Broken Web

by Lori M. Lee

  This time, I can’t help the way my entire body goes still. My heart lurches into my throat. Beside me, Saengo’s eyes dart to mine, widening just enough to hint at her panic. Throughout the gardens, those of the Emperor’s court who understand Evewal begin to murmur excitedly.

  Priestess Mia steps aside with another deep bow and gives me a cool, expectant smile. She’s clearly not thrilled to be used as a demonstration, but she’s hardly going to object.

  I wipe the alarm from my expression as my mind races for how to respond. I open my mouth and quickly close it again. When I say nothing, Priestess Mia’s smile grows strained, a question in her eyes.

  “Soulguide,” the Emperor says again with the barest hint of impatience.

  I look at Saengo, dread spreading cold and sharp down my back. Then, I dampen my lips and say, “I’m sorry, Your Imperial Majesty, but I can’t.”

  NINE

  At once, a collective silence falls over the gardens.

  Priestess Mia’s eyes widen, a mixture of surprise and horror loosening her jaw. I don’t need to look around to know the rest of the court wear similar expressions.

  Above me, the Emperor speaks again, repeating my words in slow mockery. “You. Can’t.”

  There’s no mistaking the threat in his voice.

  I swallow with difficulty, my throat dry, even as annoyance begins to creep into my shoulders. What was it the Soulless said? House Yalaeng has never accepted that they couldn’t do something. They’re not used to being told no.

  Movement at the edges of my vision catches my attention. Imperial soldiers shift on their feet, hands closing around the hilts of their swords.

  I’m reminded of Evewyn’s strict protocols in the presence of royalty. Before the fire at the inn when everything changed, I would have never dared to raise my voice or my sword to the prince of Evewyn. I’ve since done both, but while I’ve no desire to lower my head and submit to yet another person who believes they’re my superior, I’m also not a fool.

  So long as I can avoid putting myself or Saengo in danger, the Empire’s customs must be respected. There are two knives strapped to my thighs beneath my gown because I’d refused to walk into the heart of the Empire unprotected. But they are a last resort. Until then, I’m a guest here, which I’d do well to remember.

  As Kendara tried to teach me by forcing me to join the Queen’s Company, sometimes it’s better to be underestimated.

  “What I mean to say, Your Imperial Majesty, is that I don’t know how.” I lower myself again to my knees, bowing deeply. “What I did with my familiar was from desperation and instinct rather than skill. Please forgive my ignorance.”

  The silence begins to ebb, giving way to a flurry of whispers. I remain on my knees, awaiting judgment, my gaze fixed on the marble gleaming in the light of hundreds of lanterns.

  To my surprise, Kyshia speaks. “Your Imperial Majesty, you are a kind and just ruler. The girl has only known she’s a soulguide for a handful of weeks, and as Her Imperial Majesty said, there hasn’t been a soulguide since Suri. She has no means of learning her craft. Surely, with your guidance, she can become a most valuable servant.”

  I try not to bristle at the assertion I would serve the Emperor. I’m not a Nuvali shaman. I am an Evewynian shamanborn. That hasn’t changed just because they think I’m a soulguide. I am not a thing to be claimed.

  “This woman beside you is your familiar, is she not?” the Emperor says. “If you might demonstrate your healing instead. My personal healer tells me you’ve been able to keep her infection contained.”

  A second wave of whispers ripples through the assembled crowd, louder than before. I grit my teeth, anger breaking past the fear. He might as well have told the whole of the Empire that Saengo is my familiar. Kyshia said that harming a shaman’s familiar is a grave sin, but I can’t trust that every shaman feels the same, most especially not House Yalaeng’s enemies.

  I want to refuse. I want to remind him that Saengo and I are not his subjects, and even if we were, we’re not pets trained to perform at his command.

  But I’d prefer to survive the evening. So I say, “Of course, Your Imperial Majesty.”

  Slowly, I rise to my feet and face Saengo. She looks calm, but her fear and outrage echo over the bridge between us. Even so, she reaches for my hands, which are frozen at my sides.

  “It’s okay,” she whispers.

