Amalthea's Arc

Chapter 4 of 9

The garden gave Amalthea her trust, but trust was not proof. She walked the mossy paths with Corvus that night, the armored hound padding between them. They spoke of small things. His voice was gentle, at odds with the dark veins on his face. At the far gate they stopped. "My father casts you out at dawn," she said taking Corvus hand for the first time. "He believes the prophecy. He believes you will kill me." Corvus nodded and spoke softly. "Then I have until dawn to change his mind.” At first light a guard summoned her. Her father wanted them both in the throne room. Amalthea went with Corvus at her side and the hound at her heel. King Thran waited on his high seat. Silver crown, silver in his dark hair, a fur cloak heavy on his shoulders. He was the man who had burned every book to keep her alive. He looked older than his years. His eyes went first to his daughter, then hardened on the shadow prince. "You brought the cursed thing to my hall," Thran said. He meant the hound. "And the cursed man beside it." "He is innocent, Father," Amalthea said. "The old ruler blamed him for crimes he did not commit.” "You have his word. I have a prophecy that promises your death." Thran gripped the arms of his seat. "I will not gamble my only child on a stranger's story." Amalthea stepped forward. She had no letter, no witness, no proof. Only the truth she had tested with her own hand. "I have no scroll to clear his name," she admitted. "But I have this." She laid her palm on the hound's head, and took Corvus’s hand in her other. The beast leaned into her, calm as a lamb. "His curse cannot spread. I touched the dark and it did not take me. If you doubt him, doubt the prophecy too." Corvus knelt on the stone. "King Thran, if I had a daughter, I would fear me also. I would bar my gate the same. You are not wrong to guard her." He lifted his veined face. "So do not take my word. There are those who read prophecies for a living. Let me fetch one before you cast any judgement onto me." Thran was quiet a long moment. His anger did not break, but it bent. He looked at his daughter's steady hand on the hound, and her other in Corvus’s hand. “You will not be cast out." The king pointed at Corvus. "You may go find a seer I give you a month to return with a seer." Amalthea let out a breath. She had won time, not freedom. Corvus rose beside her, spared the road but not the doubt. Now the prophecy itself had to be read, and no one in the hall knew what a true reading would say.