Azuma Nari gazed around the throne room of the Jade Cradle palace with a grim sense of satisfaction. The thrill he had experienced so far from subduing his enemies was unparalleled.

Victory for the Nari clan is imminent, he thought, if my men can just keep these battles going in our favor.

“Go,” he commanded his remaining soldiers. “Make sure any Ameyas you find are dead, and if they are not, take their lives!”

Azuma glanced out a high window as the soldiers departed with the clank of armor. He could see soldiers from the Imperial Army charging into the courtyard. These Hiwan soldiers had been located a distance away from the palace, and unlike their brothers had not been affected by the burning of the Dhul powder. And indeed, they plunged into the fray, fighting energetically and with great skill.

A few of the Hiwan soldiers slipped through the outer boundaries and came sprinting into the palace.

At the sight, Azuma turned around to move to the top of the throne room. Here, Sheng Saemon – the former Emperor – lay on his back, his face slack and blood dripping down his side. When the sound of rushing feet sounded in the corridor outside, Azuma dropped to one knee next to the old Emperor, recalling the plan.

This would work, he thought. There was no way it could fail.

When the group of Hiwan soldiers stormed in, Azuma threw his head back with a wail.

“It’s Sheng Saemon!” he cried in dismay. “NO!”

The Hiwan soldiers gasped, as their leader, a young lieutenant, tightened his grip on his sword.

“What has happened here?” he asked crisply.

Azuma conjured up a deep, shuddering breath. “I tried. I fought hard. I tried to save him, but I failed!”

The soldiers approached, working their way slowly over the bodies strewn across the throne room.

“Emperor?” the lieutenant whispered as he got close to the Sheng.

Azuma forced himself to cradle Saemon’s head with his palms.

“I did everything to protect him against the Ameyas. They did this to us, can’t you see? They’ve betrayed all of us, and killed the Emperor. My people, my loyal soldiers, died trying to stop them. Look at all their dead bodies in here!”

The lieutenant scanned the room, his eyes taking in the Nari, Ameyan, and Hiwan dead. “You are here alone?” he asked carefully.

“Yes. Once they killed the Emperor, I destroyed the rest of them. I . . . I couldn’t control my rage.” He gritted his teeth. “They killed my Emperor, and for that they paid with their lives.”

Azuma gently set Saemon’s head down, and began to sniffle, as if attempting to hold back his tears. A thrill ran through him when he saw the rage start flickering in the lieutenant’s eyes.

It was working. Just as planned.

The lieutenant whirled around, taking it all in. “Nari,” the lieutenant whispered, nudging a nearby body. “Hiwan over here. And Ameya. So many dead.”

“My men fought bravely. You see how many soldiers from the Ameya clan we killed?” He looked away, and screwed his eyes screwed shut. “But still we couldn’t save the Emperor.”

One of the soldiers – a boy not older than seventeen – suddenly dropped to his knees. He reached out and placed a hand on the body of a Hiwan whose throat had been slit. A sob bubbled up from deep within his chest. “Brother!” he cried. “They killed my brother!”

“This was a bloodbath,” the lieutenant hissed. “They ambushed us, and our Emperor.”

Azuma nodded. “Yes.”

The young Hiwan who cradled his fallen brother’s head raised a fist to the sky and declared with clenched teeth, “I will have my revenge!”

The Hiwan soldiers began to murmur aloud.

“Ameya,” one said bitterly.

“Revenge,” demanded another.

“We will fight.”

“They will not get away with this.”

“Sir! Over here!” one of the soldiers called out suddenly.

The lieutenant perked up. “What is it?”

Two Hiwan soldiers stood against the far wall, beckoning with a wave. “Saten Azuma. Your sister . . . Nishu Yuna is over here.”

Azuma exchanged a glance with the lieutenant. They picked their way through the field of bodies in the throne room. Yuna lay on the ground, robes torn. She curled in a ball, her back against the wall and her face covered by her hands. Her entire body shook.

