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The Shadow Throne


The papers I’d signed were still laid out across the desk. I picked them up with the intent to burn them, but a creak on the floorboards behind me warned of someone else in the room. I turned around and saw Vargan poised with a dagger held over his head. With my leg in its current state, I couldn’t outrun him, and no other weapons were nearby. There weren’t many options if he decided to attack, and he clearly would be attacking.

“With my pirates in this battle, you’re going to lose,” I said. “But there is still time to save yourself. Surrender to me and you will live.”

“Never.”

Clearly, this man had no talent for negotiating. To be fair, I wasn’t particularly good at it either.

“You intended for that thief to bring the message to me.” Vargan’s voice trembled with rage. “You wanted this to end at Farthenwood.”

Of course I did. I knew this place as well as my own castle, and if one of these homes had to be destroyed, it wasn’t going to be mine. At the time I arranged for the pirates to come here, there were still a few unresolved details in my mind. But I had known the pirates would be needed.

“It had to end here,” I said. “Otherwise the pirates would’ve stayed hidden in the secret passages until they rotted. They’d have ended up smelling like you, and that would’ve been a shame.”

Vargan cried out and rushed toward me. I started to duck, but he grabbed my shirt and shoved me onto the table, then pinned my legs with his weight.

He raised the dagger again, but was distracted by a loud cry. Conner was running toward us. I never saw him enter the room.

Vargan turned and with the dagger he had intended for me, slashed Conner across his chest. Everything froze in that moment, except for the fine white silks of Conner’s vest that turned a horrible color of red. He patted at the blood and then raised his hand to look at it more closely, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Once he accepted it, he lowered his hand and tumbled to the floor. By then, I had squirmed free and knelt beside Conner, who took my hand in his. With gasping words, he said, “I always was a patriot, Jaron. I never lied when I said that you are my king. Forgive me.”

He moved to kiss my fingers, but instead drew in a gurgled breath and slumped to the floor, dead.

“He was a traitor to us both,” Vargan said.

Maybe he was, but he had also just saved my life. Conner had died much as he lived, in the grayest shadow between right and wrong.

By then, I had put some distance between Vargan’s dagger and myself, but now Kippenger and several other soldiers from both Avenia and Mendenwal had heard Conner’s cry and entered the office. I rolled my eyes and sighed, more irritated than afraid. Was it too much to hope for someone on my side to enter? Even one burly, angry pirate would’ve been nice.

I turned back to Vargan. “Why did Mendenwal join you? They’ve never been our enemy.”

Vargan laughed. “When you disappeared four years ago, your father lied to all of us, a political game to keep us away from his borders. I thought it was a rather clever trick, but Mendenwal did not. So when you returned to the throne, it wasn’t hard to stir up their anger. I reminded Humfrey of that time you challenged him as a child, how dangerous you could become if we allowed you to keep your crown. Then I promised him half of Carthya as his spoils of victory.”

My eyes narrowed. “He can’t possibly believe you’ll allow that.”

Vargan shrugged. “Humfrey is far too trusting. I alone am the emperor of Carthya now. That fool king sitting on Mendenwal’s throne doesn’t realize I’m coming for him next.”

“Avenia has no power over Mendenwal,” a voice boomed. We all turned to the hidden passage door opening behind Conner’s desk. The man who emerged was advanced in his years, but his voice betrayed nothing of his age. He was King Humfrey of Mendenwal, and Lord Kerwyn stood at his side.


I turned to look back at Vargan, who had paled to the shade of new-fallen snow, but in the absence of Humfrey declaring any orders, Vargan said, “I have a treaty here signed by Jaron not one hour ago.” He focused on me. “This was a clever trick, hiding the king in these walls. But none of it matters. If you had bothered to read the treaty, you’d know that it gives sole control of Carthya to Avenia. Mendenwal gets nothing. Jaron signed away everything to me.”

I smiled back at him. “You require spectacles for reading, but don’t want people to see you using them. Some might consider that vanity. I consider it foolish. You should have read my signature.”

Vargan grabbed the treaty and squinted to read it. While he worked at it, I sat on the desk, crushing a corner of the papers beneath me and said, “I wouldn’t sign so much as my toenail clippings over to you.”

Kippenger pushed his way forward and scanned the treaty.

“What did he write?” Vargan asked.

Kippenger suppressed a grin — I could’ve sworn he did. Without looking at anyone, he said, “Jaron wrote, ‘You’ll get nothing from me, ever, you dog-breath, rotted corpse of a king.’ ”

Vargan glowered at me. In return, I smiled and looked around the room, rather proud of myself for that.

King Humfrey addressed his soldiers in the room. “Send out word that Mendenwal has reunited with our longtime friends in the kingdom of Carthya. Any Avenian who continues to fight will now face Mendenwal’s blades.” Then he turned to Vargan. “Unless you wish to surrender.”

“Never!”

“Your Majesty, it’s over,” Kippenger said. “Let’s make our peace and save what lives we can.”

Vargan shook his head. “I will lose every last man in my army if it means Jaron falls. Kill him!” Kippenger locked eyes with me but neither of us moved. He only studied me with a newfound respect.

Vargan noticed the exchange. With a snarl, he muttered, “I’ll do it myself, then!”

He raised his dagger again and advanced on me, but Kippenger moved faster. His sword pierced the king from behind. Vargan fell to his knees, turned up his head with a face etched in pain, and then crumpled to the ground, dead by his own commander’s hand.

It had happened so fast, none of us who remained in the room were sure of what to do next. Humfrey was looking at me, but my attention was locked on the commander.

Kippenger stared at his fallen king and slowly nodded his head, as if convincing himself that he had done the right thing. Then he knelt before me and placed his sword at my feet. “Avenia surrenders. Enough blood has been spilled.”

“On all sides,” I agreed. “So who rules Avenia now?”

Kippenger shrugged. “I do, I suppose.”

“That won’t work. You hate me.”

“Less than I used to.”

That was good enough. And I felt even better about him when he reached into his pocket and withdrew my father’s ring — the king’s ring — and held it out to me. He said, “I had thought by taking this that I would remove any traces of your nobility. But I could not take the royalty in your heart.”

I couldn’t help but grin. “For the record, I’m very glad you didn’t try to take my heart.” I took the ring from him and replaced it on my finger, grateful for the return of the now-familiar weight.
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