by Caitlin Seal
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure exactly. I just get the sense that she’s more than what she seems.”
Francisco’s expression grew thoughtful as he watched her. “What?” Naya asked.
“You really don’t know?” He sounded surprised.
Naya glared at him. “Okay, yes, you caught me. I know exactly what you’re talking about, it’s just that I so love roundabout conversations.”
Francisco shook his head, then glanced down the hall. “Sorry. I just assumed you would have known since you worked for Valn.” He lowered his voice. “Trade Master Galve, Lady Elv’s boss, is Queen Lial’s spymaster in Talmir.”
Naya’s eyes widened. “You’re sure?”
Francisco glanced down the hall again. “We shouldn’t talk about this out here. Can I come in?”
Naya stepped aside and Francisco hurried into her room, shutting the door behind him. “My father’s suspected him for years, but he found proof during his investigation of Valn. He only told me last night because he wanted me to be careful around the trade master and Lady Elv.”
“She’s a spy?” Naya asked.
“Think about it,” Francisco said. “As Galve’s secretary she has the access she needs to keep tabs on anyone trading in Talmir, and her reputation means people underestimate her.”
Naya crossed her arms. Why hadn’t Delence told her any of this? “Is your father planning to accuse Galve at the trial?” As trade master, Galve would certainly have had the access and the means to funnel money to Valn’s network. He might even be able to keep that information out of the accounts the queen had searched. His name wasn’t on Lucia’s list, but he was certainly old enough that he could have also been involved in the purges.
“No,” Francisco said, his expression darkening. “We don’t have any proof that he knew about the plot. Until we do, it’s better to act as though we don’t suspect him. Don’t talk to anyone about this, okay? My father doesn’t want the information spreading.”
“Then why did you tell me?” Naya asked.
“Because if you started looking too closely at Lady Elv, you might risk spooking Galve. And…” He pressed his lips together, as though tasting something bitter. “I’m starting to realize I misjudged you earlier. We have a job to do here, and I shouldn’t have let my personal feelings over the past get in the way of that. I’m sorry.”
Guilt twisted at Naya’s stomach. “I’m sorry too. I wish I had seen what was really going on in Ceramor before Valn went after your family.”
Francisco nodded, not meeting her eyes. “I should get back to work. Let me know if you want to go over anything before the trial tomorrow.”
After he left, Naya went to her desk and skimmed through the notes the scribes had left from the Congress meeting. Valn would be brought over from the prison early tomorrow morning for the trial. He’d be held in a secure room near the Congress meeting hall until the trial began. Naya had to figure out a way to get to him so she could ask in private about Galve and the names on Lucia’s list. She pulled out the map she’d drawn of the palace halls. She had a few guesses about where they’d put Valn, but she didn’t know exactly when he’d be moved or how she’d get past the soldiers guarding him.
Creator, she didn’t even know how she was supposed to get out of the delegation hall without being followed. So far she hadn’t managed to go anywhere without one of Queen Lial’s soldiers tailing her. Naya tapped the map in frustration, then she froze.
Naya Garth couldn’t leave without being followed, but what if they thought she was someone else? Naya grabbed the rune disk on her desk and activated it, waiting impatiently until Felicia arrived.
“Did you need something?” she asked as Naya let her into the sitting room and shut the door.
“Yes. Did anyone follow you when you went to deliver those letters for me yesterday?” Naya asked.
Felicia blinked. “I…I don’t think so. Why? There wasn’t any trouble with your outing, was there?”
“No,” Naya said. “But I’m going to need your help with something. Is there any chance you could get access to a palace servant’s uniform?”
“I wouldn’t know where to look. The palace staff have made a point of keeping themselves separate from us, which is frustrating because there’s this one boy in the kitchens who has the prettiest eyes. I caught him watching me when I went to help Yenni get Lady Briello’s dinner. I bet he would have come over and talked to us if the head cook hadn’t smacked him with her cleaning rag for slacking.” Felicia sighed, as though describing the end of a tragic romance instead of some chance encounter in a sweaty kitchen.
