I lean against the solid oak beam, arms crossed as I stare out over a sea of statues. Jaxon stands off to the side, talking to yet another of his many friends. Whenever we walk around town he’s greeted left and right. Hello, Jaxon! Good morning, Jaxon. You coming by later, Jaxon? Everyone knows him. And everyone loves him, irritatingly so.


    I return my gaze to the statues before me. They are mothers, sons, daughters, fiancee’s, and everything in between. Kept safe in hopes they might wake up one day. Flowers and trinkets lay on or around some, reminding me of Eli’s sister’s memorial. A simple pavilion structure stretches out for half a football field, keeping the elements off the statues but the space is crowded. The courtyard overflows into the open grass all around, statues clustered under large oak trees with leaves awash in orange and red.


    Many belong to men who died years ago. Jaxon says anyone can pay a small yearly fee to keep their statue safe here in New Haven. Even lawbreakers banned from the city can pay to store a statue here but payments usually stop after a year or two. Probably because they either die or just stop caring. But rather than remove the statues to make room, Ivan insists on keeping them safe, and so the pavilion grows with every passing year.


    “Quite a sight, isn’t it?”


    I grin at the voice coming from behind, turning to see Thomas.


    “You’re quite the sight for sore eyes.” My grin fades, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you out any sooner.”


    Thomas shrugs, “don’t be. I needed the vacation. Besides,” he pats a bag at his waist, “I got to borrow a few treasures for my trouble.”


    Thomas and his books. I shake my head, glad for the ease between us and turn back to the statues, “I’ve never seen so many in one place before. Are any yours?”


    “No, my wife and little boy’s statues were destroyed by the time I woke up. I looked, but never found my brother’s statue so I’m guessing he woke up a while back. Hoping, anyways.”


    My jaw goes slack in shock.


    His wife and child. He lost a wife and child.


    And you’d never know. He goes on as if it never happened. I would be devastated. Losing Uncle was bad enough; if I had started a family of my own and woken up to find them dead…


    “I’m so sorry.”


    “It was a long time ago. My story isn’t anything special.” He offers me a smile, “Besides, Fin and I get along just fine.”


    “Fin’s lucky to have you,” I say quietly.


    “Your brother’s lucky to have you.”


    I hug my middle and silence settles in. Some part of me feels guilty for secretly planning to leave Ivan. I’m not sure why, it’s not like I’m leaving forever. I just need a chance to figure things out with Eli without Ivan getting in the way.


    “He’s a good man, you know—your brother.”


    I say nothing.


    “Not many could do what he’s done. He made New Haven what it is today. The men here respect him, they trust him.”


    “Too bad he can’t trust me.”


    “Give it time. You two will get there, eventually.”


    I heave a tired sigh and give Thomas a critical look before glancing around and lowering my voice. “What was that history you mentioned before? Between my brother and Eli?”


    Thomas averts his eyes, frowning as he hooks his thumbs into his pockets and shifts his weight. “Not sure I’m the one who should be telling you that. It’d be best if you heard it from Ivan. Besides, it was before my time; your brother on the other hand—he lived through it.”


    “Please, Thomas. I can’t ask Ivan. If he learns I traveled here with Eli, I don’t know what he’ll do. I’m scared I’ll never see Eli again.”


    He glances over and I catch his gaze with my own. Just when I feel his resistance crumbling the clip-clop of horse hooves and the creaking of a cart comes from behind.


    Ivan approaches on horseback, leading a cart with a stone statue cushioned between thick blankets in the back. Jaxon walks over to help two guards unload it. As I step aside, I catch Thomas sneaking away out of the corner of my eye. Frustration makes me sigh. I’ll need to bother him later and hope he caves.


    I walk up to Ivan and gesture to the stone sea. “Quite a collection you have going on here. Borderline hoarding.”


    Ivan raises a brow. “Is that right?”


    “Afraid so. I spoke with Jaxon and he agreed. This is an intervention.”


    Jaxon looks over at the mention of his name and a grin breaks Ivan’s serious face. I knew he would enjoy me dragging Jaxon into our conversation.


    “You two been talking behind my back then? Should I be worried?”


    “Oh definitely. You would never believe the things he says about you. It’s embarrassing.”


    Jaxon looks unamused, but Ivan laughs.


    “Is she right, Jaxon? Have you turned into an insufferable gossip?”


    Jaxon rolls his eyes as he steps past us. “Things were challenging enough with just one Volkov. I’m not sure this city can survive two of you.”


    “This city? Or yourself?” I toss back.


