by Amber Argyle
“No,” Han agreed.
“Well, Father would be pleased that after all this trouble, at least one of us can bring a little power into our line.”
“Don’t,” Han warned.
They were silent. “I’m dying, Han.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry Father lost his temper. I’m sorry he scarred your face. He was afraid and he was angry.”
Han didn’t reply.
“Brother, swear to save Harshen,” Chen said clearly, “no matter what it takes. Our people deserve our protection. And if you can, find a way to make the witches pay.”
“I swear,” Han said, his voice breaking.
Chen seemed to have lost all his strength. “Don’t come back here. You can’t risk it . . . and to be honest, I don’t want to see you or Lilette ever again.”
Han came from behind the curtain a moment later. His gaze found hers, and his face changed. He knew she’d heard, had accepted it and moved on. He glanced at the silk screen windows. “We need to head back.”
Lang rose from his place on the cushions beside Ko. She embraced Lilette and Han once more.
Lilette looked at Salfe, at a loss for what to say or do. “If things had been different, if I had been ready . . .” She gave a helpless shrug.
One side of his mouth crooked up, a shadow of his former cocky manner. “Really, Li. You’re married now. You shouldn’t be pining after me.”
She nearly choked on her laughter. At least Salfe hadn’t changed. She shook her head as she left.
Han and Lang were waiting for her outside. Han searched her face. “He’s the one who gave you the comb you always carry?”
She nodded. “Out of everyone on the island, he is the only one who tried to help me.”
Han moved to her side and guided her into the street, Lang beside him. “Then we both owe him a debt.”
Lilette let out a silent sigh of relief.
“Lilette and I are too wrapped up in this to escape,” Han said to Lang. “But you’re not. I want you to get my mother out of Harshen. As far away from the islands and the witches as you can.”
Lilette rested a hand on his arm. “He can’t. We need him.”
Han took a deep breath and stared up into the night sky. “Lilette . . .”
“The world needs to know what Merlay has done.” Lilette told them her plan.
When she finished, Han dropped his head in defeat. “Merlay is the most powerful person alive. We’ll have to be careful.”
Lilette met Lang’s gaze. “You’re the only one I can trust with this.” She gave a wry smile, seeing as how she’d threatened to have him arrested a short time ago.
After a moment, Lang nodded curtly. “They destroyed our city—killed nearly everyone I know. I will do what I can, but after that I’m leaving.”
For a time, there was only the sound of their light steps. Han cleared his throat. “Thank you, for saving both of them.”
Lang looked into the night. “I wish I could say my motivation for helping your brother was kindness, but I only wanted him to live long enough to understand why the witches had destroyed us. I never could have imagined the real reasons.”
Han hung back to walk beside Lilette. “I’m not sorry. Not about us.”
Lilette stepped a little closer to him, and their shoulders brushed. The comfort in that simple touch strengthened her resolve. “Nor am I.”
Chapter 35
I had no idea what they planned or what they had seen. It pains me that Lilette didn’t trust me enough to share the truth, but I can’t fault her logic. ~Jolin
Lilette woke in the predawn light. She was still tired, but sleep was already leagues away. She rolled over and found Han asleep beside her. She’d hardly seen him in the last three days. He’d been too busy gathering up every remaining elite or imperial soldier he could find. The ones who’d been willing to swear allegiance to Lilette had been drafted into her service. She didn’t completely trust them—after all, they’d helped hold her captive, had fought against her. But Han trusted them to do what was best for Harshen. Right now, they all had the same enemy. That would have to be good enough.
Han looked younger, almost boyish, his long lashes brushing against the skin under his eyes. He was a huge man. She liked that about him. Liked that he was strong and solid—like the earth. Here was someone she could sink roots into, someone who would stand strong and steady as the winds beat against her.
