Thrust into palace life and brutal royal intrigue, two young brothers must find a bell in order to survive.
The right bell. The silver bell. Somewhere in this huge, sprawling palace.
Pohut’s younger brother was trembling.
“It’s all right, Innel,” Pohut whispered to him, though he wasn’t at all certain that it was. Why were they here, waiting for an audience with the king? What was expected of them?
“Now,” came the sharp voice of the king’s pinched-faced seneschal, who pushed the two boys through an opening door.
Inside the room, Pohut struggled not to be distracted by the bright maps on the walls. Before him was the king of the empire, sitting behind a large desk, staring directly at them. In the months they’d lived in the palace with their mother and little sister Cahlen, this was the first time they had been in the monarch’s presence.
Innel was already dropping to his knees, grabbing Pohut’s hand to tug him down. Pohut went down fast, too fast, wincing at the pain as his knees hit the floor. Both boys touched their foreheads to the wood at the same time.READ MORE
“You may stand,” said the seneschal. When they did not move, he said their names, and then again. This time it was Pohut who drew Innel to his feet.
“Come closer,” said the king.
He seemed so large, the king. Which made sense, because the Arunkel empire was huge. Pohut knew how huge, too, because before his father had become a general, he had been a mapmaker.
The brothers shuffled forward hesitantly, stopping when the seneschal held up a hand.
Restarn esse Arunkel, Pohut mouthed silently. Restarn, He Who is the Empire.
The door shut behind them. The sound echoed.COLLAPSE