by Caitlin Seal
Naya screamed again as Corten’s empty clothes collapsed to the floor with a clatter of dry bones. Her father whirled to face her. His eyes were hard and his knuckles had gone white from gripping the sword. One arm hung limp at his side.
“Stand still,” he said. “Let me end your pain.”
His words cut through her terror and grief. Naya’s lips curled back into a snarl. Despite everything her father had done, and despite his hate and fear, she’d still thought that maybe she could make him see the truth. She’d wanted to believe there was a way to reconcile his actions, to make him do the right thing. So she’d talked instead of fighting. She’d hesitated. And now Corten was dead.
Naya drew in as much aether as she could. Her father lunged, the point of the sword aimed at her heart. She twisted sideways and stepped toward him, no longer caring if he hurt her. The blade slashed her side and icy pain nearly blinded her. Her bones strained as her fingers wrapped around her father’s wrist.
She closed her eyes and reached into his aether. The sword stole nearly everything, but she found the dense ball of energy at his core and pulled. She hadn’t known what she was doing when she’d drawn the assassin’s soul. This time she was ready. The energy seared through her like molten glass. She imagined channeling it down into the vortex of the wraith eater.
The world twisted. For an instant her vision doubled and she saw herself through her father’s eyes. He stared down at the imposter who had stolen his daughter’s form. He would purge it, put her soul to rest. Then he would get Delence back to the ships. They would take Ceramor and save her people, and then all his sacrifices would be worthwhile. His daughter’s death wouldn’t be for nothing.
The energy flared and the vision shifted. Naya could feel her father’s soul fading as the wraith eater consumed it, could feel his confusion and pain as he struggled to pull away from her. She saw her father as a boy, coming home to his mother crying. Her eyes were bleary with drink as she told him how his father had died fighting against the Mad King’s army. His hatred for Ceramor’s undead gnawed and grew with each passing year, his disgust doubling when the treaty was signed and his countrymen went back to their lives as though there weren’t monsters lurking on their borders. She saw herself—a little girl in a doorway, too skinny by far, but with eyes that met his and didn’t look away. The mother said the girl was his. He’d made her a promise, long ago when he was still young and time seemed abundant. He’d avoided that promise for years, but now as he looked at the little girl he thought it might not be so bad after all. There was something about her, a fire in her eyes.
Naya’s legs collapsed under her. Runes shattered and aether exploded out from the wraith eater’s blade. Pain flashed through her hand as one of her bones cracked. She gasped in aether as her hold on her father’s soul faltered. She heard the lap of death’s tides, but their cold was a welcome balm after the fire of her father’s soul. Through a haze she saw her father’s body collapse to the floor. Dead.
Silence fell as Naya stared at her father’s corpse. Then a rough voice whispered from the stairs, “Who are you?”
Naya looked up and found Delence staring at her, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and fascination. She closed her eyes and drew in a shuddering breath. The pain of cracked bones pulsed through her hand. Who was she? She was a reaper. She was her father’s killer. In his last moments she’d been the one to prove that the undead could be every bit the monsters he’d feared. And the worst part of it was that he’d died loving her, or at least the version of her he’d once seen.
Naya didn’t lock the pain away. She let it roar through her. Then she opened her eyes and met Delence’s gaze. “My name is Naya Garth.”
Naya crawled to where Corten’s clothes lay. She poked through them and found the two carved ribs that formed his bond. Their runes were dead and dark, and one of the bones was cracked clear in half. Naya closed her eyes, trying to sense some hint of his presence. She pushed aether into the undamaged bone, ignoring the pain that lanced through her hand. A few of the runes glowed feebly, then faded again.
This couldn’t be happening. Corten couldn’t be gone.
Maybe he wasn’t.
She gathered up the bones carefully. Corten had said it was almost impossible to sing a soul back a second time. But in the gap between almost and impossible there was still hope. She just had to get Corten’s extra bones and find someone to make a new carving. Then Lucia could sing him back and—
Delence cleared his throat. “Do you know what’s going on in the city?”
