Mara was shaking. Something inside her was crumbling like the muddy bank of a river in flood, collapsing under the onslaught of memories. “I killed them,” she repeated again. “I killed them.” Her breath was coming in ragged gasps and she couldn’t stop talking, couldn’t stop saying the horrible, horrible words. “I killed them. I killed them. I killed them. . . .”
An arm went around her, pulled her in. “Shhhh,” Revathi said. “I know. It’s all right. I understand.”
Mara buried her face in Revathi’s shoulder, as if the tiny girl was a rock that could keep her from being swept away. Hot tears trickled from her closed eyes. Revathi stroked her hair and made hushing noises until Mara stopped shaking.
“I think I can guess what happened next,” Revathi said. “Your Tribe couldn’t leave you unpunished, not if they wanted peace with the humans. If you’d just killed the ones who killed your family, it might have been different. But as it was, they had to punish you, so you were sent away. And you wanted to make it right, you wanted to atone. That’s why you joined the Order.”
Mara nodded. “That’s exactly it.” Her throat was raw, and her eyes burned, but at least she was no longer trembling. “I didn’t realize you knew so much about Sune justice.”
“I don’t,” Revathi said. “But I know a lot about politics. And a little bit about consequences.” She rested her cheek against Mara’s hair and sighed.
“You know, ever since . . . ever since I tried to run away and got caught, I’ve been alone. I couldn’t trust my friends, I couldn’t trust anyone. Except maybe my grandmother. And now you.”
She took a deep breath.
“Mara, you’re dismissed from my service.”
EMIL WAS LOST. There was nothing but richly decorated hallways around him, and not a servant in sight to ask for directions.
Maybe if I can get to an outside door, he thought, I can find my way out of the palace from there. And then I’ll go get Stefan and we can go home.
But for the first time since Emil had left the Arvi camp, the words rang false. His arms felt cold and empty, and suddenly he wondered if he wasn’t giving up just as much for his family as his father had.
No one can save everyone.
Emil shook the thought away and shoved open the nearest door, then stopped, looking around in confusion.
He was outside at least, but where outside? Emil clearly remembered walking through a spacious garden before reaching the Palace of Rippling Leaves. But now he found himself surrounded by shrines. They were made of stone and shaped like miniature pavilions, and their domed roofs were as high as his head. Each shrine held a bronze statue of a different Ancestor. Many had offerings of fruit or flowers lying at their feet.
On an impulse, Emil went farther into the statue garden, looking for a particular face. He knew the Horned God wouldn’t be among them. Only the Kildi still worshipped the gods from before the Barrier. But there were Ancestors that they respected, like Pillaiyar.
And there was his statue, with his round belly and his broad laughing face from the shadows. Emil made a gesture of respect.
Please watch over my brother and Mara, honored Ancestor. For they are strangers to this city, and I cannot protect them both. The statue’s smile didn’t change, but Emil felt a little comforted.
He turned to find his way out of the garden, and something bright caught his eye. At the base of one of the statues was a pile of bloodred hibiscus. Emil bent to touch them. They looked fresh picked, and the petals seemed to glow against the stone. Emil couldn’t resist picking one up. He looked up to see which Ancestor had inspired this devotion.
The bronze statue was of a woman, her neck draped in demon heads and her mouth stretched in a terrible smile. Her left foot was extended as if she was going to step out of the shrine, and there was a sword in her left hand.
Kalika the destroyer.
Emil dropped the flower he was holding as if it were hot. It was bad luck to disturb anything that belonged to Kalika.
Emil wiped his hands on his tunic and headed back toward the Palace of Rippling Leaves. Maybe if he circled the building, he could find a guard or servant to direct him out. . . .
There was a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Before Emil could react, something soft and smelly was clapped over his nose. He struggled, but hands held him down, held him still. The smell filled his nose and scraped down the back of his throat. The world tipped, turned dark.
And disappeared.
“DISMISSED?” MARA PULLED away and stared at Revathi. “What do you mean, dismissed?” Shame twisted inside her. “Is it because of what I told you?”
