27

Emperor Shifang had not quite fully recovered from his ordeal. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed over as he looked out into his city and saw the remains of the carnage that stretched out before him, from the bodies of the Daanorian soldiers that had not survived the battle to the two hulking daeva out in the field.

He was no longer the perfectly manicured and well-dressed emperor who had greeted us with spears and threats when we first entered his throne room. But for all his faults, his formidable arrogance and assurance of his gods-given right to rule remained very much in evidence, even as he defied Tansoong’s orders to set out and see the daeva for himself, despite all reasonable arguments against his doing so.

The savul was still alive, still breathing despite its mortal injuries as the litter carrying the emperor arrived. With them was everyone else: Zoya and Shadi, Likh and Khalad, and the elder Heartforger. The old man was stooped and exhausted, though the fire was back in his eyes. Khalad supported him, with Likh on the other side. Zoya and Shadi looked just as tired. Princess Inessa walked beside Fox instead of behind the emperor, as should have been customary of all noble Daanorian wives. The silver fox pin she wore on her collar glinted in the morning light. Fox said little, though the pain from his proximity to the savul had not faded.

We had borne away the dead and the dying. The Odalian army had not recovered from the sinkhole Kalen had opened beneath them, and from their stunned expressions and their incredulity, I surmised that most of them had fallen victim to compulsion, though which Faceless was responsible still remained a mystery. The Odalian army was, in fact, not quite the Odalian army after all.

“Hired stooges,” Kalen muttered angrily. “I wondered why I saw no familiar faces among them, why their uniforms were out of order. Bandits and thieves, for the most part. Their leaders were paid handsomely to wave the Odalian flag and march in beat, but no one can tell me their purchaser. We are still hunting for Baoyi and the others.”

“A quick scry into their minds tells me nothing, though I would say Usij is the likely culprit. Holsrath would have sent the army itself.” I still had one last task to accomplish. The Faceless’s body had still been warm to the touch when it had been carted away to be thrown into a nearby ditch for the crows to feast on.

I had drawn out my knife but paused. The logical part of me knew that the savul should die. And yet…

“Do you want me to do it?” Kalen asked quietly.

I shook my head and turned to Fox, still watching me with that same unshakable gaze. “Here’s your revenge,” I told him.

He shook his head. “You avenged me the instant Usij died. This is just another one of his victims.” His eyes searched mine. You don’t want to kill it. But you must, Tea.

Had this been Kion, I might have found another way. But this was Daanorian territory, and the kingdom bayed for blood.

After a moment, I took Kalen’s sword and presented it wordlessly to Shifang. He understood well enough. It was not every day that an emperor could claim a daeva kill, even on a technicality. But he dismissed my paltry weapon and summoned an underling to bring him the sword he so favored, littered with ornate jewels but with no sharpness to speak of. The savul would not die quickly from its blow.

The emperor raised his hand, his sword glittering in the light, while I quietly wove my Raising. “Die,” I whispered softly as Shifang struck, and the savul complied before his blade landed. A faint cheer rose among the soldiers.

“Take this carcass and dispose of it,” the emperor ordered. Tansoong scuttled forward, issuing more commands of his own, and the soldiers converged around the fallen beast, uncertain where to start.

The deed done, the smile faded from the emperor’s face, and he turned toward his wife. Inessa remained standing apart from him, as regal as any queen could be, and I could see the Empress Alyx in her stern face.

“You have brought many things to my kingdom,” the emperor added soberly. “The good and the terrible.”

Inessa inclined her head. “Perhaps our marriage has been looked on with disfavor from the gods.”

“Perhaps that is so.” But yearning lingered in the man’s voice. “Perhaps…perhaps it is still possible—”

Inessa shook her head. “You knew long before today that we are not compatible.”

The emperor’s gaze strayed toward Fox, contempt and anger now evident. “I can make things difficult for the people of Kion,” he said, falling back on threats when honeyed words would no longer work.

I was done with all the intrigue, and the Dark swirled in my blood, enough to desire to offend. “And I can make things difficult for His Majesty.” I glided forward, and the emperor shrunk back, his fear palpable. I hid my smile. Was I no longer the small harmless thing he described at our first meeting? “I am the keeper of the dragon. Harm one hair on your queen’s head, harm any of us here…and we will wreak havoc upon your land until your own citizens shall beat their chest and rue the day you assumed your throne.”