As if sensing her gaze, he rolled over and gathered her into his arms. She traced the line of his scar—strangely enough, the feel of it beneath her fingers was comforting. He was strong and good no matter the consequences—he wore the proof of it on his face. “Stop worrying,” he said, still not opening his eyes. “We’ve done everything we can.”
Lilette sighed. In three days of searching, Han and Lang had only rounded up two people who’d survived that night at the palace. If eunuchs weren’t so easy to spot, they probably wouldn’t have found any witnesses. It had been harder still to convince the eunuchs to share what they’d seen. They had only agreed after Lilette promised to expel the witches responsible from Harshen. She didn’t fail to notice they didn’t really consider her one of the keepers. And for once, she was glad.
Lang had tucked the two witnesses away and promised to bring them to her when it was time. Arranging everything had been difficult. But the hardest part for Lilette was sitting at the same table as Merlay and not strangling her with her bare hands.
Lilette propped her head up on one hand. “We could just poison Merlay and be done with it.” It wasn’t the first time she’d suggested it.
Han sighed. “No. This is about more than just us. This is about the rot inside the witches that allowed this kind of thing to fester. It’s about never letting something like this happen again.” He growled and pushed her onto her back. “And now that I’m irrevocably awake, we may as well make good use of our time.” He kissed her neck, and it wasn’t long before Lilette had forgotten all about their schemes.
***
Hidden behind a curtain, Lilette watched the crowd filling the courtyard. While Han and Lang had been rounding up witnesses and elite, Merlay and the guardians had spent the last three days gathering up all the island leaders so they could swear fealty to her. They, along with the people of Rinnish, filled the courtyard by the hundreds.
Judging by their sullen silence and the palatable threat of violence in the air, Lilette was certain they weren’t here of their own free will. Between the palace and the unhappy crowd, the guardians had gathered five men deep, each of them armed to the teeth. On the floors below Lilette were the other witches, all of them prepared to subdue the crowds if necessary. If those two groups weren’t enough of a deterrent, Han had ordered all the elite and imperial soldiers to weave through the crowd, whispering for the people to hold their peace, promising a reward for their patience.
She felt Han step up beside her. “He’s late,” he said.
Her insides were full of knots. There were so many ways this could fail. “Lang will be here.” She wouldn’t consider an alternative.
“Lilette!”
Steeling her expression and forcing her fists to relax, she turned to face Merlay as she stepped into her apartments and came to stand beside her. Lilette knew she should say something, but she didn’t trust her voice.
Merlay raised her eyebrows. “People are starting to grow restless. I don’t need to remind you that the Harshens do not trust us. The island nobles are starting to act like we’re going to murder them all.” She laughed at her own joke.
Lilette tried in vain to join in.
Merlay’s laughter trailed to silence. “Well, shall we go on with it?”
Lilette opened her mouth, to say what she wasn’t sure, but Han leaned in and whispered in her ear, “He’s here.”
She turned to find Lang and Salfe slipping inside, two eunuchs between them. Each of them carried a bucket of soapy water. Lang gave her a slight nod—she didn�
��t doubt that all four men had hidden more than one knife in the buckets.
“Who’s this?” Merlay asked, a hint of mistrust in her tone.
“Servants,” Lilette answered smoothly. “After all, the wastrels can’t stay with us forever, and my apartments are a mess.” The four men immediately began scrubbing the soot from the walls.
Apparently satisfied, Merlay snaked her arm through Lilette’s and leaned in. “You seem nervous—much more so than when you addressed the crowd at the chesli harvest. Are you all right?”
The air felt thick and hot, not filling her lungs like it should. The edges of her vision were tight and distant. But her reactions had nothing to do with the crowd she was about to address, and everything to do with Merlay’s arm linked in hers.
“Just a little nervous, that’s all.” With a small smile, Lilette slipped free of Merlay and moved into view on the porch.
