by Callie Bates
“Well, although I am the steward of the land, I do occasionally prefer down mattresses.”
I run my hands up below her shirt. “Is this one of those occasions?”
She gives a delicious shiver. “Oh, yes.” But she breaks away and grabs my collar again. She’s smiling. “Jahan, I never said yes! Yes!”
Now I’m smiling, too. I lean in to kiss her again, and my hands tangle in her hair, and her weight settles against me, and my life has never felt so true and so right.
* * *
—
JAHAN.
It’s a woman’s voice, whispering into my mind. My heart thuds me awake, but it’s not Madiya, because Madiya is dead. I’m safe—completely safe, at last. I’m tucked up against Elanna. The fire’s gone out. Evening light filters in sleepy golden bars past the curtains.
Her whisper comes again. Jahan!
Elanna turns over drowsily. “What is it?”
“It’s…” Jahan! she calls again, and the tenor of it finally registers, though I have no idea how the queen of Eren and Caeris is able to speak like a sorceress into my mind. “It’s Sophy.”
El sits straight up. “What? How?”
“I don’t know.” I fumble out of bed, hunting for a robe, but all my things have been packed away in trunks again. I wrap a blanket around myself and approach the mirror hanging on the far wall. Elanna rushes after me, trailing more blankets and, as if it will make her more prepared, her greatcoat. I touch my fingers to the cool glass and summon Sophy Dunbarron into my mind’s eye. “Sophy!”
She appears immediately, haggard, her hair loose. She clasps her hands over her mouth at the sight of us, as if she might burst into tears. Oh, thank all the gods!
“What’s wrong?” El demands.
Sophy rubs her hands through her hair. Do you remember I told you there had been protests all across Eren, when everyone thought you were dead? Well, now the protestors are claiming—She catches her breath, winces. They’re claiming a victory. Their leader made an attempt on my life—but I found proof—
“We’ve won here,” El says. “We’ve taken Aexione! That should be enough to dissuade them.”
Tears are falling down Sophy’s cheeks now, thick and fast. She shakes her head. Draws a deep breath. That doesn’t matter now, not to them. They say they’ve found a replacement ruler, that he’s on his way to Eren. She pauses. He’s coming to take my throne. To claim it’s rightfully his.
Elanna makes an impatient noise. “Who could possibly do that?”
Sophy swallows hard, and cold grips the back of my neck. I know what she will say even before she speaks.
Euan Dromahair. My natural father.
Even though I suspected, it’s a shock to hear the words. Elanna is staring.
“But he has no right!” El protests at last. “And he has no support—no means—”
I must have gasped, because both women are staring at me. But I’m seeing that day in the Salon of Meres. How Princess Phaedra stood so close to Euan Dromahair. And this morning, Nestor followed them to Manasi. He said they’d set sail. I assumed they’d taken themselves into exile.
But maybe they just changed their base of operation.
“Sophy,” I say. “What do people say about his supporters?”
That they’re powerful and influential—all the usual things. She rolls her eyes. Why?
But El is staring at me, as if she knows what I’ve realized.
“Augustus and Phaedra Saranon,” I say. I clear my throat. “Leontius’s younger siblings—they wanted his throne. I have no proof. But Sophy, I would wager they are Euan’s supporters, and they’re headed to your shores, with him.”
Sophy is staring. The Saranons? But why would they come here?
“Probably because they have nowhere else to go,” El says grimly, “and for some reason they’ve allied with Euan Dromahair.”
“They’re opportunists,” I add. “They see Eren’s weak, and they want to take advantage.”
El turns back to the mirror. “We’re coming, Sophy. We’ll be back in a few days. Just hold out a bit longer, if you can.”
Sophy draws in another deep breath and nods. I will.
* * *
—
I CLOSE OUT the communication with Sophy. El’s already flinging on her clothing. “How long will it take to reach Eren? Three days? Four? Perhaps we can conjure a wind—or compress space.” But she pauses, her face falling. “I, I mean. I can speak to the water, somehow. I’ve never done it before, but there’s a first time for everything…”
“El—” I begin.
