Granted, he’d mucked up the first one, but he was older and wiser now. He wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. Besides, he was the high priest of Quill. That he had made it to this point must mean something. Yet the general had become extremely standoffish with Aaron now that he’d gotten the oil he needed. And his commanding Aaron to hide in the secured palace until it was all over seemed especially unfair. What was the general planning to do—keep him locked away, and then come and fetch him once the Quillitary had taken ownership of the mansion?
With a jolt of fear, Aaron froze in his work. He looked up, and then all around, a sort of dazed expression on his face. “Wait a second,” he muttered. Did the general have a secret sinister plan of his own? What if General Blair moved into the mansion and then decided he didn’t want to share it with anybody?
Aaron left the contraption mid-press, stumbled from the room, and ran up the stairs, all the way up to Liam’s quarters at the very top of the palace, and pounded on the door.
“Good heavens!” Liam shouted. “What’s the matter?” No one had ever come up to his room before, so it was rather startling.
Aaron flung open the door. “General Blair is working against us, Liam. I’ve figured it out. He’s using me for the oil, and when he attacks, he’s going to take over Artimé and keep everything for himself!”
Liam’s jaw dropped. “What?”
“He wants the mansion, you fool! Don’t you see?”
Liam rose from his desk, where the sack of components rested. “High Priest, I’m afraid I don’t see. What in Quill are you talking about?”
Aaron’s eyes blazed. “I’m talking about the general’s dismissive nature once I gave him the oil. Did you notice it? He wouldn’t let me participate in the discussion, and he basically told me I’m to board up the palace and wait inside for him to win the battle. Didn’t you hear that? Weren’t you there?”
“Of course I was there,” Liam said. He was really getting irritated with the way Aaron spoke to him. He bit his tongue, remembering Eva, and said smoothly, “I think that General Blair is just trying to hold up his end of the bargain. You provided him with the oil, and now he will do his part by attacking Artimé and taking it over on behalf of Quill.”
Aaron shook his head. “No, Liam. You don’t get it. I have made mistakes before, but I’m not going to make another one, and General Blair is a mistake! He’s trying to keep me out of the way so he can dethrone Alex and take over Artimé. He’s trying to steal what is rightfully mine!”
Liam stared.
Aaron closed his lips. He held Liam’s gaze, and then grew pale. “I mean . . .” He faltered.
It was like a waterfall of understanding pouring over Liam. He stood quietly as the pieces fell into place in his mind—things he’d failed to grasp all this time. His eyes darted to the bag of useless components that Meghan had given him to trick Aaron, and then he looked at the high priest once more, seeing him for what he was: a pathetic, regretful young man who couldn’t seem to figure out for himself who he was and what he truly wanted.
“Rightfully yours?” Liam asked softly.
“That’s not what I meant!” Aaron said.
“Do you wish you were an Unwanted?” Liam asked, just as softly as before.
“No!” cried Aaron. “That’s not what I meant at all!”
“Well then, what did you mean?” Liam asked, raising his voice and forgetting himself.
The two stood facing each other in the tiny, stuffy room, Aaron’s expression finally betraying years of agony, and Liam’s face blanching with the fear of having gone too far. Accusing the high priest of wishing to be an Unwanted was probably the worst of all the infractions in Quill.
After an excruciating moment, Liam spoke to try to save the treacherous walls from crumbling further. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I believe I misspoke. Did you instead mean that as the high priest of Quill, you are the rightful ruler of the entire island and all of its parts?”
The blood in Aaron’s body began to pump once more. A shadow passed over his face, and he dropped his gaze and let out a breath. “Yes, of course,” he said, his voice shaking and straining to find its usual patronizing tone. “How dare you assume anything else?”
Liam’s chest tightened. “I-I’m so very sorry, High Priest.”
Aaron straightened up and stood tall, ignoring his trembling limbs and recovering his high-priestly air. He pointed to the sack of components on Liam’s desk. “I’m ready for the components now. I assume I’ll find the verbal incantations and all instructions inside?”
“Yes.” Liam dropped his gaze to the floor, knowing what had to be coming next. There was no way, with Aaron’s temper, that Liam would spend another night in the palace. It was off to the Ancients Sector for him once more. Only this time, he wouldn’t live past dawn to tell about it.
“Very well, then.” Aaron reached past Liam to pick up the sack.
Liam flinched, waiting for the command.
Aaron retreated to the doorway and then paused, looking back over his shoulder. “I’ll let you know if I have any questions about these,” he said. He turned away once more and closed the door behind him.
When he heard the click of the door, Liam looked up.
He was still alive. For the moment, at least. And with life, a tiny ray of hope.