Palace of Silver

by Hannah West

  Something was happening. I didn’t know where Viteus was, but I couldn’t risk missing the chance to act on a signal from the priest.

  I started to follow them to the Edifice of the Fallen, but the memory of the cool, dark wine cellar threatened to overwhelm my senses. I felt cold, and the scent of sour fermentation mixed with gore seeped its unwelcome way back into my mind.

  I took a deep breath. I was an elicromancer now—again—facing mere mortals.

  And I couldn’t let the Uprising hurt anyone ever again.

  Touching my stone through my collar for encouragement, I wove my way through the courtyard crowd to the mouth of the staircase. I limped quietly down, arriving in a candlelit underground corridor. Stone pillars engraved with winding thorns led the way to a table holding a bowl of ashes and folded brown rags. Beyond that, a stone archway opened into a temple with an immense mirror and disturbing murals. Talva, the ambassador’s daughter, had described the dim, subterranean edifices, but this was more unsettling than I had imagined. From where I stood at the threshold, I could see two of the four Fallen deities reigning over suffering supplicants. Depravity was more beast than human, a monstrosity of teeth and exposed muscle. Apathy was a gnarled woman whose upper body was wrapped in sheer cobwebs. Her lower half had been overtaken by rampant gray vegetation.

  Directly ahead, the altar attendant and the girl stood before the mirror in profile. The girl had lifted her veil in the seclusion of the edifice, revealing short brown hair and an older version of a pretty face I remembered from a ball in Yorth years ago.

  Princess Navara.

  Anticipation rushed through me. If the priest recognized the huntsman, and the princess had come with him, did that mean Glisette was here too?

  “I’m so looking forward to seeing Father Frangos’s famed collection,” Navara said, clasping her hands.

  “It’s here, Your Highness,” the boy said, swinging the mirror away from the wall to reveal an iron door with a bolt lock. “But only Father Frangos has the key.”

  “And you summoned him?”

  “Yes.”

  “Could you tell him to hurry?”

  “He’s eighty-six years old, Your Highness.”

  Navara huffed and crossed her arms. Her impatient gaze slung back to the staircase. She gasped when she saw me poised at the entrance.

  The altar attendant slammed the mirror back into place. “Who are you?”

  “Nagak!” I shouted. A burst of white light and magic jolted out of my elicrin stone and rammed into him, thrusting him against the mirror. Navara screeched and reared back in surprise. The glass shattered and the boy dropped on the floor.

  “Oh! That was stronger than I expected.” I peeled the scarf from the lower half of my face. “Navara, I’m Kadri Lillis.”

  “I remember you! My father and I came to your engagement celebration in Yorth. Did the Realm Alliance send you?” she asked, hopeful.

  “I am with the Realm Alliance, but I’m the only one.”

  “Wait a moment. You’re a mortal. How—?”

  “We have to go,” I said, seizing her elbows. “That boy and Father Frangos are working with the Uprising. Come, before their agents find us.”

  “I can’t leave until I get what I came here for,” she insisted. “If you’re the only elicromancer who’s come to help us, that means we still need it. It will take more than one of you to defeat Ambrosine and Nexantius.”

  “Nexantius?” I repeated, bewildered.

  I heard footsteps and turned to find the old priest descending to the edifice.

  “Father!” she called, hurrying to meet the old man. “I’m looking for something that I think may be in your vault. Will you help me?”

  “Of course I will help you, my blessed princess,” the old man said, patting her hand. “We are going to keep you safe.”

  That we resounded menacingly in my mind. We meant Viteus and his henchmen. We meant an entire network of clergy members who were eager to claim the princess as their champion, as the restorer of Agrimas.

  “The Holies have provided for us on this day.” Father Frangos looked beyond the princess and his smile fell. He narrowed his eyes at the shattered glass and the boy lying unconscious on the floor. “What happened here?”

  “He touched my arm,” Navara explained. “My friend here thought he was trying to hurt me and…overreacted.”

  “Stupid boy,” the old man wheezed. “He should have known not to lay a finger on you. He won’t bother you again. We will keep you safe.”

