Dinavhek- The Fall Read online

  “Yes, well... I guess I'll be off then. I'll be settling down for the night. Good luck to you both! Knowing our company, you'll be needing it. Perhaps I'll leave an offering out to Lady Anikasi tonight.”

  The prince searched high and low for Aasimah. He was about to give up, and retire to his quarters, when he felt a hand close around his from behind. He turned, startled, finding himself face-to-face with her.

  “I looked everywhere for you!” he grumbled under his breath.

  “I know, it was kind of funny.”

  He glared at her, thoroughly agitated.

  It didn't phase her one bit.

  “Did you really think I would be in that dusty old storage room?” Aasimah teased.

  “All right, the game is over, and we've found each other.”

  “So we have,” Aasimah agreed, the mischief never leaving her eyes. Frustrated as he was, the prince couldn't help smiling a little at that. He missed Aasimah, he missed Itholera, and he missed Glanen. They never actually left, physically, but it was almost as if their spirits had. Though only a week had gone by since the disturbing revelations of the inner workings of Dinavhek's elite forces, it felt as though it had been years. Adsuni wanted desperately for things to go back to the way they were.

  It was a fool's dream, and he knew it.

  So, too, did Aasimah.

  “It's been a strange week, hasn't it?” she asked, the more serious tone of her voice momentarily stunning him.

  “I don't see it getting any better from here.”

  “That woman, she's...” Aasimah trailed off, not sure what to say.

  Adsuni spared her. “Horrible? Yes, quite! If that's what all of our dinners for the foreseeable future are going to be like, I will happily starve.”

  “Don't be ridiculous,” Aasimah cautioned him. “You don't know what starvation actually is. You should consider yourself lucky.”

  Again, the prince was reminded of the vastly different worlds that he and Aasimah grew up in. “I'm sorry, that was tasteless. I mean tactless!”

  Aasimah laughed. It was a harsh, unsettling laugh, but the prince felt a bit relieved in knowing that he hadn't caused any offense. His face reddened, and he brought his hands up to hide it, but Aasimah caught them gently, yet firmly.

  “Yes, that was pretty tasteless of you,” she whispered.

  “Are we going to leave now?” Adsuni grumbled.

  “How should I know? This was your plan, after all.”

  “Right. Er, let's go.”

  Adsuni began to lead her away, but Aasimah had another idea. The prince did not even realize that she was not following him until he'd made it to the end of the corridor, only to find himself a lone. Turning around, he saw her at the very opposite end, heading for his office. The prince gave a pained little grunt before hastening after her.

  “Aasimah!” he said as loudly as he dared once he got to the door, for his office hovered over the left corner of the dining hall, and he dared not bring attention to himself.

  No answer came, and the prince entered, opening and closing the door as quietly as he could. He found Aasimah leaning over the window, as if listening to something. If only she'd listen to him as intently! Adsuni closed the distance between them, as curious as he was flustered. Aasimah glanced at him, briefly, but said nothing to acknowledge him.

  Adsuni didn't like that very much, and he opened his mouth to tell her so when she stepped aside, motioning for him to take her place.

  “They're down there,” she mouthed, pointing unnecessarily at the bottom floor.

  “Have you been listening in this entire time?” the prince asked, impressed and horrified at the same time.

  “Of course! Wouldn't you?”

  The prince shook his head, not to disagree, but more to convey his disappointment. “Have you any idea how dangerous this is? If Father knew that you've been eavesdropping, this entire time, he could have you hanged!”

  “Let's be realistic; he could have me hanged for much less than that,” Aasimah said with a wry grin, one that the prince did not return. Seeing his normally kind and gentle face twisted into such an ugly scowl, Aasimah continued. “They've been talking about you, you know. Behind your back. They do not think you are fit to be the heir to the throne.”

  Adsuni winced. He suspected as much, but the confirmation did nothing to boost his confidence. “That time should be decades away. Of course I'm not ready now! I'm only twenty-two.”

