Without Julian to sing a confession out of him, or any whispers newblood or otherwise, an interrogation of Maven Calore will be a two sided battle of wills and deception. Though Montfort has Silvers to spare, none can draw truth through ability alone.
But they can draw it through pain.
"What exactly do you need from me?" Maven says. He moves gracefully, swiveling on his toes to face the rest of the library, where the seven generals of Command, Davidson, six representatives of Montfort, Tyton, Farley, and I remain seated. The fallen king has no cage, but he is obviously trapped. For some reason, his eyes waver on Tyton, looking over the electricon, with his white hair and calmly murderous disposition. "And who is he?"
To my surprise, I hear fear in Maven Calore.
Farley pounces, smelling blood in the water. "You're going to tell us what you did to the Archeon tunnels. Which ones are closed, which ones are open. Which ones you built after you took the throne."
In spite of his predicament, Maven rolls his eyes and laughs. "You people and your tunnels."
The young general is not deterred. "Well?"
"And what do I get out of this?" He leers at her. "A better view from my cell? Not that it would be difficult. I currently have no windows." With oddly twitching hands, he counts off on his fingers. "Better food? Visitors, perhaps?" Maven wavers a little, teeth on edge. His body seems to shiver. Whatever control he maintains is beginning to slip. "A painless death?"
I fight the urge to grab him, if only to keep him still. He reminds me of a rat in a trap, squirming for his life.
"You get the satisfaction, Maven," I force out.
I should be used to the sensation of his eyes running through me. I'm not, and I shudder, his gaze a featherweight on my skin. "Of what?" he murmurs.
Despite the yards between us, Maven feels much too close.
The words taste sour in my mouth. "You know what."
His grin widens, a white knife to taunt us. "If I can't have the throne, neither can he," he says plainly. "Well, that's something, at least." His voice drops, as does his grin. "But not enough."
Behind him, Davidson looks to his side, exchanging a stern glance with Tyton. After a long moment, the white-haired electricon unfolds from his chair. He rises slowly, deliberately, hands loose at each side. Maven turns at the sound, sharp in his motions. His eyes widen.
"Who is he?" Maven asks again. I try to ignore the tremor in his voice.
I raise my chin. "Someone like me."
Tyton drums a hand against his leg, running a single, blinding white spark down his finger.
"But stronger."
Dark lashes flutter against pale cheeks, and Maven's throat bobs.
Davidson draws a piece of paper from his breast pocket.
"As General Farley has already stated, Maven, we need to know exactly which tunnels are open and closed in Archeon. You have two choices. Either you relay us this information, or you do not. However, if you choose the latter, we have other ways of persuasion."
The premier, usually so level headed, curls his lips into the rare, obvious scowl. Again he nods to Tyton, and the electricon takes one shuddering step forward. Maven's eyes fly from the electricon, to Davidson, to me. I hold my breath as he searches my face for my reaction. Trying to gauge whether or not this comes as a surprise. Looking for sympathy, for defense.
But I am not Cal. I set my face, giving him no quarter.
Maven looks away quickly, the twitch returning to his hands.
"We will not tolerate silence either, Maven." Davidson motions to Tyton, who, with a final nod to the premier, moves forward quickly.
"Maybe we can aid in your decision making," Davidson says calmly, "General Farley, if you will."
Farley nods, a smile ghosting across her lips. She wants to see Maven tortured. She rises from her seat beside me and crosses to him, grabbing his arms before he realizes what she's done.
"What - wait!" Maven tries desperately to scramble out of her grasp, but she holds firm, kicking the backs of his legs with one foot. He falls to his knees.
The tension in the room is palpable.
I don't want to see this. Despite all that he has done to me, how he has tortured me in ways he doesn't even know, I still don't want to see this. I despise Maven Calore's every bone, but I know what our lightning can do. It will shred every nerve in his body. I've always wanted him to pay for what he has done, but will I be strong enough to stomach it?
Cal wouldn't be. I can almost picture it now, calling this off right before the first burst of lightning, unable to watch his brother suffer. But I can't do that. This must be done. For the Guard.
Pinned on his knees by Farley, Maven looks at Davidson with the same expression he wore when he was handed over to Cal. His mouth twitches into a smile, but his eyes glisten with tears.
"Do you know what will happen to you when I take back my throne?" he snaps, but it is a pathetic threat. Hardly convincing, even to those who don't know him. He doesn't have his heart in it.
He knows he's been trapped.
Davidson remains calm, trying to be comforting. "Maven, this is an easy choice. If you tell us what we need to know right now, you can leave and return to your cell. No harm done."