“You need to stay here,” she says fiercely, her shoulders taut. “Leontius needs you. Ida—all of Paladis—”
“No,” I say, “well, perhaps they would like to have me. But Paladis doesn’t need me.” I reach for her hands. This isn’t what I planned, but it’s obvious, now, that it’s what must be. “I didn’t give you a ring, Elanna Valtai, so I’ll have to stay with you until I find one.”
She blinks hard. “I can’t ask that of you.”
“A ring? They’re easy enough to come by. I just need the right design…”
“Jahan!” she exclaims, exasperated.
I grin and draw her close. “You’re not asking it of me. I’m offering it to you. I want to be with you. And I’m not going to let Phaedra and Augustus Saranon set up stakes in your homeland.”
She runs her fingertips down my arms, then looks up at me, almost shy. “It could become our homeland. If you stayed…”
Make a home in Eren and Caeris, away from the bright sun of Ida. Leave my friends, my fellow rebels. For Elanna. I look down into her brown eyes, the hope so tentative in them. A strong beat pulses through me. I want to hold her so close, every moment. I want to make her laugh. I want to wake up with her, and fall asleep beside her.
“We could build a—a school for sorcerers,” she’s saying. “For the refugees who’ve come to Eren and don’t want to leave. And for the Ereni and Caerisians who want to learn magic. You could teach people what you know.”
Like Madiya—only I would never experiment on people’s minds. I could take everything I learned from Madiya, and all the knowledge stored in the mountains of Caeris, and bring it to people in a better way. A good way.
“Our sorcerers could take over the world,” I say, and El laughs. I smile down at her. “I’ll do anything, as long as I’m with you.”
She hooks her hands around my neck and kisses me hard. When she releases me, we’re both a little breathless. “Then let’s go.”
EPILOGUE
“If you’re not going to be sorcerer imperial,” Rayka says, “then that means the position’s open, right?”
“Not to you.” If such a position even exists. “That would be nepotism.”
“Nepotism!” he splutters. “It would not! Just because you’re acting like you own the whole damned world…”
I just grin. I don’t feel as if I own the whole world, but it would be trite to tell him that I feel as if I’ve found my place in it. It was strange, coming through the rubbled streets of Ida to Imperial Harbor, to be greeted by people shouting my name. Strange to be seen for what I am, but I no longer feel so exposed.
“At least wait until you’ve taken your military exam,” I say. “Then you can trouble Leontius all you like.”
“Exam!” Rayka says crossly, blowing air out his mouth, but I can tell he’s secretly pleased. “They don’t need to test me. I’ll do better than anyone ever has.”
I roll my eyes, glancing back for Lathiel. He’s trailing behind us, picking his way over the long earthquake crack in the quay. It’s hard not to reach back for him; hard not to hold on too tight. He looks so slight in the overcoat we rustled up for him, and his eyes still seem hollow. There’s still a tremor in his hands. But he’s gripping a chest of belongings tigh
t against his ribs. When I asked him what he wanted, whether he’d prefer to stay here with Aunt Cyra or come with me to Eren, he didn’t hesitate for a moment. “I’m coming with you,” he said, with a stubborn determination that made my chest contract. I’ll keep him safe. I’ll guide him through the withdrawal from the opium, and let him choose for himself what he wants to do with his sorcery and his life. But most of all, I’ll keep him close to me. I won’t leave him again.
Rayka and I stop, a few paces away from the great ship that will bear us to Eren. I look at him, even though his eyes slide away from mine. I know he can fend for himself. I know he’ll be all right. But it’s hard to leave him here.
I reach out and clasp his shoulder. He stiffens, but to my surprise he returns the gesture. My throat tightens. “You can always come to Eren, you know.”
“Well, you can always come back here,” he retorts, but his scowl doesn’t fool me.
“Take care of yourself.”
He shrugs a little, too uncomfortable to actually say goodbye, and swings away to talk to Lathiel. I let myself drink in the sight of both of them, together one last time. Safe.