  “The King of Takirar took the throne at the age of fourteen,” Aasimah reminded him. “Say what you will about his methods, and his cruelty, but you must admit, that's impressive. He's certainly not the only ruler to have ever taken a throne so young.”

  Adsuni backed away from the window, fearing that they might, too, be overheard. He reached out for Aasimah's arm, tugging lightly at the sleeve of her dress. Aasimah sighed, but followed him obediently as he led her over to his desk.

  “They're not wrong,” he confessed. “I don't think I'll ever really be ready. I can't imagine the kind of person who would be! Being responsible for so many lives – it's daunting, to say the least. I can't even keep a handle on the lives of my own friends, let alone the many hundreds of thousands in my own kingdom.”

  “That's why you have Glanen and the Knighthood. You can argue about the morality of what they do until the sun comes up, but they are nothing if not efficient.”

  Adsuni knew he was going to regret asking his next question, but the subject matter troubled him too much to let it slide. “What else have you overheard?”

  “They're blaming the recent murders on some type of sub-race of the elves. They say there's another country that most people don't know about, one where most of these people live. They say that they were exiled from the human lands, and hold a grudge against us, so they've been sending in assassins to take out human leaders and destabilize our countries so we'll be easier to invade.”

  “That sounds...”

  “...like absolute madness?” Aasimah finished for him.

  It was difficult for the prince to make out Aasimah's expressions in the lightless room. They'd situated themselves closer to the middle of the room, at the edge of the moonlight. The prince wanted to light a candle or two, but he didn't want to risk being caught, certainly not after everything they'd discussed.

  “I want to say it is,” Adsuni whispered urgently. “I want to say it sounds like a children's tale. Elves? Dwarves? They don't sound real to me. I've never so much as seen one!”

  “And why do you think that is?”

  “I always thought it was because they just didn't like us humans, but now it seems like it's because they're not permitted to enter the human lands, if we're to believe what they're saying. By Anikasi's light! Can you believe this? How much of the world is being denied to us? How much more is there to see and explore?”

  “If there was ever a time to say 'be careful what you wish for,' prince, I think that time is now! You have no idea how lucky you are to be this sheltered.”

  Adsuni left his chair, and started pacing about the room before remembering that it might just be possible for the party below them to hear his footsteps. The prince forced himself to remain calm. He stood in the center of the open floor, thinking carefully about what he might say next. How many times did he and Aasimah have this exact conversation before?

  “I know what you're saying to be true,” he said, rejoining Aasimah at the opposite end of his desk. “I know that. We've talked about it at length, more times than I can count. But you have seen so much more of this world than I have. Perhaps you've seen too much, but I have seen too little. I don't want to live in the shadows anymore. If I am to become King someday, how can I hope to keep my own people safe if I turn a blind eye to the outside world?”

  Aasimah appeared thoughtful. “I understand. It makes you wonder, how much of your history has been kept from you?”

  “Indeed.”

  The mischievous glint returned to Aasimah's eyes. “Ther
e's at least one way to find out,” she offered.

  The prince buried his face in his hands, thinking it over for a long while. Finally, he said, “if we're committed to this, we might as well get the best view there is. We can hide in Mother's garden. We might be able to sneak down the stairs without being noticed.”

  “For someone with so much imagination, you're picking the worst way to go about this,” Aasimah returned bluntly. “Are you really going to tell me you've lived here your whole life, and haven't found any better way to sneak out of here?”

  “There is a passageway that leads down to the stables. We could make a round from there to the garden. But...”

  “Yes?”

  “We would have to get to it through the workshop.”

  The very same workshop on the other side of the kitchen.

  Go figure.

  Glanen and Itholera were still in the kitchen when they arrived. The knight seemed to be nursing a slight headache, and Itholera was busy preparing hot tea for him. To the prince's relief, there was not a single mouse to be seen.

