“The King?” Sarah said with her mouth hanging open. “Why would we believe that?”

  Ryder continued to smile, not saying another word. Silence was his sword and a double-edged one at that. His heart raced as the fire’s coals crackled and popped.

  Sarah shifted her weight uncomfortably, eyeing Ryder. Anxiety crept around the fire while she avoided Ryder’s words. Her movements changed to a stride as she paced back and forth in front of him. Would she see him as a classmate? Or the murderer?

  Sarah stopped as the others murmured in the background. She likely couldn't run from the obvious anymore. How else would he know? Her tongue almost moved as her mouth hung, but she was not the first to speak. The blonde girl with spectacles as thick as a book took a step forward, grabbing the group's attention. “As much as I hate to admit it,” Rae said. “I think it could be true. Not saying it's all true, but that the King helped him in some way.”

  Ryder saw Sarah decompress as if she were relieved to be cut off by Rae. Ryder didn’t foresee the girl speaking first, but he did not mind. A small victory. The group turned to Rae with confused looks, but Sarah spoke next. “She’s right,” she said. “Nobody knows how Andrea’s Vice actually works. There are more people in this tower than people who know the secret.” Andrew opened his mouth to speak, but Sarah shut it down. “And don’t ask what it is. I won’t repeat it if you didn't hear.” He grumbled to himself.

  Rae took a few steps toward Ryder, grabbing the group's attention back. “Another thing was his imprisonment. Why wasn't he tried? The most vile criminal in the last hundred years wasn’t put before the people’s vote. Just sent straight to Fenrim. That never happens,” Rae said. “Unless he received the King’s pardon or the Council’s.”

  “It was the King’s,” Ryder said, interrupting with a chuckle. He was enjoying this, savoring every word as their eyes filled with clouds. “Why would the King defend me, though?” His words turned from soft to sour. The years of doubt and cruelty seemed to weigh on his words. “Hey, Flint, come take these chains off me, and all of you can fight me. Because that's what happened in the tower, right? I killed everyone. How is that even possible?”

  Flint went to speak, but Ryder’s eyes changed. They didn’t flash purple or shut down from exhaustion. Instead, they were fierce, but not quite open still. Just angry.

  “Flint shut the fuck up!” He snapped. “I need someone to explain it to me, right now! I need details! How could I do it? Just think! There are things in this tower that are much scarier than I!”

  Ryder stepped back, shoulders twisting, anticipating the first hit. But it never came. The group looked on with ghostly faces as the words rippled through them. Some shot glances at one another, while a few looked intently at the burnt pedals, rubbing their foreheads. The fear-gripped faces were nothing new to Ryder. No matter where he went in Artros, they followed, but this was different. They weren’t looking at his eyes. Something else scared them—the chance he was innocent.

  As his blood began to simmer, an unforeseen circumstance blindsided him. No one saw her coming. Not even Ryder’s eyes.

  “This is all a trick,” said a woman’s voice. One Ryder had only heard a few times. It came from the far side of the fallen tree that no one so much as looked at. Olivia stood tall. Two grins spread across her face. One from her lips. The other from her scar.

  “You can’t fool me. Us Beldovians can’t be fooled,” she said. “No need to pander to them.”

  Why now? Ryder thought. If they associate me with her, it's over. She is bad news.

  “What are you talking about?” he said.

  “C’mon, now we are in a black tower. We need to work together; lying serves no purpose. Just accept who you are. You are Beldovian.”

  Her last word made Ryder’s hair stand up like the bristled fur of the Red Wolf. Among all the things people called him, Beldovian was one of the few that made his vision blur. An ancestry that ran deep through his veins, making his decisions for him. A curse.

  “I’m not!” he yelled, furrowing his eyebrows. “Your Kingdom has never claimed me, and it has only hated me for some time now. I’ve only known Artros' walls.”

  Olivia walked forward from the tree; her knees wobbled as she tried to stand upright. Eventually, she got her footing and hobbled toward Ryder. Flint positioned himself between Olivia and Andrea, watching closely. Curiosity plastered over his face. But no one stopped her.

  “Oh,” she said with a giggle. “Artros doesn’t claim you. Especially not after your little killing spree. You only have Beldovia.”

  The scar made a deep shadow on the lower half of her jaw. Its unnatural straight line curved more and more with each step. The grin turned to a broad smile. “No need for everyone. Why not a one-on-one? Prisoner versus prisoner. If we don't have enough chains for the prisoners, then just get rid of one.”

  Flint’s broad shoulders shrugged as his smile glinted in the fire. The others continued to think, but Olivia’s presence turned their eyes back to Ryder’s dark ones.

  I definitely can’t kill her, he thought. And I can't make it look like we are cooperating. It's a checkmate, but how? Who is this woman? Did she plan this?