“Yuna?” he questioned gently as he crouched next to her.

She jerked away from him with a cry. “No! No, don’t hurt me. Don’t rape me!”

“Yuna, it’s me. Azuma. Your brother. I’m here to help you. You will not be harmed. Can you tell me what happened?”

Slowly, she peeled her hands away from her face, and peered up at her brother. “Azuma?” she asked in a voice that quavered.

“Yes, Yuna. You’re safe.”

“T-the Ameyas. Th-they tried to . . .” She swallowed. Tears filled her eyes. “They tried to rape me. I escaped. Just barely. I-If the Nari and Hiwan clans hadn’t shown up to fight the Ameyas, they would have – ”

She turned away. Azuma embraced her fiercely as she trembled against him. The sound of running footsteps filled the air. Chancellor Bramen Qin and a contingent of Nari soldiers rushed into the room.

“By the gods,” Bramen muttered, a hand to his pale cheek. “What has happened to Yuna?”

“The Ameya clan did this,” the lieutenant said. “They tried to harm Yuna, murdered Nari and Hiwan guards, and . . ..” He choked and pointed across the room with his sword, which shook slightly. “They killed the Emperor.”

The Nari clan exploded into curses and yells. They advanced into the room, looking for their fallen comrades.

“Pull our soldiers away from the Ameya scum,” Bramen commanded. “Close their eyes. Our men shall be honored while we burn the or leave them for the vultures.”

Upon hearing these words, Azuma swallowed a cheer. Now was not the time to celebrate their plan. Yuna was pulling her role off beautifully – he must do the same.

Bramen Qin’s face became splotchy with rage as Yuna slowly stood up. She smiled a tremulous thank you when a Hiwan soldier reached out a hand to help her. She somberly adjusted her tattered robes, eyes averted. A cry came from the doorway. Azuma glanced over to see Ren standing near the door, clutching at the frame.

Yuna rushed to her side, taking her into her arms. “Ren. It’s horrifying.”

“What happened?” Ren whispered.

“The Ameya clan attacked. The Hiwans and the Naris fought bravely against the traitors.” She lowered her gaze, swallowing heavily. “They tried to rape me. And they killed the Emperor. They tried to kill our brother, but like a true leader, he was too strong. Once the Emperor died, Azuma killed all the rest of the traitors in this room.”

“Did they do this alone?” someone called.

“No,” Yuna said, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. They must have had aid somehow.”

“We’ll find them!” Bramen shouted, lifting one fist. “We will find them and destroy them for what they’ve done!”

“Saten Azuma?”

Azuma spun around to find a Hiwan servant right behind him. Blood marred the bottom edge of his robe, staining his shoes. Like the rest of those surrounding him, he trembled slightly.

“Yes?”

“The Hiwan Chancellor, Najeem, is dead. We just found him in his room.”

Azuma’s shoulders slumped. Yuna shook her head, murmuring quietly, “Those bloodthirsty heathens.”

A ripple moved through the amassed crowd. Azuma nodded once. “Thank you for letting me know. Najeem was an honest and fair man. He will be greatly mourned, along with our beloved Emperor.”

“What now?” a Hiwan soldier called. “The Chancellor is supposed to rule if one of our clan leaders die. The Emperor is dead. Who will rule the Hiwan clan?”

As a chorus of panicked voices broke out, Azuma raised both of his arms in a request for silence. “Everybody, please. We must be calm.”

“Panic will only divide us,” Yuna said. “We must be more united than ever before. The Nari and the Hiwan clans have been lied to and betrayed. Together we can fight if we trust one another.”

“Justice will take its course,” Azuma declared.

These words calmed the crowd that had gathered. Yuna now reached over and laid a hand on Azuma’s arm. “Azuma, your face. There’s a deep cut on your forehead that needs attention.”

“How can I think of a mere cut when there are so many more important things? No. I will deal with my scratches later. Let us check the rest of the castle.”

A quiet murmur of approval rolled through the crowd.