  “What are you doing back here?” Glanen asked, surprised to see them.

  “Such a heartwarming question,” Aasimah observed.

  Glanen's cheeks turned red. “You know I didn't mean it like that! I'm just... surprised to see you. I thought you'd decided to retire for the night.”

  “That was the plan,” Adsuni said in a low voice. Was.

  “What changed?”

  Adsuni's eyes flitted over to Aasimah.

  “What?” she asked. “Oh, right. We were spying on the dinner guest.”

  “Lady Kharqa,” Glanen corrected, somewhat disapprovingly. Although he didn't particularly like the woman, he didn't want Aasimah forming a habit of referring to her in such a disrespectful manner; it could prove disastrous for her own well-being, and it would reflect poorly upon the prince. His eyes widened suddenly, as if it took him a moment to fully understand Aasimah's admission.

  “You were spying on them? Have you gone mad?”

  “Glanen, please,” Adsuni said. “Aasimah—”

  “—has always been a bit mad,” Itholera broke in, taking everyone by surprise. She blushed, and seemed to shrink before their very eyes.

  “It's true, isn't it?” she asked through the stunned silence, before her companions burst out into laughter.

  Everyone except for Glanen, who appeared very cross. “Are we really going to ignore the obvious implications of Aasimah's actions?”

  Aasimah wanted to ask if the headache had somehow made Glanen more eloquent, but she'd already riled him up enough for one night, and bit back her retort. Adsuni scuffed his feet along the floor, pointedly looking away from her. Itholera backed away from the group slightly, as if fearing that someone might lash out.

  “I agree, it was incredibly foolish,” Adsuni said. “My friend, you will be sorely disappointed to know that I, too, have been spying on their meeting.”

  Glanen paled. “What? My prince! That is – you have surpassed recklessness! It is one thing for a servant to engage in such foolishness, but the one and only crown prince? What were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that my father is beginning to fall in love with someone who might wish harm upon him, Glanen. He isn't acting like himself. Face it, none of us are! I know we've all... we've all seen things that cannot be unseen. We've done things that we cannot undo. For better or worse, all of us have changed. But this? Can't you understand? Something isn't right about this!”

  Glanen could be very stubborn when it suited him.

  “It was still reckless to spy on them! What would you do if they'd caught you? What do you think they would have done? Aasimah would be lucky if they didn't have her executed.”

  “To be fair, he already told me that,” Aasimah said. “I chose to spy, on my own. And the king wouldn't execute his own son, if that's where you were planning on going with that.”

  “Of course he wouldn't, but – damn it all, this whole thing is ridiculous!”

  “Keep your voice down,” Aasimah hissed.

  “Listen,” Adsuni said, lending her some support, “we're not going to be here much longer, we're just on our way to—”

  Aasimah stepped back, onto the prince's toe, hoping to silence him.

  The prince yelped, Aasimah cursed under her breath, and Itholera hurried over to the door to see if anyone was approaching. The prince glared at Aasimah. What was it with everyone going after his foot this night?

  “On your way to where, exactly?” Glanen asked.

  “The workshop,” Adsuni said, before Aasimah could try to stop him again.

  “Workshop? Why there?” Itholera asked, keeping a watchful eye on the hallway, through the small window on the door.

  “Because they'll be able to hear more,” Glanen sighed.

  “Exactly, and we're losing time!” Aasimah grumbled.

  “Please, my friend, just let us through. We will not implicate either of you. If we get caught, we'll say we sneaked in while you were serving dessert.”

  The knight closed his eyes, as if what his friend said was so mindbogglingly foolish that he could not even bear to look at him. Aasimah actually found herself feeling a bit sorry for him. Adsuni felt much more so. It was an enormous risk that he was asking his friend to take, one that carried severe consequences if they were discovered. How could he ask that of his best friend? What sort of friend was he to do so in the first place?

