18

“How could you not tell us that your pet could get from Kion to Daanoris in one day?” Zoya was not having a very good morning. We were camped outside Santiang, Daanoris’s capital, to finish our preparations. The azi had long since left; none of us wanted another panic, much less in a potentially hostile city. I could still feel it nearby, making itself at home in a nearby forest.

“It never came up in conversation before. And I’ve never been to Daanoris.” I felt ridiculous changing into an elaborate hua in the middle of nowhere, but there were delegates to consider. The presence of the azi had not gone unnoticed, and a small contingent of ambassadors, diplomats, and three times as many soldiers had arrived barely an hour after the azi’s departure. Though they were most respectful, with Zoya and Shadi fluent in Daanorian to prevent any misunderstandings, they were also very insistent that we meet the emperor immediately.

The look Zoya shot my way was scathing. “Well, there better not be any more surprises. We’re treading on unknown territory, and your daeva isn’t helping matters any. Can you keep a leash on your azi at this distance?”

“Distance doesn’t really mean anything to us.”

“Good. Let Shadi and me do all the talking. Back me up even when it sounds like I don’t know what in Mithra’s ass I’m talking about.” Zoya smoothed her dress. We were all decked out in our best hua, Inessa included, while Kalen, Khalad, and Fox dressed in gray woolen robes. It was odd to see Kalen in clothing that wasn’t black, and it was clear that the Deathseeker didn’t like it.

Zoya was uncharacteristically meticulous, fussing over each of us. “You’re going to have to take the lead at some points, Your Majesty,” she told the princess. “You’re going to be speaking for all of Kion, and it’s necessary to be assertive. Keep Prince Kance’s heartsglass hidden at all times. Have you ever been here before?”

“Once, on a ceremonial visit. Mother did most of the talking.”

“Channel as much of your mother as you’re able to. I’ll be whispering in your ear every now and then, like I’m your closest adviser. The emperor’s own counsel does this frequently, so it won’t seem out of place.” Zoya sighed. “They’ve waited long enough. Let’s get this over with.”

A crowd had gathered by the time we entered the city. As we were led down the streets, the people knelt, touching their foreheads to the ground.

“The emperor has his subjects well trained,” Kalen murmured softly and received a sharp jab in the side from Zoya.

There were certain similarities between Kion and Santiang. The roads here were narrower, but the sharp roofs and curved arches so popular in Ankyo had first taken root here. Kion was constructed with aesthetics in mind, but Santiang was built with utilitarian intent. The walls were made of a mix of wood and concrete. Though roughly hewn and unpainted, all looked capable of lasting for decades. We passed sturdy houses and well-maintained pavements, all in varying shades of gray.

Most of the people wore short robes and sandals, and I saw nothing in their dress to distinguish among different professions and trades. The only magic I could sense were in the hua and zivars we wore—no one we passed wore anything bespelled. Nobody wore heartsglass. It would take considerably more effort to use magic on someone without one, a clear disadvantage for asha.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Likh said nervously.

Zoya wove a rune in the air. It sputtered against her fingers. “Still works,” she said, “but it’s not as strong as it should be.”

“If runic magic isn’t used here, then how did the sleeping Daanorian princess acquire a heartsglass of her own?” Fox asked Khalad.

The forger shrugged. “Master thinks it was a foreigner. I don’t think it was an asha though—that would have caused a stir—and Princess Yansheo wouldn’t have understood its significance. Most Daanorians think heartsglass are nothing more than pretty trinkets.”

“Makes what happened to her even more heartless,” Fox said. “Literally.”

The Daanorian palace was the only spot of color in the city. Pearl-white and luminescent, it was ringed by golden towers and sloped roofs, which shone like ivory. As we approached, I saw the reason why—the exterior was covered in marble slates, polished until they reflected the sunlight. I shuddered to think how hot it would be in the height of summer.

“They have an extensive irrigation system that pipes cold and hot water into the rooms within and can be adjusted according to preference,” Shadi murmured. “It keeps the palace temperate, no matter the weather.”

Something felt wrong the instant we stepped inside. Zoya stiffened, her fingers moving. “Wards,” she whispered.

“Someone warded the whole palace?” I could see the barriers writhing above us, tied in complicated knots. I sketched out Compulsion, but nothing happened. I pressed my hand against the protection stone I wore around my neck but found no response to it either. I tried Scrying, to similar effect. These wards were stronger than those in Aenah’s jail if not even the False runes worked.

“We should have expected this,” Shadi said softly. “Magic is banned in Daanoris. Whoever was responsible was also very thorough. And extremely competent.”

“Master never mentioned these protections though,” Khalad said. “This was added recently.”

Likh stared intently at the ceiling, at the magic beyond our grasp. “They may be more complicated than the wards around Aenah, but they don’t look all that different from the spells we wove into zivar at Chesh’s,” he murmured. “Will this put us at a disadvantage?”

