...Am I the only one who looks at the word Parley and thinks, "Yum. Parsley" every single time?
Hullo! Long time no see! How's everyone's Autumn been so far?
Sorry about that long absence- I am forced to confess that I've written maybe one full chapter since September. Eee. Ah, well. I'm back now, and I'm gonna try my best to update regularly until this story is done! :D In the meantime, please consider going back and skimming the last chapter again, so you're not completely lost. I'm really sorry: I'd intended to have my long hiatus directly after chapter 117, but people seemed to think the story was over so I had to hastily publish 118 with its crazy cliffhanger to let you guys know that it's not quite time yet to stop following this story! XD
Without further adieu, enjoy!
Parley
Garmadon rode his horse hard for nearly an hour before allowing it to slow to a trot. Breathing hard, steam rising from its nostrils, the beast shook its sheer black mane in the early morning sunlight, nearly unseating Varasach. Only the King's firm hand around her middle kept her from falling.
Garmadon looked over his shoulder, frowning at the empty road surrounded by snowy trees. "The Southern guard cannot be far behind," he said, "but we're nearly to safety." He paused a moment, then added, "You're shivering."
"Y-yes." Varasach's teeth chattered together from the cold, and she clenched her jaw.
Garmadon slid his hand down Varasach's sleeve to her fingers. She stiffened. What exactly did this man want with her?
"You're far too cold," Garmadon scolded her. "Hosts, girl. Why didn't you say anything sooner? I thought sitting on Faris' bare back would keep you warmer than this." He released the reins to remove his cloak. Its many buttons took him close to a minute to undo, Faris trotting all the while, but he eventually finished and wrapped it around Varasach like a blanket.
"Thank you," she murmured, letting go of Faris' mane, trusting Garmadon to keep her from falling again. Her joints felt thick and stiff, and it was all she could do to ball her hands underneath the warm green and black cloak, trying to regain some warmth.
The last time she'd started to feel this cold, she'd lost Kyle, and Cole, and then died.
Abruptly, Garmadon laughed. Varasach and the horse gave a start as the sound echoed through the still trees. A small brown animal with a long tail let out a sharp chirp and darted up an evergreen. Garmadon's laugh persisted for several moments before he let it taper off.
He must be insane, Varasach thought, heart beating fast. She knew from experience that insane men- or women- were among the most dangerous people one could encounter. Disconnected from reality, they harmed themselves- and others- not caring an inkling about the consequences.
She hoped Josi- or even Peran, or Zane- would come and rescue her soon.
"I have forgotten what it is like to be this free," Garmadon whispered. "By the Patriarchs. I don't know what you did, girl, but thank you."
"Wh…what?"
"The other me, girl. He's gone!" He sounded so thrilled that Varasach felt compelled to laugh with him, albeit forcedly.
She knew that if she were to die at Garmadon's hand, she would be safe with the God she loved in the afterlife. But fifteen years of fearing men was hard to break. And at this moment, all she wanted was to be safe from this man.
"What is your name, girl?" Garmadon asked after a moment of quiet. His gentle tone made Varasach pause.
"Um… I am Varasach."
"Hmm. Peculiar name. Who are your parents, Vara-sak?"
"Um…dead."
"Who, girl. Who are they?"
"Oh. I don't remember." It was the truth: Varasach didn't remember their names. Cyrus had interviewed her not long after her arrival in his fortress, and quizzed her briefly on what she knew of her home and family. From all either of them could gather, her father had been a soldier in Lord Keith's army. And her mother…
Well, she remembered so little. She was a good cook- at least to Varasach's young palate. And she'd had a sweet-smelling garden full of flowers and herbs.
There was one event in particular that had always been concrete in Varasach's mind, and that was a brief image of watching a big blue beetle crawl up the window frame of her bedroom as her mother sang her to sleep. Although to what tune, and what words, Varasach could never remember.
"Well," Garmadon said when he apparently realized Varasach wasn't going to tell him more without prompting, "when did they die?"
Why all this interest in my parents? Varasach swallowed. "They died on Keitorin. When Overlord came."