    “I’m pretty sure I’m already dead and this is purgatory,” His tone is flat but he flashes me playful eyes as he mounts the horse Ivan rode in with. Then he turns the cart and starts back in the direction Ivan came from.


    I scoff, shaking my head at his retreating form. When I look back, Ivan is smiling at me.


    I narrow my eyes at him, “I don’t like that look.”


    “What look?”


    “That one. It’s hopeful. I’m telling you, it’s never going to happen.”


    Jaxon and I will never be a thing. I wish I could tell Ivan why that is, but I can’t. At least not yet.


    “Hm.” He crosses his arms over his chest and looks out over the statues. “You’ll have to forgive a brother for dreaming.”


    I suppress an annoyed sigh. He’s like a dog with a bone. So I let him have it and instead, follow his gaze.


    “Reminds me of a magic trick. An enormous, gruesome magic trick.”


    He grunts agreement. “Makes you wonder who the magician is.”


    “You really think someone did this? Turned us all to stone?”


    He shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t see how it could be a natural thing. Whoever it is, they must hate humanity.”


    “But what if it is a natural thing? Isn’t petrification the process of turning to stone? It happens in nature under special condtions; this time it just happened much faster.”


    He’s quiet. I always tried not to focus too much on theories. It hardly does any good and back when I struggled to just fill my belly I didn’t have the luxury of speculation. No one knows what happened and it seems it will stay that way.


    I nod at the new addition Ivan brought in. “Who’s this one belong to?”


    “Don’t know. It showed up overnight.”


    “Outside the gates?”


    He nods.


    I walk over to the statue and peer at it. A woman in her thirties standing as she looks downward, reaching out to touch something no longer there. I wonder what it was.


    “Does that happen often? A statue just showing up out of the blue?” I ask.


    “A couple times a month.”


    “And you still take them in?”


    “If I don’t then they’ll not last out there unprotected. At least here they have a shot at making it.”


    I look out over the sea of stone, “you protect them. Even though they might never wake up.”


    Ivan follows alongside me as we walk the perimeter. “It’s worth it. Besides, it doesn’t cost me anything.”


    Nothing but space they take up. Which is a lot. But he knows that. I stop and stare at Ivan and something warms inside my chest. He’s a good man. That caring heart of the kid I knew still beats strongly.


    “You don’t know what kind of a person they were before the stone,” I say.


    Ivan stops and looks over.


    “They could have been a criminal. A murderer even.”


    Ivan frowns, “I suppose.”


    “So in a way you’re giving them a second chance.”


    Ivan is silent.


    “What about people who are already awake? Do you believe they deserve a second chance too?”This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    Ivan’s face hardens and he looks away. “If this is about the people I’ve banished from the city, they’ve already had their second chance. You said it yourself: the stone gives you a chance at living life differently. They wasted theirs.”


    “But people can change. I’ve changed. You’ve changed.”


    “They made choices and now suffer the consequences. There are always consequences for the choices we make, regardless of how we may change down the line.”


    “But if they’re—”


    “Why the sudden interest?”


    His tone is cold and impatient. For a moment, our eyes meet and the world seems to pause. I open my mouth. I want to tell him. But I stop, something holds me back, and I can’t get the words out. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe intuition.


    So instead, I step down a row of statues. “What if...hypothetically, I broke the rules and got kicked out of New Haven.”


    “Hypothetically…” he repeats impassively as he follows, “you’re still my sister. So no matter what you do, I’m not going to ‘kick you out’ of my city.”


    “What if I hurt someone?”


    “Then I’m sure he had it coming.”


    I cross my arms “What if I killed someone?”


    He belts out a laugh then turns annoyed eyes my way. “Who are you going to kill, Tasha? Hm? Tell me. Hypothetically.”


    I sigh in exasperation. “That’s not the point.”


    “Then what is the point?”


    “The point is, you would show me favor even if I don’t deserve it, right? Can’t you show favor to people who do deserve it. People who would be a benefit to this city if you gave them clemency?”


    Silence stretches on and the passing moments cultivates unease inside my chest. Ivan doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t even blink, just frowns into the distance. A weak breeze prickles gooseflesh across my skin.


    “You speak as if you have someone in mind,” he finally says.


    I want to deny it, but I can’t, which only confirms his suspicions. But I won’t go so far as to mention Eli by name. As it stands, Ivan banished a plethora of people; for all he knows, it could be anyone.


    “There are two types of people out there, Tasha. Men who are capable of living in a civilized manner and those who aren’t. Our laws weed out the ones who can’t. If we let them back in, then all chaos will break loose.”


    “You don’t have to let everyone in. All I’m suggesting is you give the ones who deserve it a chance to prove themselves.”