Farley tightens her grip on his arms. "Or, you don't tell us now, and we'll make you regret it," she spits.
Maven's next words are reluctant, stumbling. Low, almost inaudible. "I'll tell you what you need to know, but I need something in excha-"
Tyton cuts him off. With a nod from the premier, the electricon kneels in front of Maven and takes his right arm from Farley.
"Unhand-" Maven begins, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. But Tyton doesn't make a sound. He rolls up Maven's sleeve slowly, pressing his powerful fingers to the fallen king's quivering wrist.
It takes all my willpower not to close my eyes. Maven's face goes from pale to ghostly white, his words dying on his lips. The white lightning dances along his forearm innocently, but I know the pain it causes him. Tyton's face remains emotionless as he tightens his grip, his eyes never leaving Maven's face. Maven, on the other hand, looks anywhere but at Tyton and his tortured arm. He gazes at the floor, his breath coming in gasps.
Davidson clears his throat and the white sparks die away instantly, leaving Maven's fingers twitching. He bites his lip, drawing Silverblood, and slowly raises his eyes to meet the premier's.
"Have you changed your mind yet?" Davidson asks pleasantly. His tone gives me chills. But Maven's words freeze my blood.
"Is that all you've got?" Maven says. Despite everything, I wince for him. The Command generals look more disgusted than when he walked in, no mean feat, while the newbloods of Montfort seem more inclined to skin him alive.
A muscle ticks in the premier's cheek and he nods to Tyton. "Don't be so gentle this time."
Maven masks his fear well when Farley releases his arms, but he trembles as Tyton crosses behind him. Farley takes her seat beside me again, wiping her hands on her uniform.
"What is he doing?" I hiss to Farley.
"How would I know. You're the lightning girl," she replies, settling into her seat comfortably like she is watching the First Friday Feats. She, like Kilorn, enjoys this sort of thing. I am starting to feel faint.
Maven looks straight at me as Tyton grips his sides, the thin shirt a worthless shield. I look right back at him. We used to play this game when we were still just two young betrotheds, speaking a secret language across the banquet table, trying not to be the one who looks away first. Now, he pleads with me silently, his cold blue eyes boring into mine, speaking a thousand words. I don't blink. He drops his gaze, setting his teeth.
Tyton's ability hits Maven like a transport. He collapses forward, his shoulders shaking with the electricity coursing through him, creating a white glow around him. His fists are clenched next to him as he struggles to maintain his silence, but a moan of agony slips through his lips.
"Are you ready to relay the information to us, Maven?" Davidson says, not enjoying this. I suppose this isn't his prefered way of getting information. The Montfort representatives don't seem to like it either. They shift uncomfortably in their seats, whispering among themselves. Only the Command generals seem at ease. They have plenty of experience with such things.
When Maven doesn't respond, the premier nods to Tyton. The electricon's neck tenses as he increases the charge slightly, perfectly in control. Sweat drips down Maven's face into his collar. He squeezes his eyes shut.
I remind myself that he would have done the same to any of us, if not worse, if our roles were switched. He would tear the information from our minds with his mother's cousins, or burn it out of us with his own fire. My brand tingles. Yes, he would.
From the floor, Maven mumbles something resembling words. The Command generals murmur in anticipation. Davidson holds up a hand.
"Stop, Tyton. He is speaking."
The lightning ceases as Tyton releases him. Maven collapses to the floor, the aura of sparks fading slowly. Somehow, Tyton has managed to keep the lightning under Maven's skin, not burning away his clothes. We wait patiently as Maven composes himself, clearing his throat and taking shuddering breaths. He looks faint as he stands on wobbling legs.
"When you invade, which you're planning to do," he says, his voice strange and soft, "I'll lead you where you need to go. Which tunnels, which paths. I'll bring your whole army into the city myself, and set you loose on my wretched brother."
The Command Generals nod in approval, but Farley is not so trusting.
"Into a trap, no doubt. Into the teeth of your Cygnet bride—"
"Oh, she'll be there, no doubt," Maven murmurs angrily, "That snake and her mother have been planning to take Norta since the moment she set foot in my kingdom."
"The moment you let her in," I mutter under my breath.
Maven's eyes snap to me, opening his mouth to retort. Davidson clears his throat. "That is enough for now. Guards, please take the prisoner back to his cell.
Maven glares, but for once, there is nothing he can do. The guards grab his arms tightly, making him flinch. He looks slightly green and his knees shake as he walks, but he remains on his feet as he is escorted out of the library.
Don't worry, there's more to come! I'd also love some feedback - constructive criticism is welcome! :)