  “I am safe, Father,” Navara argued. “I only need access to the vault. I believe you possess an artifact that will help us overthrow the usurper queen.”

  “Someday, all the treasures in my keeping will be yours,” he said, clearly placating her. “But for the moment, you will be going to a secure hideout with worthy comforts. You will remain there until Ambrosine Lorenthi is no longer a threat to your life. These men will take you there and protect you.”

  He gestured behind him. Viteus jogged down the stairs, that same treacherous knife that he had used to murder poor Lucrez bumping against his thigh. The other two men from Orturio’s estate followed him.

  A primal fear set my heart thumping. It didn’t matter to my racing pulse that I had recovered my elicrin stone, that powerful magic now coursed through my veins. This cruel, violent man knew no limits.

  When Viteus noticed me, he didn’t seem surprised. He must not have known about Orturio’s death or about my escape. He probably thought Orturio was still using me to make sure Glisette allowed Navara to leave with them.

  “Your Highness.” Viteus brushed back his slick swell of hair and bowed to Navara. “I am delighted to see you alive and well.” He gestured at me. “Our associate here will put your companions at ease. They will be relieved to no longer bear the burden of protecting the precious jewel of Perispos. But we must hurry before the queen’s guards find us.”

  His ingratiating words made my skin crawl, and I wasn’t alone. Navara looked to me, uncertainty clouding her expression.

  “Plans have changed,” I replied, fury taking command of my voice. My fear dissolved in the heat of my anger. “She’s not going with you, you reprobate puddle of piss.”

  Tension filled the air between us. Viteus flexed his knife hand, but he merely sneered at me. “When Lord Orturio hears about this—”

  “Oh, he won’t,” I laughed darkly. “I killed him. And his uncle.”

  “You’re lying,” he said.

  “I’m afraid not.” I removed my elicrin stone from its hiding spot and watched him register the turning of the tables. I raised a hand. “Nagak!”

  But I missed Viteus, instead hitting the man behind him. He flew back, striking his hip and shoulder against one of the thorn-engraved pillars. His bark of pain echoed up the passage. I cringed, hoping we wouldn’t draw any guards down here. I tried the spell on Viteus again, but he jolted out of the way and the spell hit the wall. I had seen elicromancers block plenty of spells but had no idea that dodging one was as easy as sidestepping waste tossed from a window.

  He drew his hooked knife. My vision blurred red as I remembered Lucrez struggling and screaming before she died at his hand.

  More steps thundered down the stairs. I looked up and saw the groom from before. He stopped and scanned the edifice, taking in Viteus and his naked blade, Father Frangos, Navara, me, and the unconscious altar attendant. As the tall, veiled bride followed him, he splayed his arm out in a protective motion that made me wonder if they were indeed who I thought they were. Maybe they were real lovers stumbling into an unfortunate situation.

  But then the bride ripped off her veil, revealing flaxen hair only slightly mussed by the pins clinging to it.

  “Kadri?” Glisette asked in utter disbelief.

  THIRTY

  GLISETTE

  A FEW MOMENTS BEFORE

  THE priest almost put himself to sleep with his liturgy. I would regret it later, but I gripped Sev’s hand l
ike floating driftwood in a violent storm.

  The comfort didn’t last long. I felt him tense up. He had witnessed some sort of disturbance through the edifice windows over my shoulder. His eyes darted about in alarm. What was happening?

  He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, restless, before leaning in and uttering in a low voice, “With all due respect, Father, could we make this quick?”

  The old man blinked at him. “Goodness, young man! Are you that anxious to consummate?” He squinted through my veil, as though a certain degree of beauty might explain Sev’s eagerness. I wanted to shrink down, to become invisible. Thankfully, the opacity of the fabric thwarted his gaze. He cleared his throat and said, “I’ll skip to the end then, I suppose.”

  At last he tapered off and wished us healthy children, muttering that we would have many, eager as we were. People cheered as we exited the edifice, but soon shifted their attention to the next eager party in finer clothes.

