"Alright, I'll admit it, that one was a mistake. I was wrong, you were right. Does that make you happy?" the voice snapped irritably before the Prince could make a comment of his own.
He shook his head, still staring at the closed door. Right now he was not feeling up to an argument even though the voice seemed to be trying to bait him into one.
Up until the interview that had just ended, the list of potential advisors he had made had been spot on. There had been those who could not be found, but other than that everything had gone smoothly. Too smoothly, as the last interview had shown.
"No," he sighed, at last replying to its comment as he crossed the man's name off their list with a violence that made it clear that he wished to be able to do more. There were three names left to go, all three of the men waiting outside the door for him to call them in. At the moment he was unsure if he could manage after what he had just been through. All of the other interviews had lulled him into thinking that things were finally starting to look up. He had failed to anticipate that he would encounter an individual who would prove as irritating as the voice.
The man had been one of his father's advisors, that was how his name had ended up on the list, even though the Prince had not known him all that well. The Prince had assumed him to be competent, and he may have been, but he was also condescending and had spoken down to him more than once during the course of the interview. As far as the Prince could tell it was because the man had known him as a child assumed him to be unchanged. Either that or he was old and senile and failed to realize how his actions came across.
"Can you think of an excuse to tell them to come back tomorrow?" he asked the voice, hoping that its cynicism would for once be helpful to him. It was as frustrated as he was, so he hoped that it would be agreeable to calling things off for now.
Instead it made a derisive sound, "Still trying to run away?"
"Do you propose that I call one of them in when I can hardly think straight?"
"No, take a deep breath, wait and it will pass," it paused to think for a moment before continuing, "Anyway, after all you've been through it's natural to suspect the worst in everyone. Your father was too trusting, so at least you won't make the same mistakes."
The Prince had to struggle not to yell at it, "Do not speak of my father that way."
"What? We all make mistakes. That fool your father appointed was nothing compared to the Vizier," it replied in a deceptively sweet tone.
"No one could have anticipated the scope of the Vizier's treachery," he spoke through clenched teeth.
"But you saw straight through him, it was your father who convinced you to act against your better judgment, or did you do it out of spite because a certain someone told you not to?"
"I have learned my lesson," the Prince muttered darkly, wishing that there were not any people outside the door so he could carry on the discussion without having to worry about being heard.
"Doesn't it bother you that all your lessons come at such a high price?"
"I do not wish to continue this discussion any longer. I have learned from my mistakes and that is what matters."
The voice made a sound as though it was about to comment on that, but then fell silent.
While waiting for it to say whatever snide comment it was going to, the Prince went through the motions of looking the list over again. All things considered it could have been far worse, there were the two men they had discovered to be dead, the five that had no intention of returning to the palace after what had happened, the one he had just finished dealing with, and the three left to go who he had no reason to suspect to be particularly good or bad.
Much to his amazement the silence from the voice stretched on for several minutes. He knew better than to hope that it had vanished as suddenly as it had arrived, still that it had not spoken yet was puzzling. If it was trying to take him over he failed to see what good it would do at a time like this. There was little it could do to torment him and no havoc it could wreak right now, unless it really did intend to force him to finish the interviews. Morbid curiosity made him wonder how it would deal with that. To watch it try to conduct the interviews would almost be worth it, especially since it would spare him the hassle.
"Do you feel better now that I let you have the last word?"
Slumping down in his chair he gave a frustrated sigh, "I did until you started talking again."
"Are you up to continuing?" it inquired in a cheerful tone.
"If you insist."
"You do this just for me? I'm flattered," the voice said flatly.
