Sea of Shadows

by Kelley Armstrong

  "Fine," Ashyn said. "You're making me dizzy. And Tova."

  The hound grunted in agreement.

  "Go to the library and fetch a book." Ashyn lifted the one she was reading. "You've never seen such a collection. They're sure to have new ones for you, with new beasts you can use to scare children."

  Ashyn smiled, but Moria was in no mood to think of fantastical creatures. At this point, it seemed as if merely to consider them would be to conjure one in their quarters. She had no interest in new tales of wild adventure either. She would be quite happy when this one was done.

  "Let me see the envelope," she said, walking to Ashyn.

  "And let you nearly set it on fire again, holding it to the flame trying to read the message inside?" Ashyn shook her head. "You'll find out soon enough. We cannot risk tampering with it."

  "I'm not tampering. I'm trying to learn more. Once we hand it to the emperor, we have only his word on what's written within."

  Ashyn's brows shot up. "You think he would lie?"

  "Perhaps not, but I don't like knowing so little. Let me see the seal again."

  Ashyn sighed and took the envelope out. Moria examined the wax seal.

  "It looks like a family crest," Moria said. "But there is no creature in it, and Gavril did not recognize it."

  "Because if it is a family crest, it is not from a family of the empire. These are mercenaries. They must work for a foreign king."

  "If we could identify it, then . . ."

  Another sigh. "Then what? What difference does it make?"

  "It would be knowledge. Insight. Before we hand it over."

  Ashyn shook her head and pocketed the envelope. "You're bored, Moria. Go for a walk. Visit Gavril. He'd be happy to see you."

  "No, I'm quite certain he's enjoying the respite."

  "Oh, I'm not so sure." Ashyn smiled. "I think he'd welcome a visit, particularly if your sister is not tagging along."

  "Do not play matchmaker, Ash. Or, if you must, find a more suitable target for me. Gavril is a valuable ally. I respect him."

  "Meaning you do not find him attractive? Because I'm sure I caught you watching at the stream when he took off his tunic to bathe."

  Moria shrugged. "He was doing so within view; it was no invasion of privacy, and it was a sight worth watching. So is a pretty sunset. It does not mean I wish it for my own. I respect Gavril. I admire him. Therefore, he is not a potential lover."

  "Because you respect and admire him? That may be the most ridiculous thing you've ever said."

  "Not wishing to dally and amuse myself with someone I hold in regard?" Moria sat cross-legged on the end of the sleeping mat. "I think that is perfectly reasonable. I like Gavril. I enjoy his companionship. He infuriates me, but he challenges me, and I appreciate that. I can talk to him honestly. That's rare."

  "And all qualities you ought to seek in a lover."

  "Why? I don't want a lover so I can talk to him. That would defeat the purpose. I can think of much better uses for a lover's energy. And his mouth."

  Ashyn's cheeks colored. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that."

  "You keep your notions of romance, Ash, and I'll keep mine. Just understand that they do not include Gavril Kitsune." She crossed the room and peered out the window into the courtyard. "Is the sun not even down yet?"

  "Go to the library and get a book."

  "I don't want--" She stopped. "Give me that missive again."

  "You're not--"

  "I want to draw the seal. Perhaps I can find references in the library."

  "An excellent idea." Ashyn sat up. "One that ought to keep you busy and allow me to finish my book. I'll copy it for you."

  Fifty-three

  The buildings of the imperial court were quiet, the walkways linking them empty. The library was almost clear across the grounds. The most direct path to it cut dangerously close to the Chamber of the Divine, meaning Moria instead had to head through the smaller garden and the warren of buildings that followed. She took a wrong turn, and as she retraced her steps to the garden, she saw Gavril sitting on a bench, staring into the koi pond. Lost in thought. She wouldn't disturb him.

  She started retreating, but he seemed to sense her. He rose and gestured, too subtly for her to figure out what he wanted. Then he began walking away. She hesitated. He looked over his shoulder, jerked his chin, and mouthed, "Follow me."