There’s a cough behind me: Leontius, approaching. He’s giving us a royal farewell, with the imperial guard and the black ships at the ready to honor our departure—at least, as many as he could assemble on short notice. He’s still weary from blood loss and walks slowly. On our way here, he was preoccupied with the question of where to imprison his stepmother. His bare wrist is covered in a cuff, and Nestor and Irene are scheming up designs for a false hand they might attach to it, powered by magic. Already he’s despaired of pleasing everyone.
“Lees,” I say, and reach out my hand. He clasps it. He can’t seem to speak. I glance at Zollus, waiting patiently some distance behind. He nods at me, and I nod back. I don’t know where he and Leontius stand. But I hope that my friend finds happiness, even if, in the end, it can’t be all that he truly desires. “You’ll make a great emperor. The emperor Paladis needs.”
His head bows. “I don’t know if I can do it without you, Jahan,” he whispers.
“Nonsense. You have Pantoleon and Tullea, and even Zollus might lend a hand.” I wink at him. “And Eren isn’t the whole world away. I can be here in a few days’ time, if you need me.”
Now he looks up at me, bright with relief. “Would you?”
“Well, once I’ve sent your beloved siblings packing.” I smile at him and clasp his hand harder. “Yes, of course. You have only to speak my name, and I’ll answer. I’ll find a mirror. We can speak from anywhere.”
His eyes grow moist, and mine itch a little, too. We smile at each other. It feels so damned good to be friends again.
Then Leontius glances to my left and I turn to find Elanna coming up beside me. Her shoulders are high and tight—she’s impatient with these farewells—but she smiles at Leontius.
He bows to her. “Lady Elanna, I hope you know what an honor it has been to meet you.”
El leans forward to kiss his cheek. “You’ll do well,” she tells him. “Remember that Eren is your friend, and so am I. And don’t neglect your magic. Finding water beneath the earth will benefit your people more than you think.”
Leontius smiles, too.
“Also,” El adds, “I’m depending on you to send me The Journal of Botanical Studies by the swiftest post. We’ll come back soon, you know. Markarades and I are collaborating on a monograph, and I need to discuss my findings with him.”
Lees laughs, and I spread my hands. “You see?” I say, grinning. “We’ll return.”
He clasps my shoulder, then says conspiratorially to Elanna, “Write to me if Jahan starts giving you too much trouble.”
“Oh, I’ll do better than that,” El says. “I’ll bring him straight to Aexione for a reprimand.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m standing right here, you know.”
“I know, and I’m claiming you.” El tucks her arm around mine. “It’s time to go.”
I smile one last time at Leontius, and gesture Lathiel to precede us onto the ship. But as we turn to follow him, Pantoleon and Tullea are waiting there by the gangway.
“I’ll keep you updated by letter,” Pantoleon says, “every time I find another well.”
A lump tight in my throat, I thump his shoulder. I’ll miss all the others, but no one more than my oldest friend. “Come to Eren,” I manage. “When things have settled, I mean. There are plenty of sorcerers to study there.”
“We’ll both come,” Tullea says, “if we can.”
“We would all like that.” I grin at Tullea, standing there regal in her crimson turban. Yes, Rayka’s got stiff competition for sorcerer imperial.
Finally, I follow El up the gangway onto the ship. The day is bright and gulls wheel overhead; beyond the Old Palace, bells toll and hammers ring out on the Great Bridge, work having already begun to repair the damage done by trees and earthquakes. Ida goes on as it always has, and Mount Angelos towers over all, its shape forever distorted now. I look one last time at the people assembled on the wharves. If we survive whatever awaits us in Eren, we’ll see them again. But it’s still a struggle to swallow down the lump in my throat.
Overhead, the sails are unfurled. Sailors pull in the gangway. Slowly, the great ship slides from its mooring, out into the deep water of the Desporos Strait. Northwest, toward Eren and Caeris. Toward the land I thought I’d abandoned.
Ahead of me, Lathiel edges onto the forecastle deck. He leans up on his toes and inhales the smell of the wind, his eyes closed.