Silence swept through the crowd, but not one Harshen kowtowed to her. It was a blatant show of disrespect, one Lilette ignored altogether. “I was born a witch,” she said as loudly as she could. “I thought it was my heritage. But I learned honor from Harshen. I learned strength from Harshen. And when I returned to Grove City, I realized I was Harshen.”
She paused as the criers carried her words to the back of the crowd. Han stepped up beside her. “I have taken a son of the emperor as my husband, so that his line may continue, and because I know there is no stronger man on earth who I would have by my side.”
She took a deep breath to steady herself. “Harshen—my people—I am your empress.” They did not cheer, but they hadn’t booed her either. They were listening. “With the help of the witches, I have fed you, cleaned your city and begun repairs.
When the criers had gone silent, she made a slicing gesture. “There is only one thing left for me to do as your empress, and that is expel the witches from our presence.”
The crowd stirred with disbelief. Lilette could practically feel the agitation of the witches on the porch below hers. A handful of guardians broke away from the perimeter to disappear inside the palace. Within moments, they would be pounding on the door.
Merlay stepped up behind her. “Lilette! What are you doing?”
“Silence!” Lilette shouted. Merlay jumped in surprise, and Lilette turned from her. After today, she never wanted to see that face again. “This woman’s name is Merlay,” Lilette continued. “Long ago, she committed a murder. Her attack on Harshen was, in part, a plot to cover that up.”
Merlay moved as if to physically stop Lilette, but Han blocked her. Merlay turned and said to the crowd, “We have made a mistake in choosing Lilette as your empress. We will find ano—”
“You did not chose her!” Han roared. “The Sun Dragon did!”
Merlay took a step back. That was Lang’s cue. The eunuchs moved onto the porch, as far away from Merlay as they could get. One of their feminine voices rang out. He told how he had been in the palace, sleeping in the kitchens, when the world began shaking. He described how the ramparts had crumbled, killing all the concubines in the harem, and crushing the witches in the garden.
“Lies!” Merlay cried. “All lies! I—”
Han stepped forward. “You will be silent—one way or another.”
Merlay looked Han’s massive frame up and down and made to move toward the door.
“No.” He blocked her again.
Merlay’s jaw tightened, but she remained quiet.
Another eunuch came forward. His story was the same, only he had been fetching the court physician for his concubine, who was about to give birth. He’d just crossed the bottom set of steps when everything had come crumbling around him.
Both of the eunuchs’ stories ended in the same way, with them running from men dressed in black who had slaughtered anyone they came across—eunuch, lord, or witch alike—including one witch who’d begged for her life.
A black hate stained Lilette from the inside out. Had the woman been her sister? She couldn’t bear to ask. “So the captive witches were not fighting Chen?”
Both eunuchs shook their heads.
The door behind them flew open and Brine marched in, a dozen guardians at her back. Shock and distrust and outright hostility shone on their faces.
Lilette backed farther onto the balcony. Han stood before her, Lang and Salfe on both sides. Even the eunuchs stood their ground, soapy knives in their hands. They didn’t make her feel any safer.
If Brine attacked her, the crowd would see it, and a battle would erupt. She had been willing to bet Brine wouldn’t risk it.
Merlay was talking fast, trying to explain. Lilette ignored her, focusing on Brine. “Jolin created a barrier, called the veil, which could only be sensed by a level seven. Merlay used it to hide her attack, bringing down the ramparts and crushing my sister and the other captives—forever silencing them.” Lilette’s voice trembled, but she forced herself to go on. “And in the process, she destroyed the city. In the ensuing chaos, she sent your spies to kill everyone in the palace—it’s the only way to explain how everyone died even though the palace is still standing.”
Merlay stepped back. “I would never do such a thing!”
Lilette shook with rage and grief. “And she did it all to hide the fact that she’d killed my parents in an attempt to murder me—along with dozens of other level sevens—to protect her place as a Head.”
“Creators’ mercy!” Jolin cried. She and Galon, along with at least a dozen more witches, had come inside at some point.
