A Dream of Mortals

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

Godfrey raced with the others through the nighttime streets of Volusia, moving as quickly as he could, clinging to the walls and hiding in the shadows so as not to be seen. He struggled to catch his breath, sweat pouring down his neck. They had not stopped running since they’d escaped from prison, aiming for the gates at the far end of the city, and finally getting close. He was amazed he hadn’t collapsed yet, especially after the harrowing night he’d had, and amazed that the others all kept up: he had never known that Akorth and Fulton could move that quickly. Amazing, he thought, what fear could do to you.

They all burst back out onto the cobblestone streets, Merek and Ario out in front, the fastest of the bunch, and Godfrey admired them as they went, in awe at how well they had handled themselves back there. Godfrey had not done so bad himself, he knew, but if it weren’t for them both, they would all be dead right now. In some unlikely way, he realized, he had assembled the best team possible for this situation. All, except for Akorth and Fulton. Yet even they, Godfrey knew, had their unique talents, and he knew great things would come of them yet—even if in the most unlikely of times and ways.

As Godfrey ran through the streets, he noticed the piles of corpses, Darius’s men, piled high against the walls, like dogs, left to rot in the desert heat. A fresh wave of anger and remorse washed over him. He could not help but feel responsible for all of their lives; after all, it was he who had led them inside these walls, all because he had naïvely trusted in the Finians. He vowed to never be naïve again.

Gasping, Godfrey bumped into Merek and Ario as they came to sudden stop behind a corner. He looked out, and his heart leapt to see, before them, the city gates, unguarded at this late-night hour. This was their chance.

They all prepared to move, when Godfrey was suddenly overcome by a thought, and he held out his palm and stopped them.

Merek and Ario, breathing hard, turned and looked to him as if he were crazy.

“Now is our chance!” Merek cried out. “Are you mad?”

“What are you doing?” hissed Ario. “We are but feet away from freedom!”

Godfrey could not help himself. He knew this was their chance and he knew he should flee with the others. That would be the rational, the disciplined thing to do.

But Godfrey had never been disciplined—and had never been rational. He had led a life ruled by his passions—and now was not about to be an exception.

Godfrey turned and surveyed the quiet city of Volusia, and felt a fresh desire for vengeance. In the distance, towering over the city buildings, he saw the golden palace of the Finians. He looked out and saw all the dead corpses of his friends, and it did not feel just to him that these Finians should get away with it. A wrong had been done that had to be set right.

Godfrey knew this was one of those moments of his life. He could do as he always did—take the easy way out—or he could do the honorable thing: take vengeance for the deaths of his friends. For those who had depended on him. Godfrey knew that would be the hard route, the route most likely to get him killed.

But for the first time in Godfrey’s life, he no longer cared. For the first time he could remember, he understood how his father felt, and his father before him—there was more to life than safety. There was honor. And honor came with a price.

“I don’t know about you,” Godfrey said to the others, examining the golden palace, “but it doesn’t sit right with me. Those Finians are sleeping peacefully through the night. Our brothers and sisters are dead.”

They all turned, still catching their breath, sweating, and followed Godfrey’s gaze to the golden palace, and he could see the same look slowly overcoming them.

“So what are you saying?” Akorth asked. “That we turn back around?”

Godfrey smiled.

“We’ve done stupider things,” he said. “It seems awfully quiet here. I say we shake things up a bit.”

Merek smiled wide, hands on his hips.

“You know, Godfrey,” he said, “I think I’m starting to like you.”

Godfrey smiled back.

“Is that a yes?” he asked.

Merek smiled wider, turned and took his first step back toward the city.

“I’ll take vengeance over freedom any day.”

Godfrey raced with the others through the huge, open-air golden archway leading to the Finians’ palace, entering the palace without a hitch. At first Godfrey was surprised that there were no guards posted outside it—but then he realized that it made sense. They had no one to fear. The Finians ran the city, and no one in this city would be foolish enough to dare attack them. It was fear of them that kept everyone away. The highest form of power, Godfrey knew, was when you did not need any guards at all.

Godfrey ran right through the archway and into the palace, his bare feet cool on the marble floors, and as they all headed deeper into the massive parlor, he began to wonder which way to go. He spotted a massive golden statue and fountain, and behind it, a golden staircase, twisting up to the upper levels. Godfrey knew at once that that was where they had to go; he figured the Finians would be sleeping on the upper levels.