  Fury surges within me again. Word of this will spread, and anyone who views me as a threat will now know who to target. I can’t hide Saengo away like other shamans might their familiars. She is my friend.

  My craft responds, blazing hot beneath my skin. Every soul around us sharpens briefly. My hands tighten around Saengo’s as I push down my anger.

  “Soulguide,” the Emperor says again. From the tone of his voice, I know this is my last warning.

  With a nod, I unfurl my fingers and press them gently to Saengo’s chest, above the silk collar of her gown. I close my eyes to block the stares as heat flares through me and Saengo goes rigid.

  When it’s over, the entire garden is deathly silent. Saengo brushes her palms down the front of her gown as we turn again to the Emperor and Empress, our heads bowed.

  “Remarkable,” says Empress Lyryn in a hushed voice. “Thank you, soulguide. You have blessed us this evening.”

  “Indeed,” the Emperor agrees, sounding appeased now that he’s had his way. It makes my teeth clench with irritation. “The Temple of Light is at your disposal. See that you learn what you must quickly.”

  “His Imperial Majesty is as generous as he is kind,” I say as I bow again. Beneath the color brushed over her cheeks, Priestess Mia looks ashen and slightly awestruck, her painted lips pinched.

  I back away, hoping to escape.

  Fortunately, the Emperor lets us go.

  Once Saengo and I are clear of the marble courtyard, we’re eager to disappear between the hedges of the imperial gardens. The shamans watch me with wide eyes. Some of them make to approach us. I grab Saengo’s wrist, darting behind a cluster of ginkgo trees where two shamans sip wine on a stone bench. We leave Priestess Mia behind, ducking around a fountain to avoid another shaman who looks intent on speaking with us.

  At last, we find a quiet spot between two hedges where the light of the lanterns doesn’t quite reach. We collapse into the grass, arranging our skirts to avoid staining them.

  “Let’s not do that again,” Saengo says, fanning her face.

  “I agree. The next time the Emperor summons us, we’ll just tell him we’re busy.”

  She smacks my arm with a small silk purse hanging from her wrist. My heart has yet to calm beneath my chest, and every beat sends a rush of magic and blood coursing through me.

  “Are you all right?” I ask, taking her hand. “I’m sorry that happened.” Damn the Emperor and his disregard for Saengo’s privacy.

  “It’s not something we could’ve kept hidden anyway. There were witnesses in the north, remember? The truth would’ve spread eventually.”

  “I thought for certain you were going to stab someone,” a voice says.

  My head jerks up to find Theyen leaning over the hedges, sneering.

  “That is how you tend to deal with conflict,” he adds.

  I’m too relieved to see him to feel annoyed by his insult. I rise to my feet. “I need to speak with you.”

  His snowy brows twitch upward. “I thought as much, but I believe I made the nature of our relationship clear the last time we spoke.”

  “And yet here you are, delightful as ever,” I say before I can stop myself.

  Saengo glances between us, looking exasperated. “Please forgive her, Hlau Theyen. We only need a moment of your time.”

  I wince and nod. “Yes, I’m sorry. But you’ll want to hear this.”

  “I doubt that.” He glances over his shoulder at two shamans watching us and whispering furiously. They keep their distance, though, as Theyen’s four shadowblessed guards linger just out of ears
hot.

  “Then why did you seek us out?” I ask.

  His lip curls and he speaks softly enough to avoid being overheard. “I’m truly cursed when you’re the least vexing thing in this whole city. I’ve endured enough Nuvali politics in a day to last me a decade.”

  “Hlau Theyen, we need to speak,” Saengo says, adjusting the fall of her gown and brushing a bit of grass from her sleeve.

  He rubs lightly at his temple. “Fine. Let’s find somewhere less exposed.”

  We make our way back through the colonnade and into an antechamber that leads into a vast room. Even with sconces, the lighting doesn’t quite reach the high ceilings. Portraits line the walls, along with what appear to be suits of armor. It must be a collections hall of some sort.

  “I’ll keep watch with these four,” Saengo says, indicating the other shadowblessed.

  I make a face at her for abandoning me, but she only flicks her hands at me and then introduces herself to his guards.