Naya smiled. “He probably doesn’t speak Ceramoran.”
Felicia winked. “He might. Even if he didn’t, I’m sure we could find some other way to…communicate,” she said suggestively.
Naya’s cheeks flushed. “Felicia!”
Felicia laughed. “Sorry. I forgot how Talmiran you still are—you’re all so proper. What did you want a servant’s uniform for anyway?”
Naya chewed her lip. With a servant’s uniform and a new face, she could have slipped beneath the notice of the ever-watchful palace guards. There was another option, but it would mean trusting Felicia with something much bigger than carrying messages. “There’s something I need to look into, but I need to be able to leave my rooms without being followed. Will you help me?”
“Help you how?” Felicia asked hesitantly.
“You don’t have to do much. I’m going to call you back here in a few hours. All you’ll have to do is wait in my rooms while I’m gone. Oh, and I’ll need to borrow your clothes.”
Felicia’s eyes widened as she seemed to realize what Naya was implying. “I—wait. You want to pretend to be me? Is that it? Can you even do that?”
“I think so. I’ll need to practice some first.”
Felicia looked away, and Naya could feel the unease washing off her. “I’m not sure this is a good idea. What if they catch you?”
“They won’t. Please. I swear I wouldn’t be asking if this wasn’t important.”
“What do you plan to do?” Felicia asked.
“I need to talk to someone without worrying about Talmiran soldiers following me around.”
“Who?” Felicia asked.
“You’ll be safer if you don’t know.”
Felicia shook her head. “No. I’m sorry but if you want to use my face, then I have a right to know who you’ll be using it to talk to.”
Naya hesitated. Revealing her plans to find Valn was too dangerous. Could she convince Felicia without telling her the whole truth? “I thought I saw someone at the ball who shouldn’t be here. She’s a spy I worked with back in Belavine.” Naya saw Felicia tense and continued quickly. “If she’s really here, then she might try to do something before Valn’s trial.”
“So you mean to go looking for her?”
Naya nodded. “I don’t want to bother Delence until I know what’s actually going on. Will you help me?”
Felicia remained silent, staring at the floor. Naya’s throat tightened as the silence stretched. She was about to say something when Felicia looked up. “All right,” she said. “I’ll do it.”
Naya grinned. “Thank you.”
* * *
She and Felicia spent the next three hours working on the transformation until Naya was confident she could mimic Felicia’s features well enough to fool the guards. Learning the new face felt easier than it had in the past. Naya wondered if that was due to all the practice she’d had at manipulating aether, or if she was slowly losing her attachment to the way she’d looked before she’d died. It was a disconcerting thought.
“You’re sure this is right?” Felicia asked as Naya let go of the transformation.
Naya shook her head. “I’m not sure how else I can get out of here without being followed. I’m sor
ry, I know I’m asking a lot of you.”
“It isn’t that.” Felicia smoothed her skirts. “Like you said, all I have to do is wait here for you to come back. It just gives me the shivers seeing you look exactly like me. You could go out there and kill someone, and people would think I’d done it.”
“I’m not going to kill anyone,” Naya said.
“Oh, of course I know that,” Felicia said, though the fear in her aether seemed to counter her words. “I’ve just never done anything like this before.” She smiled weakly. “When Lord Delence offered me this position, I was hoping for adventure. But I was thinking more of catching the eye of some pretty messenger boy who’d turn out to be a long-lost prince or something, not so much of lending out my face to hunt spies.”
Naya’s eyebrows rose. “I seriously doubt any of the messenger boys here are princes in disguise.”
“You’re right,” Felicia said seriously. “Princes are far more likely to hide in the kitchens. Maybe I should sneak back down there tonight.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” Naya said.
Felicia laughed. “I am. Still, you never know. That sort of thing happens all the time in the stories, and stories have to come from somewhere, don’t they?”