"Mm." Garmadon tensed a bit. "Well. I had assumed you were from the far North- there is a group of villages up there that have an accent similar to yours- but this is a new development… How did you manage to leave the Dark Island?" His tone had begun to make a transition from conversational to interrogational.
Varasach said nothing for a while. How should she respond? Tell him the truth? But if she mentioned Cyrus, she knew Garmadon would likely use any and all force necessary to get information from her about Cyrus' base. Varasach could not betray him. Especially not after all the time and resources he- and Josi, and Kyle- had put into helping former slaves just like her.
The horse stumbled, and Garmadon tightened his grip around her middle as Faris righted himself with what almost seemed an apologetic snort. Garmadon's hand did not loosen.
What does Garmadon want with me? Varasach's body began to shake with more than just cold. She had no idea what to expect from this man. Is he kind, like Cole or Cyrus, or will he treat me like Overlord?
If Varasach had reason to suspect that Garmadon was like Overlord, then she was in much bigger trouble than he was currently insinuating.
I can't go back, she thought, her breath quickening. Please, don't let him bring me back!
"Hey- hey, girl. Are you crying?" Garmadon asked, sounding surprised. "Moons. What did they do to you? Are you all right?"
Varasach wiped her eyes on the cloak- her face was numb from the cold- and found herself reverting to the Dark Tongue out of habit.
"What was that, girl?"
"N-nothing. I said they di-id nothing to me."
"Then how did you get to the South?" His tone was soft once again. "Why were you there?"
"Because…" It occurred to Varasach then in the midst of her tears that she didn't strictly need to tell Garmadon about Cyrus. "I came back with…um, Lord Kai, Lady Nya, and Lord Zane, and the others a month ago. They stopped in Sheshin for a night."
"And Kaytake held you captive," Garmadon said thoughtfully, as if to himself. "He likely disowned his own son to keep the secret that he had you… And Zane was in on it, too."
This was not the conclusion Varasach had expected him to draw, but she said nothing to correct him: it was better for him to draw his own conclusions than know about Cyrus.
Up ahead, Varasach heard the sound of a river over the light breeze. Garmadon must have heard it then as well because he pulled on the reins, guiding the horse off the road and into the thick brush. Snow fell from branches as the trees were disturbed, and the King covered Varasach's hair with the cloak.
"I am glad I found you," Garmadon said softly, the river growing ever nearer.
"Why?"
"For numerous reasons. One being… Ah, we're here."
The horse came to a stop at the bank of the wide, frozen river. On either side, all Varasach could see was snow, ice, evergreens, and leafless trees and bushes.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"The Leirin River." Garmadon paused. "I suppose we could have just crossed the bridge since the guard there probably hasn't been changed since I…disposed of them. But we should play it safe, just in case, and cross here. Let's do it quickly: see, there's a path here. Southern soldiers may be patrolling the entire Southern side of this river."
He dug his heels into the horse's flanks. Faris resisted, then hesitantly stepped out onto the ice after another firm kick. "Don't be afraid, Vara-sak. The ice here has been frozen long enough to be safe."
Garmadon's words gave Varasach little comfort, and Faris seemed as happy as her when they finally reached the other side. The horse shook his mane and stamped the ground a few times, as if to reassure himself that they were indeed on solid ground again.
"That was the Southern border," Garmadon said. "Not too impressive. In hindsight, I suppose most of the soldiers are in Sheshin cleaning up after that riot last night. No time to upkeep the border patrol as they have every day before now."
Garmadon rode at a slow pace through the trees for a ways. Varasach kept her head low and her shoulders slumped to avoid getting snow inside her borrowed cloak.
After a few minutes the sound of another horse ahead caught Varasach's attention, and she lifted her head. Perhaps it was someone from the South come to rescue her!
A man rode out of the brush to their left on a mottled gray horse, wearing a cloak similar to Garmadon's.
"You stayed, Lord Rector," Garmadon greeted the man.
"My King insults me." The Lord Rector's voice reminded Varasach of the hissing noise those sandy-colored, burrowing snakes on the Dark Island always made when they were threatened. "Who is this girl?"
