THE FIVE THRONES

THE LION'S DEN

Evado returned at dawn, and the look on his face told Sunny everything he needed to know.

"He knows," Evado said. "Diego knows you're alive."

Sunny felt his stomach drop. "How?"

"I don't know. But when I told him I'd killed you, he smiled. He said, 'Bring me the body. I want to see it myself.'" Evado paused. "He's never asked for proof before. Not once."

Kaycee cursed. "It's a trap."

"Of course it's a trap." Evado sat down, his face pale. "But it's also our only chance. Diego will be in his private chambers tonight. If we can get past his guards, we can end this."

"Past his guards?" Kaycee laughed. "He has fifty men. Maybe more."

"Not tonight. Tonight, he's meeting with Yasma. Private meeting. No guards inside the room."

Sunny studied him. "How do you know that?"

"Because I'm the one who arranged it. I told him I needed to speak with him alone. About you. About the throne." Evado met his eyes. "He agreed."

Sunny thought about it. It was dangerous. Insanely dangerous. But it was also the best chance they had.

"Alright," he said. "We do it."

---

The plan was simple.

Evado would enter the Spire with Sunny disguised as a prisoner—hands bound, head covered. Diego would be expecting a body. Instead, he would get a living, breathing enemy.

Once inside, Evado would remove the binds. Sunny would attack. If everything went according to plan, Diego would be dead within minutes.

But nothing ever went according to plan.

"You're sure about this?" Kaycee asked.

"No," Sunny said. "But I'm doing it anyway."

"Then I'm coming with you."

"No. You stay here. If something goes wrong, you need to get Zora and Francisco. You need to finish this without me."

Kaycee stared at him. "I'm not letting you die."

"Then I won't die." Sunny smiled. "That's what brothers do, right? We keep each other alive."

Kaycee was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded. "You better come back."

"I will."

---

The Spire District was quiet at night.

Sunny walked beside Evado, his hands bound with rope, his head covered with a burlap sack. He couldn't see anything, but he could hear—the footsteps of guards, the murmur of voices, the distant hum of the city.

"Stay calm," Evado whispered. "We're almost there."

They entered a building. Sunny felt the warmth of torches, the smoothness of polished floors beneath his feet. They walked for what felt like hours, through corridors and up stairs, until finally they stopped.

"Wait here," Evado said.

Sunny stood in silence, his heart pounding. He could hear voices—Evado's, and another man's. Diego.

"You brought him?" Diego asked.

"He's in the hall. Bound and gagged."

"Good. Bring him in."

Footsteps approached. The sack was pulled from Sunny's head.

He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light. The room was large and opulent, filled with silk curtains and golden statues. Diego sat on a throne-like chair, a glass of wine in his hand. He was exactly as Sunny remembered—tall, elegant, with cold eyes that missed nothing.

"The gutter rat," Diego said. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Sunny said nothing. He just stared at the man who had killed his father.

"You look angry," Diego continued. "Good. Anger makes people stupid. Stupid people make mistakes."

"I'm not going to make a mistake."

"We'll see."

Diego gestured, and two guards stepped forward. They grabbed Sunny's arms and forced him to his knees.

"Your father begged before he died," Diego said. "Did you know that? He begged for your life. He said he would do anything if I spared you."

Sunny's blood ran cold. "You're lying."

"I'm not. He was a coward at the end. A broken man." Diego smiled. "And now here you are. Kneeling before me, just like he did."

Sunny's hands clenched into fists. The ropes around his wrists were loose—Evado had made sure of that. He just needed an opening.

"Yasma told me about you," Diego continued. "She said you were special. That you had potential. I should have killed you the moment you arrived in Ember."

"You should have." Sunny looked up at him. "But you didn't. And now it's too late."

He snapped the ropes.

---

Sunny moved faster than he ever had in his life.

He drove his fist into the first guard's throat, then the second's. Both men went down, gasping for air. Sunny grabbed a sword from the wall and turned on Diego.

But Diego was already moving.

He threw his wine glass at Sunny's face and drew his own blade—a thin, elegant sword that gleamed in the torchlight. He was fast, faster than Sunny expected. The blade sliced across Sunny's arm, drawing blood.

"You think you're the first person to try to kill me?" Diego laughed. "I've survived a hundred assassins. What makes you think you're special?"

Sunny attacked. Diego blocked, countered, and drove him back. The older man was skilled—more skilled than anyone Sunny had faced. The blade moved like a living thing, seeking his throat, his heart, his eyes.

Sunny stumbled, and Diego kicked him in the chest. He crashed into a table, sending glass and gold flying.

"Pathetic," Diego said. "Just like your father."

Sunny looked up, rage burning in his chest. He thought about his father. About the night he died. About the blood and the masks and the grief.

He would not die here. He would not let this man win.

He lunged.

---

The fight was brutal.

Sunny gave everything he had—every technique Francisco had taught him, every dirty trick, every ounce of strength. He fought like a man possessed, driving Diego back step by step.

But Diego was better. Always better.

A s***h opened Sunny's chest. Another cut his leg. He was bleeding from a dozen wounds, his vision blurring, his body screaming.

Diego smiled. "This is the end."

He raised his blade for the killing blow.

And then Evado struck.

---

The assassin's blade drove into Diego's back, piercing his heart.

Diego gasped. His eyes went wide with shock. He turned, slowly, to face Evado.

"You," he whispered. "You were loyal."

"I was never loyal." Evado twisted the blade. "I was waiting."

Diego fell.

He hit the ground hard, blood pooling beneath him. His eyes stared at nothing, his mouth open in a silent scream.

Sunny stood there, breathing hard, watching the man who had killed his father die.

It was over. After seven years, it was finally over.

But something felt wrong.

---

Yasma appeared in the doorway.

She stood there, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes unreadable. She looked at Diego's body, then at Sunny.

"You did it," she said.

Sunny turned to face her. "You knew."

"I suspected." She stepped into the room. "Diego was never as clever as he thought. He trusted Evado. That was his mistake."

"Why are you here?"

"I came to make sure you survived." She paused. "And to offer you a deal."

"What kind of deal?"

"The Tiger throne. It's yours by right. But claiming it won't be easy. The other families will fight you. They'll send assassins, armies, everything they have." She smiled. "But if you have me on your side, they won't stand a chance."

Sunny stared at her. "You want to help me?"

"I want to rule alongside you." Yasma stepped closer. "Together, we can destroy the families. We can build something new. Something better."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then you'll die. Alone. And everything you've fought for will be for nothing."

Sunny looked at Diego's body. He thought about his father. About Kaycee. About everything he had lost.

He thought about the throne. The one that was rightfully his.

"Alright," he said. "We do it together."

Yasma smiled. "Good."

---

Kaycee was waiting when Sunny returned to the Deep Market.

"You're alive," Kaycee said.

"I'm alive."

"Diego?"

"Dead."

Kaycee nodded slowly. "It's done, then."

"Not yet." Sunny looked at him. "The families will come for me. They'll send everything they have. But we're going to fight. We're going to win."

Kaycee studied him. "You sound different."

"I feel different." Sunny paused. "For the first time in seven years, I feel like I have a future."

Kaycee smiled. "Then let's build one."