Naya looked back at the politician, irritation making her lips twitch. What did that matter? She needed to find a way to save Corten.
“Garth told me some of the plan,” Delence continued. “I know they’re trying to take the city, and I know they’ve been gathering people they thought would help them. How far has it gone? Is the king still alive?”
“I don’t know,” Naya said. Her thoughts reluctantly shifted as she remembered why they had come here and what Corten had died for. “Valn had control of the palace, last I heard. He’s been sending lies to Banen and Silmar to keep them from getting involved. We came looking for something we could use to convince the other Powers to help us.”
“Well, you’ve found it. Get me to the Banian Embassy. I know their ambassador. She trusts me, and if I can get her to send a runner back to my house, I should be able to retrieve a few documents that will help back up my part of the story.”
Corten’s bones felt impossibly heavy as Naya clutched them to her chest. Her hand ached, and just the prospect of standing up made her head spin. “It might be too late,” she said.
“It will be if we don’t move quickly.” Delence struggled to his feet.
Naya’s grip tightened on the bones. She glanced down at her father’s body. Her eyes burned, though she couldn’t say if the dry tears came from anger or sorrow. Standing up hurt. Delence was right, though: she couldn’t help anyone if she just sat here.
The stairs led up into an empty basement, and from there onto a quiet street just a few blocks from the harbor. Naya was relieved when no one tried to stop them. With her bond damaged, it was all she could do to help support Delence.
The fire had spread to the second floor of the Talmiran Embassy, and the crowd had swelled to fill the street. Naya skirted the edge of the chaos, trying to keep her head down. She spotted Iselia sitting near the fringe, her clothes singed and her expression exhausted. “Wait here,” Naya whispered to Delence, then hurried over.
Iselia smiled when she saw Naya. “What took you so long?” she asked. “We got out ages ago. We found some old letters upstairs, but that was all we could grab before the fire got too hot. Did you find anything?”
“Yes. But listen, I need you to go back to Lucia. Tell her she needs to send someone to get Corten’s bones and carve a new bond.”
“Did one of his bones crack? Wait, where is he?”
Naya’s throat closed up. She shook her head. Iselia’s eyes went to the bones clasped tight to Naya’s chest. She covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh.”
“Please,” Naya said. “We don’t have much time. I have to get to the Banian Embassy. Will you…”
“I’ll go now. Here, take these—” Iselia handed Naya a few crumpled letters. Naya took them, then forced herself to give up Corten’s bones.
It seemed to take an eternity to walk the three blocks to the Banian Embassy. When they finally got there they found the building surrounded by a mix of Ceramoran and Banian soldiers. “Let’s hope they’re on our side,” Delence muttered before straightening his spine and limping toward them. When he was a few paces away, he called out, “My name is Salno Delence. I am requesting asylum for myself and my companion under article fifty-six of the Treaty of Lith Lor.”
Whispers spread through the group. After a moment one of the Banian soldiers stepped forward to get a better lo
ok. “Way’s light,” the man said, “it’s really him.” He seemed to remember himself and snapped a quick salute. “Sir, if you’ll follow me, I’m sure Ambassador Maylan will be eager to speak with you.”
The edges of the world blurred as Naya and Delence were ushered inside. Naya’s thoughts kept returning to Corten. Had Iselia made it back yet? How long would it take to find Corten’s bones? She imagined his soul trapped somewhere in the dark waves, struggling as the tide pulled him farther and farther from the land of the living.
“Miss?” the soldier next to Naya said, her tone suggesting it wasn’t the first time. “If you’ll come with me?” She was dressed in a green-and-blue uniform and had the dark skin and sharp features of a Banian.
Naya blinked. She was standing in a broad hallway with polished wood floors and minimalist paintings of oceanscapes lining the walls. People were rushing all around her. “Where’s Delence?”