"Come closer," Garmadon ordered. He pulled back Varasach's hood. Snow fell as the cloak was disturbed.
The Lord Rector obeyed, squinting- or perhaps scowling- as his sharp gaze swept Varasach from her red hair to her fine blue dress that Lady Driniah had loaned her. He gave a start. "She has green eyes," he said, looking at Garmadon questioningly. "Who is she, My King?"
"That information does not concern you," Garmadon said. "You will give her your cloak. Here." He tossed a fat, palm-sized pouch toward the Lord Rector. The man caught it from atop his mount. It jangled, suggesting that it was full of coins. "Ride to the Blue Cat Inn, and get her warm. If I am not satisfied with her treatment when I return…" Garmadon left it unsaid. "And I need your saddle. Keep the underblanket if you wish."
The Lord Rector nodded ceremoniously, tying the money pouch to his belt. "I live to serve, My King," he said, and dismounted. "If My King does not mind my asking… What happened with Zane?"
"Nothing yet," Garmadon said, dismounting as well. "But I will have news soon."
"I eagerly await it," the Lord Rector replied, unbuckling the girth and sliding the saddle from his horse's back.
After Garmadon stood on the ground, he held out his arms to Varasach. "I'll catch you."
Varasach tentatively let go of Faris' mane and lifted her right leg over the horse's bare back. However, without any stirrup for her left foot to stabilize herself, she slid and was unable to stop herself from falling. She yelped as Garmadon caught her under her arms, then set her on her feet. She teetered unsteadily until he took her hand. She heard him mutter again, probably to himself, about how cold she was.
"Spare no expense for her comfort," Garmadon said to the man with the seemingly permanent frown. "But keep quiet: it wouldn't do for rumors to start about the deposed Lord Rector associating with a green-eyed girl."
"Of course, My King." The Lord Rector fastened his saddle on the King's horse and beckoned to Varasach. "Get on." His tone told Varasach that he would rather be sharing his mount with a muddy animal.
"Her name is Vara-sak," Garmadon said. "And you will ask her no questions."
"Understood, My King."
"Good." Garmadon unfastened his cloak from Varasach's shoulders and helped her onto the horse's blanketed back. As he did he whispered so the Lord Rector could not hear: "I'll return at sunset. I'm sorry to leave you with him, but I have no choice. Don't answer any questions he may ask about your history, or where you're from: it's none of his business."
Varasach nodded, and Garmadon patted her leg. His slight smile seemed to carry a thousand complicated emotions and thoughts just beyond Varasach's understanding. Fear. Kindness. Eagerness. Hesitance. He looked ready to say something more, but pursed his lips instead.
For once Varasach was not the first one to break eye contact. Garmadon turned to Faris and fiddled with the stirrups of his borrowed saddle, issuing a handful more commands to the Lord Rector.
"Give her your cloak. Run the horse as fast as you can without her falling off. Wait at the Blue Cat until I return."
"Do I dare ask when that will be?"
Garmadon looked over the seat, giving the Lord Rector a look that would curdle milk.
The Lord Rector bowed a silent apology and did not rise until after Garmadon had spoken.
"You will wait until you are gray, if you must," the King said. "Honor your oaths, and serve faithfully those who have been Blessed. Serve Vara-sak. And know that at this point in the game, her life is worth more to me than yours, Loiel."
The Lord Rector straightened, looking as if he had been slapped. Varasach felt equally uncomfortable. "Without question, I hear and obey."
"Hmm. If only you did," Garmadon muttered. The Lord Rector's face flushed with precariously controlled anger.
Finally satisfied with his stirrups, Garmadon mounted. The horse shifted under his weight, ears swiveling backwards. "Perhaps being deposed has been good for you, Priest," the King said. "Those with the most pride are the easiest to offend. You're overdue for a lesson in humility."
With those final words, Garmadon trotted back up the road toward the South. He did not look back.
The Priest stared after Garmadon until he turned into the trees, grinding his teeth.
