Endure (23 page)

Kithra led us down a series of turns and hallways before coming to a dead end. Two glass doors filled with dark sand hung in front of us with a guard on either side. They were skinnier than most of the guards we’d seen and they didn’t move when we approached. Kithra grunted at them, though they didn’t acknowledge him, and used his pendant again. He turned it left, then right, like a combination lock on a safe. I lost track of the turns and when he pulled it out, a few sounds clicked and the doors parted, disappearing into the wall. Kithra entered but as we followed, the guards’ spears crossed one another and blocked our path.

“You sure you want to grant them your
status
, brother?” Kithra asked, but it sounded more like an insult than anything.

“I am,” Tiki replied, without hesitation.

“Let them pass,” Kithra demanded.

Without a word, the guards retracted their weapons and we stepped into the room.

Kithra used his pendant on the wall and the doors closed behind us. “Stay,” he grumbled.

The room was huge with shaded glass stretching wide and long across the room. Huge columns held up the floor above us, and since there were no exterior walls, a breeze came in between them, keeping the room cool. I shivered again, glancing out between the columns to the city below. It looked small now, but from here I could see just how far the city stretched. It was larger than I had expected, with giant structures going far behind the city we’d seen. A huge bowl-like building in the far corner of the city looked like an aerial shot of a football stadium without the grass, and past that was the river that looked starkly blue from the palace.

With the exception of an enormous bed at the far end of the room and a table to either side of it, there was no furniture. Kithra and Tiki stood next to the bed, staring at the mound of bunched-up covers in the center.

“Mother?” Tiki asked.

The blankets shifted from side to side and then something started to sit up. A growly sound came from it and when Kithra reached out to help, the creature lashed out. A splatter of black hit the floor and Kithra took his arm back, two claw marks cutting across his bicep.

“Forgive me.” Kithra lowered his head in a bow, but Tiki did not respond.

After grunting and struggling to sit up, the creature appeared out of the blankets. Just like the men, Tiki’s mother didn’t wear a shirt. Her body was the size of Kithra, her shoulders broad and arms twice the diameter of my waist. Her breasts appeared above the covers jumping from left to right, massive bags of loose, wrinkled flesh. Finally, she settled back against the clear headboard and they disappeared beneath the pile of blankets on her lap.

The woman’s skin had lost all color. It was so thin and pale she appeared almost translucent. The outline of sagging muscles moved beneath folds of loose skin that hung from her face and limbs. Grey and black scars blemished her body, the largest on her throat. Her orange eyes had lost their pigment and all that remained were white orbs. She stared across the room, the look on her ghostly face made my skin crawl. Wheezing came from her chest and she started to cough and hack before finally settling back in the bed. I could see the faint outline of a dark heart, throbbing in her chest through her thinly veiled ribcage.

All the bones and spikes that jutted from her body were either missing or broken. Open holes in her flesh where spikes had completely fallen off were black and infected, oozing pus. Bits and pieces of the bones were scattered along the blankets; the spikes that remained had been filed down to stumps, hanging in her skin like decorations on a Christmas tree. A beehive of black hair sat on her head, frayed with bald patches throughout. Wrapped around it, and appearing to hold what was left of her hair together, was a glass crown encrusted with gold-rimmed jewels.

“Tikimicharnikato.” Her voice was a steel shovel plunging into gravel, rough and irritating. “My abomination has returned.” Each word was weak and raspy, as though speaking caused her to lose her breath.
 
Tiki didn’t respond; he kept his eyes focused on the Queen. “Come to steal my crown,” she said, and I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question. It was followed by a horrible excuse for laughter, which only induced a coughing fit.

“No, Mother, I have returned upon your request.”

Tiki’s mother mumbled something under her breath, her eyes darting back and forth over the room. “The sons come, one at a time. The first one failed and so the second would rise. First fails, second rise…” Her eyes flickered back and forth in her skull. “The first fails and the other prevails.” And then she was frozen. She sat like a pail statue for a long moment staring at her hands. Long claws jutted from two of her four fingers, the other fingers were only pus-filled infections. She dragged the claws across her face and black blood dripped down her skin. Bones popped in her neck as it turned to the side and she glared at Tiki. “No! I would never have beckoned your repulsive presence.” Tiki opened his mouth to speak, but she held up a frail hand. Dark blood stained her claws and she stared at them a moment before dry heaving. “You’re stench is revolting, and now it’s here by my bed. You have returned to steal my crown, but you are not worthy. No half-breed will
ever
be worthy.” She seemed to be catching her breath the more she spoke, and now she sounded angry. She dry heaved again and a flood of black liquid poured from her lips. She turned to Tiki but he sidestepped to avoid it and it splattered across the floor. “Look what you do to me!”

“Mother, my Queen,” Kithra said, bowing once again.

The Queen glared at Tiki but waved her hand toward Kithra. “Speak, child.”

“You are not well. I have—”

“You think I don’t know that? You stupid, heedless child.” Her head snapped toward Kithra, bones popping in her neck from the quick motion.

Kithra lowered his gaze again. “I only mean, you have forgotten…I have brought this abomination home to you to compete in the Death Throne, as per your request.”

For someone who seemed so ill, the Queen moved with insurmountable speed. Her claws tore across Kithra’s face and more blood splashed the wall.

“Lies!” she screamed, the words were a sharp knife that cut through my head like she’d dragged her pus-filled talons against my skull.

Kithra didn’t react. He took the blow and remained silent.

“I would never ask for this ghastly…
thing
to be returned to me.” Her head creaked back to Tiki. “A curse from Ithreal, that’s what you are.”

Tiki did not move, nor did he react with more than a plain, neutral voice. “If you wish, I shall take my friends and leave.”

