A Gift

A Gift
The horse races through the streets, its hooves pounding against the cobblestone as the smoke continues to get worse. Fire licks up the sides of the palace, devouring balconies and banners. 

Jakko has fire magic.

I glance back toward the palace, my thoughts snagging on the image of him standing alone in the courtyard. Surely he isn’t the one setting his own city ablaze.

Dastan’s arm stays firmly around my waist, holding me against him as we weave through panicked crowds and fleeing servants.

The city is falling apart. People scream and shout, the sound of metal clinging against each other. 

Soldiers rush past us, some in Jakko’s colors while others wear a deep crimson. My heart hammers so hard in my chest that it makes me lightheaded. 

“Where are Zumir and James?” I ask over the noise.

“They’re outside the walls.” His voice is strained, breath heavy as he urges the horse. “They’re waiting with horses.”

Relief is clear in the pit of my stomach, but it gets stuck. I tense, wrapping a hand around his arm. “And Em?”

He nods. “She made it.”

I let out the breath I was holding. This nightmare might actually be over now. I’ll be able to hide it in the back of my mind, letting Dastan soothe out my nightmares again. 

I see the gates up ahead. They’re off the hinges, hanging off to the side. We are so close to freedom that I can taste it, like sugar on my tongue. My grip on Dastan’s arm tightens.

The horse slows, and I frown. “Dastan?”

He doesn’t answer, but I feel his entire body go rigid at my back. My eyes try to take in everything in front of us, what could he be reacting to? 

I then make out the cloud of dust that seems to move closer to us. It hides the rows of soldiers that walk shoulder to shoulder. They wear the crimson cloaks… not Jakko’s men. 

They walk until they’re right in front of us. One of them steps into our path, reaching up to run his fingers through the horse’s neck. 

“Easy now.” His voice stretches into a creepy sound, his smile not reaching his eyes. “We’re only conducting inspections.”

Dastan subtly pulls the reins, pulling the horse away from his touch. The soldier catches them before we move more than a few feet.

“No need for that.” His hand tightens, mouth strained. “If you’re not who we are looking for, then you’ve got nothing to fear.”

A chill races across my skin, the air around my fingers cooling. Thin frost gathers beneath my nails before disappearing just as quickly. I can’t let them see who I am. 

Dastan exhales slowly. “We’re only trying to leave the city.”

“Of course you are.” The soldier smiles wider.

I think he’s going to laugh, teasing us entirely, but the amusement in his face disappears. His shoulders stiffen. The color draining from his face, and he takes an instinctive step back, lowering his gaze.

He doesn’t look at us directly, he looks past us. Heavy footfalls on the ground alert us to someone’s approach. 

I don’t need to see him to know exactly who it is. The man is dark, his robes darker than the others. A thin crown rests on his gray hair. He removes a carved pipe from between his lips, handing it to a servant without taking his eyes off us.

“Did we complete their inspection?” His voice is almost pleasant, warm around the edges, but it still sends a shiver down my spine. 

“No, Your Majesty,” the man next to us says, still keeping his eyes lowered. 

Kaan walks toward the horse slowly, like a predator that already knows its prey has nowhere to run. His eyes settle on me. Not my face, but my hands.

I instinctively curl them into fists, but that sets him off. His gaze sharpens, a light quirk on his lips. “May I?”

Before I can pull away, he reaches for my hand. His lips brush my knuckles and revulsion crawls beneath my skin. Dastan stiffens behind me, but he can’t do anything, he can’t say anything. There are too many of them. 

He turns my hand over, his thumb brushes across one of my rings. “Interesting.”

His eyes slowly lift to mine, and I feel my heart get stuck in my throat. I don’t want him to look at me, as if he can see right through me. 

“Where did you get these?”

“I—”

Before I can answer, rough hands seize Dastan. He’s ripped from the saddle.

“No!”

I reach for him. Kaan catches my wrist before I can move. Dastan tears free almost immediately, throwing himself toward us.

But Kaan is fast. 

A sword appears between them, the tip biting into Dastan’s chest. He freezes as we watch blood bloom through his shirt.

“Dastan!” I wrench against the grip on my wrist until my shoulder burns.

Kaan doesn’t even look at me. His attention stays fixed on Dastan.

“I’ll repeat myself.” His voice is almost bored. “Where did she get the rings?”

Dastan’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t answer. Not even as more soldiers close in around him, each of them with a sword in their hands. 

They force him to his knees, Kaan pressing the sword on his chest until more blood pools there. Dastan groans. 

I can’t let them do this, can’t let them hurt him. “They belonged to my parents!”

The words burst from me, and Kaan turns slowly in my direction, eyes studying me. 

“Please!” Tears blur my vision. “Please don’t hurt him.”

Kaan studies my rings again, then my covered hair. Something calculating settles across his face. Hooves thunder across the stone, stealing his attention. 

A horse comes to a hard stop behind us, Jakko swings down before it fully settles.

His breathing is uneven, his gaze meeting mine. Only for an instant. He forces it away and bows his head toward the Blood King.

“My apologies.” His voice is steady. “My guest appears to have wandered.”

Guest? I stare at him. The Blood King raises an eyebrow, also staring at him.

“She was meant as a gift.” 

My breath catches. What? Jakko never looks at me. Not once.

“This servant interfered.” He gestures toward Dastan. “I would appreciate the opportunity to deal with him myself.”

Silence hangs between them. The Blood King hums thoughtfully. “You’ve always been generous with me, Jakko.”

Dastan jerks violently against the guards holding him. “No.”

Kaan’s grip tightens painfully around my wrist. “I accept.”

The world tilts beneath me. I stare at Jakko.

The chains on the soldiers’ armor rattle as they struggle to keep him down. “Jakko, don’t you fucking dare.”

The corner of Jakko’s jaw jumps, but he never looks at him.

Dastan tears one arm free for the briefest second before another guard crashes into him, driving him back to his knees.

Kaan walks me forward, toward the waiting horse. We walk by Jakko, close enough that he leans toward me, whispering. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Take her,” the Blood King orders to his men. 

I dig my heels into the stone. “No!”

I fight. I kick. I Scream.

“You lied!” My voice breaks. “You lied to me!”

The Blood King drags me away as though I weigh nothing.

The last thing I see is Dastan on his knees.

And Jakko, watching me, looking terrified.