34: Destroyer of Worlds

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Delilah followed a servant through the winding passages, a thick black cloak concealing her outfit. Her heart pounded in time with her feet as she was led through a bewildering labyrinth of tunnels: some too low for her head, some so narrow she had to turn sideways, some with floors so rocky she had to concentrate on not tripping over something. Irkalla was a work in progress, and likely would be for many years to come.

But not if Dante managed to free his people through this war. She'd seen the commoners: their gaunt white faces, hollow eyes, starved for sun and wind and the sight of the sky. They managed to trade coal and metal for food and lumber from the Uplanders, so they could survive... But this wasn't living, not for those who had once been called Sky Sentinels.

Delilah was both pleased and puzzled by her outfit. She didn't know whether to feel excited or terrified as the passage finally opened up to reveal an antechamber where Hawk and Dante were already waiting.

Hawk was in his usual leather guard uniform, but Dante...

Black armour coated him from head to toe. He wore his helmet, too - but the Opals had been removed.

Night Bringer.

Destroyer of worlds.

Delilah bowed, ignoring Hawk's choked laugh. "Your Highness."

"Rise, Princess."

She straightened up stiffly. Stone steps led up to the balcony - the huge amphitheatre was on the other side of the wall, and she could already hear what sounded like thousands of people. A crowd had arrived to listen to their king. Those who hadn't turned up or hadn't been able to fit inside would be told by others. Whatever it was Dante was going to say... everyone in Irkalla would know the words before midnight.

Anxiety gripped her throat.

"Nervous?" Hawk sneered.

"One rule of being a good monarch," Dante murmured, gazing at the stairwell but making no move towards it. "Be good at public speaking. And... be convincing. So they'll believe you even if you lie."

"Thanks," she muttered.

Dante listened carefully to the babble of noise, only a little muffled by the wall. People were obviously impatiently waiting to see their king - their saviour.

"Right," he said finally. "They've waited long enough. I think the tension is good and thick in the air, now, don't you, Hawk?"

Hawk raised his eyebrows. "I could cut through it with a knife."

Dante signalled for Hawk to be on his right, while Delilah flanked him on the left.

A message. What kind of message would this send?

They ascended the stairs together. Delilah couldn't help but notice Hawk flinging her dirty looks, and wondered if he was jealous of her closeness to his king - or perhaps jealous of the power she'd been born into. Hawk had had to claw his way up.

They emerged onto the balcony and the crowd started to roar. The Royal Balcony was in the prime position: high up on one end of the oval amphitheatre, easy to see from all angles. Directly below them was the larger box that housed Dante's court, along with Kaya and Nell.

Delilah sucked in deep breaths as they stepped up to the balustrade. The sea of upturned faces blurred before her eyes. The sounds the crowd was making - the cheers and shouting - seemed to buoy her heart up. One day she would stand like this above her own people, and they would adore her.

But this would do for now.

Dante raised a hand and they fell silent instantly. Who wouldn't, when the Night Bringer stood before them in full battle regalia, an ancient, ornate sword hanging from his belt?

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