They spoke for a few minutes more. After that Felicia left to get some rest before they set their plans in motion. Once she was gone, Naya went back through her notes, looking for anything she might have missed regarding Trade Master Galve. So far as she could tell, Galve had never so much as traveled to Ceramor. If he had been working with Valn, it would have been through intermediaries.
A knock at the door startled Naya from her contemplations. She glanced at the clock. Almost midnight. How had it gotten so late?
The knock came again, quiet and precise. Naya frowned, then stood and checked the aether. There was something odd about the energy on the other side of the door. It felt too thin to be someone living. Francisco, perhaps?
She opened the door to find a palace servant standing on the other side, her face set in a polite smile. A spark of anticipation danced through the woman’s thin aether.
Before Naya could ask what was going on, the servant leapt forward. Her shoulder connected with Naya’s chest, sending them both stumbling into the room. Naya’s leg collided with the arm of the couch as she struggled to put more distance between herself and the servant. The door clicked shut.
“What are you doing?” Naya asked, panic rising in her throat. The woman before her had sharp features and black hair pulled back in a tight bun. Her aether flowed strangely, as though drawn into a rune device near her hand or wrist.
The woman met Naya’s gaze. Her eyes were unusually pale, more gray than brown. They narrowed as she drew a slender knife from a hidden sheath against her leg. Runes ignited as the wraith eater’s blade drew from the servant’s aether. She attacked.
Aether roared through Naya’s bond, eager to be unleashed. The woman advanced with a fighter’s grace. She slashed at Naya’s chest so fast that the knife in her hand seemed to blur, the glow of the wraith eater’s runes seeming to wrap around her wrist.
Naya ducked and twisted, trying to put furniture between herself and her attacker. What was going on? Was the palace under attack? Naya sidestepped another slash, searching for an opportunity to move inside the woman’s guard. The tip of the knife grazed her arm and icy pain shot through the limb. Darkness wavered on the edges of her vision as the hungry blade sucked at her energy.
Naya clenched her jaw and aimed a punch at her attacker’s face. She concentrated aether in her right arm, imagining the runes for force as she did. Her fist seemed to leap forward, connecting with the woman’s jaw and sending her reeling back. Naya’s lips pulled back from her teeth in a snarl. “Who are you?” she asked.
The woman smiled, revealing bloody teeth. Too late Naya saw the woman’s hand slipping behind her back. She threw something, another knife. Naya flung herself sideways. Fabric tore and an icy chill wrenched her shoulder as the knife passed harmlessly through her. Then the woman was on top of her. Naya caught the woman’s wrist, stopping her just before she plunged the wraith eater into Naya’s chest. This close she could feel the blade’s pull. It was like a gaping maw, trying to suck her back into the dark tides of death.
The woman grunted with effort, and the tip of the blade dipped lower. The glow around her wrist brightened. Were those runes encircling her arm? That didn’t make any sense. Naya could feel her own reserves fading. Almost without conscious thought, she reached out through the aether, searching for the bright source of energy at the woman’s core. Her soul. If she could pull that brilliant glow toward the wraith eater, she could separate it from the woman’s body and send it into death. But even as she reached, her will faltered. Her father’s empty eyes loomed before her, and she remembered the sickness that had filled her when she’d drawn away his soul and sent it screaming to the other side.
The knife dipped lower, the tip pressing a dimple in the fabric of Naya’s dress. Fear crawled up Naya’s throat, pushing out her anger. She gasped as the tip of the knife pressed into her skin. Ice radiated from the tiny puncture and pain throbbed through the bones of her hand.
“Help!” The word sounded inhuman as it slid past Naya’s lips. She couldn’t die here. She tightened her grip on her attacker’s wrist and saw pain flicker in the woman’s eyes. Wood splintered and the hall door burst open. “Stop! Drop the knife!” a man shouted.