Brine turned to her. “Jolin, is this true? Did you create a veil to hide songs?”
“Merlay came to me, asking if it could be done, telling me the witches could do much more good if we could use our powers to destroy evil.”
Brine frowned. “Did you hear this song—the one that destroyed Harshen?”
Jolin’s face went white. “I helped sing it.”
For a time, the only sound was the cries of the crowd. Finally Brine stepped forward. “Merlay?”
“The emperor killed her family.” Merlay scoffed. “I had nothing to do with it.”
“More lies.” Han held out a sealed scroll. On it, Chen had written his testimony and signed it. Brine scanned it, her face growing tighter with each line she read.
“Brine—” Merlay began.
“Silence! The truth is easy enough to uncover.” Brine turned to the crowd. “Were the witches in the palace compound singing the night of the tremors?”
A thousand different voices denied it. The evidence was mounting. The witches packed into the room were staring at Merlay, their disbelief slowly changing to disgust.
“Merlay,” Jolin said softly, “what have you done?”
Merlay turned to the other witches. “You know me. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—do something like this.”
Jolin face was pale. “Creators’ mercy, how much blood have you stained my hands with?” Beside her, Galon moved closer.
Merlay shook her head, but the crowd outside was screaming now, demanding justice. “I swear to you, I didn’t do this. After all my years of service, how could you not believe me?”
But it was clear the witches didn’t. And neither did the crowd.
Merlay turned to Brine, who was watching her, arms folded, a horrified look on her face. “Brine, I swear, I—“
“Silence!” Brine hissed. She motioned to two guardians who had finally reached her side. “Take her into custody—and make sure the crowd sees it or we’ll have a riot on our hands.”
“Brine,” Merlay said, her voice low. The guardians bound her hands.
Brine’s eyes glittered with rage. “Be quiet! We’ll be lucky to get out of this alive, thanks to you.” She stepped up next to Lilette and looked over the crowds until they went silent. “The keepers of Grove City had no idea one of our own could orchestrate something like this.”
“Get out of our city!” someone shouted.
Brine searched the crowd with her gaze, but whoever had spoken was not
to be found. She closed her eyes, her shoulders heavy with the burden of regret. “We will leave our guardians to protect you from any retaliation from Vorlay or elsewhere. Some of our witches and all of our wastrels will remain to help rebuild. The rest of us will go.”
Lilette ducked as something exploded around her, something horrible. A rotten egg had hit Merlay square in the chest. Brine had chunks in her hair.
Han stood up to the rail. “If you had hit the empress, I would have found you, and I would have killed you.”
His words sliced through the crowd. He had been a prince of Harshen, respected and known for nearly two decades. “Your empress has spoken. She has protected you. We will rebuild—better and stronger than before.”
He looked at them, meeting one gaze after another. “Now go home.” The crowd milled for a bit, but their anger seemed to be dissipating.
Merlay glared at them, clotted eggs dripping from her breast. Even the guardians didn’t seem to want to touch her. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” she said bitterly. “You haven’t saved your people, you’ve condemned them!”
The guardians started taking her away. Jolin marched right up to Merlay and slapped her. Galon pulled Jolin back before she could hit her again. “You used me!” Jolin shouted. “You pretended to be my friend, but you were just using me.”
Merlay glared at Jolin. “I did what I had to, for the good of the witches.”
Lilette clenched her fists at her sides. “You did what was good for yourself.”
Brine maneuvered herself between the three of them and gestured to the guardians. “Get her cleaned up and on the fastest ship we brought. Our guardians will guard our exit . . .”
“No,” Lilette interrupted. “You send armed guardians through my city and the people will fight. I will send imperial soldiers—the ones who survived. My people will not attack them.”
Brine hesitated before slowly nodding. Galon shot Lilette an unreadable expression before pulling Merlay away.
Lilette spared a glance at Merlay’s retreating form. “What will happen to her?”