  “Navara followed an altar boy down to the Edifice of the Fallen,” Sev said in my ear, leading me by the hand. “I saw him signal to someone.”

  A distant shout carried over the noise of the crowd. It sounded like it was echoing up from underground.

  Sev pushed his way through the heedless revelers. When we reached the top of the stairwell, I could feel the pull of something unnatural that willed me into the cavernous underground temple.

  I followed Sev down. He jerked to a halt at the bottom of the stairs, and when I drew even with him, I saw why.

  We had stumbled upon a standoff. After registering the weapons and the number of possible opponents, I noticed Navara, who stood at the apex of this odd formation, and beside her…

  It couldn’t be. I ripped away the veil and blinked at my friend. “Kadri?”

  It was her.

  I couldn’t think of a time when I’d been happier to see a familiar face.

  She wore a necklace that looked suspiciously like an elicrin stone, gradient violet and sapphire. I had only ever seen comparable colors in the fay dwelling, where everything had been so saturated and vibrant.

  The stone held a faint glow of lurking magic, which the untrained eye might not see.

  But how? What did this mean? Had Valory—?

  “No bloodshed is necessary,” the old priest said, shattering the fragile silence.

  “He’s right.” A young man with slick dark hair and keen eyes said. He shot a glare at Kadri. “You know our mission is to protect Her Highness. She will be safer with us than with anyone else.”

  How would Kadri know these men? Why was she here??

  “Safe in some ways,” Kadri agreed. She shifted her weight, and I noticed her favoring one leg. “But not in others. She will not be free to think for herself.” Hatred flamed in her eyes. Kadri was typically bright-humored and full of grace. This man had committed some unforgivable act.

  “Princess,” he said, appealing to Navara instead. “We have resources, and deep roots in the faith—the faith your mother raised you to hold sacred. Elicromancers have their own plans for this world. They don’t care who sits on your throne. But we, the Uprising, are devoted to seeing you crowned.”

  “They want to use you, Navara,” Kadri said.

  “To persecute anyone who does not follow Agrimas,” Sev added.

  “Do you know who was a member of the Uprising, blessed princess?” Father Frangos asked. “The high priest, Father Peramati. Every priest is, except for those who have strayed from their calling. They are lazy. They do not guide the flock. They drink wine all day and watch the faith crumble. They are guilty of Apathy, unlike those of us who fight to preserve the old ways—who fight to protect you.”

  Navara swung an uncertain glance at each face in the edifice. “I cannot bring hope and help to my people while safely hidden away.”

  “Nor can you bring hope and help if you’re dead,” the priest replied. “Once you are safe, we will provide whatever resources you desire, whatever you need from my collection.” He gestured at the vault. “Just say the word. I will send anything you request. But you must agree to go with these men.”

  Navara’s eyes swept over the ghastly murals on their way to look to me for guidance. I was touched to see such trust in her eyes. I shook my head, my fingers longing to touch my hidden blade.

  “I suppose it is foolish to stay on the run when there’s a safe hideout waiting for me,” she said, surprising me. “If the guards find us, the queen will kill me, and my people will have nothing.”

  Was this a ploy to get inside the vault? It couldn’t be—the priest hadn’t promised her access to it until she was “safe.” It was more likely she was trying to spare us a bloody brawl. But she must know we wouldn’t let her sacrifice her safety for ours.

  “What are you doing, Navara?” I asked.

  She ignored me. “My friends have taken care of me,” she continued, confirming my fears. “I will only go if you swear on Eulippa’s gentle hand that you will not hurt or hunt them.”

  “We swear on Eulippa’s gentle hand,” the younger agent said, placing his hand over his heart, but his sycophantic manner made his attempt at sincerity sound quite the opposite.

  Navara nodded and dutifully crossed the edifice to join him. He gave her a thin, oily smile.

  Oh, Navara, don’t do this, I thought, still restive with the urge to unsheathe Sev’s knife from the harness at my thigh. There’s a difference between courageous and reckless.

