The audience was scheduled for the following morning.
Zirinos spent the night in a modest inn on the outskirts of the City of the End. The room smelled of mildew and burnt wax. Enyo slept on the windowsill, curled up on herself, her black scales shining in the moonlight. Zirinos did not sleep. He sat on the bed, his back against the wall, his eyes open in the dark. The sword at his waist shone with a red, pulsing light.
He thought of Mira.
Her curly hair. Her drawings of stick figures with long legs. The way she laughed when he told her stories. The first time she called him hero.
The memory hurt. But the pain was useful. Pain kept focus.
You're going to die, Lindériu, he thought. Not because you deserve it. Because I need it.
His head began to hurt.
It was not an ordinary pain. It was a knife entering his skull, twisting, tearing the membranes of his brain. Zirinos clenched his jaw. His teeth ground together. His right hand gripped the sheet so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
The masked one's voice came from inside.
Zirinos...
"No," whispered Zirinos, his eyes closed. "Not now."
I destroyed the second sun to remind you who's in charge. Haven't you learned yet?
"I learned." His voice trembled. Sweat ran down his forehead. "I learned. Now shut up."
You're thinking of asking for a judgment. Lindériu. The saint. Good idea. Bad execution. You will likely fail.
"I won't."
You will. Because you're weak. Because you care. Because Mira...
"Shut up!"
Zirinos screamed. The sound echoed in the empty room. Enyo woke up, frightened, and squeaked. He did not hear her.
The pain passed. The voice fell silent. Only the silence remained, and the ragged breathing, and the cold sweat on his neck.
He's going to kill me, he thought. One of these days, he'll succeed.
But not today.
Today, he had a judgment to win.
---
The throne room was full when Zirinos entered.
The nobles of the seven houses occupied the wooden benches arranged in a semicircle. The colors of the families mixed: blue and silver of the Lunos, blue and purple of the Eladir, the black octopus of the Graylor, the hammer and anvil of the Mercius. In the center, the ivory throne. And on the throne, the Pope.
The white and gold robes dragged on the stone floor. His face, old and tired, showed no emotion. Only his eyes – deep, ancient – swept the assembly with a slowness that seemed to weigh every soul.
Lindériu Derassi stood by the wall, his arms crossed, his sword at his waist. The blue and gold armor shone in the faint candlelight. His tired face kept the calm expression of one who had already seen the worst.
Zirinos walked to the center of the room. He knelt. His knees hit the stone floor with a dry sound.
"Your Holiness," he said, his voice loud, firm. "I come to ask for justice."
The Pope inclined his head.
"Justice for what?"
"For the death of Mira Féris. Daughter of Baron Ander Féris. Killed by dogs. Dogs trained by a man who is here present."
The nobles murmured. Lindériu frowned.
"Trained by whom?" asked the Pope.
Zirinos raised his head. His dry eyes fixed on Lindériu.
"By him." He pointed. "Lindériu Derassi. The holy warrior of Aryster. The man who threw me into hell. The man who now wants to destroy Endomyar."
Silence fell over the room. Lindériu opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again.
"Lies," he said, his voice calm but tense. "I had nothing to do with Mira's death. I didn't even know the girl."
"You did." Zirinos stood up. His eyes did not waver. "You knew because you saw her at the Decatry docks. You knew because Baron Ander spoke of you. You knew because you planned everything, motherfucker!"
"Proof," intervened the Pope. "Do you have proof?"
"I do." Zirinos took a rolled parchment from his pocket. He handed it to a servant, who took it to the Pope. "A letter. Written in Lindériu's own hand. Sent to a servant of his in Decatry. Where he orders the dogs to be released on the baron's property while Mira's playing."
The Pope read the letter in silence.
"The handwriting..." he began.
"It is identical to Lindériu's." Zirinos did not let him finish. "I have a scribe who can compare it. I also have a witness. A servant from the Aryster castle who saw Lindériu training the dogs in his homeland years ago."
"Lies," repeated Lindériu, his voice now less calm. "I trained no dogs. I wrote no letter. This is a trap. Just like with the Errén-"
"The guilty always say that," replied Zirinos, with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
The Pope looked at Lindériu. Then at Zirinos. Then at the nobles.
"Witness," he ordered. "Let him enter."
A thin man, with graying beard and humble clothes, entered the room. He knelt. His hands trembled.
"Your name," said the Pope.
"Elór, Your Holiness. Servant of the Aryster castle."
"Did you see Lindériu Derassi training dogs?"
"I did, Your Holiness. Black dogs. Large. He trained them to attack children."
Lindériu stepped forward.
"Lies! I don't know this man! Pope, this doesn't even make sense. I swear I have never seem this man or did the things you accuse me of."
"You do, Saint," replied Elór, without looking at him. "You spoke to me two weeks ago. You told me that the girl Mira was a nuisance. That you needed to eliminate her to weaken Baron Ander and, with him, Duke Andy and Zirinos. You knew fully well that by doing so, Zirinos would become fragile."