“Ancestors, no!” Revathi looked startled. “No, I just . . . I’m letting you go, Mara. I mean, look at you.” She gestured to Mara’s bandaged shoulder. “Look at what we’ve done to you. You should be defending someone noble and true, or finding that Kildi boy of yours and pledging to him.” She put a hand on Mara’s arm. “You tried to be my friend and for that I’ll always be grateful, but your life isn’t here, Mara. It’s out there.” Her voice softened. “Go. Go and be happy.”
“But if I go,” Mara said, “what happens to you?”
Revathi lifted her thin shoulders in a shrug. “I’ll marry Tamas. I don’t have a choice. But it will be all right.”
“I could stay a little longer,” Mara offered.
“It wouldn’t do any good,” Revathi said. “Once Tamas and I marry, he’ll have the authority to dismiss any of my personal servants he chooses. You’ll be gone before the ink on the marriage contract is dry.”
Mara wanted to argue, but Revathi was right. Once they were married, Tamas would have the right to treat Revathi however he chose, and there was nothing Mara would be able to do about it.
Revathi took Mara’s hand and gave it a hard squeeze. “Mara, you can’t save me. But it means a lot to me that you wanted to. Thank you.”
Mara looked down at Revathi’s hand in hers. It looked so small. She thought about how Tamas had refused to call a healer when Revathi had gotten hurt. If he hurt her again . . .
An idea began to grow inside her, an idea as solid and rough and true as a teak tree.
“What if I pledged to you?”
“What?” Revathi jerked back. “That’s a terrible idea, Mara. You’d be bound to me until I died.”
“But it would work,” Mara said, feeling the words out as she spoke them. “In fact, it’s the only thing that would. If you were my charge, then no one, not even the Emperor, could send me from your side. I would be required by oath to defend you, even from your husband.” She paused. “Unless you don’t want me.”
“No, it’s not that.” Revathi hunched her shoulders. “It’s just . . . I can’t do that to you. You shouldn’t be stuck here playing court games. You should be guarding some great singer or healer. I’m not worthy.”
“You don’t have to be,” Mara said, her certainty growing. “I didn’t understand that before, but I do now. My oath isn’t just about me and my honor, it’s about defending someone who needs me. And I don’t know anyone who needs me more than you.”
She knelt before Revathi, took her dagger from her belt, and offered them up, her hands open.
“I would swear to you, Revathi sa’Hoi. I will guard you to the last of my strength, protect you to the last of my breath, and follow you even to the Mountains of the Dead.”
Revathi closed her eyes, her face crumpling. “Mara, please,” she said, the words a whimper. “Don’t do this. I’m just selfish enough to accept, and I’m not worth throwing your life away.”
“Yes, you are,” Mara said. “Revathi, look at me.” She reached out and wiped a tear from Revathi’s cheek. “No one should have to face what you’re facing. Not alone.”
Revathi drew a shuddering breath. “What about Emil?”
“I don’t know what my relationship with Emil is going to look like,” Mara said. “I don’t even know if he’s coming back. But I think . . . no, I know if I told him why
I was doing this, that he’d understand.”
“You trust him,” Revathi said softly.
Mara nodded. “I do,” she said. “He didn’t ask me to walk away from my oaths when I was free. He won’t ask me to leave you if we’re bound.”
“I envy you,” Revathi said. She leaned her head back against the bed. “It’s been a long time since I felt that way about anyone.”
“You don’t have to be alone anymore,” Mara said. Revathi jerked at the words. “Please, let me protect you.”
Revathi blinked rapidly. “You’re crazy.”
“Probably,” Mara said. “I’m also stubborn. It’s a bad mix.”
Revathi started laughing, tears still streaking her face. Mara felt a smile bloom on her own face. It wasn’t what she had planned or wished for, but it felt right. This was where she needed to be.
Revathi rubbed her eyes on her sleeve. “Fine, have it your way, you insane creature. What do I need to do?”
