“What are you suggesting?”
“Sinking the ship will accomplish two important tasks. First, it will cast the final keystone into the depths of the ocean where it will never be found, and second it will kill Princess Lacy, forever preventing her from opening the box. Once the ship is destroyed, Tasia will go to Fellenden and kill Prince Torin, her brother. With the appointed bloodline extinguished, the keystone will remain forever out of reach and the world will be safe from the threat of the Nether Gate.”
Alexander schooled his breathing, his blood running like ice through his veins. He willed the look of horror from his face and slowly shook his head, steadily holding Bragador’s gaze.
“Your plan is sound, as far as it goes, but I beg you not to go through with it. Such action is a violation of everything I hold dear. Both Lacy and Torin are victims in all of this. We can’t kill them for an accident of their birth.”
“Your view of history is short and limited,” Bragador said. “I suppose that’s to be expected, given your age and probable lifespan, but the threat you’ve described, and that I’ve come to believe is very real, is so great that it literally threatens the entire future. Countless generations going forward will suffer or simply never exist if we fail. How can we not consider every option available to us? What are two lives when weighed against every single life that will ever come after this moment?”
“They’re exactly that, two lives, each precious beyond measure in their own right, but there’s more to this than just their lives. The Old Law is the key to creating a future worth having and it must have a champion. How can I stand for the Old Law if I’m willing to violate it in the most heinous way possible when circumstances become difficult?”
“What good will the Old Law do the future if there isn’t one? I realize this is a hard choice, Alexander, but sometimes leaders must make hard choices.”
Alexander looked down, slowly shaking his head, almost in denial, as a tear slipped down his cheek. “Please don’t do this, Bragador. Please, let me find another way,” he whispered.
“And if you fail?”
He looked up at her, his face set in a mask of misery and anguish as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ve set other plans in motion, plans to destroy the complex where the Nether Gate is housed. Captain Wyatt is still in pursuit of the enemy ship-he won’t give up until he succeeds …”
“Or dies trying,” Bragador said. “Tasia spoke highly of him. You’ve surrounded yourself with good people, but they may not be enough and my plan can only work until the box is opened. After that, we’re all lost.”
“Perhaps, but have you considered the shade? You can be sure he’s watching that ship; he’s probably on board. If you send Tasia to sink it, he’ll try to stop her. Can she best Aedan? Also, Phane will have to persuade Lacy to open the box of her own free will. Before that happens, I’ll make sure she understands the stakes. I trust she’ll do the right thing when the time comes.”
“You would place the fate of the world in the hands of one young woman?”
“I would. I’ve seen the goodness in her.”
“Your faith is touching, though not terribly persuasive. As for the shade, I can always send several dragons.”
“And what if he could retrieve the box from the depths of the ocean?”
“Hence my plan to end the line of Fellenden as well. Their blood is the key, and they’re far more vulnerable than the box itself.”
“Bragador, I’m asking you not to do this, begging you not to do this. Please.”
“The plan is sound.”
“Yes, and it’s also wrong!”
She regarded Alexander silently, frowning and shaking her head as he held her gaze.
“You would risk so much for your principles?”
“Yes!” he whispered.
“I wonder how many other humans would place such value on the lives of two people they don’t even know.”
Chloe appeared between them in a ball of light.
“Lady Bragador, that is precisely why Alexander is the right person to bear the Sovereign Stone. I know his heart, he cannot sanction what you suggest.”
“Which is why I’m offering to do it for him and for the world.”
“Don’t you see, if you do this, My Love will have to stop you, he will have to become your enemy. Please don’t put him in that position. He loves your daughter as surely as he loves me and he counts you as his friend, but he has sworn to protect the Old Law and I know that oath to be true.”
“I count you as a friend as well, Alexander. Would you really oppose me in this?”
“What choice would I have?”
“You are wounded and surrounded by dragons, what hope would you have against me?”
Alexander shook his head sadly. “None,” he whispered.
“And yet you would still oppose me?”
“Yes.”
“You value your principles more than even your own life?”
“Yes.”
Bragador stood and started pacing, shaking her head and muttering curses under her breath. She stopped and faced Alexander, shaking her head in frustration. “I will never understand you, but I will respect your wishes in this matter. I only hope you aren’t dooming the world.”
Chapter 32
“They’re still following us,” Anatoly said, squinting through the brightness of sunlight on snow.
They were half a day away from the town where they hoped to procure snowbell for Magda and they were being followed by a pack of snow wolves, beautiful creatures in thick white fur coats that both protected them from the frigid temperatures and helped them blend into their surroundings. The wolves had picked up their trail a few hours after they’d left the cave and were pursuing, but not as quickly as they could have. Abigail wondered if they were holding back until nightfall and hoped that she and Anatoly would reach the relative safety of the town before then.
“Not much we can do about it except press on,” Abigail said.
“Agreed.”
The snow was deep and difficult to travel through. The rough, rugged terrain forced them to backtrack occasionally to find a navigable path over or around a number of crevasses and ridges. By the time they caught their first glimpse of the smoke from cook fires in town, they were nearing exhaustion. Fortunately, the wolves were still distant enough to pose no immediate threat.
The sun was just setting when they came to one of the northern trading roads leading to the town and stepped onto the hard-packed snow. As late in the day as it was, they encountered no traffic until they entered the town itself. The town wasn’t walled, but there was a high berm of snow surrounding it, probably more the result of removing the snow from the streets than from an attempt to build a defensive perimeter.
Anatoly had taken Alexander’s advice and donned a breastplate emblazoned with Zuhl’s crest and marked with emblems of rank. He strode into the village with Abigail a step behind and to the left, his battle axe resting on his shoulder and an expression of disdain on his face. The market was nearly deserted when they arrived, all of the shops were closed and the vendor carts tarped over for the night, their owners cooking dinner and preparing for bed as the light rapidly faded and the temperature fell.
“There’s the apothecary,” Anatoly said, motioning to the building in the corner of the marketplace with his chin. “Either we wait ’til dark and break in, or we find an inn and hope we don’t arouse enough suspicion to attract the city guard, then come back tomorrow and buy what we need.”
“We’ll wait until tomorrow,” Abigail said. “I can’t justify stealing from the apothecary … she’s not our enemy, she’s just a shopkeeper trying to make a living. Besides, we need some rest before we head back.”
“Fair enough, looks like the inn is down there.”
All eyes turned toward them when they entered the ale hall that served as the main room for the inn. The building was constructed of stone, as were most buildings on the Isle of Zuhl. The stone tables and benches of the ale hall were coarsely chiseled without any artistry, but functional nonetheless.