Then he took a deep breath and looked up at Varasach on his horse, a slight, knowing smile on his face. "The Blue Cat," he said lightly. "If we move now, we can make it there within the hour. You look cold, my lady." He removed his cloak and threw it around Varasach's shoulders. It, coupled with the heat from the horse's back, left Varasach's limbs with a tingling, burning sensation as warmth began to return to her blood.
The Lord Rector moved the horse beside a high bank and climbed on behind Varasach. "You look a little unsteady, my lady." He wrapped his arm around Varasach's middle, much like Garmadon had- though this was significantly more unpleasant- and drove the horse up the road, way from the South.
The hours following Varasach's kidnapping were more chaotic than anything Josi had ever encountered before. A party had been sent out on horseback immediately to rescue the girl, but they came back empty-handed. By then, Peran at last awoke from his head injury and demanded another search party be sent out. Iam went with some of Cyrus' men. They too came back with no news, insisting that the new guards posted at the border had not seen Garmadon cross. However, there were some hoof prints that crossed the frozen river about a quarter mile from the main bridge. Though there was no way of confirming it, everyone knew it was likely Garmadon and his captive. Zane had prohibited them from crossing the border, so they returned again to Sheshin empty-handed.
The fact that the King had snuck by- and killed- so many of the South's men visibly infuriated Peran: he paced Zane's study as if he intended to beat a path into the carpet.
"He said he would come back at noon, General," Zane said. He sat at his desk, a pen in hand, drinking his third cup of coffee. "Sit and save your strength."
"And you actually intend to let him in, My Lord?" Peran snapped. "He is far too powerful."
"Zane can handle him, I'm sure," Josi said. She sat in a chair between Driniah and Misako, feeling sick to her stomach with anxiety. She would never have left Varasach alone if she'd thought something like this would happen. We were supposed to be safe here. Oh, Vara…
"You don't know Garmadon like I do," Misako said. "Zane does not have the experience to negotiate with him." Elbow on the arm of her chair, she set her forehead in her palm. "He only wants me, you know. He likely took Vara as a bargaining chip to get me back."
Josi opened her mouth to argue that there was no way that Garmadon would have discovered she was her, but stopped herself as she recalled Zane's warning on her first day here. There might be spies for Garmadon in the Sheshin Keep. And they hadn't been nearly as careful as they should have about who could know of Misako's presence. Josi sighed. I don't have any right to be angry with Zane. Everyone is at fault here, myself more than anyone else.
"Misako's right, Zane," Driniah said. "As much as I hate to admit it, the only way to get Vara back may be to return his Queen."
"I won't let that happen," Zane said, not looking up from the paper he was writing on.
"Zane, I am willing to go back if it will save Vara's life," Misako said. She leaned forward in her seat. "But the question no one's asking yet is…why Vara, of all people?"
Peran's pacing slowed, and he turned to look at her silently. From the look in his eyes, he'd likely been wondering the same thing.
"What do you mean?" Driniah asked.
"I mean, why would he take Vara when he could have had Peran?" Misako gestured to the General. "To the best of Garmadon's knowledge, a General would be worth more to Zane than a girl confined to a wheelchair."
This silenced everyone for a stretch before Misako continued.
"It's her eyes," the Queen said. "It has to be. Garmadon has been unstable for months, yes. But he was still mostly normal until Lloyd died. After that…" Her voice softened. "...he hasn't been himself at all."
"Vara has green eyes," Peran said thoughtfully. "I always thought there was something about her face that resembled Lloyd's… Do you think Garmadon is looking for someone to replace your son?"
"It makes more sense than I want to admit."
"But that doesn't explain why he came in the first place," Driniah interjected. "He killed eight of your men, Zane. At the border, at the gate, and witnesses all along the roads on his way here. Did he do all of that just to take Vara?"
"It didn't seem that way," Peran said. "When I left the dining room and stumbled onto the scene, Garmadon seemed surprised to see Varasach." He absently touched the swollen bruise on the back of his head, mostly hidden by peppered black hair. "If Varasach had truly been his goal, he would have taken her immediately instead of fighting me first. He had the upper hand, I reluctantly admit."