The woman glanced up. Naya rallied the last of her strength and managed to shift the knife a couple of inches while her attacker was distracted. Then something tugged hard at the aether behind her. She heard the crack of a rune pistol and blood exploded from the woman’s shoulder, spattering hot drops across Naya’s face and chest. The woman toppled sideways, dropping the knife.
“Don’t move,” a man said.
A young Talmiran soldier stood in the doorway. He fumbled with something on his pistol and the weapon’s second rune plate clicked into place. Blood pumped from the hole in the woman’s shoulder where the heavy slug had penetrated. She glanced between Naya and the soldier, then sprang to her feet and ran toward the window.
Naya flinched as the second shot tore through the room, this time hitting the woman in the leg. She collapsed with a cry of pain. Behind Naya the soldier cursed and dropped his spent pistol, drawing his sword with a ring of metal on metal. Naya was more than a little relieved when she didn’t feel the renewed tug of a fresh wraith eater. Her bones ached from the brief contact with the woman’s knife, and she doubted she could fight the soldier if he decided to finish what the fake servant had started.
Naya dragged herself to her feet. The soldier advanced, his eyes flickering between her and the woman on the floor. Sweat trickled down the side of his neck and his eyes were wide enough that Naya could see the whites all the way around. The woman rolled over, something clutched tight in one hand.
“It’s over,” Naya said. “Tell me who you are—and who sent you.”
The woman raised whatever she held to her lips. Naya realized what she was about to do and lunged forward, but not before the woman could tip the contents of the tiny vial down her throat. “Get a doctor!” Naya shouted at the soldier as she fell to her knees beside the woman.
The soldier hesitated, still holding his sword at the ready.
“Now!”
He left. Naya grabbed the woman’s shoulders. Her muscles began to twitch and bloody foam dripped from her lips. For an instant her eyes locked on Naya’s, the pupils so wide they showed only a faint hint of lighter color around the edges. “We are the flood,” the woman said, the words coming out in a choking gurgle. “We will wash you away.”
“What does that mean?” Naya asked. But she could feel the woman’s aether fading. She reached out for the soul. Maybe she could catch it before it passed to the other side, hold it somehow and stop the woman’s body from dy
ing. But the light faded from the woman’s eyes, and then there was simply nothing left for Naya to catch.
Naya rose to her feet, swaying. The bones in her left hand throbbed like a heartbeat. She reached the door as the soldier returned with a white-haired man carrying a doctor’s satchel. Naya shook her head. “Don’t bother,” she said. “It’s too late.”
The doctor gave her a startled look, then glanced at the soldier. “Yes…er…I’ll just double-check, shall I?”
Naya moved out into the hall and let the two men into the room. Her thoughts felt sluggish and disconnected as the woman’s words danced circles through her mind. We are the flood. We are the flood. What had she meant? Was it just the ravings of a madwoman, or something more?
“Excuse me.”
Naya blinked as another soldier pushed past her, headed to an open door on the other side of the hall. She became aware of the sound of voices, and a mix of half-dressed delegates and guards moving through the hall. Naya’s throat tightened. The other door was Francisco’s.
Naya slipped through the crowd gathering around Francisco’s room. There she found Lucia crouched next to Francisco’s prone form. His white nightshirt was stained with blood from a wound near his stomach. His eyes were closed and his breathing ragged. Naya’s chest lurched. “Is he alive?” There was so much blood. His skin was turning gray and the tattoos around his neck and wrists somehow seemed faded.
“Yes,” Lucia said simply. She held her hands pressed against Francisco’s wound and didn’t bother looking up. “Has the surgeon come yet?” she asked over her shoulder.
“On his way, madame,” a man said behind Naya.
Naya turned to face the man, an older soldier in a crisp uniform. “What’s going on? Is the palace under attack?” she asked.
The soldier’s aether hardened like ice around him. “We don’t know, but I’ve ordered reinforcements to protect the royal family and the other delegations. My men were stationed at the end of the hall. They heard screams and found Lord Francisco under attack by a man wearing palace livery. They discharged their weapons, but the attacker escaped through the window.”
