Heirs to a Nothing Throne

Chapter 9

For the next two days, none of us could focus on anything. It's a wonder the Qaddej didn't realize something was up, we felt so obviously excited.

Anxiety also weighed me down. The possibility of success and the fear of failure were equals in my mind. As each day went by, my anticipation and dread grew. To be honest, I was actually settling into the lifestyle we were living. The thought was too ridiculous to ever say aloud, and I knew I ought to shoot for freedom over this monotonous living, but there really wasn't much terrible about it. We had good beds and good food. The rest of my time was spent with friends. I was around Jasmine all day, every day. Work was grueling, but not torturous.

I missed my family. I hated the abuse. But I also knew that living in the wilderness, the way we were on the beach, with Timore and his troops chasing us, very well may be worse. I was torn between wanting to leave and that odd feeling that I should stay, and it kept me up at night, twisting my stomach around itself. But really, I knew it would be better to fight and try to escape to a better life than live like this, spending our long lives without privacy or freedom. If allowed us our lives that long.

But finally, on the third day after our meeting with Verwarr, the door opened just before dinnertime.

In stepped Verwarr and Raven. Verwarr was wearing a black polo and jeans, and Raven wore jeans, a black tank top, and a jacket. Her hair was in a braid.

"You're royalty, you know. You should dress up a bit more." Jasmine grinned, wrapping her arms around Raven.

Raven smiled. "Timore isn't concerned with how we dress. Verwarr told him we preferred these to robes and dresses." Verwarr nodded and turned to us, his face all business.

"It's time to get out of here. We have to, and right now." He seemed shaken, a little out of his mind, even.

"You bet it's time," Angelique said, standing up. "Let's get out of this hellhole."

Verwarr nodded slowly. "You're right, it is a hellhole. But you don't understand the worst of it."

My eyebrows rose. "The worst?"

He nodded, and Raven took his hand. He was shaking. "They're going to turn you all to Qaddej, as soon as I'm king. I don't know this for sure, but I'm almost certain."

There was a collective gasp. "Where'd you hear that?" Andrey asked, crossing his arms and standing a little taller.

"You won't let that happen, right? You'll be king, there's no way you would!" Eva almost whimpered her words.

Verwarr shook his head. "You don't understand. When I'm king, it's not really me who's king; Timore just takes over my body, and my own consciousness is shut down. It'll look like me, but it will have the mind and morals of Timore."

A silence was allowed for the news to settle in. "Then the current Timore is really the same as the original?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes, and each body was made the same as me: the previous Timore having a child through a human."

"Who was the original, then?"

"I..." Verwarr sighed, running trembling fingers through his hair. "I don't know. I've asked, everyone either doesn't know or won't say. They were all made when he got here, whenever that was. The oldest Chevalier—those are the knight-like ones—that I spoke with was a few hundred years old."

There was a moment of silence, before Angelique said, "Well, then what's the holdup? We're still escaping right?"

He nodded, taking a deep breath. "You're right."