“Those of you who are injured, follow me,” Yuna said. “We’ll find you medical assistance immediately. Then we can start to plan for the proper burials for our brave soldiers, and rid the palace of the stink of the Ameyas’ betrayal.”

Those congregated shuffled away. Azuma caught sight of something far more strange: Tieng Shorguz of the Uma clan and Gavan Jenzud of the Horalu speaking quietly amongst themselves.

Once they saw Azuma’s sharp gaze on them, they silenced with a dutiful nod.

* * *

Two hours later, Yuna, clad in a clean robe, pressed a wet piece of cloth to Azuma’s forehead. He hissed and reared back, glaring at her.

“Ouch!” he complained.

“Don’t be a child. I have to clean it.”

He braced himself as she touched the alcohol-soaked rag to the skin again. This time it only lightly burned.

Azuma welcome the near silence in his guest room in the Imperial Palace rang with a welcome silence. No more chattering, frightened people. No more annoying questions and fits of crying. Just blessed, blessed silence.

A moment later, Yuna grabbed a long strip of linen and started to wrap it around Azuma’s head, covering the open gash on his forehead. Meanwhile, Chancellor Bramen Qin simply sat at the end of Azuma’s bed, staring at the floor.

Yuna caught Azuma’s eye and smiled. He grinned back, glancing to the door.

No shadow stood next to it, indicating the three of them had total privacy.

“So,” Azuma drawled. “It’s done, is it not? We’ve done well!”

Bramen shifted as he gave him a slight frown. “Yes, my Saten, you have done well, just as I expected. But you should really focus on your own health, no? You say the wounds aren’t bad, but I can see them. I don’t want you to fall sick with fever and infection. Perhaps it’s time for you to rest?”

Azuma scoffed, the high from today’s battle coursing through his veins.

He needed to rest? No. He needed to conquer mountains and destroy more enemies. He needed to continue to vanquish and show his strength. If he did, his father couldn’t fail to approve of him!

“I don’t need rest, Chancellor. I’m strong enough to move mountains. To defeat any army. Give me a sword, and I will give you freedom.”

Yuna rolled her eyes. “Calm down, Azuma. This is just the first part of the plan. Don’t forget that more is coming. There are plenty of more places for us to fail.”

“Uh, My Saten and My Nishu?” Bramen asked, gaining his feet. He smiled nervously. “I would never want to alter the way you feel in this moment of victory, but . . .” He swallowed heavily. “I didn’t know when, uh, exactly, to say this, but . . .”

Yuna shot him a cold glare. “Out with it, Bramen.”

“Prince Isao has escaped. One of the men I sent to inspect his room found our four soldiers dead on the ground there, and no Isao in sight.”

Azuma shot to his feet. “What?” he bellowed. “How can a young, sheltered, incompetent prince get past trained soldiers?”

“Help. He must have had help,” Yuna declared, folding her arms against her chest. Her eyes narrowed. “By someone clever enough to anticipate what we would do.”

“And our dead soldiers?” Azuma demanded. “What about that? We can’t just have two Nari soldiers dead in the missing Prince’s room!” he sputtered.

Bramen held out a hand. “Not to fear, my Kamandar. My servants have already removed their bodies. There is no way any attempt on his life can be traced back to our clan.”

Azuma’s shoulders relaxed back. “It is fortunate we can always rely on your wisdom and foresight, Chancellor. Thank you.”

“We have to find Isao immediately,” Yuna said.

Azuma flashed her a grin. “Leave that to me. I have a few ideas. Let us talk while we have some wine. All of us are tense – not surprisingly so – and need to relax before we continue pulling off our beautiful plan.”

He strode across the room, collecting up three wine glasses with one hand and yanking a bottle out from a cupboard with another.

As Azuma poured the rich wine glugged into the glasses, Bramen Qin nodded in appreciation. Azuma’s muscles loosened a little, as he eagerly anticipated the effects of the sweet drink.