“Not completely.” I reached out with my mind, felt my brother’s response, his comfortable nearness. Moving farther out, I detected faint thoughts from the azi. Our connection was not as strong as I was expecting, but it was assuaging to know our link had not been severed.

The azi was drifting lazily somewhere in the middle of the Swiftsea. I tried to nudge it with my mind, tried to get it to turn around—and found that I couldn’t.

“My bond with Tea is intact,” Fox confirmed.

“And the daeva?” Zoya asked.

“Not quite. I can sense it, but it doesn’t respond to my commands.”

“Isn’t that bad?” Likh asked. “Who’s controlling it while you’re here?”

“It’s not going to attack.”

“How sure can you be? It’s a daeva!”

“I’ve been inside its head. It doesn’t like cities. Unless…someone else controls it.”

Zoya groaned.

Even the floors and walls were made of marble. I could hear the soft rushing of water from somewhere nearby as we were led down large hallways. Servants and courtiers stopped to kneel as we passed, their foreheads pressed to the floor as the people outside had done.

At the end of a very long corridor stood two heavy doors. A band of trumpets sounded, and the doors opened almost instantly.

The throne room was even more ostentatious than the one at Kion. It was a dazzling display of white, from the embossed columns to the large, open windows shaded by soft curtains. Golden banners hung from the ceiling, and my heartsglass wavered when I saw they bore the silhouette of a three-headed yellow dragon, the emperor’s personal crest.

In the wake of such rich displays, Emperor Shifang stood out like an afterthought. He sat on a gilded throne that looked more expensive than all our hua combined. I was curious; common folk were not allowed to look on the emperor’s face, and at the last darashi oyun he attended nearly two years ago, his head had always been veiled.

But the emperor wore no concealment now. He was tall with long black hair; curiously intense dark eyes; and, while on the slim side, was easily one of the handsomest men I’d ever seen, rivaling even Prince Kance. His robes were heavily embroidered and wrapped in gold foil, and jewels adorned his wrists and fingers. Three dragons were carefully embroidered in his robes, entwined so closely that they gave off the appearance of being only one creature.

The emperor of Daanoris rose to his feet, and the people in the room genuflected. I stood uncertainly, unsure if I was expected to follow suit, but Zoya stood straight and proud, and we followed her lead.

The emperor made a speech in Daanorian in a surprisingly firm tone, his eyes never leaving Princess Inessa’s face. Zoya stepped forward and delivered her own speech, her confident voice echoing in the room. We were introduced, and the emperor looked surprised to find that I was the Dark asha.

“How can one so small and harmless looking command such power?” Shadi translated. Clearly, the emperor and I were starting off on the wrong foot.

Khalad was announced as a healer, Fox and Kalen, bodyguards to Inessa and me, respectively. The princess’s movements were likely to be restricted, so Fox and I decided our bond would help us keep in contact without arousing suspicion.

The emperor asked Zoya a question, and she responded, gesturing at me to step forward.

“What are you telling him?” Princess Inessa muttered without visibly moving her lips.

“He talked at length about your beauty and waxed poetic about your eyes, Princess,” Zoya said quietly. “I won’t bother you with the details. But he wants to know more about the azi, considering they patterned their royal crest after it. Speak clearly, Tea, with as little information as you can divulge. The emperor won’t understand us, but some of his advisers will. This is for their benefit.”

We’d already discussed what I would say, but speaking before an audience always made me nervous, and another headache was forming. “I am the keeper of the dragon,” I announced. “We have come from Kion to pay our respects to the emperor of illustrious Daanoris, for whom we hold high esteem. We wish to foster a closer alliance with His Majesty and are pleased to be given the opportunity to do so. We regret that we cannot bring the dragon into the city, for it fears enclosed spaces and always yearns for open sky. But we have summoned it here, as a sign that we wish good fortune upon your kingdom.”

Emperor Shifang smiled. He turned toward his audience and made an announcement in strident tones. A hushed whisper spread among his courtiers and nobles. Zoya remained calm and composed, and the faint blue tinge blooming in her heartsglass was my only warning. She launched into another monologue, addressing the emperor directly, but the royal cut her off with a curt wave of his hand. A dismissal.

“What’s going on, Zoya?” Inessa asked again.

The asha’s face was set. “The emperor has gotten it into his head that you are here to offer yourself in marriage, Your Highness. He said this was the agreement your mother sent him as part of your visit to Daanoris.”

“That’s impossible!” To her credit, Princess Inessa’s face was outwardly serene and smiling, though the words issuing out the side of her mouth were anything but. “I’m already engaged! Surely he knows that!”

“Nobility from other kingdoms are beneath them, Your Highness. They believe that any contracts they make supersede those of other nations. Either your mother agreed to this betrothal or some miscommunication occurred between the envoys.”

“No, this stinks of my mother’s schemes. I was wondering why she was so adamant that I not come with you. He will not be happy if I refuse, will he?”

“We don’t have much choice,” Kalen said tersely. “As long as these wards remain, we can do little. We need to find the source of the magic.”