The murmurs grew. Andy, seated on the dais beside his daughters, looked at Lindériu with an expression that was not hatred – it was disappointment. A fake disappointment. AAnd it was disappointment bacause Lindériu was dumb enough to trust Zirinos.
"Duke," said the Pope. "What do you say?"
Andy took his time to answer.
"I say I don't know what happened. I say I trust Baron Ander. And I say that the girl Mira..." he paused, his voice faltering slightly – "was innocent."
"Then you do not oppose the judgment?"
"I do not oppose it."
Lindériu looked at Andy. His green eyes, once calm, now shone with a rage he could not hide.
"Duke," he said. "This is a trap. Zirinos is lying."
"Lies don't show evidence," replied Andy, without looking at him.
The Pope tapped his knuckles on the arm of the throne.
"The accused has the right to defense. Speak, Lindériu Derassi. Prove your innocence."
Lindériu took a deep breath. His hands, resting on his hips, trembled slightly.
"I cannot prove that I didn't do something I never did. That's a fallacy. The letter is fake. The witness is bought. Zirinos wants revenge because I threw him into hell."
"Hell," repeated the Pope. "Why did you throw him?"
"By order of King Arésyu. Because he raped Saint Sofia in a dream. Because he deserved it."
"I raped no one," interrupted Zirinos, his voice calm, cold, measured. "It was Treiza. The lord of lust. She made us share the same dream. I was not there of my own will. And you... you threw me into hell without judgment. Without proof. Only because the king ordered it."
"The king is the law."
"The king is dead. The second sun as well. Laws no longer matter."
Silence was total.
The Pope stood up. The white robes dragged on the floor.
"The judgment is closed," he announced. "Lindériu Derassi, you are found guilty of the death of Mira Féris. The penalty is death. By decapitation. Immediate."
Lindériu paled.
"Your Holiness..."
"There is no appeal. Guards, execute the sentence."
The guards advanced. Lindériu did not resist. He only looked at Zirinos with tired green eyes, where rage mixed with sadness.
"You will pay for this," he whispered.
"I already have," replied Zirinos. "Hell was my payment."
Lindériu was dragged out of the room.
Zirinos did not follow him. He did not need to see the head fall. He knew it would fall.
The Pope sat down again.
"The judgment is over. Leave."
The nobles stood up. Whispered voices filled the hall. Some looked at Zirinos with admiration. Others, with fear. Most, with indifference.
Zirinos stood in the center of the room, alone, until everyone had left.
Enyo, on his shoulder, squeaked.
"Let's go," he said. "The work is not finished."
---
In the palace courtyard, Zirinos found Ethan.
The purple-haired boy sat on a stone bench, beside Ana, Sara and Ariny. The three girls spoke softly, but fell silent when Zirinos approached. Andy leaned against a column, his arms crossed, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
"Zirinos," said Ethan, standing up. His smile was genuine, tired, but genuine. "You came."
"I came."
"The judgment..."
"It's over."
Ethan looked at him. His eyes, where curiosity mingled with fear, traced Zirinos's face – the pallor, the deep shadows under his eyes, the red gleam that seemed to dance in his pupils.
"You look different," he said.
"I've been to hell. It's normal."
"The egg?"
"It - no - She hatched."
Zirinos touched the creature's head. Enyo squeaked softly, as if greeting.
"She's beautiful," said Sara, approaching. Her smile was shy, hesitant.
"I know," replied Zirinos.
Ana said nothing. She only looked. The mark of Anorys shone on her chest, visible even above her tunic. Her brown, cold eyes fixed on Zirinos. Then, they looked away.
"Mira," said Ethan, after a long time. "The news... reached us today. The messenger from Baron Ander."
Zirinos did not answer.
"I'm sorry," Ethan continued, his voice low. "She liked you. She talked about you every day."
"I know."
"Are you going... are you going to the funeral?"
"The funeral already happened. The baron buried her beside her mother."
"Then..."
"Then I'm going to Lunos. The Endomyar tournament will take place. All the nobles are going. You too?"
Ethan hesitated.
"We're going. Andy said it was important. That it was the last time the nobles would meet before the war."
"Then we'll meet there."
Zirinos made to move away. Ethan touched his arm.
"Zirinos."
"Say it."
"I miss you."
Zirinos looked at him. His dry, empty eyes fixed on his.
"Me too," he lied.
Andy approached. The duke looked older than Zirinos remembered – deep shadows under his eyes, graying beard, tired eyes.
"Zirinos," he said, his voice neutral. "Mira... you were the one who saved her, that night. You were the one who protected her every day. Baron Ander will never forget."
"Neither will I," replied Zirinos.
"The fault is not yours."
"I know."
"You don't. But you will learn."
Andy squeezed his shoulder. His warm hand weighed. Then, he walked away.
Zirinos was left alone with Ethan.
"Shall we go?" asked Ethan.
"Let's go."
They walked side by side toward the stables. Enyo, on Zirinos's shoulder, slept. The first sun, pale and sad, illuminated the path.
The City of the End was left behind. Lunos, ahead.
The monster that came out of hell did not cry.
It only planned.
And the plan was almost complete.