Perhaps that went too far, as I was not in the mood to be cordial. But it had the desired effect; Shifang did not need a heartsglass for me to smell his fright, as sharp and as sweet as the breeze around us.

“What the Dark asha means,” Zoya countered, as soft as syrup where I was as rough as granite, “is that the Faceless’s plans to sow discord will succeed if we are divided against them. We must stand united, Your Majesty, but we must do so by means other than marriage.”

The emperor bowed his head, scowling, but nodded. “That is true. My people…have not looked on this betrothal with favor. But Inessa and I are already wedded.”

“We are not, Your Majesty,” Inessa interrupted. “A binding stipulation of an emperor’s bride is that she must come to her husband’s bed pure and untouched. I…cannot fulfill such a requirement.”

To have Inessa declare this before her husband, much less in front of an audience, was positively scandalous. The emperor drew away from her in horror, her audience gasped, and I hid a grin.

I moderated my tone. “There will be no shame in you declaring the marriage to the First Daughter of Kion annulled. Kion will do nothing in retaliation, and you keep your honor in the eyes of your people. For all intents and purposes, it is us who have been rejected and turned away. But you, in your magnanimity, have offered us a chance to enter into better trade agreements with Kion as a means to bolster our friendship in spite of the failed union.”

The emperor was a proud man, but he was no fool. I saw him taking to the idea the longer he thought. “It is the only way,” he said slowly. “As much as I…appreciate the Princess Inessa, I am not willing to put my affection for her before Daanoris. The magic you wield…it is too much for my kingdom, for any kingdom, to contain. See what terrors you have wrought upon my people because of it. My ancestors have done well to ban the practice.”

He looked up at the azi silhouetted against the sky, ever watchful for new signs of trouble.

“See what terrors you will bring upon Kion,” he added.

• • •

“You and Inessa planned this,” Fox said as my knife sliced into the dead savul’s flesh. At my request, the Daanorians abandoned the attempt to carry the daeva away, and all had retreated to a safe distance, fearful. Zoya and Shadi were in deep conversation with Tansoong. Now that his most hated rival had been dishonored before all, the old man was predisposed to be friendly. Kalen stood a few meters away with his lip curled, watching me, and the heat in his gaze sent a warm glow through me.

“Have you been reading my mind again?”

“No, but when Inessa declared her reasons for annulling the marriage, you barely batted an eye. You were surprised she announced it so publicly but not why she did so to begin with.”

“I’m not a child, Fox. I know very well what your relationship with Inessa meant.”

Fox reddened. “You’ve talked to Inessa about this before. About annulling her marriage.”

I nodded. “It was her idea. She had read up on Daanorian history and knew emperors had strict requirements when it came to choosing their brides. The emperor had already broken one of the cardinal rules by taking a foreign woman to wife. She knew he would be even less willing if she’d broken yet another, especially one that would hurt the emperor’s pride the most.”

“And if he persisted anyway?”

“I would have called on the azi to threaten the city.” I sensed his shock. “Never to harm or kill the people, Fox.”

“Accidents can happen. Given the azi’s size, it would have been inevitable that someone would get hurt.”

“I know, but we needed a last resort. Inessa seemed confident that her plan would work though. That’s why she declared it before his whole court, to force him to save face. Her reputation’s a bit sullied if you measure it by their standards, but it worked.”

“You’re changing, Tea.”

“People change, Fox.”

“The Dark is changing you. And I don’t know if it’s for the better.”

“We’ve come out of this unscathed, with the best possible outcome. Surely it cannot have been for the worse.” I dug my hand into the corpse and brought out the savul’s bezoar. The daeva crumbled into dust, and shouts rose from the Daanorians. Their dread was nearly tangible; I savored it before coming to myself and forcing that pleasure away.

Fox shook his head before walking away. I watched as Inessa saw, gave chase.

“He’s right, Tea,” Kalen said. “The magic is changing you.”

I looked down at my own heartsglass. “You think so?”

