by Rin Chupeco
Once seated, Emperor Shifang called out a command, and the dancing resumed. All too quickly, I was whisked away again by another Daanorian waiting his turn.
“Beautiful,” my partner breathed. “Stay in Daanoris longer?” He rattled off a string of words I didn’t know, going on and on until finally ending with a question and looking back at me hopefully. “Pardon me?” I managed, not entirely sure what I was answering or if a guesswork yes would bring me more trouble than a no.
“Mind if I cut in?” a voice to my right interrupted. My suitor wasn’t as fluent in the common tongue, however, and Kalen had to repeat it, this time in Daanorian, adding in a few other words I couldn’t understand. The boy visibly gulped, cast a fearful glance at the tall Deathseeker, and stepped aside.
“Likh and Khalad are off to map the rest of the palace wards,” Kalen advised me. “Zoya thinks Likh can use the seeking stone to overcome the wards’ restrictions and channel enough magic to untangle the threads all on his own.”
“How long will it take them?”
“Most of the night, according to Likh. Zoya told me to come here and tell you in case anything else happens.”
He started to step away, but I grabbed his arms and guided him across the floor, taking note of several women eyeing the Deathseeker. Odalian nobles were oblivious by nature, I decided. “And here I thought you just wanted to dance with me.”
“I can’t dance.” But he didn’t pull away, and we moved slowly to the music while the people around us spun.
“I thought you could do anything.”
“Do you want me to learn?”
I looked up. He was staring at me again in that strange, exhilarating way he had in the woods by Lake Kaal.
I faltered and mumbled at his boots. “Not if you don’t want to.”
We danced for a few minutes without saying anything. A Daanorian woman worked up the nerve to approach us but backed away when I glared at her.
“Angry about something?”
“You do know there are women itching to kill me right now, right?”
His grip tightened. “Did someone compel the people in the palace? The wards are still in place.”
I sighed. “That’s not what I meant. Never mind.” His breath tickled my ear, sending goose bumps along my skin.
“Want to talk about the hanjian instead?”
“Hanjian?”
“Traitor. The emperor decreed that the man who tried to kill me be labeled as such. It’s the lowest form of insult among the Daanorian army apparently. If you don’t want to talk about him, how about the other soldier who died then?”
“You sound exactly like Fox.”
“We’re very similar in a lot of ways.”
“I don’t think you’ve ever forced a guy to kill himself,” I said bitterly.
“There isn’t much difference between forcing him to and running him through yourself. You were looking out for me.”
“I’m no longer certain you’re worth the effort.” I wanted to rile him up, but that only made him laugh.
A familiar song began. Shadi and Zoya were dancing The Fox and the Hare, popular among the kingdoms and a common repertoire in asha performances. Even the crowd, unused to our style of dance, fell silent as they watched the couple sway to the music, flowing to the rhythm with little effort, gliding from one intricate movement to the next.
“Don’t make it a habit of shutting people out,” Kalen said quietly as everyone else watched. “Your brother cares for you. You shouldn’t make him worry.”
“I know. I’ll find him later and apologize.”
“The first time I killed someone, I was thirteen. She was a Tresean soldier.”
I gasped. “She?”
“There’re a lot of women soldiers in Tresea. They fight as well as any man I’ve ever met. This one was a deserter, part of a roving band of thieves and pirates who’d managed to sail into Odalian waters, robbing and setting fire to our merchant ships. I didn’t know until much later that she hadn’t taken part in the raids we’d been tracking. The ship she’d previously been on had floundered, and they’d picked her up only the day before. She felt honor bound to fight with them, I suppose, but I still cried myself to sleep for two nights running.”
“Cry? You?” Kalen had always seemed made of stone. Emotions of any extreme seemed out of place on him.
“I wasn’t always a bastard.”
That made me giggle. “That’s hard to remember.”
“You’re holding up much better than I did.”
I sobered. “I don’t feel guilty. I feel bad that I had to kill both of them, but I also feel bad about not feeling worse about it, as I know I should. What does that make me?”
“That means you have more of a fighter’s temperament than I do.”
I snorted. “Nobody’s more of a fighter than you. You’re the bravest, strongest, most amazing man I’ve ever…”
I stopped. So did he.
“I mean, you’re all right,” I finished feebly, wanting desperately to kick myself.
“Tea.”
I froze. Kalen was looking down at me with a vulnerability I never thought possible with him.
“I think I’m going to take you up on that offer again.”
He drew nearer, and I wondered, in some part of my brain that was still functioning, how I must have looked to him. Did I look shocked? Nervous?
Eager?
“Don’t move,” he whispered. No two words had ever been so hard to obey.
His mouth hovered a few inches from mine, and I overcame the desire to close the distance. But he stopped, and I wondered if I’d misinterpreted his intentions again. But his eyes were fierce and hungry and desiring and a million other emotions all at once, and I could not look away.