Emperor Shifang might not have understood us, but I supposed our body language spoke volumes. His eyes turned flinty, and the next words issuing out of his mouth had a threatening air about them.

Immediately, there was a clanking noise as the guards in the throne room lifted their spears, their tips leveled at us.

“So much for diplomacy,” Shadi murmured. “How goes the daeva summoning, Tea?”

“Oblivious to my commands.”

“So I assume asking the daeva to rain down fire is out of the question?”

“No.” Princess Inessa shook her head. “I’d like to scale back on the calamities. We’ve had enough misadventures. We must find the Heartforger, and that will be difficult with the whole country in chaos. The emperor might be fond of your azi, but I suspect his people want nothing to do with it.” She stepped forward. “Emperor Shifang,” she began, her voice strong with none of the anger and frustration she’d expressed only seconds ago. “The First Daughter of Kion agrees to your offer. We hope that this engagement will mark the start of a new and better alliance between Ankyo and Daanoris and that prosperity shall smile down on both our kingdoms with this union.”

She turned toward Zoya, who was staring at her. “Make sure you translate that properly, Zoya.”

“Are you certain about this, Your Highness?”

“As you said, there are undoubtedly a few advisers here who understood me, so there’s no going back. It will give us the freedom to find the Heartforger and several days’ respite while I think of a way to turn him down without insulting another kingdom.”

The guards’ spears retreated. The emperor smiled broadly, the epitome of congeniality once more, and stepped down from his throne to take Princess Inessa’s hands in his own. Another court official, an elderly man with a long beard and a tall hat, scuttled forward and made several more announcements. To this, a younger man began to protest. They argued for a few minutes before the emperor interrupted them both with an irritated wave. The two men bowed and shuffled away, scowling at one another.

Khalad frowned. “That younger man,” he said. “He looks familiar. I believe he knows the master.”

“That’s unusual,” Kalen said. “The younger man wishes to postpone the ceremony to a later date, while the other wants to carry out the king’s orders without delay.”

“You speak Daanorian?” I asked.

“I understand the language better than I speak it. The old man’s name is Tansoong and the other, Baoyi. We might have some trouble with the latter. He believes we’re swindlers out to fleece the king, and he’s ready to send us to the hangman’s block if he has his way.”

There was a certain smugness to the older official’s voice as he announced that the next two weeks would be spent celebrating the engagement, with us as their guests of honor.

Emperor Shifang looked over at us appreciatively and added something else in a suggestive tone I would have understood regardless of language.

“The Daanorians have a longstanding tradition of concubineship,” Zoya said dryly, “and it is not unusual for noble visitors to present the emperor with a few as a show of their appreciation.”

“He wants Princess Inessa to give him a concubine?” Likh asked incredulously. “But he just announced their engagement!”

“It’s the custom,” Shadi confirmed. “The number of wives and concubines is directly proportional to one’s power and influence—or so it is believed. That he is granting Princess Inessa the status of first wife is one of the highest honors in Daanoris, considering she is foreign born. The position is usually restricted to local nobility.”

“I’m flattered,” Inessa said, sounding anything but. “Truly.”

The emperor spoke again. Zoya cleared her throat. “He’s already made the decision apparently. His words translated verbatim are, ‘I am particularly enchanted by the lovely concubine in the beautiful red dress.”

“Me?” Likh squeaked. “I’m not sure I meet the requirements he’s looking for.”

“Do you want to turn him down?” Princess Inessa turned back to the emperor. “Tell him we accept the conditions if he will agree to one of our own.”

Likh blanched. Khalad patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

The emperor looked puzzled but nodded.

“One of my subjects is missing. He was last heard from in Santiang, and I would like to ask the emperor’s leave to search the city for him on the morrow.”

“What is his name?”

Inessa looked to Zoya, who nodded slightly. “His name is Narel.”

Baoyi looked astonished, his mouth falling open. Tansoong burst into a flurry of protests, but the younger man intervened again. They argued for several seconds before the elder withdrew, not looking happy.

“That’s a surprise,” Zoya said. “The other man insists that we be given every assistance to look for him.”

“He’s Master’s friend,” Khalad said. “I’m sure of it now.”

The official continued to speak. Zoya listened closely, and understanding dawned on her face.

“The emperor agrees but not tomorrow—only after the immediate danger is over.”

“What immediate danger?”

“I am beginning to realize why the Daanorians and their emperor are so quick to push forward with this betrothal, Your Highness.”

“Oh, great. What is it this time? Should I be offering him more concubines? Will Kalen suffice instead?”

“This is serious, Princess. Daeva almost never make an appearance in Daanoris, but he says there have been sightings of a gigantic frog-like creature with webbed talons and yellow eyes.”

“The savul,” Fox said bleakly, his hands balling into fists.

“They do not have the means of defeating it,” Zoya explained. “They are very eager to see the Dark asha in action as soon as they can figure out where it is.”