  “Is anyone coming?” Glanen asked Itholera, who shook her head. The knight moved aside, granting them access to the door behind where he'd been standing before. “Fine, go along. Just be careful, won't you? I'm supposed to be the reckless idiot, not you.”

  Adsuni clapped his friend on the shoulder, a friendly gesture which was not returned. Aasimah, having already made her way to the door, stood in its frame and watched him expectantly. Glanen reluctantly gave the prince an awkward half-hug before moving over, past the tea kettle, to an already opened bottle of brandy.

  According to the prince, his mother had an interest in crafting, and used to carve toys for him when he was small. Almost too small to remember, really. It wasn't a very womanly interest, certainly not one that a peasant would be able to pursue, but the queen enjoyed a bit more freedom in that regard. King Zaeem found it a bit strange, but over time, he grew to appreciate his wife's odd hobbies – even if it meant settling for rougher hands, and tending to a few splinters here and there.

  Aasimah wasn't sure what she was expecting before entering the workshop, but whatever it was, it didn't match reality. The room was smaller than she might have expected, for being a “queen's retreat,” and it was dusty and full of all sorts of weird creations, some finished, some not. There were half-painted dolls and animal figurines scattered about. Towards the back of the room, against the middle section of the wall, sat a very simple desk. On the wall to the left, there were several notches with faded lettering. Aasimah walked over to inspect them, tracing her fingers over the lines and numbers.

  “Father kept track of my height a few years after mother left us. He stopped when I was ten.” The prince explained. “I know I introduced the garden as my mother's sanctuary, and to the public eye, it was... but to her, it was this room.”

  Adsuni reached over and grabbed a figurine off the desk, an unfinished carving of a wolf.

  “This was the last thing she worked on. I think it was supposed to be a birthday gift.” He gestured to a few other figurines, which were already painted, and perfectly scaled to the wolf. A knight and a horse, a child with black, curly hair, and giant brown eyes.

  The prince offered the figurine to Aasimah, who accepted it with more sensitivity than any of her companions might have thought possible. She turned the object over in her hands a few times, getting a good look at every last detail. It was a true work of art, and it came from a place of love that Aasimah could surely recognize, despite having never experienced it before.

  “The craftsmanship is beau
tiful,” she said before handing it back to him.

  The prince grimaced and set it down exactly where he found it. Aasimah found it odd, but before she could ask him about, the prince moved on.

  “Father said that sometimes I would go missing in the middle of the night. He and mother would search frantically, just so they'd end up finding me in here, playing with all the toys she crafted – and some of her tools. That's how I got this,” he added sheepishly, showing Aasimah a scar on his left thumb. It was in the shape of a crescent moon, and it made the skin on the inner side of it appear slightly raised.

  “I was playing with one of her vials, you see... It had this beautiful shiny substance inside of it. I think she shook it around sometimes to watch it settle. The glass broke in my hand, and it sliced my thumb. It's a good thing she knew how to sew!”

  “Ouch,” Aasimah said, taking his hand in her own and running her own thumb over his scar. “You could have said it was a training accident or something, you know.”

  The prince chuckled. “This is just between us, all right? As far as the rest of the world is concerned, that's exactly what happened.”

  Aasimah let go of his hand, and followed him as he led her through the opposite end of the room. They passed by so many oddities – toys that were decades old, tools that were forgotten and left about, blocks of wood and hardened clay, and bundles of cloth.

  Adsuni brought her over to a hole in the wall, about the size of one's fist. It was lower to the floor, forcing them to get on their hands and knees to be able to hear out of it, and they had to be careful not to let themselves be seen. Candlelight cast a soft glow from within, and sure enough, they could eavesdrop on their dinner company.

  “We could send emissaries to Helisfar. We know King Haldiir is a wise and just man at heart.”

  Konrad?

  “That may have worked before, but it won't work again,” the king said, his voice tinged with regret. “You know how little the elves think of our kind. They think us all barbarians.”