“Lord Delence is meeting with Ambassador Maylan to discuss the situation. If you’d follow me, I’ll show you to a room where you can rest.”
“I don’t have time for that,” Naya said. “I need to…” She trailed off. What was there left to do? She could go back to Fredricel’s house and see if anyone had gone to retrieve Corten’s bones. But in her current state, even that short walk seemed daunting. And once she got there, she didn’t know what she’d be able to do other than get in the way.
“If there’s anything you need, I’m sure one of the staff can see to it,” the guard said. Naya drew in aether, trying to sense the woman’s emotions. But whatever she might be feeling was lost under the press of the city’s pulse.
“All right,” Naya said. Maybe a few minutes’ rest wouldn’t be such a bad idea. It would give her bones a chance to start healing.
The guard led her to a small room with a tea table, a couple of chairs, and a low day couch strewn with hard-looking pillows. Naya slumped onto the couch as soon as the door closed, then set the letters Iselia had given her down on a nearby chair. Naya probably should have given them to Delence, but she’d been so focused on just getting here that everything else had slipped away. Well, no matter. She could pass them on to someone before she left. She closed her eyes, telling herself she’d only rest a moment before starting out to Fredricel’s house.
Next thing she knew, someone was shaking her shoulder. Naya’s eyes snapped open and she found Delence standing over her. The old politician looked far better than he had when they’d entered the embassy. His face was still pale and drawn, but his skin was clean and his hair and mustache combed. He was wearing new clothes, a wide-sleeved shirt and loose pants in the Banian style. “How are you feeling?” Delence asked.
Naya blinked. The bones in her hand had settled into a steady pounding and her limbs felt weak and heavy. “I’m fine. I thought you were meeting with the ambassador.”
“That was six hours ago.”
“What?” Naya sat up, wincing at a fresh stab of pain. “What’s going on? Did the ambassador believe you? Have the Banians sent word to Talmir?”
Delence moved the stack of letters to sit with a groan in the chair opposite Naya’s couch. “We’ve begun negotiations. I’ll be on my way over to the palace in a few minutes to address the situation there. We have reason to believe King Allence is still alive, so that’s one good thing. Ambassador Maylan will want to speak with you regarding your role in all of this. There are quite a few interesting stories about you circulating.” He paused, obviously expecting a response.
Naya fought the urge to shrink back into the couch. Her mind still felt sluggish, but not so much that she didn’t see the danger in the question. “Valn told a lot of lies. He said whatever he needed to start his war,” she finally said.
The corner of Delence’s mouth twitched in a look of amusement. “I suppose that’s true. Now we’ll have to say whatever we must to keep the peace. Given your unique position, I’m sure you understand that better than anyone.”
There was a weight to his words that sent a shiver through Naya. “I think I understand,” she said. After everything that had happened, it could still be easy for someone to twist the facts against them. If they discovered she was a reaper, they might call for her execution regardless of all she’d done to try to stop Valn.
“Excellent. Then are you ready to speak to Ambassador Maylan?”
“There’s something I need to do first. My friend’s bond was damaged. I have to help him.”
Delence leaned back in his chair. “The city’s in turmoil still. We’ve had riots in several neighborhoods, and our current intelligence suggests the bulk of the Talmiran fleet is less than a day out from our port. If you have any information that can help us dig out the rest of Valn’s allies, now is the time to give it.”
Naya shook her head. “Valn hardly told me anything. The only other person I even knew in his organization was the woman you saw in the tunnel. Her name is Celia. She led Valn’s spies. Those letters came from her room. If anyone knows his secrets, it’s her.”
Delence stood, then picked up the letters and pocketed them. “Really? That’s good to know. I already have people looking for her. Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”
“No. I don’t know anything else. I just want to go help my friend.”
Delence stared at her for a moment. “Speak with the ambassador. Her questions should only take a few minutes. After that I’ll find some guards to escort you through the city.”