  Theyen continues ahead into the large hall, his boots echoing quietly over the smooth marble. With a sigh, I follow.

  “Has it been decided how Nuvalyn and Kazahyn will respond to the queen’s actions?” I ask, catching up with him.

  He doesn’t answer. Instead, he says, “Might I point out that this is exactly the scenario I feared when you decided you’d be better suited at keeping the peace than Ronin? The Fireborn Queens will be forced to act should this come to war.”

  “I suppose I could’ve let Ronin kill me. Then you’d be facing war with him instead of the Soulless. That is if you hadn’t been murdered in his manor house first.”

  Theyen gives me a long, indecipherable look. When he doesn’t laugh or say anything caustic, I take this as a good sign and continue. I tell him about finding the cocoon inside Ronin’s greenhouse, and how House Yalaeng has known all along that the Soulless was still alive but kept it a secret to preserve Ronin’s power.

  “So the magic that swept from the Dead Wood after the attack … that was the Soulless awakening.” He sounds skeptical, and I don’t blame him. Had I not seen the Soulless with my own eyes, or felt his power sink its talons into me, I don’t know if I’d be able to believe it either. “I suppose that would explain why the gate sent to Spinner’s End hasn’t returned.”

  I frown. “Wait, what? Are there people still trapped at Spinner’s End?”

  “I only learned a few days ago. The gate managed to guide over a hundred people from Spinner’s End before she abruptly stopped. I mean to go there myself once I deal with everything here.”

  The idea of anyone left at Spinner’s End, trapped with the Soulless, makes me ill. But if one gate is already missing, sending another isn’t an option.

  “You can’t do that. It’s too dangerous.” As terrible as it sounds, the best way to help them is to ensure we have a means of defeating the Soulless. “I have a suspicion that Queen Meilyr’s move against Kazahyn maybe at the Soulless’s request. There’s no reason to march on Mirrim when she can’t enter the city. The Empire and Evewyn have never been on good terms, but—”

  “Conquerors need no reason to subjugate their neighbors other than because they wish to,” Theyen says.

  We stop beneath a portrait of a stern-looking woman with gray hair and steely crystal-blue eyes. She’s dressed like a warrior, perhaps a Yalaeng ancestor who fought in the Empire’s numerous wars.

  “That’s true, but Evewyn is a small kingdom. I don’t think she’d move against two larger kingdoms on her own. Not without an equally powerful ally.” What I don’t understand is why Queen Meilyr would risk trusting another shaman after what happened with Ronin. Once the Soulless regains his strength, what’s to keep him from breaking their deal? Even with the whole of her army, she wouldn’t be able to control him. All of Thiy once tried and failed.

  Theyen mulls this over in silence. His crown catches the low light, flecks of orange dancing along the cool silver. “And you say my dearest fiancé knew about this. A promising sign for our marriage to come. Why are you telling me this now?”

  “Prince Meilek is in Luam. He has information from his allies in Evewyn and wants to meet tomorrow night.”

  Theyen turns away from me, but not before I catch the disgust that twists his mouth. “Let me guess. You need my help. I’m beginning to understand why you don’t have many friends.”

  I flinch. “That’s hypocritical.”

  “I am selective about who I offer friendship, but I admit, rare as it is, I sometimes choose poorly.”

  His words sting, much as I wish they didn’t. It’s true I’m not good at making friends, far worse at keeping them, and I don’t offer my trust easily. For half the time I’ve known Theyen, I’ve suspected him of wanting me dead. How could I have known he didn’t send that shadowblessed assassin after me at Spinner’s End?

  “I’m not asking you as a friend,” I say. Aside from Saengo, I don’t know how to be a friend anyway. Phaut was my friend, and I failed her. “I’m asking as a potential ally. I’ve given you vital information. All I request in return is your help for one evening.”

  “Because your keepers won’t let you leave the city?” he asks.

  My jaw clenches. “Not without their escort, and I don’t trust them.”

  As much as I dislike agreeing with anything the Soulless said, he was right that the Empire was built on war and conquest. An Empire of Sun, bright enough to conceal its darkest shadows.

  Ask yourself why House Yalaeng kept my presence here a secret.