  But Navara never stopped walking. As soon as she reached the Uprising agents, she slipped through their ranks and bolted straight for the stairs. Sev and I stepped aside to let her pass. Good, clever girl, I thought, hiking up my skirt to at last draw my weapon.

  “Take Orfeo and ride hard!” Sev called after her. He unsheathed his knife and attacked the man who lunged to chase her.

  Sev wielded his weapon like an extension of his body. He shifted his stance once, and again, light on his feet. He dodged a swipe at his chest and cut his blade in every direction to create his own sort of shield.

  The smarmy leader sprinted to the exit to run after Navara.

  “Nagak!” Kadri called, clipping his shoulder with her spell. She needed mentorship, but the spell held power, enough to slam him sideways against the wall, to slow him down.

  Father Frangos doddered unsteadily toward the smashed mirror and patted the altar boy hard on the cheek to wake him. The boy groaned and pushed himself up from the broken glass. Father Frangos unlocked the vault and dragged open the door. The boy joined him, and Father Frangos locked the both of them safely inside.

  That left me to engage the third man. The exhilaration of battle made my scar tingle with the memory of the blade that had rent my flesh. I had faced more frightening enemies than these, but my elicrin stone had always allowed me to maintain a little distance. Now I had no shield to erect, no spells to cast, no control over the magic that had already brought misery to the innocent people of Perispos. I didn’t even have a sword, my weapon of choice.

  But I would have to make do.

  The man lunged for my gut, and I resisted the urge to try to block him, as I would with a much longer blade. Instead, ducking under his elbow, I slid the knife beneath his ribs, ripping the bust of Stasi’s dress clear up the seam in the process. The cut into his flesh was long but shallow, earning only a grunt before he whirled on me.

  Taking a cue from Sev, I danced around unpredictably. In my periphery I could see Sev wrestling with his opponent. They had suspended each other’s knife-wielding hands and were jabbing with shoulders and knees to try to regain the advantage.

  The leader recovered and made another dash for the exit, desperate to catch Navara. Kadri chose a more appropriate spell, umrac korat, but her aim was so haphazard that the bright light struck the wall far over his head, carving out a divot.

  “I’m sorry! I didn’t have a clear shot!” she said to me.

  “Use praenthar ilmen!” I yelled. The spell would erect a stone barrier to st
op him. She repeated it and a wall of stones appeared from thin air, but it was too late. He was gone. It only barricaded us inside with our remaining opponents.

  The distraction cost me. My adversary pounced closer and seized my wrist, turning my knife away from him. I bared my teeth, struggling against his sheer strength. He spun me around and shoved me against the wall. My cheek smashed against a painting of a woman suffering at Themera’s feet.

  “Glisette!” Sev yelled. Even in the midst of my terror, there was something so powerful about hearing him call out my name.

  “Got any more knives hidden under there?” my assailant whispered in my ear, his breaths grazing the back of my neck. His greedy hands, damp with sweat, bunched up the folds of my skirt as he felt along my thigh.

  Fury burned like a wall of fire in my chest. I smacked the hard back of my skull against what I could only hope was his nose. He released me and stumbled away.

  Kadri intervened with the slashing spell. I heard a guttural noise. When I faced my opponent, he was swaying on his feet. He fell with a hard thwack on the stones.

  Kadri stared at the deep, bloody carve marks crossing his back.

  Those magic-etched, murderous slashes…the edifice…

  The searing, horrid memory of Perennia pummeled me. I felt like I was falling, drowning in icy darkness. I needed to get control of myself. Guards waited at the entrance to the village, guards seeking any sign of me or Navara, who was alone and exposed.

  My untethered magic, driven by grief, would not respond to the small voice in my head that tried desperately to soothe. But Kadri was already here, catching me in her embrace, bringing the kind of warmth and love that had previously felt as distant as Perennia’s smile.

  I wept into her shoulder. I didn’t realize I’d spoken my sister’s name aloud until Kadri said, “I know. I’m so sorry.”

  Concern for Sev and Navara yanked me back to the present reality. I realized how oddly quiet the edifice seemed now, following the shouts and cries of pain.