    Ivan turns to me, eyes drilling deep, and suddenly I find myself regretting this entire conversation. My heart pounds in my chest. It feels as if he might reach into my mind and pluck out whatever he wants.


    “Tell me who it is. Who do you want me to grant clemency to?”


    I open my mouth but hesitate. My heart clamps tight around this secret; refusing to loosen just an inch.


    “How many people have you banished?” I ask, turning my back to him and letting out a pent up breath as I wind through stone people towards a willow tree.


    He follows. “Many.”


    “Do you know them all by name?”


    “I have their names and faces recorded.”


    “Can I see?”


    “It’s public record. Ask Jaxon and he’ll take you.”


    Discomfort twists deep in my gut. I don’t want to see a list of all Ivan’s enemies. Men who probably want him dead. But mostly I don’t want to see the one face I know is there. Eli doesn’t want Ivan dead, although I cannot say the reverse isn’t true. Still, I should at least act as if I need confirmation that the secret man I’m hiding from Ivan is there.


    I reach the tree and lean back. A stone man to my left and a stone child to my right. The rough bark presses into my spine, but a bright blue sky backdrops rustling leaves overhead. A chilly breeze offsets warm sun.


    “How often do people from this courtyard wake up?”


    “Not often. Only one man in all the time I’ve been here.” His tone is calm. Easy. If Ivan is impatient with me, he hides it well.


    “And how long is that?”


    “Since I woke from the stone, over fifteen years ago. Although the…” He pauses and shoots me an amused look. “Collection was far smaller back then.”


    “Tell you what.” I smirk. “When the next person wakes from here, I’ll tell you who it is.”


    He sets his hands on his hips and looks around, intently. Surveying the area for something in particular. After a few long moments, I push away from the tree to join him.


    “What are you looking for?”


    “I''m trying to decide on the best place for an expansion. I’m thinking the East side would give the most space. I know a few old cities packed with statues and I bet I can get the space filled in a month.”


    My lips part with incredulity, but I can’t keep the corners of my lips from tugging up in a smile. “Really, Ivan? You’re so desperate for a name?”


    He shrugs. “Don’t ask me, I’m more surprised than you. I thought this was an intervention but it seems to be the opposite.”


    I shake my head as Jaxon approaches in the distance.


    “I’m pretty sure you could fill this whole city and still not get what you want.”


    Ivan grins. “I’ll take that bet.”


    ~~~


    I stand on the far end of the training grounds where the shooting range lies. They make their own bullets here in the city and Ivan funds and stockpiles rooms full of them.


    The rifle punches the crook of my shoulder as bullets enter a target ten yards away, one after another. No matter what I say Ivan is resolute in his stance to keep me here. Bang! Thomas got released almost two weeks ago. Bang! I spoke with him repeatedly about sneaking out of the city. Bang! He has a way—three more days and I can see Eli. Bang!


    Even from this distance, I can tell the bullets spray everywhere on the target. Thomas tells me I need to talk to Ivan or Eli for details of the history between the two of them. Says he would rather not spread rumors. I think he just doesn’t want to be the one to break the bad news. I don’t keep pressing him because part of me would rather hear it from Eli—if he will tell me, that is. I could ask Ivan but the moment never feels right. Or maybe I’m scared of what he’ll do.


    I raise my earmuffs and hear the boom of a gun nearby. Ivan stands down the firing line, shooting at a target over three times the distance of mine. I sling my practice rifle over my shoulder and mosey on over. He empties his round and lowers the weapon.


    “Fancy meeting you here. Don’t you have kingly duties to attend to or something?” I lean on the table before us.


    “Can’t a king play hooky every now and then?”


    “Oh, the perks of being a monarch.”


    He chuckles, eye catching on my target. “How did you do?” He starts toward it before I can stop him.


    I cringe internally, but shake off my pride and follow. Once there, we stop and stare for a moment. Honestly, I would have done better with a blindfold. Or at least blindfolded with my bow.


    “Well, I guess you didn’t use a gun to get you here.”


    Shock drops my mouth and I smack his chest, a smile curling at the corners of my lips. “For your information, I discovered other, more reliable ways of defending myself.”


    He raises his brows with a side-dip of his head. “Well, that’s a relief. Because with shooting like that, I think you’d be better off throwing the gun at the attacker instead.”


    Something between a gasp and a scoff escapes my lips. He grins like a little imp, eyes alight with mischief. The nerve of this man. I attack, reaching for his ear, about to give it a good yank but he ducks away. So I try for the other ear but he is far too quick, too tall, and too wise to my ways. I narrow my eyes.


    “I miss the days when you barely reached my chin,” I say in defeat.