  She did, keeping her distance. They wound through the manicured garden, eventually coming to a shed. Gavril glanced around and then went inside. She followed, entering as he lit a lantern. He motioned for her to close the door and keep her voice low.

  "Is this a secret meeting?" she whispered.

  "You should not be seen conferring with me," he said. "I warned you about that. You cannot risk appearing to have aligned yourself with me. I must seem merely your escort from Edgewood."

  "And as I told you, I'm not concerned--"

  "You must be," he said, his voice harsh. "I mean it, Moria."

  His use of her name told her he was serious.

  He peered down into the darkness. "Where's Daigo?"

  "Resting."

  "Is his infection worse?" He sounded alarmed.

  "No, but the doctor advised him to rest, and he's sleeping so soundly he never noticed me leaving."

  "You should have him with you at all times, Keeper."

  "In the imperial court?"

  "Particularly in the imperial court."

  She peered at him. The flickering lantern light cast shadows on his face, but she still noticed a faint sheen of perspiration and a tightness to his features. Gavril was usually so good at hiding his emotions that she sometimes wondered if he even had any. But now the worry and fear was so thick she could almost smell them.

  "I need to leave," he said, before she could speak. "That's why I called you in here. I'll be gone before the emperor returns."

  "What?"

  "I've realized my testimony may actually do more harm than good. I shouldn't be here."

  "So you're abandoning us?"

  She'd only meant to get a reaction from him, to break him out of this odd mood and back into the Gavril she knew. But he stiffened before saying, "You'll be fine. Just keep Daigo with you."

  "You're running away, then?"

  If he did not react to an accusation that he was failing his duty, surely an insult to his honor would work. But once again, there was only that brief flicker of tension, quickly dowsed.

  "I am retreating. Yes."

  "What's wrong, Kitsune?"

  "I am uncomfortable here, and you do not require my services any longer--"

  She looked up into his face. "What is wrong, Gavril?"

  Sweat trickled down his face. She swore she could feel his heart pounding.

  "Come with me," he said quickly, closing the gap between them. "We'll go away from this. Bring Ashyn."

  "What?"

  "War is coming, Moria. You know it is. Whatever that letter demands, the emperor will not bow to threats. War will come, and we're caught in the middle of it when we don't need to be. We'll give the missive to Tyrus. He'll take it to his father. I trust him to do that. We can leave."

  She stared at him. "What have you eaten?"

  She reached up and touched his forehead. He jumped back, but not before she felt his skin, burning hot. "You're fevered. Someone has poisoned you." She gripped his arm. "We must get you to the doctor--"

  "I'm not poisoned."

  "Then you're possessed, like Wenda. The Gavril I know would never abandon his duty. Would never run from a threat. You are a warrior, Kitsune, and to even suggest fleeing ahead of a possible war . . ." She couldn't finish the sentence.

  "You don't under--" He stopped and he looked at her. Then he swallowed and took a slow step back, his hand going to his forehead. "Yes, I am fevered. I have not eaten or drunk anything but . . ." He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. You are right, of course. I'm unwell, perhaps from the strain of the journey."

  "And per
haps from not eating or drinking."

  He nodded. "I apologize for my outburst. It was . . ." A sharp shake of his head. "Madness. I ought to speak to the doctor."

  "So you aren't leaving the city?"

  "No. I'll stay the course. I must." Another deep breath, his gaze lowered. "I must." He rolled his shoulders and shoved back his braids, and when he spoke again, his tone had returned to its usual clip. "But I was quite serious about you wandering without Daigo, Keeper. You shouldn't be poking about at all."

  "I'm not poking about. I'm heading to the library."

  "To read? Or do you just look at pictures?"

  He rewarded her glower with a twitch of a smile, and she began to relax. This was the Gavril she knew.

  "Both." She took Ashyn's drawing from her pocket. "I want to find out what this is."

  There was a heartbeat of silence. "I believe it's a seal. In fact, it rather resembles the one from the letter, though it's hard to tell. Someone should not trade her daggers for drawing pencils."

  "I'll tell Ashyn that. She drew it for me."

  Another pause, and she wondered if he was about to apologize for the unintended insult to her sister. He simply said, "So you plan to research it."