“I’m sure your father and Nishu Milwan will be pleased with what you’ve done tonight,” the Chancellor commented.

“You know my only goal is to make my father proud,” Azuma corrected, sipping at the heady wine. “Nishu Milwan can die, for all I care. She’s not my mother. I don’t care what she thinks.”

“Don’t tell Ren that’s what you think,” Yuna murmured, sipping her own wine.

“I see,” Bramen murmured as he peered at Azuma over the rim of his wine glass. “You may not be able to accept Nishu Milwan as a member of the Nari clan, but she is your father’s wife now, Saten Azuma. Saten Danjuro would not be happy if he heard you disrespecting her name.”

“Silence,” Azuma snapped, heat coursing through his veins. “Learn your place, old man.”

“Stop it, both of you, ” Yuna hissed. “Bramen, our family business is none of yours. Azuma, calm your temper. The most important thing right now is to track down the Prince and reassure Ren. She’s fragile and – “

“Ren, Ren, Ren,” Azuma muttered, mocking Yuna. The feeling of wrath only spread throughout in his chest, facilitated by the large amount of the wine he’d downed in just two gulps. “I’m so tired of hearing about that stupid, half-blood girl. She’s as unworthy as her mother, and I’m getting tired of taking care of her. She’s a burden, and only a stepsister at that. I don’t understand how you can tolerate even a minute of time in her company.”

Yuna advanced on Azuma until she stood face-to-face, glaring into his eyes. She took hold of a piece of his golden Nari armor – which Azuma still couldn’t bring himself to remove – and jerked him close.

“Maybe you’ve forgotten something, brother,” she drawled in a threatening tone. “We need Ren. She’s the key for everything to work. Her safety and emotional wellbeing is the main priority right now. Do you understand?”

He lost himself in her raging, intense eyes for a moment before he nodded crisply once.

“Yes. I understand. And you’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for reminding me.”

“You’re still impulsive as ever,” she said.

“I’m sorry. I do get carried away.”

“Yuna, you are always intelligent and forward-looking,” Bramen muttered, raising his glass to her. He took another long sip, closing his eyes as he savored the flavor.

“I’m glad we understand one another, Azuma,” she said, stepping back. But her gaze still bored into his eyes, as if Yuna wanted to take over his very soul. “However, don’t you dare to interrupt me ever again.”

A chill rippled through Azuma at her words, but before he could respond, a knocking at the door interrupted their conversation.

Yuna whirled around. “You may come in, ” she ordered.

The door cracked open, admitting a slender girl with long hair. She kept her head bowed as she spoke, her voice trembling slightly.

“Saten Azuma, Nishu Yuna, Chancellor Bramen. I-I have the most…unfortunate duty to tell you . . .”

“Speak up,” Azuma barked. “We can’t hear you.”

The girl drew in a deep breath. “Yes, Saten Azuma. I . . . I have been sent to inform you that another servant went into your parents’ quarters, and . . .” She blinked, then shrunk back a step. “Forgive me, Saten and Nishu. Your parents have been killed.”

Azuma felt the shock all the way from his fingers down to his ankles. The air left his lungs, and he dropped his glass. He barely heard the crash as it landed, spilling wine over his feet.

“What?” he whispered.

“Are you certain?” Yuna asked just as quietly. “You’re absolutely certain they’re gone?”

Azuma stared at the servant girl, as if it would will his father back to life.

This couldn’t be true. Danjuro was a strong leader, a mighty man. Men like Danjuro didn’t die…

“It is certain, Nishu Yuna.”

Yuna paled. She closed her eyes, nodded once, and murmured, “You may go.”

The girl retreated with unusual speed, closing the door behind her.

Bramen Qin stared at the doorway, blinking and speechless.

“Azuma,” Yuna said, setting a hand on his arm. “You must sit down. You’ve had another shock after a very long day. I fear for your health now above all other times.”

“Yuna,” he whispered, feeling as if the sound came from someone else. “He – he can’t be dead. He . . . they were protected and – ”

“Sit. Down.”