    He only laughs in reply and like a salve, it soothes away the rough edges between us.


    I cross my arms. “Care to examine your handiwork?”


    With a dramatic bow, he motions for me to go ahead. I use the opportunity to snag his ear and give it a generous yank, then high tail it out of there before vengeance could be wrought. The walk to his target feels short despite being three times the distance out from mine. Like before, we stop to scrutinize it.


    I bend down to see the backstop through the perfect hole in the center. The shots hug each as if he used one very large, shapely bullet.


    “Careful you don’t swallow a fly.”


    I snap my mouth shut and roll my eyes. “Vanny, this is good. Really good.”


    He shrugs.


    “I mean it. Where’d you learn to shoot like this? When Uncle took us shooting you couldn’t even bear to hold a gun, let alone shoot it.”


    “From a man named Henry Miles.”


    I turn to Ivan and like a sheet of ice-cold rain all lightheartedness vanishes, washed away by that one name. Whoever this man was, he meant a lot. Ivan’s sober eyes brim with the remains of emotion long dead, their bones dry and brittle. Cold and indifferent. But behind them, somewhere deep down, settled in the cracks, I glimpse flame.


    Ivan continues, quieter. “Henry taught me to shoot. And fight too. He found me when I woke from the stone and took me in. He’s the reason I am who I am.”


    “He sounds like a good man.”


    Ivan nods, his throat bobbing in a swallow. “He was family.”


    I touch his forearm tentatively. “Where is he now?”


    His eyes harden—a glimpse of fire—but his voice is gentle, “come with me.”


    We walk out of the training grounds and down a side street outside the castle grounds into an open space where the cobblestone path turns to brick circling around and around. In the center stands two enormous walls of black granite. As we approach I see rows of neatly carved names in the dark, flat stone. Hundreds—no, thousands of names.


    We both stare in silence. It is a memorial and the very first name on the list is Henry Miles.


    Dead. That’s where he is now. He’s dead.


    “This city used to be called Haven Day. Henry and a handful of other men turned the small town into a thriving city. A shelter. A sanctuary. A haven from the world’s evils.”


    The way Ivan says evils prickles the hairs on the back of my neck.


    “He died fighting alongside so many others, defending this city.”


    My heart falters with dread as suspicions rise. I want to clamp my hands over my ears and run far away but my feet are rooted to the ground, forcing my attention. It feels like reaching into a deep, dark hole with no idea what crouches on the other side.


    “What happened?”


    “A snake happened. The Red King killed Henry and all the others. That day, these streets ran red with the blood of hundreds of good men.”


    Teeth sink in deep and no amount of yanking will free my hand from this hole now. Did Eli do this? Did he really kill so many? But somehow, what disturbs me more is the man standing beside me. I can now see clearly what hid behind those eyes of cold indifference. Fury. A dragon breathing fire, gnashing jaws of death, thirsting for blood. An animosity so terrifying my body takes a step back before I realize I moved at all.


    Is all this really just a thirst for vengeance? This fire raging so hot, I feel it burning—consuming everything in its path. Is this truly the pain of someone long lost? Taken wrongfully but taken years ago. Or is it something else? Something more?


    Ivan turns to me and I resist the urge to step back again.


    “What happened on your way here, Tasha?”


    My heart races against my anxious mind but I meet him with a level gaze. “I’m not ready to say.”


    His eyes harden. “At least tell me who you traveled with.”


    Now more than ever I know Eli must remain a secret. Ivan would kill him without a second thought. The bloodlust is there. More than there. It flourishes, watered over the years.


    “No.”


    Ivan stiffens as an eerie kind of stillness comes over him. His unflinching gaze pierces through every defense, leaving me cornered. For a moment it seems he knows and I cannot breathe. Will that dragon he harbors inside rear its dreadful head my way? But his eyes waver. Then fall away. My arms wrap around my middle in an attempt to persuade my soul to return to earth.


    After some time I speak, softly, delicately, as a sister to her lost little brother in deep pain. “I know it is hard. But you cannot force a person to share a part of themselves with you; you must wait until they are ready.”


    Just trust me, Ivan. I will find a way to show you Eli is not a threat. Eli is not the same man who put these names on this wall. Ivan just needs to see that.


    “I’m worried for you,” Ivan murmurs.


    “You don’t need to be. I made it here, didn’t I?”


    A lost, little boy stands where the raging dragon paced moments ago. But my words do nothing to comfort him. I see that sea of darkness. He is drowning. Has been for years now. I reach down into the dark waters and slip my arm around his back in a side hug. We stare at the names before us in reverent silence, and slowly, his arm reaches around my shoulders too.