Ruined (9 page)

CAS WOKE TO
someone shoving his shoulder, and he rolled over, squinting in the sudden light. His father stood next to his bed, holding a lantern in the pitch-black room.

“Get up,” the king said. “I want you to see this.” Light flickered off his face, and Cas could see his father's mouth pulled into a thin, grim line.

Cas hurried out of bed and didn't question his father.

He pulled on pants and his boots and followed the king out of the room. The castle was quiet as they headed quickly down the hallway to the stairs.

Several guards waited at the main door, including Galo. They formed a circle around the king and the prince as they strode out the door and into the cool night air.

Cas glanced at his father's tense face. They hadn't spoken since the meeting with the warriors last week, but he got the feeling the serious expression the king was wearing didn't have much to do with Cas.

They walked so quickly they were practically jogging. They passed the front gate, where horses waited, and Cas jumped onto one. He followed his father to the east, away from Royal City, the horses at a trot.

They rode for only a few minutes before the glow of several torches lit up the night sky. The king slowed, then stopped and dismounted his horse. Cas and the guards did the same.

His father motioned for him to come closer, and Cas fell into step beside him as they headed in the direction of the torches. A large group of guards surrounded something Cas couldn't see yet. Four men dressed in black-and-gray hunter uniforms stood with the guards.

“We've caught one of them,” the king said. “One of the Ruined trying sneak into Olso.”

Cas took in a sharp breath and turned his attention back to the circle of guards, hoping to catch a glimpse. He'd never seen a Ruined before.

“We're bringing him to the castle for questioning, but not while he's at full strength. It's not safe. I want you to see what they're capable of.”

“How will you weaken him?” Cas asked.

“A Ruined can only use so much power before it starts to wane. The more power you bring out, the weaker they get.”

Cas suddenly wished he'd brought his sword. It had been stupid to run out of his room without grabbing his sword first. His father had one at his hip.

The circle of guards parted as they approached, revealing a young man in the middle. He sat in the dirt, his hands tied behind his back. He was dressed in all black, with spots of dust on his pants and shirt. He had a small cut under one eye, but he was otherwise unharmed. His arms were covered in an intricate web of marks, and Cas squinted to see them better. He'd always assumed the Ruined marks were ugly. But this Ruined's were a shade lighter than his olive skin, a series of thin lines that wrapped around his flesh like a complicated series of vines. They were more art than ugly.

“He hasn't spoken, Your Majesty,” one of the guards said to the king.

The Ruined straightened, and he looked from the king to the prince. He stayed focused on Cas, his eyebrows furrowing.

The Ruined was staring at him like he was considering the best way to murder him. Now Cas really wished he had a sword.

“He will,” the king said. “But that's not my concern at the moment.” He frowned at Cas. “Plant your feet. Watch the trees.”

Anticipation and fear fluttered in Cas's chest. He nodded solemnly. The Ruined was still staring at him. He pretended not to notice. Galo stepped next to him, sword drawn.

“Up,” a guard said to the Ruined, kicking him in the side. The Ruined glared at him, slowly getting to his feet. He was young. Maybe the same age as Cas.

The guard delivered a punch straight into the Ruined's stomach, and the gasp echoed through the trees. The wind blew Cas's hair into his eyes, and he pushed it away as the guard punched the man across the face.

“What is he doing?” Cas asked his father quietly.

“Making him angry.”

The Ruined stumbled backward, hitting the ground with a thump. Another guard hauled him to his feet, shoving him back to the center of the circle.

Another gust of wind blew across Cas's face, this one stronger than the last. A hunter stepped forward, pulling a dagger off his belt. He held his hand up to the guard, indicating that he should stop.

“You have to work harder with this one. He has pretty good control.” The hunter grabbed the Ruined by the arm, cutting off his ropes with a quick slice of the knife. He pulled one hand behind the Ruined's back.

The hunter sliced off one of the Ruined's fingers.

A scream tore through the night, and Cas's entire body went cold. Blood dripped from the Ruined's hand, his face twisted in pain.