Rather than reply he tried to decide if he really was ready to call for the next of the men to come in. Getting the interviews over with could not possibly be any worse than any of the torments the voice could come up with. Then again, if any of them proved as bad as the last at the very worst they would only be equal to any torments the voice could come up with. It all might even be a part of some plot devised by the voice, since the interviews delayed him from doing what he wanted. The first thing he had wanted to do that morning had been to go to the library and see if he could find the books he wanted. The voice had other plans and demanded that he get to work on following through with the plans they had made the previous day. When he refused it used its standard strategy of pestering him with trivialities and when those failed, it resorted to humming. Unable to concentrate he had been forced to do as it wished.
From there things had been almost unpleasantly easy. Many of the men on the list had been waiting to receive such news and the first had begun to arrive at the palace shortly after the last messenger had been sent out.
Waiting and worrying only served to help the voice at this point, for every moment he spent in indecision was a moment that could be better spent in the library. With that in mind he knew that he had no choice but to finish the interviews as quickly as possible.
Actually when all was said and done, it was nowhere near as bad as he had expected. The voice had comments to make of course, but they were either helpful or carefully neutral, probably because he was doing what it wanted. Getting the interviews done as quickly as possible had been its idea so as to get them out of the way and get advisors appointed. That way he would have to deal with only the most urgent of the city's problems. Though he was not going to admit it, he found this agreeable as it meant that he would not have to listen to the voice's advice for lack of anyone better to go to. Not spending time dealing with other people's problems meant time that he could spend figuring out how to bring Farah back and how to get rid of the voice.
Now he could finally do what he had wanted to from the start.
He was going straight to the palace library like he had wanted to, for if the Vizier had brought any of the books stolen from the Island of Time it was likely that they had ended up there. He knew the books existed, for he had heard the Vizier talking about them. In those books were the secrets of the Dagger and Sands of Time, how to control them and with that information he could be rid of the voice.
As he made his way to the library it began to speak again.
"You know that there's a problem with your plan Prince."
The Prince smiled, "You just say that because you're afraid."
"Do I sound afraid?"
He had to admit it sounded amused than afraid, but it was likely bluffing so he would call its bluff, "Since you're so fond of pointing out my mistakes, what is it you've seen that I've missed?"
"Really Prince," its tone was one of mock pity, "Your plan assumes that the Sands have something to do with my continued existence, but you know as well as I do that the Sands are gone. My being here has nothing to do with them, it never did."
It was lying in a desperate attempt to keep him from destroying it. Now he was sure that the books would be in the library and that they would contain the information that he needed. Though it was immature, he decided that he was not above gloating about it, the voice had indulged in similar spiteful pleasures after all, "As always you try to deceive me, but I know that you are afraid. No matter what you say I will not let a monster like you fool me."
A small noise of shock was followed by laughter so loud that he was driven to his knees with his hands over his ears. Closing his eyes, he waited for it to pass.
He failed to hear the sound of an approaching servant over the sound of the laughter in his mind, until the servant knelt down next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
His eyes snapped open and he stared at the servant, the situation taking far too long to register.
"Are you alright your highness?" the servant asked in a voice full of concern.
Wincing, the Prince tried to brush the servant's hand away, "Yes, I am fine. It's a headache, nothing more."
"Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No, just go, I'll be fine," he closed his eyes again.
The voice's laughing had tailed off into breathless giggles as it struggled to regain its composure. The relative quiet made it possible for the Prince to hear that the servant had left him.
Just to be sure he opened his eyes and looked both ways down the hall before his gaze settled on a point directly in front of him. There was a large crack running through the elaborate mural that decorated the wall. It was yet another reminder that there was still a long way to go before the palace was fully repaired.
It recovered before he did. Out of breath from laughter it still managed to speak before he was sure if he would be steady on his feet.
"It's pathetic how you do this. You'll go to any length to avoid having to face the truth."
To the best of his knowledge there was no one else in the area, so it was safe to reply, "And what is the truth?"
"If you really wanted to know you would have figured it out already. As it is, even if I told you, you would refuse to believe me and besides, I have no intention of telling you."
"Because if you did I'd know how to be rid of you," the Prince said bitterly.