“Take the dagger,” Mara said. “And this . . .” She reached into the small pouch on her dagger belt and pulled out the bronze ear hoop. “Pierce my ear with the dagger point, put the earring in it, and say this. . . .” She rattled off the words.
Revathi took the dagger from Mara’s hand. Mara turned her head, feeling Revathi’s light touch on her ear, then a swift dart of pain.
“I accept your oath,” Revathi recited as she fastened the earring into Mara’s ear. “Be the hand that guards me in the night and the blade that shines during the day. I give you back your honor. Wear this so all will know that you have atoned for your wrongs. I welcome you to my family. Rise, Mara t’Riala, and be no longer t’Riala, but sa’Hoi, member of my family and blood of my blood.”
Revathi reached forward with the cloth she’d been holding earlier, dabbing away the blood from Mara’s ear. A tiny smile twisted her mouth. “And the Ancestors help us both.”
THE SOUND OF hinges creaking made Emil bolt to his feet. He didn’t know how long he’d been in the darkness, or even how he’d gotten there. All he remembered was standing in the middle of the statue garden and then waking up in a heap on a cold floor, in a place that smelled like a wet tunic left in a chest for too long. He’d hurt himself on several stone . . . things before finding his way to a thick wooden door, a door that would not open no matter how much he banged on it, no matter how much he shouted.
Now the door was opening.
A beam of light shot in from the hallway, blinding him. Then there were rough hands on him, holding him tightly, shoving him into a chair. Before he realized what was happening, a rope was dropped over his chest and his hands were tied.
Emil struggled until someone cuffed him in the head, sending sparks through his vision. As his eyes adapted, the torchlight grew less painful and the room around him became sharper. In the middle of the room, three stone boxes were laid out in a row. Each rested on a stone base and was about the length of a human being. Low benches lined the walls.
There was a man sitting on the nearest bench, a small man with narrow shoulders and a neat beard.
“I’d say welcome,” the man said. “But you really aren’t.”
Emil blinked the remainder of the sparks from his eyes. “Karoti.”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Emil. You were looking for us, and you found us. Or rather we found you.” He nodded to the men guarding the door.
“Untie him,” he instructed. “And give him something to drink.”
Emil sat still while they took the ropes off him and handed him a clay cup of tepid water. “So what happens now?” he asked, trying to look as calm as the mercenary. “You torture me to find out what I know?”
“Heavens, no,” Karoti said. “Too messy, and the screams are bad for morale. No, I thought I’d try something else.” He smiled, pale in the darkness. “Would you like a job?”
There was a moment of silence.
Emil set down his cup. “You kidnapped me out of the palace because you want me to join you?”
“Well, we’d rather have you here than crawling all over the Flower Circle drawing attention to us,” Karoti said. “So yes.”
“What are you even doing in the Flower Circle?” Emil asked.
Karoti tsked at him. “As if I’d tell you before you agreed. Come now, Emil, I thought you were brighter than that.”
“Where’s Stefan?”
Karoti stretched out his feet with a lazy smile. “Safe. But he thinks you’re off with the rest of his family, herding goats and enjoying yourself without him.”
Emil felt his mouth tighten. “So I could just . . . vanish. And he would never know I was even here.”
“See, I knew you were smart.” Karoti sat up. The torchlight made shadows shift and twist over his face.
A cold fury overtook Emil. “I’m not agreeing to anything until I see Stefan.” He leaned forward, put his face closer to Karoti’s, and spoke, every word slow and savage. “Where is my brother?”
Karoti smiled.
Karoti led Emil down a long, decorated stone passageway until they stopped at a dead end. Torchlight played on a carved relief of spirals and whirls.
“Where are we?” Emil asked.
“The noble crypts,” Karoti answered. “Nobles are allowed to keep their dead; they don’t have to cremate them like the rest of us. Every noble house has a tomb below it.”
“I didn’t know that,” Emil said. He’d found a few locked doors in the noble houses, but he’d assumed they were treasure rooms or cupboards or something.