Yuna pushed her brother down onto a chest at the end of the bed. He obeyed, his knees collapsing beneath him. All the vivacity infusing his veins from their certain win faded and he slumped over, feeling weary all the way down to his bones. A deep fog permeated his mind, and

the world began to spin.

“Take a breath, Azuma,” Yuna said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Breathe.”

It wasn’t until her sharp yet gentle command broke through the haze in his mind that Azuma realized he’d been holding his breath. He let out it.

“I– I must see them,” he managed to gasp.

“I agree,” Bramen said, moving next to him. “We must go. Immediately.”

“Come,” Yuna said, taking Azuma’s arm. “We go together.”

Azuma didn’t remember the three of them navigating the halls, twisting their way through corridors strewn with dead bodies.

“Here,” Yuna finally murmured, directing him with a squeeze on his elbow.

Azuma paused at the doorway leading to his parents’ room.

Two servants inside were kneeling, scrubbing at puddles of blood on the floor. Azuma walked, stiff-legged, to his father’s bed. He arrived at the foot of it, only to see his father on the mattress.

His father stared at the ceiling, glassy-eyed in death. His neck had been filleted open, and there was a knife sticking out of his chest. The curved, dagger-like blade had a handle covered in chunks of turtle shell.

His stepmother lay on her stomach, her head kinked at an unnatural angle. The spread of her lips made it appear that she was screaming even in death. As if breaking Nishu Milwan’s neck wasn’t enough, her tormentor had slashed her wrists as well, so that her blood had drained out.

Azuma only spared Nishu Milwan a cursory glance, then trained his gaze back on his father.

Danjuro. He had always been stronger than lions. It was Danjuro who made the Nari clan the powerful clan it had been.

The deep grief that rippled through Azuma’s bod was paralyzing and frightening.

Azuma focused his eyes on the blade sticking out of Danjuro’s chest. He knew that blade. He’d seen it before.

Yuna crouched next to their father, her face reflecting a pain that was similar in intensity to Azuma’s.

“There are initials on it,” she murmured, peering close. “N. A.”

She paled and met Azuma’s gaze.

“Nobu Ameya. Kenzo’s second son,” Azuma said.

The blade in his father’s chest belonged to Nobu! There was no disputing the owner of this elaborate blade. Such fine workmanship had to be owned by someone high in a Clan.

Incredible amounts of intense rage boiled in his veins.

More blood had been spilled than he’d been aware of. Worse, he had rejoiced while his father lay dead.

“Azuma,” Yuna whispered, pressing a hand into his arm. “Calm yourself. The time for retribution will come, but that time is not right now. We must be patient.”

A knock sounded on the door again. Yuna let out a long sigh.

“Yes?”

Another servant stepped into the room.

“Nishu Yuna. Saten Azuma. I have been sent to tell you that Kenzo Ameya has been found dead, in his room.”

Azuma snorted. One less Ameya to worry about.

“How did he die?” Yuna asked.

“He was found naked on his bed. He had been stabbed with something. His third wife, Shima, was also found dead in the adjoining room.”

“Thank you,” Yuna murmured. “This has been a bloody night, indeed.” She gave a crisp nod, indicating her dismissal of the servant.

“Can’t say I’m sorry for that one,” Azuma hissed.

The news didn’t surprise him; he was aware Yuna had long plotted Kenzo’s death. Still, it gave him some comfort to know the strength of her execution and follow-through.

A flicker of movement caught his eyes. Azuma jerked his head up to see Matsu Maeba, the Falconer of the Haku clan, making his way through the room.

“Matsu,” Azuma said, his throat raw. “What do your sharp eyes see?”

The Falconer crouched near Danjuro’s body, his sharp eyes constantly moving, analyzing, assessing. Finally Matsu straightened, and motioned at the bed.

“I notice something on their bed,” he said.

“What is it?”