I swing around him and put my arm about Elanna. She’s standing at the railing, facing forward into the wind, her hair falling out of its knot. She smells of the sea and springtime.
She leans against me. “I’m glad you’re marrying me. If you weren’t, I’d be worrying you’d started some new revolution, or some mad empress had kidnapped you, or you’d been imprisoned in a fortress…”
“Ah,” I say, “but if I wasn’t marrying you, I’d be afraid you’d woken an entire mountain range and made it stomp over the Tinani border to terrify King Alfred into submission. And then flooded all the lakes and rivers of Eren to drown the Saranons and Euan Dromahair…”
She turns into my arms, laughing. “Perhaps that’s what I should do! What do you think? And then you can turn into a raven and fly over it.”
I lower my face to hers. “All I know is, this raven belongs to you.”
And I kiss her, there in front of the entire ship, before the entire city of Ida, beneath the brilliant sun. She breaks away, smiling at me, and I feel impossibly light, as if I’m flying already.
We turn, then, to see the waters open on the other side of the strait, as the ship sails out into the glittering blue, toward Eren, and Sophy.
For my parents
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Despite my daily mantra of “This doesn’t have to be so hard,” writing this book was challenging. And humbling. And on a personal level, it taught me a lot. As Elizabeth Gilbert writes in Big Magic, “Everything I have ever written has brought me into being…Creativity has hand-raised me and forged me.” I didn’t realize how true these words were until I wrote this book. (Although, I’m choosing a different mantra next time…)
Fortunately, many good people guided me through. First and foremost, thank you to my wise and generally amazing editor, Anne Groell, for unquestionably making this a better book. I’m also grateful to Tom Hoeler for great editorial feedback, and to my wonderful agent, Hannah Bowman, for guidance and insight on both writing and publishing.
A huge thank-you to the fantastic team at Del Rey Books, especially David Moench, Keith Clayton, Tricia Narwani, Julie Leung, Alex Coumbis, Scott Shannon, Stacey Witcraft, and Ryan Kearney. I’m so lucky to be taken care of by such great people! I’m grateful as well to copy editor Laura Jorstad. Thank you also to everyone
at Hodder in the UK for doing wonderful work with this trilogy, especially Sam Bradbury, Oliver Johnson, Jenni Leech, and Sharan Matharu. I’m also grateful to the team at Hachette Australia for everything they’ve done! Finally, thank you to the wonderful people at Liza Dawson Associates.
I’m incredibly grateful for another stunning US cover and interior by the talented Ben Perini, Susan Schultz, Diane Hobbing, and Dave Stevenson. And in the UK, I’m thankful to Natalie Chen for creating another absolutely beautiful cover. You guys are making this author very happy indeed! Thank you, too, to Laura Hartman Maestro for bringing this world to life once again with not one but two completely gorgeous maps.
Thank you, retroactively, to Terry Brooks, Robin Hobb, Tamora Pierce, Charlaine Harris, and Scott Sigler for their generosity in blurbing the first book in this series. It means more than you know.
All my gratitude to my friend Licia for flying out to Seattle with me twice in twelve months and listening to me blather about volcanoes in view of Mount Rainier. Girl, you’re the best, and the mountain in this book is for you. Thank you for always having my back!
So, so many thanks to my friend, soul sister, and critique partner Martha, for epic Skype sessions, code names, and giving me the key to the heart of this book, though I’m not sure you realized it at the time. I’m more grateful than I can say.
I’m also grateful to Emily for her generosity of time and effort, and for reading and commenting on an early version of the manuscript.
My family has, as always, been an incredible source of support. As ever, I’m profoundly grateful to my parents not only for reading and giving feedback and support, but also for enduring my vacant stares into the ethers. Thank you to Nancy for her constant belief and encouragement. And thank you to Eowyn for having a comic-con adventure with me and snickering wildly every time I take a selfie (#SealPeople).
Also, this book features one awesome aunt…so thank you to all my aunties, both adopted and biological! You make my life magical.