“No! You are here, now you have no choice but to compete.” The wheezing was back like a small child that lived deep her in body screaming for help. “And friends? What friends? Who would befriend such filth? It’s—” She let out an unearthly screech and her body bucked wildly. Her remaining claws tore into the bed, black and grey hair being torn out from inside the fabric. She sat up and her white eyes glowed, staring straight at us. “What is this unblessed smut doing in my chambers?”

Kithra jumped up and moved to the end of the bed, blocking her view of us. “I’m sorry, my Queen. Tikimicharnikato enforced clan law, extending his status to them. I had no choice but to bring them.”

“That
thing
has no status here.” She pointed at Tiki and a flab of loose skin flopped down from her palm.

“He does, my Queen.” Kithra spoke with hesitation and his head lowered. “He earned such when he destroyed our king, your husband, and your oldest son, a potential candidate for the Death Throne.” Kithra backed away and to the side, as though trying to avoid being struck again.

My nerves clenched and twisted inside my body. Rayna’s grip had tightened on my hand, and the tips of her claws pushed beneath her fingertips. Vincent stared with a hungry curiosity, his pale skin luminescent in the yellow light that floated on the air.

The Queen’s anger and the glowing eyes faded, confusion contorting her face. Her eyes found Tiki and they widened with surprise, a smile crossing her lips. “Tiki, my child, you have returned to us!” She sounded excited; her lips parting to reveal a row of missing teeth, leaving stained black fangs in the corners of her mouth.

Tiki looked to Kithra, an expression finally moving over his face—confusion. Kithra responded with a shrug.

“Forgive me if I’ve been unwelcoming, my child. I am unwell; such is why I beckoned you forth. I know you had no reason to return, you have earned your status and freedom, but I cannot tell you how happy it makes me to see your face once again.”

Tiki looked back at us and instead of confusion, he appeared afraid. The Queen reached out toward him and Tiki stepped away.

“You deny me, child?” she asked. Even through the raspy tone she sounded hurt.

“Forgive me, Mother, but I have never seen you this way. What illness has come over you?”

“Mother? Mother!” She sat up in the bed, lines of frustration creasing over her face. “Do not call me such a name you soiled creation. You’re no child of mine. You shall address me only as your Queen!” Her voice roared and the walls rattled.

Tiki shook his head. “I’m sorry to tell you, but you are
only
my mother now. I earned status and freedom, and as such, you are no longer my Queen.”

“Careful your tongue!” Kithra stood up straight, reaching for his blade.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” the Queen said, falling back against the headboard. She took in long heavy breaths, seemingly exhausted. “He is rightfully upset. We have treated him horribly.”

“Mother, how can you say such—”

“Silence, Kithra, you are not my only son.”

“Yes, my Queen,” Kithra lowered his head.

“Tiki,” she whispered. “You are my descendant and you have been put through much more than one could ever expect. Many of your brothers would have crumbled beneath the weight of your life, but you did not. You stood strong and you grew stronger. You showed your inner demon and earned a status among our people, something never done before. The Death Throne is for all potential candidates of my throne, and regardless of your heritage, you are worthy.”

Kithra mumbled something under his breath and growled. “Mother, please, I beg you to reconsider.”

“I said silence!”

Kithra dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead against the floor. His hands were spread out above his head and he whispered something in a foreign tongue over and over again.

“Mother,” Tiki said. “I am sorry you are ill, but I do not wish to take part in the Death Throne. Kithra is right; it is not our tradition. I do not wish to have your crown and carry the burden and hardships that come with ruling.”

“Traitor!” she screamed.

“You are sick, Mother, listen to yourself.”

“Guards!” she called. There was silence and the Queen’s eyes narrowed on Tiki. A few moments later, the door opened and a dozen guards shuffled past us. The Queen recomposed herself and although gravelly, her voice sounded caring. “I’m sorry you feel this way, son. But I demand an honorable and worthy successor. You’ve proven to be such many times over. You will compete. It is my will, and so it shall be done.”

“Mother, please don’t—”

The Queen growled and lashed out. Tiki jumped back, avoiding her claws and she snarled. The Queen turned to the guards. “Take this traitor and his abomination friends to the dungeons. They will remain there until the Death Throne begins. He doesn’t want to compete? Fine. Tikimicharnikato and his friends can be the appetizer.”

Before I could react, giant demons towered around us, and even Vincent didn’t try to fight it. There was no way out of this one.

Chapter 20

The glass bars were black and cold, making a
clink
as Kithra shut the cage. He laughed and shook his head. “Finally, something good has come of Mother’s illness. All you dirty little atrocities are out of the palace, off the streets, and in a cage where you belong.”

“Kithra, this is not right. You know that.” Tiki gripped the bars. “My friends cannot be here. They have a duty that far exceeds the Death Throne.”

Kithra’s happiness turned to rage and in a fluent motion, his blade was drawn, the flat edge smashing against the bars and crushing Tiki’s fingers. Tiki gasped and pulled his hands back.

“How dare you. You speak of our ways as though you are one of us. You cite our laws as though a proud citizen of our clan, and then you spit on our most cherished tradition. You are unworthy to compete. If I have my way, you’ll be the first death in the opening ceremony.” Kithra snarled and walked away, letting his blade tap each bar as he disappeared down a long corridor. The doors at the far end made a soft sigh and a lock clicked into place.

Vincent kicked at the bars and growled. “How are we in this position, again?” He glared at me.

“Why are you looking at me? It’s not like this is my fault.”

“Of course it’s your fault. You could have listened to Tiki and let him come alone. We could be well on our way to completing this…rite of yours. Instead, we’re behind bars. Prisoners of some foreign animals. Again!”

“This is not Chase Williams’s fault,” Tiki said. “It is mine. I should not have allowed you to accompany me.”