“A brilliant green shell, probably one belonging to the Ameya soldiers. One doesn’t need to be perceptive to know that’s an Ameya dagger in your father’s chest.”

So this is it, Azuma thought, dumbfounded. His acting hadn’t been fake after all. The Ameyas really had betrayed them. Why else would someone kill Danjuro and his whore of a wife?

He whirled around. “I will kill all of them! I’ll slit all their throats and let them – ”

“Of course you will,” Yuna soothed, grabbing his wrist. She pulled on it, forcing him to look at her. “But not at the expense of greater things.”

The shining intensity in her brilliant violet eyes calmed him a bit.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“As for Ren,” Yuna said, leaning back to allow more space between them, “we must tell her very carefully. She was fond of our father. She’s suffered enough.”

“And her new husband is missing,” Azuma snapped.

Yuna sighed. “That too. I fear someone has told her without me knowing. I need to be there to support her.”

She spun around to address the rest of those present in the room, glancing from Bramen to Matsu to the weeping maids still scrubbing the floor clean of blood.

“Please,” Yuna said in a soft voice. “Please, everyone, get some rest. It has been a horrible day that cannot be comprehended in such a short time. Retreat to your rooms, all. Tomorrow we will send the guests back home, and the Nari and Hiwan clans will come together to talk about the future of the Empire.”

The two maids gratefully relinquished their brushes in the buckets now frothing with pink bubbles.

Yuna sent them a gentle, weary smile. “Go,” she urged.

The maids disappeared off into the hall as Matsu stepped forward.

“Nishu Yuna, your grace under pressure knows no bounds.”

“We do the best we can in tragedy.”

He nodded to them and slipped out of the room.

“Bramen,” Yuna said, “get some rest. You are now our leader, and you need to keep up your strength. I will care for Azuma and Ren tonight.”

Bramen nodded, seeming relieved. “One word of caution to the both of you as you proceed.” He met both of their gazes. “Let someone else find Isao. Clearly there are alliances and machinations in place we knew nothing about. Discretion is critical. ”

“We shall consider this,” Yuna said, nodding her head.

“You know of whom I speak of, Azuma,” Bramen continued.

Azuma nodded, his throat thickening. He knew exactly of whom Bramen spoke, and his mind had already touched there.

Bramen sent one last, uneasy glance out the window. “Did you see the bloody moon in the sky tonight? The gods are crying. Or maybe they’re simply helping us find the Prince so we can kill him.”

With that, he departed the room.

Azuma watched him go, grateful for Yuna’s protective presence.

“Come, brother. It’s safe in my room.”

* * *

“Yuna, this is bad.”

“It’s horrible, but not yet out of control.”

Azuma paced back and forth across Yuna’s room. “But the Ameyas really did betray us. Now that my father is dead, everything changes. Once one thing fails, the rest follows. Always.”

“You’re trying to predict the future. There is much still under our control.”

He drove a hand through his hair. “I don’t like this.”

“How are you going to find Isao? Focus on that. Having something to do will make you feel better.”

He paused at the window, glancing out at the deep blackness of the city. The raging fires had become smoldering coals now, flickering reddish in the late hours. “Yes,” he murmured. “Isao. You know whom I didn’t see amongst the dead? Khalem.”

Yuna’s eyes widened. She rounded her lips. “Oh. Yes. I see.”

“He’s with him; I know it. How else would inexperienced Isao make it out alive? Khalem must be with him. I want to hire two of the best mercenaries to go after Isao. We should not follow them ourselves.”

Yuna let out a sigh. “I agree.”

“I know of two. They’re called, ‘the Twins.’ As soon as we finish here, I’ll send an immediate messenger to them. If the messenger leaves now, the Twins can be here in the morning. They live not too far away in a hut in the nation of Sunsan. Their services are expensive, but well worth the price.”

“We will pay whatever it takes to get rid of the Isao problem,” Yuna concurred.

Azuma felt rage build up inside as he pictured his father’s lifeless body on the bed.

“Yes,” he murmured. “Whatever it takes.”