  "Yes. Or ask the scholars."

  "And if I said you were wasting your time on frivolities . . ."

  "I would say it was my time to waste."

  "Perhaps instead you would care to waste it in the training yard with me? Or touring the grounds? I know a few secret spots that might be of interest." When she looked up, he shrugged. "You aren't the only one going mad with boredom, Keeper. Either activity would be an acceptable excuse for you to be seen with your guard and escort."

  She hesitated and then looked down at the drawing. "Can we do it later?"

  He paused, and she thought he'd say he wasn't waiting on her convenience, but he merely murmured, "You are resolved to your research, then?"

  "I am."

  When she looked up, his expression seemed odd. The lantern light, she decided.

  "Of course you are," he said.

  "So we'll meet afterward? I'd like to see these secret places you mentioned. In the meantime, since you need to eat and drink, you should pack us a picnic."

  "Should I?"

  "Yes. We'll 'poke about,' and we'll have sweets and honey wine, and perhaps, if we don't have too much wine, we'll spar afterward. Does that sound like a good way to pass the time?"

  "It sounds like a perfect way to pass the time." His voice was strange, almost wistful, and she looked up sharply, but he only turned his face and bumped her shoulder. "Go on, then, Keeper. Look up your seal."

  Moria found the imperial library. It seemed the busiest place in the court at this time of evening. Or perhaps busy was not the right word. It was simply the most populated. There were six or seven scholars there deep in study, the room so silent that her footfalls echoed like thunder when she entered.

  A man came hurrying out from behind stacks of books. He seemed only in his third decade but was already slightly stooped and graying, as if from a lifetime of poring over books. When he saw her, he stopped and smiled.

  "Did you finish your book already, my lady?" he asked.

  "That was my sister, Ashyn."

  He blinked. In Edgewood, it was rare even to be mistaken for each other--their manners, their stances, their speech, and even their style of dress was different.

  "Of course," the man said. "You must be the Keeper." He bowed deeply. "I am the master of the library. Are you looking for an adventurous tale? Your sister did mention you are fond of them." His dark eyes twinkled. "We have several new translations from beyond the empire. You likely will not have heard them."

  "I would be interested in those another time, master. Tonight I wish to identify a seal."

  His brows rose. "A seal?"

  "A family crest, I believe." She took the paper from her pocket, smoothed it, and showed him. "I am curious."

  "Curiosity is what lets a young mind grow and keeps an old mind young." He peered at the paper. "Yes, it does appear to be a family crest. A secondary seal, if I'm not mistaken."

  "Secondary?"

  He waved her to accompany him into the stacks of books. A few other scholars--old and young--glanced up, but only briefly, before returning to their studies.

  "A noble family's primary crest bears its emblematic beast. As such, it is easily identified." He waved to a wall hanging, showing a dragon circling on itself. "The Tatsu crest. There is no mistaking it." They continued walking. "However, there are times when the family wishes to send a message that is not immediately recognizable to all who see it. So they have secondary seals."

  Which made perfect sense, given the nature of this particular missive.

  "I myself am not familiar with the secondary crests, but there's someone here who will know. The old master of the library."

  He led her to an elderly man sitting at a long table, transcribing a crumbling text onto new pages. The younger man cleared his throat and then gave a slight bow when the old man looked up.

  "Master, this is the Keeper of Edgewood. She brings a family crest that she wishes identified. It appears to be a secondary one."

  "Oh?" The old man's gaze settled on Moria. "The Keeper of Edgewood. I heard you were in court. Welcome." He began to rise stiffly from his low seat to bow, but she stopped him and he settled back with a grateful sigh. "Thank you, my lady. My old bones prefer the shape of a cushion these days. Now, you bring me a crest?"

  She handed him the drawing. As he took it, he reached for his looking glass. Then he glanced at the page and set the glass down again.

  "I have no need of that," he said. "I've seen this one often enough, though not in many a summer. Where did you--?" He stopped himself and smiled. "Ah, yes. I heard you came with the Kitsune boy. Did he have it on him?"