“Mykaela always said that drawing in too much of the Dark leads to darkrot, but there are many dangerous stages in between. The Dark makes you more reckless. More inclined to take risks where none should have been taken.”

“I did what I could to survive this, Kalen.”

“I know. I think I understand that the most out of anyone else here.”

“Fox is mad at me.”

“Everyone is, a little bit. That was a chancy thing to do, Tea.”

“Did you expect me to have acted differently?”

“No,” he admitted bluntly. “But you still need someone to tell you when you’re doing something stupid.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I…don’t think. The Dark came too much, too fast, and I felt like I was the most powerful being in the world. Mykkie always said that was my problem. I like magic a little too much.” The princess had caught up to Fox. “And I want you to tell me when I am being impulsive. I don’t know if I’ll listen though. But I’ll need you for that task because Fox’s starting to outgrow me.”

“When you’re constantly in each other’s heads, I imagine that can’t be easy.”

“I want him to have a life of his own away from mine,” I said. “That’s why I wanted to fight the savul, to bury his vengeance. That’s why I wanted to be an asha. Sometimes I think he forgets that.”

“Sometimes I think you forget it too,” Kalen reminded me. “He didn’t need the savul’s death to find his own peace.”

I bowed my head. “Point taken.” The Kion princess reached out to grab Fox’s hand. “You think they’re going to be OK?”

“Inessa has always been a fighter. And if Fox was able to handle coming back from the dead, I’m sure he’s perfectly capable of handling whatever it is he needs to be for Inessa.”

“You make it sound like the second’s harder than the first.”

“With Inessa, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

I looked away, suddenly self-conscious. The adrenaline was wearing off, my desire to wallow in the Dark diminishing somewhat in his presence. “And…us?”

Kalen bent down to kiss me in full view of everyone, ignoring the delighted gasps from Likh and the Well, finally! from Zoya. “We can be whatever we want us to be too.”

• • •

We had overstayed our welcome in Santiang. Though he had agreed to our conditions, Emperor Shifang was a sore loser. With Inessa, he was even more abrupt, so fully encased in his armor of hurt that his arrogance was even more unbearable. Shifang had formally declared the annulment before his courtiers and officials, and Zoya’s foresight ensured that the emperor had no time to present his bride to the citizens. Rumors that the wedding had been interrupted before it could be concluded were encouraged to spread.

“How was it to be the empress of Daanoris for a couple of hours?” Shadi asked Inessa lightly.

“Like a weight around my neck,” the princess admitted sourly. “Once we return to Kion, I would like to spend a few hours yelling at my mother.”

We had one other task to attend to. “Without Princess Yansheo’s heartsglass, we find ourselves facing the same predicament as Mykaela,” Shadi admitted.

“There’s one way to make sure.” Zoya looked at Tansoong. “Have you kept Shaoyun’s remains like I asked?”

The official nodded. “He will have a state funeral, given the circumstances.”

“I’m afraid he has one more duty to the kingdom. Bring his body here.”

Tansoong looked apprehensive. The emperor, no longer bothering to hide his curiosity, barked at him to hurry.

There was not much to retrieve of the unfortunate boy. His meager bones and the scarlet cloth instrumental in identifying him were brought before us, carefully wrapped in a small blanket.

I summoned Raising, and a small stampede broke out as officials and courtiers scrambled out of each other’s way, as far from the corpse as they could get. Emperor Shifang stood his ground, though he looked ready to join his subjects at any moment. The only Daanorian unmoved was Shaoyun himself. He studied his hands with a strange detachedness common in the newly risen and concentrated on me.

“You will not be inconvenienced long,” I told him, with Shadi translating between us, and the dead boy inclined his head in affirmation. “Was Baoyi responsible for Princess Yansheo’s collapse?”

“It was a foreigner,” came the grim reply. “An Odalian. He drew a strange red light from the princess’s chest, and she fell. But then he too shimmered and changed, and I saw it had been Baoyi’s servant all along.”

“Where is the pendant now?”

Slowly, the boy shook his head.

“The princess is ill. We need it to restore her health.”

He shook his head again, but the movement was strangely hesitant.

“Shaoyun.” This time it was Shifang who spoke. Even in death, the emperor held some sway over his subjects. The boy froze in recognition, limbs creaking as he began to kneel, almost from instinct.