"He was coming to talk to me, no doubt, and got distracted by Vara and her green eyes." Zane sighed, finally setting down his pen. His eyes scanned the paper, and he pulled his lips tight, handing it to Misako. "What do you think?"
Misako read the paper carefully. "This treaty may tempt him," she said, passing it on to Driniah. "But if it fails, do you have another plan?"
"Yes," Zane said. "We fight."
A heavy silence settled over them. Peran continued his pacing. Driniah read the parchment and eventually passed it on to Josi, nodding to herself. Before Josi could read it there came a knock at the door.
Iam entered without waiting for an invitation, an indiscernible look in his eyes as he nodded to Zane. "Garmadon's here," he said, and Peran stilled. "A scout saw him coming down the road. You have a few minutes left to prepare that treaty."
Misako stood as if her cushion had turned to hot coals. "I'll take my leave now," she said, all blood drained from her face.
"I'll go as well," Josi said, following Misako to the door. It wasn't that she was afraid of the King, but she did not think it wise for her, an emissary of Garmadon's most hated enemy, to sit in on a key meeting between him and Zane. If he found out who she was...
Zane nodded and waved them off, looking about as pale as Misako, though his jaw was set as hard as a stone. "I'll call for you when it's over," he said, also motioning for Iam to leave. Only himself, Peran, and Driniah remained as Josi shut the door.
Misako's eyes darted up and down the hall, more anxious than Josi had ever seen. "I…I'll be in the library," she murmured at last. "I need to have some time in prayer."
Iam grunted his agreement. "I'll join you," he said. Misako nodded her consent.
"Josi?" Misako asked.
The Nindroid shook her head. She felt sick to her stomach. She didn't want to pray right now; not after failing Him so terribly by losing Vara. All because I didn't want to be in the same room as Zane this morning. Hosts, I'm a fool!
Misako nodded again, and the pair hurried down the hall. Josi headed in the opposite direction, toward the stairs. She would go to the kitchen and help the cooks clean and begin preparations for dinner: some good hard work might help get her mind off of the misfortunes of these past few weeks.
First Kyle, then my friendship with Zane, and now Vara, she thought, hands shaking as she descended the steps, fighting moisture from her eyes. Why can't I hold on to anything?
To Zane's surprise, Garmadon looked better than when Zane had seen him last: the King's eyes had reverted to green again, instead of red. His skin looked less ghoulish and pale. Perhaps whatever poison he had is finally working its way out of his body, Zane thought hopefully.
The King's leering gaze and contemptuous tone said otherwise as he came to a stop in the center of the room, and a Southern guard shut the door. For reasons unbeknownst to Zane, Garmadon had come without any green-uniformed Guards of his own.
"So," Garmadon said, examining the study, then Driniah. She held herself with dignified posture, leveling his gaze. Garmadon let her be after a few heartbeats and met Peran's eyes. Zane thought he saw a bit of a smirk lighten the King's expression.
"I have written some conditions for your surrender," Garmadon said at last.
Zane frowned across the desk at the King. "Pardon?"
"Your surrender," Garmadon said, removing a large, folded bit of white cloth- a flag, perhaps, or a banner- from a satchel underneath his cloak. He set it on the table. "I will allow you to fly this white flag if you accept my terms."
Is he really so arrogant as this? Zane frowned at the flag on the table. He will allow us to not engage him in war if we do something for him?
"What makes you think we want to surrender?" Driniah asked. She'd moved her chair so she sat beside Zane on his side of the desk. Peran stood behind them, hands clasped behind his back.
Garmadon made a wide gesture with his arms. "Everything," he said. "For example, you have half of the military presence I do, if that. Any battle, on any field, will inevitably lead to my victory."
"I would prefer to reach a common ground without any further bloodshed," Zane answered coolly.
"That's why I brought the flag," Garmadon said. He held up a hand to silence Zane, sat in a chair, and pulled out an envelope. "Here is my treaty. You'd do well to sign at the bottom this minute. Save us all some trouble. Ah! Not a word. Let me finish." He ripped open the envelope and began to read. "Item number one: you will release the Queen. And don't bother lying. You planted evidence convicting Cyrus in Misako's bedroom, but we both know he didn't do it. She's here." His eyes bored into Zane's like jade daggers. "I want her back."
