Game of Pawns

Chapter 33

Given a preliminary tongue-lashing by the Queen of the Court and put under Paladin's strict observance during Zander's convalescence, Jun could do nothing but watch as the world around him moved against the design within his mind. Unable to sit beside Zander's bedside to utter apologizes for his abject behavior, Junius was forced to stand outside the guest room where physicians and healers from both human and fey lands bustled around. He stared at the care the mage received—a plethora of herbal tinctures, pills, salves, and other therapies. Bindings cinched Zander's ribs together, and there was a constant smear of creams across his face and chest where the worst damage had been done.

All the while, Grimhild stood at the foot or the side of the bed, murmuring words of comfort to Zan as he slipped in and out of unconsciousness. Jun crossed his arms and learned against the door frame to listen as she recounted the story told by Lord Ken'ichi and Lady Dorithie, but he couldn't help but feel that she was glossing over certain details. What did it mean that Aluxen had tricked the other lords and ladies? What did Dorithie have to give up to become a Game master? Whenever he tried to ask the woman about it, she would tell him that it wasn't the time. Junius could understand the hesitation, especially after what had happened. The reactions of everyone around him, even the tentative movements of the servants, was understandable. Sad, but he wouldn't judge them for it.

After all, he'd done something that even he didn't fully grasp.

The worst part of nearly killing his half-brother was that there was no one to explain what had happened to tempt him so far. What it had felt like. How everything unfolded in his point of view. Most of the fight had seemed like a dream, where he was floating somewhere apart from his body as if something else controlled it. Jun wanted to tell his side, but no one cared enough to listen. He was uninjured. And guilty of opening the cell door.

Junius listened as the news Grim was telling Zan—reports from scouts about Summoners movements and whatnot—started to fade as the two of them drifted towards silence. There was a lot of pauses in their conversations, because Zan didn't have the strength to stay awake for too long. Loaded up with soporific drugs and enchantments to dull pain, the mage had limited time to speak. Yet, he insisted on being told about Summoner's actions. He was determined to heal and get on with his task.

The shard of Junius that had hungered to rob Zander of more than his duty hadn't stolen the mage's devotion to the cause. More than ever, Zan wanted to smite the vile woman that had driven a wedge between them. He even said loudly one evening for Jun's benefit that he hoped to repair their relationship; while the words were nice, Jun couldn't help but wonder if things would ever be the same again. That part of him that yearned for control, the one that Summoner had dredged up and unshackled, was still there.

Earlier, long before dawn, while staring at the ceiling of his borrowed quarters, Jun thought about the power. The Dragon—he'd decided that was a fitting nickname—had an immeasurable intensity. An uncontrollable yen for paramountcy. The way that energy had flowed through his veins had felt like sand that made up the dunes of the Malediction. Cool to the touch yet charged with an undeniable voracity. He breathed out, running a hand through his hair, then glanced past the ajar door towards Zander. The apology was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

Was it right to say he was sorry when he wasn't being entirely honest? Surely, it didn't make him any better if he accused Zan of something then went ahead and lied afterwards. Jun shook his head, beside himself.

What you desire, he will take away. You will never be anything more than a puppet, unless you take control of your fate, Summoner had told him.

The woman's words continued to travel through his bloodstream like alcohol. Shame he couldn't retch and be done with it. Striding by, Paladin gave him a harsh look that essayed just how little he cared for King these days. Like a hawk, the man watched every movement that Jun made, save for moments when Queen Kaede called him away to play at being a messenger. Glancing away, Junius pondered how long every blink would be scrutinized. There was nothing for him to do but eavesdrop.