He kissed me. In full view of the nobles, in full view of the emperor and anyone who wanted to see, his mouth hot against mine. He tasted like everything I wanted, and he kissed like I could reach into his heart and take everything I desired from it. I was inexperienced at this—too young in Knightscross and too busy in Ankyo, the little time in between spent daydreaming about an infatuation that paled when compared with the reality that was Kalen. But I kissed him back like I wished I could do better, like I could do better if it was always with him.
The Fox and the Hare ended. Shadi and Zoya curtsied, their fingers linking together as their captivated audience broke into applause.
Kalen stepped back. His face was expressionless, but he was breathing harder than he had during our sparring sessions, as if realizing he’d gone too far, too fast, with nothing to show but the truth of a kiss still hanging in the air between us. His heartsglass gleamed a combination of brilliant silver and warm apple red.
“I promised Zoya I’d make a few more rounds tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow, Tea.”
I watched him walk away, Shadi and the emperor’s curious eyes on me the only barriers stopping me from pursuing him. It was not quite a faux pas, the kiss…but Mistress Parmina would have frowned on it all the same. I took a deep breath, trying in vain to quell the happy, nervous butterflies sprouting in my stomach, and turned back toward the throne.
And stopped. Inessa’s seat was empty.
I followed Fox’s thoughts and found her with him, away from the crowd. They swayed noiselessly on the veranda, dancing without the need for music. Inessa’s head was against my brother’s chest, her eyes closed and a small smile on her face. Fox looked down at her, his own expression unreadable.
I wanted to leave, but instead I parked myself between them and the rest of the guests, ready to sound the alarm if anyone headed their way.
“Your Majesty,” Fox said quietly, formally, “we can’t stay here for much longer.”
“I don’t want to leave.”
“Your Majesty.”
“Are we
on formal terms again, Sir Fox?” Inessa let go. Her hand gripped at the neckline of her dress.
“It’s your engagement.” Fox’s tone was wooden. “Stop tugging at your collar. You’ll ruin your dress.”
“You’ve done that enough times before.” Inessa pulled harder in response.
Fox’s hand folded over hers.
“Princess Inessa!” I heard Tansoong trill from somewhere nearby, and her arm jerked up.
Something small and sparkling flew through the air, landing in a metallic clink as it hit the floor.
The princess staggered back. “I’m going,” she mumbled.
“Inessa, what—”
“Keep it!” The words rushed out with a heartbroken sound, and Inessa fled.
Fox knelt. With shaking hands, he picked up the small pin Inessa had left behind—a silhouette of a fox dotted with tiny crystals.
Princess Inessa and Lord Fox were silent when she finished. Lord Kalen had stepped out to oversee the rest of the Daanorian soldiers and Khalad had resumed his toil at his forge, bent studiously over his task.
“Princess Inessa has been good to you, Fox,” the Dark asha murmured to ease the tension. “You look like a soldier for once. A royal uniform now instead of the threadbare shirts and breeches you’re so fond of.”
“I didn’t realize you’d seen us at the party,” the princess whispered, her cheeks coloring.
“It was none of my business.”
“But your leaving was my business, and you knew it.” The Dark asha’s brother’s face gave away no emotion. “You raised monsters and invaded a kingdom, and now you fight against Inessa’s own people. Still my business, all of it.”
Her head dropped, avoiding his gaze. “I had no choice.”
“No choice?” His voice was flat, but his words were cutting. “You had a choice, but you left and gave me none. You blocked your thoughts from mine, and still I sat and waited for months because I was a fool and thought I knew you better. Do not stand here and tell me you had no choice when it was you who gave me nothing to choose between.”
“Because you didn’t believe me!” She fought back, her words coming out in quivers and hitches.
“The elders said—”
“The elders said!” the asha shouted. “The elders said! Exactly that! They are lying cowards, and yet you heeded their words over mine!”
“I saw you, Tea.” His cold facade shifted, and my heart twisted at how broken the man now sounded. “I saw you kill her.”
She trembled. “I didn’t. I couldn’t.”
“And you don’t believe me either. You don’t trust me, Tea. Because even as I stand here, you still have the Veiling rune in place between us.”
“Inessa and I shouldn’t be here,” Khalad said softly.
“No. The time for secrets is over.” The bone witch’s hands curled, held at the ready, fearful of the next fight. She closed her eyes briefly, relaxed. Some magic I could not see thrummed between them, dissipated. Lord Fox started in surprise.
“It is gone.” A queer sob, all the more strange and sad because it came from her. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. All I remember is the screaming, and even then I don’t recall if it was mine or hers. Some nights I wake up and scream still because I can see the blood on my hands. It never goes away, even with all the soap and the scrubbing. Hers is the only death you can lay at my door. If I killed her, then I will pay for that soon enough. But I killed no one else, no matter what they tell you. I swear on Kalen’s grave, Fox. I told you nothing because you hated me then, didn’t trust me—and because if you knew, they would cast you out as well. Do not deny that—I understand.
“For the longest time, I hated myself. You can hate someone and still wait for them, but I didn’t want you to wait. I left because it meant I would live, that you would live. But even that is not enough. I cannot give you half a life, Fox. Neither you nor Inessa deserve that. So I took the daeva and made my plans without you because I knew you would stop me. I swear on Kalen’s grave. I swear.”