The ground started to shake.

Cas stumbled, throwing his arms out to steady himself. A long crack ripped through the dirt right in between his legs, and he quickly jumped to one side. A guard had his arm, keeping him steady as the ground rumbled.

“Heads up!” someone yelled, and Cas spun around to see
the tree just next to the Ruined tilting dangerously to the left. A few hunters scrambled out of the way as the roots ripped out of the dirt. The trunk slammed to the ground, narrowly missing a guard. Two more trees quickly followed.

The Ruined tried to make a run for it, but a guard grabbed him from behind. Another one punched him across the face. Dirt lifted off the ground as if caught in an invisible wind. The Ruined glared as he tossed it in the faces of a few guards.

Cas whirled around, shaking off the guard who still had his arm. His father stood in front of him. Behind him, Cas heard a loud smack, then a grunt from the Ruined. The ground rumbled again, though not nearly as powerfully as the first time.

“Imagine if you were alone with him,” the king said. He gestured at a fallen tree. “Look what he's capable of.”

Look what he did because you tortured him.
The thought hit him so forcefully he felt sick.

“Who is he?” Cas asked quietly. He wanted his father to tell him that this was one of the worst Ruined. Explain how he'd killed innocent people. Maybe he'd been with the group that murdered Mary's parents.

“You heard them,” the king said, gesturing at the guards. “He hasn't spoken. We'll find out who he is and why he was crossing into Olso soon enough, though.”

Dread filled Cas's chest, and he dropped his gaze from his father's.

Was this what the hunters did in Ruina and Vallos? They hunted down Ruined and tortured them? Killed them?

Of course they did. Cas knew that. He'd known it since his father issued the order. But it felt different, seeing it in action.

His father took a step closer to him. “If Olso partnered with the Ruined, it could be devastating to us. Do you understand that, Casimir? The combination of Olso's military abilities with the Ruined's powers could destroy us.”

“They said they didn't know the Ruined were coming into Olso,” Cas said. “Do you think they were lying?”

“Yes.” The king ran a hand over his beard. “Always assume everyone is lying. Don't trust anyone, except those closest to you. You have a tendency to see the good in people, and I admire that, but it will destroy you. I promise you it will.”

Cas's head was starting to pound, and the screams from the Ruined were doing nothing to help it. The gusts of wind blowing across his face kept getting softer as they drained the man of his power.

“What will you do if he admits to working with the warriors?” Cas asked.

“We will plan an attack. We've defeated Olso before, and we can do it again. We just can't allow ourselves to be caught off guard.”

Cas glanced over his shoulder at the Ruined. He was on the ground, his injured hand cradled against his chest. His eyes fluttered, a moan escaping his lips.

“I understand. But is this the best way?” He lowered his voice, unable to keep back the questions he'd often wanted to ask the past year. “Is killing the Ruined the only way?”

“When you think you've come up with a better plan, please share it. I'll be eager to hear it.” The king walked back to his horse, gesturing to a few guards to follow him.

Laughter sounded from behind Cas, and he turned to find a hunter with his dagger poised over the Ruined's other hand. The Ruined had his eyes squeezed shut as he waited to lose another finger.

“Stop!” Cas yelled. The hunter jumped away, almost losing hold of the dagger. “He's had enough.”

Every guard focused on something behind him, and Cas glanced over his shoulder to see his father atop his horse, watching him.

“You want him alive, correct?” Cas asked.

“I do, for now. You can handle his transport to the cell with the guards, since you're confident he's weak enough.”

“I'd be happy to,” Cas said. His father gave Cas a look that wasn't exactly disapproval, but maybe wasn't supportive either. He turned his horse toward the castle. Three guards followed him.

“How did you transport him to Lera?” Cas asked the nearest hunter.

“Wagon,” the hunter said, pointing into the darkness. “It's not far that way.”

“Put him in it and bring him to the castle. I assume he's going to the cells on the south lawn?” He doubted his father would let any Ruined step one foot inside the castle.