Before Zane could even open his mouth to protest Garmadon began again. "Item two: Driniah and Zane, you will give me full authority over the South, and remove yourselves to the Dark Island."
"Exile?" Driniah's skin turned white. Her hand went to her rounded belly.
Zane stared at Garmadon, nodding slowly. He'd expected as much. "Anything else?" he asked.
Garmadon folded up the treaty and set it on top of the folded flag. "Yes. One more thing." His lips curled up in a smile. "My saddle. I couldn't help noticing it's not where I'd left it on your front lawn this morning. If you could return that to me… It was rather expensive."
He's mad, Zane said to Duskweaver. Completely mad. Do you see any of the poison in him?
After a moment, Duskweaver responded. No. There is no trace of it. However, there is some unusual activity in his brain…
No poison, Zane said. And yet here he is, the same raving lunatic I'd been trying to heal for weeks before the secession. Something in the poison must have severely damaged his mind. Why had Kaytake thought it was a good idea to do such a thing to the King? He uncrossed his legs and sat back in his chair. "What will you do if I don't sign this treaty?" he asked.
"I'll kill you," Garmadon said simply. "But really, what choice do you have but to sign, now that I've taken your leverage against me?"
"What leverage would that be?" Zane asked, his expression neutral. He hadn't been aware that they'd ever had any leverage against the King. Except maybe Misako, but Zane had no intention of letting her go back there unless there was no other way.
"The Blessed girl, Vara-sak," Garmadon said. For the first time anger laced his voice. "I don't know how you and Kaytake managed to find her, but I don't appreciate how you've treated her."
How we treated… "What?" Zane said incredulously. "She was a slave on the Dark Island. The Black Knight rescued her. She's been entrusted to us until his return. He will be cross when he comes back and is informed that you have her."
"Coleman?" Garmadon sounded surprised. "The other Blessed child? Where is he?"
"We don't know," Zane said. "He could be hiding anywhere in Ninjago. I should have you know, however, that I have no alliance with Cole; I only have Varasach because I owe him a favor." Not strictly true, but it should be enough to sate the King.
Garmadon was quiet as he processed this information, chin between his thumb and forefinger, eyes dark.
Praying to the First King for luck, Zane pulled out his own treaty and held it out.
Garmadon looked at the paper as if Zane were offering him a snake. "What is that?" he asked.
"My treaty," Zane said.
Garmadon took the paper hesitantly and unfolded it. The room plunged into collective silence as he skimmed it. Once his eyes reached the bottom he read it again, this time frowning deeply.
"An independent state?" Garmadon read.
"Open borders," Zane said. "Open trade and migration. The South will be governed outside of your authority. We will, however, give you a yearly tribute."
Driniah spoke up. "It's a contract very similar to the one given to Lord Leryn Keith when he-"
"I know what Keith's contract said," Garmadon snapped, silencing her. He slowly shook his head. "However. If I recall correctly, their independence only brought the Overlord down on them. Do you really want to be outside of my protection? The same thing could happen to you."
"I know," Zane said.
"Why do you even want to secede in the first place?" Garmadon asked. "Why demand- very specifically, might I add- that me and my Guards have absolutely no authority to impose my law in the South?"
"Because we want freedom," Driniah said. "We mean you no disrespect, but we would like to be allowed to govern without having to run every negligible detail by you. We are not children."
Garmadon nodded thoughtfully, reading the contract again. A cold sweat gathered on Zane's forehead, and he folded his hands under the desk to hide how wet they'd become. There's no way he'd agree to this, he thought. He wants to control the entire island, and is actively working to destroy the Lords' authority in the North and the South.
"This yearly tribute," Garmadon said. "Would you be willing to raise it to thirty percent?"
Zane gave a start. "I…would prefer not, Your Majesty," he said. "At least not for a few more years. Ninjago has been severely weakened by the plague. The people should be allowed to keep what they've earned so they can survive to the next planting."