The man watched her with eyes so like her own. It was as if he could delve into her soul with one look and discern her lies from her truths. “And what are those plans?” he asked quietly.
“I do not want a fight with either Odalia or Kion. My war is with the elders and with Drycht. I will remain in Daanoris a few days more, and I will leave the city unscathed. As a sign of good faith, I will do nothing against the other asha. When I am done with King Aadil, they will no longer matter. Command your armies to return home, Inessa. They give the dead nothing but stomachaches.”
“Come back with us, Tea,” the man insisted. “We can talk to Empress Alyx. Mykaela will understand.”
“Empress Alyx and Lady Mykaela do not make up the whole of Kion, Fox. Not anymore. They will put me on trial for my crimes, and I will be publicly executed for the world to see. I have gone too far, Fox. There will be no other judgment, no matter what Mykaela or Zoya or anyone else claims.” Beside him, Inessa froze, her fear thick enough to touch. “And when I die, so will you.”
“If you declare war against Drycht and die in battle, then so will I. What difference will it make?”
“Because my odds there are better.” The bone witch rose, a knife in her hand. She cut her finger, drops of blood welling up. “Should I find what I seek in their mountains, then you will survive this, Fox. Or did you forget that there was once a spell in Aenah’s book you forbade me to use?”
She leaned forward, placing her injured finger against her stunned brother’s cheek. I watched as the small wounds on his face and arms healed, disappearing as his flesh knitted back together. “And I will use it, Fox. You will live. Regardless of how I die.”
23
“You want me to compel them to sleep?”
“It’s the fastest way.”
After that initial stab of disappointment at Kalen’s nonchalance, like nothing significant had happened between us, I swore not to let it show. “People without heartsglass are harder to control.”
“There’re only two of them.”
“You know, for someone with decided views about compulsion, you’re pretty open when it comes to compelling someone else.”
“So I’m no different to you than some palace guards?” Kalen asked.
I looked at him, but he was already directing his next question at Khalad. “You sure you can find him?”
The boy adjusted his spectacles. “I’m positive. If the forger is anywhere in the city, I will locate him.”
Shadi spoke up. “Zoya and I are going to stay behind and snoop for a bit.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?” Likh asked, concerned.
“I doubt we’d look suspicious,” the doe-eyed asha said with a smile, “but I can defend myself if I have to. And I’ll have Zoya with me.”
“Where’s the princess?” Fox asked.
Zoya cleared her throat. “Since the savul expedition, she’s been under heavier guard. I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to come with us, especially since Emperor Shifang has been taking up much of her time.”
Jealousy slithered through his mind like a serpent. “Fox, stay at the palace,” I ordered. “I don’t think anyone should be leaving the princess alone with people we don’t trust, her fiancé most of all. She told him you were her guard. What guard leaves the palace without his charge?”
Fox looked torn. And besides, I added, you both have issues that need resolving.
“I’m not going to let you go without me watching your back.”
“I’ll protect her,” Kalen volunteered quietly.
Both men looked at each other. Some unspoken understanding passed between them, and Fox nodded reluctantly. “Not one hair on her head,” he warned.
“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” I complained.
“If you say so,” Kal
en replied.
Walking into the city was an unexpected, blessed relief. There were still wards there, preventing me from establishing contact with the azi, and when Kalen tried out a few of his own runes, they were still less than half the strength they should’ve been, as Zoya had found out the day we first arrived in Santiang. Still, it was better than nothing, and I drew Compulsion for a few seconds, just to savor the feeling.
Compelling someone without a heartsglass was like walking underwater with the current against you, and the lesser potency of the runes here made it even harder. I hesitated—the half rune I’d traced lingered in the air, struggling to retain its shape.
“Tea?” Likh whispered when it became apparent that the guards accompanying us were still walking of their own volition. I hesitated again.
“What’s wrong?” Kalen asked quietly.
“I don’t—” My eyes moved from the guards back to him. “I don’t…maybe I shouldn’t—”
The Deathseeker’s face cleared, understanding. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. We’ll do it some other way.”
“No.” I forced myself to finish the rune, and the guards froze, their eyes blank.
“Are you sure?” His voice was low. “You’re right. Not after—it’s not fair to ask you to do this.”
“It boils down to necessity, I guess.” At my silent command, the men began to move. Just to be sure we were unwatched, I explored the surroundings carefully with my mind and found no spies. “And you’re right. You’re different from those guards.”
Kalen looked at me, moved to speak, then thought better of it.
I goaded the soldiers into a nearby inn, made them pay for rooms, and soon they were fast asleep on their beds. Before we returned, I would coax them into waking, with none of them the wiser.
Santiang was a city both strange and familiar. I could see the same influences in their architecture that defined the homes and temples of Ankyo, from their arched slopes to their slanting roofs. But while Ankyons had a preference for bungalows and residences no more than two or three landings high, Santiang houses were tower spires that reached as high into the sky as they dared, with different families occupying every floor. The roads were narrower than Odalia’s, save for the one leading from the palace out to the city gates.
