The Ruin of Kings by Jenn Lyons

Author:Jenn Lyons
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pan Macmillan

49: CRITICAL LESSONS

(Kihrin’s story)

When I woke, I lay facedown—drooling onto the black rock floor of the training room. I ached all over. My arms, my neck, my shoulders, my thighs, and my calves. Every part of me felt like I was back in the rowing galley of The Misery.

I groaned and raised my head. Doc sat a small distance away. He’d thrown out the tea and replaced it with a bottle of wine, and he had poured a cup for himself. He was staring at my borrowed harp, although given the unfocused gaze on his face, he wasn’t seeing the harp at all.

When I made a sound, Doc looked over, saw me, and stood up. He didn’t look happy.

“That was pathetic,” Doc said as he walked over. He didn’t offer me a hand up. “How many times did you die? Three dozen? Four? What was Darzin teaching you? The most efficient way to impale yourself on your enemy’s sword?”

I almost defended Darzin, but I stopped myself in time. My so-called father had only trained me in fighting so he’d have an excuse to punish my lack of progress. “You drugged me. Let’s talk about the fact that you drugged me!”

“I told you I wouldn’t go easy on you.”

I took a deep breath and bit back on the impulse to start shouting. The drugging wasn’t the important part, anyway. “I’m familiar with riscoria weed. It doesn’t cause visions like that. How did you do that?”

He seemed pleased I’d noticed, and he tapped the green tsali stone around his neck. It was the same stone the Manol vané had been wearing, the one who’d taunted and killed me in the vision.

The exact same stone.

“Chainbreaker,” he said.

I blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”

Doc chuckled at my confusion. “You wear the Stone of Shackles. I wear its brother, Chainbreaker. You and I are part of a very small and exclusive club with only eight members in the whole world.”

I traced the stone around my neck. “Eight? There are eight of these?”

“Yes. Each with its own powers, gifts, and curses.” He pursed his lips. “So let’s talk about your training.”

“No. I want to talk about the Stone of Shackles and Chainbreaker. I want to talk about that illusion you put in my mind.”

Doc sighed and rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. Suddenly, he wasn’t there anymore.

The tip of his sword pricked the skin of my neck so quickly I’m not sure I saw him move as more than a faint blur. “You want real? This is real, young man.” A small drop of red welled up on my collarbone, just above the Stone of Shackles, which burned ice-cold in case there was any doubt of my teacher’s earnestness. “What is real is that you have entered a world that hates you and is only too glad to leave your decaying corpse slapped across the garbage heaps of life. What is real is that you have neither the training nor the skill you require to survive until your next birthday.

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