  Olivia kept her pace until she was only a few feet from Ryder. “I won’t fight you,” he said, their faces were only inches apart now. “At least I won’t fight to the death. And stop acting like we are the same.” Olivia's smile stretched as wide as her lips allowed. “How about you take us through every detail of that tower? How did all six of them die?"

  She paused. "But most importantly, how did they die after the White Gates?”

  Ryder’s eyes unfurrowed and went wide. Wider than they had ever gone before. The White Gates were a place of relief. A place where children knew they had passed the final floor and could exit the tower. No danger lay beyond those gates. Only victory and prestige waited beyond them.

  “Seems pretty simple to me. You waited till their guards were down and slaughtered them one by one,” she said, smiling. “I’ve trained with many killers who have escaped worse odds than yours. Killers who also weren’t as blessed.”

  Ryder went quiet. He tried to gather his thoughts, but something was off about this woman. Something that he couldn’t articulate. He racked his brain for a response, but nothing came to mind. Everything fell apart too quickly.

  Luckily, Sarah seemed to remember something and spoke. “You're a pretty good spy if you know all of that,” she said. “But why should we believe you over him? Just because your story is different doesn’t mean it is true.”

  “Yeah, I can’t say I trust you much more than him,” Connor chimed in. “You could be working together for all we know.”

  Ryder’s shoulders relaxed. He unknowingly tensed his body the entire time. Connor's words brought problems for another day, but his eyelids went back to their natural tired state. Olivia let out a sigh, and she walked back to her previous spot on the tree, feeling the scar on her face. “Whatever. Believe the murderer for all I care,” she mumbled.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Alright, everyone just needs to get some rest,” Sarah said. “We will watch in two-person shifts to make sure the fire stays lit, and the wolves don’t come back. Hopefully, the Captain will wake by the time everyone gets their sleep. After that, we shower and move to the next floor. Keep the prisoners separate and watch them closely, too.”

  The group chatted after the prisoners left, although it wasn’t as lighthearted as before. Ryder slowly retrieved his bag from the beast's jaws. Naturally, Flint chuckled as the dirt scratched the bottom of the bag. Ryder wanted to move his bag next to Andrea, but he moved it 20 feet away, keeping her to his left with the large beast to his right. He was sure to get dirty looks if he moved anywhere near her. Weary eyes watched his every move–fewer than before, however.

  The bed was thin and flimsy. It was made of cloth and wool with a little cushion padding. His body relaxed deep into the ground's grooves, decompressing as the remaining tension left his body while the petals crunched under his weight. A large part of him relaxed more in the towers than in the streets of Artros’s cities. Dress the boy in silver, put him in front of a crowd, and watch his movements stiffen, and his stuttering voice drown out any semblance of a word. Put him in a tower, however, and his movements become quick and calculated. No wasted movements. They treated him fairly. Most of the time, at least.

  Flint and Rae took the first watch as the others settled into bed. They positioned themselves in the middle of the ring of fire near the campfire, taking turns prodding the fire to keep it alive. Mace fell asleep instantly. The meal only made his body fall faster into his bed. Sarah tossed and turned, trying to get comfortable. Her eyes stared blankly into the night looming over her. If she were looking for answers, she didn’t find any. The twins sat to her left and right and had to fight over who slept where before lying down. Connor peeked quickly over to Sarah, but said nothing. His baggy eyes got the better of him.

  The last thing Ryder saw before his much-needed rest was a pair of eyes looking in his direction. Oliviva sat in her bed, but didn’t lie her back on the ground. She stared at Ryder on the opposite side of the ring of fire to Andrea’s right. Her smile kept its shape as his eyes slowly faded to black. Then, the goddess of dreams visited Ryder.

  The dream was a short one, only flashing a few scenes. Almost like he was using his gift. Buildings the likes of which he had never seen before muddied his brain. They were toys compared to the high buildings of Ingold. Their thick masonry walls were made of stone, and their windows were small circles. Tall trees lined the city streets, spreading their shade over the residential areas of the city. Their leaves were long and brown, resembling a sword’s sheath. The voices spoke an unfamiliar dialect as people walked the streets. Their skin tanned. Tanner than any in Ingold or Artros.

  Ryder could not move as he stood in the street and stared up at the tall trees, watching them shake slightly in the weak winds. His vision was slightly blurred as he looked toward the sun. A black flag caught his eye. A white scorpion was stitched to its cloth. Now that was something he had seen before. Beldovia.

  He woke in a pool of sweat, gasping for air. The heavy air made it harder to breathe, so it took a few extra breaths to get his wits. He must have been asleep for hours because Flint and Rae were tucked in their respective beds. Only Connor stood poking the fire. He noticed Ryder jut out from his sleep, but he didn’t stare for too long. His attention went back to the flames, nudging the coals with a stick.