  The old man didn't seem to expect an answer, and Moria wasn't sure she could have given one, her heart was pounding so hard. Finally she managed to say, "It is . . . the Kitsune crest?"

  He nodded. "A particular one, for a particular man. The boy's father. Marshal Kitsune."

  Fifty-four

  As Moria stumbled from the library, no one came after her, so she presumed she had thanked the library masters and said good-bye, but she could not remember doing so. Nor could she remember how she got out the door or, moments later, how she arrived in the gardens.

  The man who sent the letter was Marshal Kitsune.

  No, that was impossible. Someone else was using his seal. Pretending to be the man who'd perished in the Forest of the Dead.

  He had perished, hadn't he?

  When Gavril came to Edgewood, the villagers had wondered what to tell the boy of his father. Should they mention that they recalled him? Should they not? Then there was the matter of the body, which had not been found. They feared Gavril would discover that, and it would only make matters worse for the boy, knowing his father's spirit roamed the forest, trapped between worlds. So they'd decided to lie. They'd told him his father was at rest. It was a small kindness he deserved.

  But the body had not been found.

  Because there was no body to find?

  Again, impossible. You could not simply walk from the Forest of the Dead. Even if you managed to make it to Edgewood, you would be seen by the guards. No man could escape his fate.

  Not even one who had been, arguably, the most powerful man in the empire? She had seen Gavril's reception among the city guards. He had not been nearly so respected in Edgewood, where many were too young to have served under his father. But there had been those, like Orbec and the commander, who'd treated Gavril with deference and respect. Honor, duty, and loyalty--the tenets of the warrior code. Loyalty to one's lord. One's warlord. And the warlord of all warriors was the marshal. Whether Marshal Kitsune had been disgraced or not, there would be men who would risk their own exile in the forest to help him escape it.

  Marshal Kitsune wasn't merely a warrior either. She remembe
red Gavril at the campfire in the Wastes, arguing that the raising of the shadow stalkers did not seem the work of a sorcerer. Eventually he'd allowed that it might be, but they both knew it was--it could be nothing else.

  Her stomach clenched so hard she doubled over and had to grab a bench for support.

  Does Gavril know? He must.

  But he'd said he didn't recognize the seal.

  He lied.

  That was even more impossible than his father escaping the forest. Hadn't Gavril refused to believe those things in the forest were shadow stalkers? Hadn't he refused to believe that the people of Edgewood had been massacred? Hadn't she seen the shock and horror on his face when he discovered it?

  Gavril knew nothing of this.

  She'd found him in the forest, injured but alive. Left alive. The sole survivor.

  Because his father had spared him, as any father would. Which did not mean Gavril knew his father lived. Or that he knew anything about this terrible plot.

  But would the former marshal allow his only child to unveil that terrible plot to the emperor? When the emperor discovered who was behind it, Gavril would be lucky to escape with his life. What father would do that?

  Not one who had made sure his son had survived thus far.

  As Moria sat on the bench, she looked to the garden shed and heard Gavril's voice in her head again. I need to leave. That's why I called you in here. I'll be gone before the emperor returns.

  She inhaled sharply. No. Gavril had played no witting part in this. He'd simply been uncomfortable in the emperor's court and wanted to leave. Or perhaps, on reflection, he had recognized the seal. He came to recall it later and knew he had to flee. Flee quickly, because Moria was about to uncover the identity of the man who had sent that message.

  She ran for the guesthouse.

  Moria was almost to Gavril's quarters when his door opened. She crouched behind a squat statue. He stepped out, pack in hand. Then he paused and went back inside, as if he'd forgotten something.

  She hurried to his door and nudged it open. He had his back to her as he stood at a tray of food, stuffing fruit into his pockets.

  She watched him, the way his braids swung forward as he bent, the way he pushed them back impatiently, a motion so familiar it quelled the turmoil in her gut.

  Gavril had played no part in his father's plan, if it was his father at all. Gavril was stubborn and difficult and prickly and arrogant, but he was, above all else, honorable. He had fought by her side. He had confided in her, about his sorcery and his fears. He had trusted her and she had trusted him. That meant something.