A guard nodded. “Those are our orders.”

“I'll meet you there.” Cas mounted his horse, and Galo and a few other guards rode with him back to the castle grounds. He left his horse at the gate and walked in the dark to the south lawn. Outdoor and sporting events were often held there, but there was a small underground prison at the far end of the property. It was used to house the more dangerous prisoners, the ones they didn't want sleeping beneath the castle.

The hunters brought the wagon straight onto the south lawn, and one of them had to practically hold the Ruined up as they pulled him out.

Galo grabbed the handle of the door in the ground and opened it. He hopped in first, and Cas followed him down the stairway into the underground cells. It was pitch-black, but the narrow space filled with light as Galo lit the first lantern.

There were five cells in a row to Cas's left, every one of them empty. A walkway ran between the cells and the wall, and two chairs sat at either end of the room, for the guards.

Several guards descended the stairs, and Cas moved to the far end of the area as the hunters dragged the Ruined down the steps. They thrust him into the first cell, not even the slightest bit gently. He hit the ground on his hands and knees, and Cas studied his dirty left hand, missing its pinkie finger.

“Can someone please bring something to clean his wound?” Cas asked. “And bandages?”

A hunter gave him a confused look.

“I don't know how long my father wants him alive,” Cas said. “Do you want him to die of an infection?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” a guard said, turning away.

“You can go,” Cas said to the four hunters crowding around the cell. “Thank you.”

They disappeared up the stairs, leaving just Galo and three other guards. Cas stepped to the open door of the cell, leaning against it.

“Perhaps we should close the door, Your Highness,” a guard said.

“After his wound is cleaned.” He held out his hand. “May I have a sword, though?”

A guard withdrew his blade from his belt and offered it to Cas. He took it and turned back to the Ruined. The Ruined straightened, scooting back to lean against the end of the small bed in the corner. One of his eyes was starting to swell shut, and he lifted his head to meet Cas's gaze.

“What's your name?” Cas asked.

The Ruined didn't reply.

“I'm Casimir. Prince of Lera.” He waited for the Ruined to offer his name, but he remained silent. “How old are you?”

“A hundred and two.” The Ruined smirked. “I've learned how to live forever and keep my good looks.”

“Really?” Cas asked, feigning surprise. “My father would love to talk to you about that.”

A snort came from one of the guards behind him, and the Ruined stared at Cas as if he wasn't sure if that was a joke.

“A name?” Cas asked again. “Just a first name, so I know what to call you.”

“You can call me Ruined,” he said, leaning his head against the bed. “I'm not ashamed of it.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and the guard who'd left reappeared with a bucket of water, a clean cloth, bandages, and a small silver tin. The guard hesitated, like he didn't want to enter the cell, and Galo held his hands out for the items.

“I'll do it.” He grabbed everything from the guard and walked past Cas into the cell, placing the bucket and tin on the ground. He dipped the cloth in the water. “Hold out your hand.”

The Ruined hesitated, peering at his bloodied fingers.

“It's going to hurt, but I'm not going to make it worse on purpose,” Galo said.

The Ruined slowly put his hand out in front of him. He winced as Galo began wiping it down.

“This is berol root,” Galo said as he scooped some of the black paste out of the tin with the cloth. “It will help the wound close without getting infected.” He gently applied it over the stump where the Ruined's pinkie finger used to be.

“We wouldn't want me getting an infection before you kill me,” the Ruined said through clenched teeth.

“If you tell my father what he needs to know, maybe we can come up with a way to spare your life,” Cas said.

The Ruined let out a hollow laugh. “Like keeping me prisoner for the rest of my life? No thank you.”

He wasn't wrong, so Cas said nothing. His father would never just release one of the Ruined, even if he'd done nothing wrong.

He rubbed a hand across his forehead, the full weight of those
words settling in.
Even if he'd done nothing wrong.

Galo wrapped the Ruined's hand in the bandage and stood, grabbing the remaining supplies. Cas stepped back and a guard closed the cell door.