He ran with the others into the staircase, his bare feet cushioned on the red carpet, and they took the stairs three at a time, twisting up, higher and higher, past landing after landing, until finally they arrived at a floor lined with gold, the walls lined with gold. Godfrey, sprinting, was surprised to find a guard up here, dozing off, his back to them, clearly not expecting anyone to attack.

They all stopped, caught off guard, as the guard turned, alerted to their presence. Before he could cry out, Merek stepped forward and quickly cut his throat with his dagger, and Ario ran up behind the guard and covered his mouth so that he would not make a sound. They worked well together: the guard dropped down to his feet, silently, dead.

They all continued running down the hall, until they came to the first large doorway, made of gold. Godfrey led the way as the group burst in, ready to kill whatever Finian they found.

But as they entered the dim chamber, lit only by torches, Godfrey stopped short, shocked by what he saw.

It was a treasury. The room was filled with jewels and treasures of every kind imaginable. Godfrey stopped and started in. Godfrey was used to seeing gold in his father’s court—but he had never seen anything like this. The amount of wealth here, nearly piled to the ceiling, was staggering. Even one of the necklaces he saw before him, draped with diamonds and rubies, could bankroll an army.

Merek, Ario, Akorth, and Fulton rushed in and began to gather them, filling their hands and pockets with precious trinkets, until finally Godfrey ran over and stopped them.

“Our time is short here,” he said. “Would you rather have jewels or would you rather have vengeance?”

They all stopped, understanding, carried away by their greed, and turned and followed him, letting the rest of it go.

Godfrey, followed by the others, turned and ran down the hall until he came to another arched, golden door, smaller than the last. This time he tried the handle and it was locked.

He put his shoulder into it, and Merek and Ario joined him, but it would not give.

Akorth and Fulton rushed forward and joined them, throwing their shoulders and their weight into it.

They all rammed it together, and on the third try, it smashed open, breaking into bits.

“Finally,” Akorth said, “I’m good for something.”

Godfrey was the first person in and as he entered, he saw the Finian leader, Fitus, the man who had betrayed him, sit up in a luxurious bed of silk sheets. He looked like a startled child, with his pale face and big shock of red hair, face covered in freckles.

“How are you alive?” Fitus called out, in shock, reaching out for a gold-hilted dagger beside his bed.

Godfrey leapt forward, landed on his arm, and pinned it down, while at the same time Akorth and Fulton leapt on him, holding him down, too. Ario pried the blade from the man’s hand, while Merek punched him in his solar plexus.

Ario held the dagger to Fitus’s throat.

“You killed our friends,” Godfrey said.

Fitus, terror in his eyes, began to quiver.

“I did what I had to do,” he said. “Your friends were slaves—they were worthless anyway.”

Ario looked at Godfrey, who nodded back his approval, and in one quick motion he sliced the man’s throat.

“None of us are worthless,” Ario said.

Fitus gasped, eyes bulging wide, then finally he lay still, dead, his blood staining the sheets—and Godfrey took the dagger and plunged it into his heart.

“That was for Darius,” Godfrey said.

Godfrey heard the distant shout of a guard, and he turned to the others.

“Let’s go!” he said. “Now!”

As one, they all burst out of the room and ran back down the hall, almost reaching the staircase when Merek stopped and yelled: “Wait!”

He stood there and looked back down the hall, toward the room with the jewels.

“We’re going to need to buy our way out of here,” he said.

They all had that look in their eyes, a look of greed, and none of them could resist. Vengeance was done—now it was time for loot. Godfrey, too, could not resist.

They all turned back and each of them stuffed their shirts and pockets with as many jewels as they could carry. Godfrey got a sapphire and ruby bracelet, a golden pen, a sack of gold coins, and a handful of diamond necklaces. He grabbed more and more, feeling more and more weighted down, and realizing that this would be enough wealth to bankroll his own army. To take vengeance. To do anything he wanted.

When they all had their fill, they turned around and prepared to go—only to find that their exit was blocked.

A dozen Finian soldiers stood at the door, and before them there stood a single Finian woman, with bright red hair and piercing white eyes, calmly watching them all. She stared at them, an amused smile on her face. Godfrey wondered how long she’d been there.

“Going somewhere?” she asked.