One of the guards put his hand on a stone decoration and pressed. With a rumble, a section of stone swung inward, making a doorway.
“This is the best part,” Karoti said. “All theses noble crypts are connected. We think it’s a holdover from the old Empire, before the Barrier rose. Back when the people actually had to worry about armies from other lands. You’d be surprised at how many people we can fit down here.”
Emil’s skin went cold at the thought of a force of armed mercenaries hiding in the crypts and tombs of the Flower caste. So close to the Imperial palace.
So close to Mara.
Karoti didn’t seem to notice his reaction. He led Emil down yet another hall to a brightly lit crypt.
Stefan was there, standing with some other men around one of the stone caskets, a map spread out before them. He was dressed in a nondescript brown tunic and trousers, a dagger at his hip. His arm was still in a sling, but the bandage looked clean. And he seemed . . . relaxed. His mouth curved up, and his eyes were bright as he pointed out various parts of the map with his free hand.
“Here are the lines of retreat I’ve worked out. The primary one leads over the Flower Bridge. It’s more easily defensible, and there are all those little side streets in the Jade Circle to scatter into if worst comes to worst.”
“Plus healers for our wounded,” one of the men said. “If you can get behind their walls and get them to help you.”
“If you do manage to get inside, tread carefully,” Stefan cautioned. “No pillaging, minimal force. They may heal you just because it’s what they do. But we’re also criminals and traitors. And healers have a lot of ways to kill people.” He lifted his injured arm a little. “I was threatened with several of them when I wouldn’t stop squirming.”
The men around him laughed. Stefan looked up, still smiling, and saw Emil. His face went blank in an instant.
“Emil,” he said, and the room fell silent.
“Hi, Stefan,” Emil said, conscious of all the eyes on him. “How have you been?”
“What are you doing here, Emil?” The familiar sight of his brother’s scowl made some of the long-held tension in Emil’s chest leak away. His twin was healthy and safe and as grumpy as ever.
“Looking for you.”
Stefan came around the corner of the casket and grabbed Emil’s arm. His fingers dug in, and Emil winced. “Will you excuse me?” he said to Karoti. “I think my brother and I need to talk.”
“O
f course,” Karoti said, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
Stefan pulled Emil down the corridor, shoving him into a small side room.
“It’s good to see you, too,” Emil said, stumbling over the rough floor. Stefan stood between him and the doorway, his solid arms folded.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“I was worried about you.” The words seemed as thin as weak broth, and Emil suddenly felt very stupid. Stefan was clearly doing well on his own.
“Worried about me,” Stefan repeated with a snort. “Right. Does Father know you’re here?”
“Yes.”
“And he let you come? I find that hard to believe.” A bit of the old bitterness crept into Stefan’s voice.
Emil sagged against the wall. “He didn’t let me,” he said. “I tried to get permission to come after you, but he ordered me to stay with the camp. I left anyway.”
Stefan’s head snapped up. “You defied Father. You.”
“It was mostly just walking away, but yes.”
“Why?”
Emil leaned his head back, feeling the stone scrape against his scalp.
“Because you’re my brother,” he said. “I didn’t know who these men were, what they had planned, how dangerous it would be. I just . . . I knew I couldn’t let you go alone.”
Stefan started pacing, his steps restless and angry. “I don’t need you to save me, Emil.”
“I’m starting to understand that,” Emil said. And he was. He had been so used to thinking of Stefan as rash and foolish that it had never occurred to him that his brother could actually find a place here. I’m as bad as Father, he thought. We never gave him enough credit.
“I needed to come after you,” Emil finally said. “Not for you, but for me. With everything that happened, everything I said . . .” He spread his hands. “If I hadn’t come after you, I don’t think I’d have ever slept well again. I’d have just stayed up every night, replaying our last conversation over and over.” He forced himself to smile. “You’re enough of a pain in person, I don’t need you haunting me for the rest of my life.”
Empire of Shadows Page 23