  Ryder turned to his left, and Andrea still slept soundly. He ached all over his body from the rough exterior of the ground; his joints cracked and popped when he stood. Still better than the Fenrim, he thought.

  The two men locked eyes as Ryder cautiously approached the fire. “Why are you the only one watching?” Ryder asked.

  Connor looked back at the others, but returned to the fire. “Yeah, just giving everyone a few extra minutes of sleep. We already cleared the floor; nothing is going to come out.”

  Ryder forced out a laugh. Pleasantries weren’t his strong suit. It only made the air slightly awkward around the two. “Ah, you cleared 13 right. That's way more than most. You know the towers quite well. Sarah probably wanted the prisoners to be watched. The wolves were just an excuse.”

  Connor nodded.

  “Are you not scared of me?”

  Connor hesitated to answer, but eventually met Ryder's eyes before answering. “At first, I had my doubts, but after hearing about your gift, I’m less wary of you. You know, Sarah said most of us could kill you easily, and I see why. From what I gathered, all I have to do is attack you twice before you're one. And I like my chances.”

  Ryder’s laugh was genuine this time. So was his smile, like always. “At least some of you can think for yourselves. Though I can hold my own in a duel without my gift, so don’t get too ahead of yourself. It might take three swings with that sword of yours to fell me.”

  Connor grumbled a laugh. His hesitation still showed on his face, however. But that didn’t stop him from speaking freely.

  “You said we could ask anything, right?”

  Ryder turned toward the group and motioned at Sarah and Emily. “Yeah, but I’d prefer it not be about you know what. I think we have talked enough about that.”

  Connor followed his gaze and gave a nod of understanding. “Probably best. But I was going to ask about your towers. I heard you went to the towers more than class. I know a lot of the fighters like to do a couple of towers a year to graduate early. Gets them into private militias faster.”

  Ryder’s smile broadened. He never stuttered when discussing towers.

  “Guess.”

  “Emmm, 16.”

  Ryder laughed heartily. It echoed slightly off the valley walls. He quickly covered his mouth as Connor turned to the rest of the party. They still slept.

  “Do you know how many classes a tower is worth?”

  “One, of course.”

  “After my first year, I rarely went to class,” he said, trying not to gloat. “I enjoyed the warm academy beds. Also, to catch up with a few classmates.” The last sentence was a little softer than the others.

  “So Sarah wasn’t lying.”

  Ryder chuckled. “I’d assume she said I was in the towers a lot. I talked to her occasionally, but she was the King’s Scholar, so she kind of took it on herself to talk to me.”

  “Yeah, that sounds like her,” Connor said, looking back at her. “She took that role very seriously and worked hard.”

  “Can’t deny that,” Ryder said. The two sat for a little while in the silence, but the awkwardness was gone.

  “I remember you from the Academy,” Ryder said. “Although, more so Andrew.” Ryder felt a little anxiety creep back. Perhaps he talked a little too freely.

  Connor cocked his head back in disbelief. “Andrew?” he said. “He never mentioned you. What are you talking about?”

  Ryder fumbled over his words, trying to diffuse the situation. “N-No, we weren’t friends or anything.” His hands started to sweat. “I s-s-stole his uniform one time at the academy, and he was really mad. He never caught me, though.”

  Connor stood up quickly, taking his eyes off the fire, eyeing Ryder more intently than he had before. His lips opened, but words did not follow. A laugh that felt louder than the Red Wolf’s howl entered the air. Ryder’s body jumped back in surprise. He covered his mouth quickly, as Ryder had done before. And, again, no one woke.

  “That was you?” he whispered, whipping tears from his eyes. “We got in so much trouble for that. It was the day of a medal ceremony, and he had to walk up in his 4th year uniform. It was so tight on him I nearly died from laughter standing up there.”

  Ryder wasn’t sure if he was supposed to laugh. But he laughed anyway. “Um, yeah, it was me, sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

  “Why did you need it? Must have been a good reason to play an upperclassman as a fool.”

  “It was easier to walk around if people thought I was an upperclassman. If people wear the uniform, then they might not take a second look. It worked surprisingly well.”

  Connor looked away from the boy. He stayed quiet, but changed the subject back to earlier.

  “So if not 16 then how many?”

  “Over 20,” Ryder said, but he froze as the last syllable left his lips. His head straightened to look dead ahead. He looked wide awake as he looked straight past Connor–past the darkness. He saw something approaching from his left.

  Connor’s eyes widened as he tried to stifle his excitement. The god of combat often kept company with powerful people. “Over 20! That’s way more than even the–”

  “The Princess."

  Ryder kept his posture, flicking his eyes quickly to his left and making sure they didn't linger long. The Princess stood with arms folded under her breasts, and she didn't look pleased to see him. But her Royal Highness was finally awake.