Garmadon continued nodding, almost seeming impressed by Zane's answer. "All right," he said. "I'll sign the treaty. However, I want to make a modification."
Zane was momentarily exhilarated by the victory, but concern about how quickly the King had agreed to sign made him wary.
"Yes?" Zane asked.
Garmadon set the treaty on the table. "I want you to tell me where the worm Borg is hiding, and I want you to have no affiliation to him whatsoever. Do not even let his people enter the South."
Zane hoped he didn't look half as startled as he was. He forced a smile, hands clasped like a vice still out of sight. "Borg?" he said. "I haven't seen him since his betrayal of my father over two months ago." That, at least, was the truth. All the same he prayed that Garmadon wouldn't see through his thin mantle of ice.
It was a prayer uttered in vain. Garmadon smiled smugly and stood. He tapped his treaty laying atop the white flag. "You have three days," he said. "I want to see that flag flying in front of the Sheshin keep by sunset of the Fourth of Ara."
"And if it isn't?" Zane asked, heart sinking into his stomach.
"I have an army that will be crossing your border at dawn on the Fifth. From what I've been told, at least two hundred families immigrated to this territory yesterday. They were from Cyrus, I assume? If so, I will kill them, and everyone who has so much as exchanged a greeting with them." He snarled. "No one who speaks to Cyrus' men can be allowed to live in my country. Not even you." As he said this he pointed a finger at Driniah. The noblewoman sat stick-straight in her seat, eyes wide. Peran, who had been still up to this point, laid a hand on his sword.
Zane stood sharply, meeting the King's eyes. "Get out," he hissed. "There's the door. General, make sure he makes it to the front gate without killing or kidnapping any more of my people."
Peran bowed to Zane and went to the door, throwing it open. Appearing unconcerned, Garmadon offered Zane and Driniah a parting smile and followed the General out. Zane stared at the open door, speechless, for nearly a minute after the King had gone.
"What will we do?" Driniah asked softly.
Zane turned to her and noticed the tears in her eyes. Hosts, but she looked so much like her daughter.
"I don't know," he admitted. "Damnation…what a mess."
"If we refuse to take the white flag, Garmadon will kill us," Driniah said. "But if we do take it, we will have to go to the Dark Island, and Overlord will kill us."
"Your fate on the Dark Island might not be as certain as you would think," Zane assured her. "I know a man there. He would protect us. There are numerous caves to live in, and lumber to build shelters, and…" He caught himself. "But we aren't going there, Driniah. Not if I can help it."
"So what, then? Are you going to try to fight Garmadon's army when it comes?" Driniah sounded horrified.
"Yes. No." Zane pinched the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh, wishing he were alone so he could unleash his frustration on some hapless object. "I don't know."
...Well. I hope this chapter was everything you'd hoped it'd be upon my return. XD I promise, things will pick up really quickly. Vara looks like a boring and passive character at the moment, but she's gonna get so much better. I guarantee she'll become one of your favorites. I'm so excited to show you all what I have planned for her and Garmy and Peran. And some new characters will be coming up pretty soon! Don't forget, I still have that character that I promised to bring back from the dead. ;)
Hahahaaaa I'm so excited, it is so good to be back. This has been a sucky couple of months for me but I think updating regularly again will help me to feel better. I hope it brightens up your days too!
So, for an updating schedule: Right now, I'm thinking I'll update every ten or so days. Once Christmas break comes, fingers crossed, I'll be doing weekly updates again. This story will, if all goes well, be done hopefully in late January. Thank you all for your patience. The fact that you've stuck around for so long and put up with my junk and sporadic updates heartens me. And of course, a huuuuge thank you to Kira Vulpes. She's seen the ugly, raw versions of all these chapters and I can't thank her enough for all she's done, past, present, and future. And as far as friends go, she's not half bad. ;) *Hugs*
I think that's it. I'll see you all late next week with 120! Reviews are appreciated for good service. (::) Here's Nutella cookies for all my peeps. Have a great week, and God bless!