  Priestess Mia didn’t seem to know about the Soulless being alive. Even if she had, she certainly wouldn’t have confirmed it. She’s hiding something, though, and so is Kyshia.

  I doubt details like who the Soulless was before the Yalaeng Conquest or whether he had a family would survive the passage of time without being recorded. Given how critical it was for House Yalaeng to keep the truth of the Soulless a secret, any such archives they might’ve kept would be securely locked away. The Bright Palace would be my first guess.

  Unfortunately, breaking into the palace to find them probably isn’t an option. I wouldn’t be able to read them anyway.

  “I can’t just create a gate and show up anywhere I like, you know,” Theyen says, strolling farther into the hall, toward the suits of armor displayed against one wall. “I have to know a place or a person well enough for it to work.”

  I follow on his heels, glancing at the exit where Saengo and the guards wait. “Have you ever been to Luam?”

  “Yes. The river the queen wants access to is the Xya River, which cuts through the Fireborn Queens territory and into the Empire.”

  “To Luam,” I say, glaring at the back of his head. “So, what’s the problem?”

  He pauses at the first suit of armor, head tilted to observe the elegant designs worked into the leather breastplate. There are curious embellishments, ribbons of pale brown that wrap around the chest like a rib cage. All of the armor pieces on display have similar details.

  He runs his fingers along a leather vambrace and doesn’t reply.

  I lift one eyebrow, impatient. “What are you doing?”

  “This armor,” he says, a question in his voice. “I think this is the Hall of Heroes.”

  I look again around the vast chamber, seeing it with new eyes. “I’ve heard of this place. Nuvali heroes from the Yalaeng Conquest.”

  “Enemies to the Kazan,” Theyen murmurs, moving to the second set of armor.

  I reach out, passing my fingers down the breastplate, and then snatch my hand away. “Are these …?”

  The pale brown ribbons felt like the talisman Kendara gave me, and like the palisade circling Spinner’s End.

  “Bones,” Theyen confirms. “These were fashioned from creatures called sunspears. They were a species of wyvern native to the northern mountains.”

  “Were?”

  “There are none left on Thiy. But this armor would’ve been worn in the war against the Soulless.”

 
At this, I step back to take in the collection. There are dozens on display. Each one is unique, with designs worked into the leather and scraped into the bone, beautiful and grotesque.

  “A whole suit of armor as a talisman,” I muse. “Why? What did these bones do?”

  “Sunspears’ bones are dense and heavy, impractical for long battles. But their bones acted like a cage for their souls. A sunspear was the one creature whose soul a soulrender couldn’t rip.”

  My craft stirs. Magic rushes through my limbs, circling the tips of my gold-painted nails. A creature whose soul I can’t rip. “A weapon of war against the Soulless.”

  “Scholars say they were hunted to extinction during the war, but I don’t believe that. I’ve lived with wyverns all my life, and they’re too intelligent to allow themselves to be picked off. I think they abandoned their mountains and left Thiy.” He gestures to the numerous suits of armor. “Wyverns live in colonies far larger than this. The creatures must’ve fled before any more could be killed.”

  My thoughts fly to Kendara and her last words. She wanted me to flee as well. I ignore the ache inside me and shake my head at the horror of what must’ve been done to these creatures. “Good. Thiy wasn’t worthy of them.”

  Something in Theyen’s face softens then. “You asked what the problem is—the Kazan don’t answer to a single ruler. The city Queen Meilyr has surrounded belongs to the Silverbrows, who are allied to the Fireborn Queens. We need all of our allies, including the Nuvali, because we have enemies as well, even among the Kazan clans, many of whom wouldn’t mind seeing our clan brought low. Some of them don’t believe allowing Queen Meilyr access to the Xya River is a threat to Kazahyn. They might even support her if it meant a blow to both us and the Empire.”

  “Then let Prince Meilek count among your allies. Help him take his sister’s throne, and Evewyn will no longer be a threat.”

  He closes his eyes and rubs one finger at his temple. “I can’t say I’ve missed your stubbornness. I recall how it ended the last time I listened to you and crept into places better left alone. But if Prince Meilek has information from within Evewyn that will help, then I’ve no choice.”