr’s skin. He seems suddenly frail, as if the barest wind could rattle him apart. But when he speaks, his voice is steady. “Lead on then, little king.”
Kallias smiles. He takes the torch from Nicanor and ducks into the tunnel opposite the landing.
We all follow. I find myself walking between Ballast and Saga, and I’m thrown back to those long weeks we journeyed together through the Iljaria labyrinth.
Ahead of me, Ballast breathes ragged and quick, obviously in pain, and it wrecks me.
The tunnel narrows until it’s barely wider than my ceiling vents, and I have to duck my head. The sudden taste of magic hits me like a gale force wind, so much stronger than on any of my solo visits. I gasp and stumble, and Ballast turns to grab my arm, steadies me. “All right?” he asks, his eye meeting mine. I read regret there. Grief.
“I’m all right,” I whisper. It’s a lie.
We keep going.
The tunnel presses in around us, glinting blue and green and silver. It tastes cold and strange and powerful on my tongue, and I struggle to keep up with everyone else.
Finally, the tunnel opens again, and we step into a natural cavern in the rock.
There’s hardly time to catch my breath before Kallias is beside me, folding his hand around mine. His eyes glitter as he smiles at me. “There is still time, Princess Astridur, to give me the answer I have been waiting for.”
“You are wrong, Your Majesty.” I can hardly speak around my tight throat. “We are out of time.”