Delence led Naya down the hall to Ambassador Maylan’s office, a small room decorated in the same style as the rest of the embassy. The ambassador greeted Naya from behind a large desk and offered her a seat. Delence quickly bid them farewell.
Ambassador Maylan was an old woman. Deep wrinkles carved her skin like the grooves of tree bark, and her thickly braided hair had faded to a steely gray. Naya struggled to keep her mind clear as she answered the ambassador’s questions. She described the conversation she’d overheard between her father and Valn, and gave what details she could on the other Talmiran spies and the codes Celia had taught her. The ambassador’s face gave no hint to what she thought of Naya’s answers. Naya tried to read her aether, but her emotions were masked by the tug of the office’s many lamps and the energy of the guards standing just a little behind Naya’s chair.
“Very well,” Ambassador Maylan said after what felt like an eternity.
“Will you help us stop them?” Naya asked.
Ambassador Maylan steepled her fingers. “The Banen Isles have no wish to see another war between our allies. I will contact the Six and request that they open formal negotiations with both sides.”
“You need to do more than that!” Naya leaned forward despite her pain. The Six were supposedly the ultimate power on the Banen Islands, a mysterious council of rulers rarely seen by outsiders. Every account she’d ever heard of them claimed they were wise and just, but right now Ceramor didn’t have time to wait while they debated the best course of action.
Ambassador Maylan pursed her lips. “I don’t need to do anything. Your and Lord Delence’s accounts answer several questions I had about Ambassador Valn’s recent behavior, but I don’t intend to make the situation worse by acting rashly. Even if I did have the authority to command the fleet, I wouldn’t send it sailing off to foreign shores without having a better grasp of the situation. I will, however, suggest that the Six ready our fleet, and I will send a request to Queen Lial that she not move any Talmiran troops into Ceramor until the details of this matter can be resolved. I will also update the ambassador at the Silmaran Embassy regarding the information you’ve brought and request Silmar assist us in maintaining peace here.”
Naya leaned back in her chair. “Just hurry,” she said. “A lot of people will die if the Talmiran Army lands here.”
“Believe me, young lady, I am exceedingly aware of that. But we’re not yet over the precipice. I will do what I
can to see this doesn’t end in more blood.” She nodded to the guards. “Please see Miss Garth to the door.”
Naya allowed herself to be led out. At the end of the hall, she was met by two new guards, these dressed in Ceramoran colors. The taller of the two nodded as she approached. “Lord Delence says we’re to escort you wherever you need to go, Miss Garth.” Naya looked between them and the door. Fear for Corten warred with the feeling that she should stay here and do whatever she could to ensure the Banians defended Ceramor. She hesitated a moment longer, then stepped out into the uncertain night.
By the time Naya got back to Fredricel’s apartment, Lucia was awake. The necromancer’s eyes widened in alarm when she saw the guards.
“It’s okay,” Naya said quickly. “Delence sent them to help us.”
“Delence? He’s alive?” Lucia sat up with a grunt of effort. Her skin was still a little gray, but her eyes were sharp and her wounds bandaged.
Naya nodded. “Did Iselia tell you what happened?”
Lucia closed her eyes. “Yes. Corten isn’t the only one we lost. Between the fighting at the execution and people taking advantage of the chaos, most of the city’s necromancers are already busy. We’re supposed to prioritize first deaths over attempting to restore those who were already undead in a situation like this, since the chances of success are so much higher.”
“You can’t leave him dead!” Naya took a step toward Lucia.
Lucia gave her a sharp look. “I won’t. I sent Jessin with instructions on how to find Corten’s bones in my shop. He’s agreed to do the carvings. As soon as he’s done, I’ll attempt a singing. If we can manage it, I want to do that back at the glass shop. I think a familiar location will help.”
Naya paced across the apartment as the last hours of the night wore into morning. When footsteps sounded on the stairs, she ran to the door, but the visitor wasn’t Jessin returning with Corten’s new bones.
