Ricko Daggerheart's Arc

Chapter 18 of 18

Boots hammered the hall outside. Ricko turned, the crown heavy in his hands, as the bedroom door burst open. Guards poured in with spears leveled. He counted six, then eight. Too many to fight. Kelli swung her spear up beside him. T'Zaro backed to the wall, knives out. Ricko's grip tightened. He had crossed the desert for this jewel. Now he would die beside the dead man he had come to rob. "This is it," Ricko said. He raised the sword he had taken on the stairs. The red jewel burned in his other hand. He thought of his pack, of Torin, of every mile that had led here. At least the old man died first. "Hold!" Jaina stepped between Ricko and the spears. She did not raise her voice. She did not need to. The blood on her hands was fresh, and the sultan lay face down behind her. The guards saw both. Their spears wavered. "The sultan is dead," she said. "I rule now. These two leave by my word. Any man who stops them answers to me." One guard pushed forward. Ricko knew the face. It was Rashid, the gate guard he had spared on the stairs. His armor was dented. His sword was half raised. He stared at Ricko, then at the crown in his hands, then at the dead sultan. His jaw worked. He had let this crew into the city once for a bribe. Now he stood between them and freedom again. "They stole the crown," Rashid said. "I gave it to them," Jaina answered. She met his eyes. "You served a man who burned villages. Serve me, and you live. Choose now." Rashid looked at Ricko a long moment. Ricko remembered the stairs. He remembered lowering his blade when he could have struck. Rashid remembered it too. He lowered his sword. "Stand down," he told the others. The spears dropped one by one. The way to the door opened. "Go," Jaina said. "Through the drains. Dawn is close." Ricko did not thank her. He had no words for a girl who gave away a crown like spare coin. He shoved the gold into his pack and ran. Kelli went first, spear low, leading through the halls she had mapped from memory. T'Zaro followed. No guard moved to stop them. Jaina's word ran ahead of them like a cold wind. They dropped into the drain at the old wall. The stone was slick and black. Water soaked Ricko's legs. Behind and above, the palace bells still rang, but no boots chased them now. Kelli found the grate they had cut on the way in. She kicked it loose. They crawled out into the dark beyond the walls. Their lizard mounts waited where Kazan had tied them, among the broken ground no patrol could cross. Ricko hauled himself into the saddle. The desert stretched flat and cold under the setting moon. He looked back once at the domes and arches of the palace, gold going gray in the first light. The man who killed his pack was dead inside it. The jewel was in his pack. He felt the hollow weight settle in his chest. "T'Zaro got what he wanted," Kelli said, riding up beside him. "The throne is Jaina's. And you have the stone." "T'Zaro wanted the jewel," Ricko said. He pulled the crown out and turned it in his hand. The red stone caught the dawn. "He can have it." He held it out to the panther. T'Zaro's green eyes narrowed. He took the crown, pried the jewel from its setting, and tossed the empty gold into the sand. "A fair price," he said. He slid the stone into his vest. "You held up your end, hyena. The crew's done. Ride where you like." He turned his mount toward the deep desert and did not look back. Ricko watched him go. He had sworn to steal the sultan's jewel for his dead pack. He had the gold, bent and empty, in his hands. He let it fall. The jewel had never been the thing. The old man was dead. That debt was paid, and it brought no warmth, only quiet. Kelli reached over and took his hand. Her spotted fur was the same as his. She was the last of her kind riding beside the last of his. "We could ride north," she said. "Past the waystations. Somewhere no one knows our faces." Ricko closed his fingers around hers. The sun broke over the dunes. He turned his lizard toward the open sand, away from the palace, away from the grave he had made of his enemy, and rode into a day that belonged to no sultan at all.