A/N: Only three chapters to go! Also, to answer a review on the last chapter—Celaena won't be in this story, but she's going to be a big part of the next one. She and Dorian will run into each other at some point, but before that, the story is going to shift back and forth between their points of view. And thank you for your reviews, to all of you that have left them. You have no idea what they mean to me. =)
Chapter Fifty-Two: A Final Visit to the Library
"Yes. I will duel with you. To the death."
Chaol covered his mouth as he listened to Dorian say that. He'd followed Dorian from the room. He might have agreed to let Dorian go, but he didn't want Dorian to be completely on his own. So many things could go wrong—he wasn't about to let his best friend walk to his death without backup.
He had listened to much of the latter part of the conversation, enough so to know that Dorian had magic—as confusing and strange as that sounded—and that he'd known about it for a while. He was hurt that Dorian hadn't told him, but he understood why. Something like could easily have gotten Dorian killed, were the wrong person to find out, and Dorian knew that better than anyone. He wouldn't have been surprised if Dorian hadn't told anyone at all—not even Lisa. And besides—Chaol knew that he'd proven himself to not be the most reliable friend at times. He could hon up to that much, at least.
He ignoring all of that: Dorian had just agreed to duel to the death with his father. There was no way that the king would propose something like that unless the man was either absolutely sure he would win or had something up his sleeve, and Chaol was pretty damn sure it was the former—either way, this wouldn't end well for Dorian.
He loved Dorian, but the kid could be reckless. Dorian was probably in there thinking that this was his only option—that, no matter what, his father was going to hunt him, so might as well go down trying to end a horror two years in the making.
But that was just it—he loved Dorian, no matter how reckless he was. He loved him. He couldn't let Dorian die not knowing that.
I can't let this go through. I can't let the man that I love die. That was the first time that Chaol had really allowed himself to admit that—that he loved Dorian—and now that he had, there was no going back.
But how could he possibly help? He had no magic; he would only get in the way, especially if Dorian really had been practicing for all that time.
Perhaps the library would have something to help. But it will take me so long to get there!
But he had nothing better that he could think of to do, besides tell someone else, and that could end poorly since he had no idea who was truly loyal to whom, and if he chose the wrong person it could result in Dorian's death.
He flew down the stairs and past all of the guards to the library, hell blaising in his eyes.
"Hey, Chaol, what's wrong?" Jamie asked as Chaol passed, but Chaol gave no response. Stopping meant giving up valuable time, and every single second he wasted ment Dorian was closer to death than the last.
He hurtled himself into the library, ignoring the librarian that consequently began cursing at him to slow down ("You'll break something!") and he dashed to the back as quickly as he could.
"Open," he whispered, and the hatch dropped down.
Rather than climbing down the ladder, he jumped (and almost broke his foot doing so), but got up as fast as he could, ignoring the ache in his ankle.
He darted over to the list first, and saw that one of the names at the bottom of the list had been moved. While he couldn't actually read the list, he recognized the symbols that had spelled out Dorian's name were now at the very top of the list.
He froze.
How could the author of the list have known?
Chaol's thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice.
"You shouldn't be here. I thought I'd made that clear enough before."
It was the voice that had chased Chaol and Dorian out in the past, except now it was so much clearer. And louder. It sounded as if…
Something brushed Chaol's back. He yelped and whirled around.
As if the person were actually there.
"Hello, Chaol," Duke Perrington drawled. "The king warned you not to get involved. Unfortunately, you clearly didn't listen closely enough."
"We were right then," Chaol whispered, recovering from his momentary shock.
"We?" Perrington frowned. "Who else was involved?" He glanced at the list on the table and then it seemed to dawn on him. "Of course the prince was helping. Why wouldn't he? You have no magical ability; you would have needed him to get down here the first time. I had been wondering about that."
"What is this place?" Chaol asked. He needed to keep Perrington talking until he could get out of the cave. He started to edge towards the ladder. Finding something down here to help Dorian wouldn't matter if they were both too dead to use it.
"It's an old place for those of former magical ability to stay—it would restore one's former powers, if only for the time they remained inside it. Only they can enter, although if they bring a non magical person down with them, that person would perhaps be able to return. That is why we—the king and I—took various precautions. A foreboding feeling meant to enter the mind of anyone nearby, a creature to scare them out. I have to admit, I thought it was enough to keep curious people out. Which is why I so foolishly thought I had simply misplaced the list, rather than thinking it had been stolen. It took me a while to realize that you must have taken it."
"Speaking of the list," Chaol butted in, "how did this whole thing work? I mean, what was going on behind the scenes?" Chaol didn't expect Perrington to answer, but he was genuinely curious, and whatever he could do to buy himself a little more time so that he could get back to Dorian alive was something he would try.
"It was simple, really. The king would order the hit and I'd carry it out. That way, his hands weren't dirty and he could put me to use. We used the list to communicate. You see, it's spelled to change to match what the king is feeling at that moment, which made it easier to not get caught discussing something of the sort."
Chaol frowned. "Why are you telling me this?" He was almost to the ladder. If he could just get up it before Perrington, he might stand a chance.
"Because," Perrington grinned. "I think that you deserve to know what's really going on before you die."
"Before I die?" Chaol asked, alarmed.
"Yes," Perrington said. "I know that the king and his son currently duel above us with magic, so why should we not duel with swords instead? I'll give you a chance to fight for your life, but to be clear: You will not win. Whether you agree or not, I will end you."
Chaol cocked his head. He was pretty sure that this was just a ploy to stop him from helping Dorian.
"What if I say no?"
"Trust that you cannot climb that ladder while I am still alive."
Chaol glanced behind him at the rungs, so temptingly close. "Will it allow me to climb if you are dead?" Perrington could easily have cursed it so that Chaol couldn't leave in any outcome. Then again, the man was cocky enough that he might be telling the truth.
"Then it doesn't matter and either way you'll die," Perrington said exasperatedly.
Chaol watched Perrington with a calculating gaze. If Perrington had done that, then he might as well bring the Duke down while attempting to leave. If he was prohibited from escaping, then killing Perrington was the only way he could help Dorian.
"Fine," he sighed. Perrington wouldn't let him leave unless he was dead—Chaol understood that.
So that was that. Both boys began their duels to death, praying that it would turn out alright for the other's sake, so that the other could escape, ten and a half years after they had first met.
Chapter Release Date: September 8, 2018