“There is no need for that,” the emperor ordered. “This woman speaks the truth. If you care for Princess Yansheo, then where is the pendant?”

The boy’s lips moved. “I snatched it from him before he could work more foul magic. I ran, and they pursued me. The—the pendant filled me up.”

“What does that mean?” I asked Shadi, sure something was lost in the translation.

But the asha was just as puzzled. “I don’t understand it either.”

“The pendant filled me up,” Shaoyun repeated, “and the servant was furious. He…took control of my thoughts, but try as I might, I could not tell him what I had done with it. That was the last thing I remember before the pain. And then nothing.”

“That doesn’t make sense though,” Zoya muttered. “Where did the heartsglass go?”

Khalad was pale, stepping forward. “I am a Heartforger,” he told the corpse. “I don’t know if the title means anything to you, but I can heal the princess. You loved her, didn’t you?”

The corpse closed its eyes and sighed its regret.

“You protected her from one who wished her harm. And now he is dead, and she is safe—but you still possess what is needed to restore her to life. Will you help me?”

The slightest of nods was his answer. Khalad lifted his hand—and plunged it through Shaoyun’s chest. Slowly, he drew it back out—and in his hands was a luminous sphere made of brilliant red light that glittered back at us. “Thank you, Shaoyun,” he said sadly. “Rest easy, knowing that the princess is safe.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on the young Daanorian’s lips. I dissolved the spell, and the undead boy was once again rendered into nothing more than ashes and bones.

“How did you know?” Kalen asked his cousin.

“I didn’t. But few people remember that we use heartscase exactly for this purpose—to keep heartsglass at a fixed point. When you love someone enough, it’s almost instinctive to keep their heartsglass as close to your own heart as possible.” He looked down at the remains and sighed. “I haven’t been in this trade long, but I’m slowly realizing that when it comes to matters of the heart, nearly anything is possible.”

• • •

The old forger and Khalad stood on either side of the sleeping princess’s bed, the former holding out a vial where a thin sliver of thread lay nestled within. The last few weeks had taken their toll on the old man, the strength gone from his heartsglass. He could no longer attend to his duties when we return, and the expression on Khalad’s face told me he knew that. “It should have taken us three days to make,” the old man said. “But Khalad here found a way to shorten the process to six hours. Would never have thought of it either. If you didn’t keep sedating yourself into insensibility, taking out your own memories to fashion heartsglass for every poor soul who asks, imagine all the things you could have done by now.”

That didn’t sound like a compliment, but Khalad beamed like it was. “I’m glad you approve, Master.”

The man laid a hand on his shoulder. “Your father’s a mess of a man and more a fool for rejecting you for prejudices you have no control over,” he said gruffly. “But you’re as close to a son as I’ve ever had, however badly I word it at times, and I don’t think I’d have been any prouder, even if I had one of my own.”

Khalad swallowed hard. “That means a lot to me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

The old man clapped him on the back. “Let’s get to it anyhow. Girl’s been sleeping long enough.” He held up the small container. “We never forget any of the heartsglass we’ve touched,” he said. “I can replicate each of the sleeping noble’s urvan at this point, and I’ll show Khalad every one too, just to be sure.”

“But that also makes you a target all over again,” Princess Inessa told him, troubled. “The Faceless won’t need their heartsglass anymore—all they’ll need to replicate shadowglass is one or the both of you.”

The old forger smiled. “That’s a problem for another day. Khalad?”

Reverently, Khalad placed the shimmering heartsglass on the sleeping girl’s chest, and it shone a bright ball of red and pink hues.

The Heartforger carefully unstoppered the lid, and the new light burned brightly in the room; it was like looking into the sun. I shielded my eyes from the glare, endeavoring to peek through my fingers. Both forgers appeared unaffected. As I watched, Khalad lifted the small yarn-like thread out of its container and extended his hand toward the sleeping princess.

As if seized with a life of its own, the thread drifted slowly toward the girl, landing on the center of her heartsglass—and passed through it like it was slipping through water. The surface of her heart rippled.

Princess Yansheo opened her eyes and noisily sucked in a great big gulp of air. It was done.