"Not exactly, but if that's how you want to look at it," its tone was agreeable enough, despite the subject of the discussion being its own destruction.
Getting to his feet he continued on his way to the library, "And will you try and stop me from finding information on the Sands?"
"Though I would rather you didn't waste your time, it would be a waste of effort for me to do so."
He had mistakenly assumed that the palace library would be the same as ever, the same mistake he had made about the gardens. Reality was very different than his expectations.
Instead of shelves of carefully organized tomes and cases of scrolls he encountered stacks of books piled on the floor or crammed onto any undamaged shelves, while what few scribes there were worked diligently to copy the scrolls that were too badly damaged to be salvaged, but were still readable. Along the walls there were a number of broken shelves, collecting dust, waiting to either be repaired or discarded. Organizing the books and clearing away debris had been put off until more urgent matters were tended to.
Because he had entered so quietly no one even noticed his arrival, much to his relief. As he took in his surroundings he realized how foolish it would be to try and find what he needed. He would be looking for books he could not begin to identify or describe amid thousands of other books, none of which were in any semblance of organization. Even if he had known what he was looking for finding it would have been next to impossible with thousands of books to go through.
For what it mattered the voice said nothing the entire time he was in the library, though he was convinced that he could feel its silent smugness.
Scowling, he left the library and tried to think of what to do next.
"Don't worry Prince," the voice spoke as though trying to comfort him, "Even if you could have found the books it wouldn't have done you any good."
A quick glance let him know that he was alone in the hall, "It only means that I'll have to wait a little longer to find those books. I can manage until then."
"Yes, because you've done so well so far."
Still watching in case someone came by, he continued speaking with it, "You do nothing to make things any easier."
"Really? If not for me you would still be arguing with Farah, listening to people complain and generally being useless."
"That's not what I meant."
"Oh yes, you would much rather make a mess of things on your own than get anything done with my help. What would you do if I actually did stop helping you?"
"I would–" he began, but stopped when he heard footsteps. A servant walked by and bowed to him as though there was nothing unusual going on. Sooner or later he knew that he would speak to it when others were present, as he had previously, and would be unable to find a way to hide that he had not been speaking to anyone in the room. Eventually there would come a time where it would wear him down and he would fail to think quickly enough. The only way to avoid it would be to get rid of the voice, until then he would have to remain on guard at all times.
Just thinking about what it would be like living with the voice for any amount of time was disheartening. He longed to be able to seek out some form of distraction, yet everything he had tried previously had failed and, as much as he would like to, he could not flee from his responsibilities as king. No matter what the voice said and did he was unable to do as he wished and avoid contact with anyone until he got rid of it.
His responsibilities held him trapped in the palace.
Alone again he finished his statement, "I would manage fine without you."
"How about I keep quiet for the rest of the day to test that?" it inquired.
Even though the day was nearly over the opportunity to spend that time in silence was too good to pass up.
"Fine, I'll enjoy every minute of it."
No reply came.
He started to the gardens, then thought better of it. After what had happened the previous night he was no longer so fond of the gardens and had a feeling that even after they were restored he would not want to go there. Neither he nor the voice had brought up what had happened and he had no desire to tempt fate, or the voice, by going there.
Going to his room was a possibility since there he could spend as much time as he wanted thinking without having to worry about interruptions. There was a problem with that idea as well though. He had been spending too much time alone in there lately. Even if that alone was not enough to make people suspicious, there was no telling what other recent actions of his had attracted unwanted attention. If they had not begun to do so already, people would start wondering about him.
Doing nothing would fail to provide him with the distraction he needed, yet he was unable to think of anything to actually do.
In the end he spent the rest of the day wandering the palace to see how the repairs were being managed for lack of any better ideas about passing time. His expectations were not particularly high, but he was fairly sure that some little projects were in progress to make the palace more presentable. The complaints he had made about the gardens had inspired the other little efforts elsewhere and he wanted to see what was being done.
