“Of course. Have a seat.” She takes her place behind the mortar. “I hope you don’t mind if I work. Isoka may need more when she wakes up.”
“How is she?”
“Pushing herself too hard, as usual. Hurting herself trying to do things that she could safely leave to others.” She grinds a little harder for a moment, then sighs. “I heard what happened in the Fourth Ward. You and Zarun saved her. Thank you.”
“I … had to do something.” I shift uncomfortably. “I should be the one thanking you, I think.”
“For this?” Meroe raises the pestle. “It’s nothing.”
“Not just that. Isoka’s … we talked a little bit, after the fighting. She’s … different.” I settle into the cushion, as she rhythmically scrapes stone against stone. “How much did she tell you about our life here?”
“Most of it, I think.”
Isoka must really trust her. As far as I knew, she’d never told anyone the whole truth, not even Hagan or Ofalo. Everyone had half a story, the better to keep me safe. For all the good that did against Naga.
“She would … come to me,” I say, carefully. “To visit. She’d be dressed up in a kizen, nothing like the sister I remembered, and we’d sit in the big house in the Third Ward and … pretend, I guess. That this was normal. That this was actually what our life was like, this safety, with plum juice and dumplings.”
“Your sister loves you,” Meroe says. “She told me, on Soliton, that she knew she ought to stay away for your sake, but she couldn’t bear not seeing you.”
“I know,” I say. “I’m not sure I ever really understood why she needed that from me, that little bit of playing pretend, but I always knew it. I was happy to play along. After everything she’s done for me…” I take a deep breath. “But talking to her now, she’s different. She still cares about me, but there isn’t that need. At first I was terrified that when she realized I wasn’t the perfect little girl she remembered, she wouldn’t want me anymore. But…”
“Isoka loves you no matter what,” Meroe says. “Please believe that.”
I nod. “There’s a difference, I think. Between love, and that need. Whatever it is, I think it’s because of you.”
“Maybe.” Meroe lifts the pestle, frowns, and tosses in another chunk of mushroom. “I can’t say I haven’t done my best. But she saved me first, before she had any reason to. I think I’ve just had to help her understand who she really is. That she’s not a monster.”
Monster. The voices chitter in the back of my mind. Monster, monster, monster. “Of course she’s not. She did what she had to do.”
“She did. So did you, I imagine.”
I blink at her, wide-eyed. Meroe giggles, and leans forward to pat my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “You’re just … you have an honest face, we’d say back home. It shows what you’re feeling. At least to me.” She gives me a sympathetic shrug. “Don’t worry. I have special training.”
“Training as a mind-reader?”
That makes her stop for a moment, wearing an odd expression. I’m tempted to reach out with Kindre, but I restrain myself.
“No,” she says. “Training as a princess.”
I eye her suspiciously. “Does that mean something different where you come from?”
“It means the daughter of a king.”
“But—you’re really—”
She nods cheerily, attacking the mushroom with extra vigor. I boggle quietly—Isoka had called Meroe her princess, but I hadn’t realized she’d meant it literally. It takes me a few moments to figure out what to say.
“How did you end up here, then?”
“Long story.” She pauses, cocking her head. “Well, not that long. My father found out I’m a Ghul adept, had me kidnapped and sacrificed to Soliton. Isoka saved my life and then I saved hers. I wanted to kiss her really badly but it took me a while to figure out that she wanted the same thing. We took over the ship and”—she waves a hand vaguely—“some more things happened, and then I came with her to come pick you up. Oh, and somewhere in there I realized I’d fallen in love with her.”
“I…” I focus on the most obvious thing. “You’re a Ghul adept?”
“Yeah. Please don’t scream. I promise not to give you bleeding tumors.”
“I’m not.…” I shake my head. “I worked at a hospital for a long time run by a woman we called Grandma Tadeka. She … was … a Ghul user. Probably only a talent, but she saved so many people. I know we’re supposed to be afraid of ghulwitches, but I couldn’t be, after that.”
Meroe breathes out, looking down into her mortar. “Well, that’s something. It still scares me, admitting it out loud.” She swallows. “And you’re a Kindre adept.”
I give a small nod.
“In Nimar,” Meroe says, still not looking up, “we’re more afraid of people like you than we are of ghulwitches. There are horror stories about what you can do.”
“They’re probably true.”
“Isoka told me about the Blues. How you would use people who were going to be executed.” She raises her head, finally, and gives me a smile. “After what happened when we first tried to hand out food, the riot, I really thought what it must be like for you. Stuck in the middle of this, people behaving horribly, and you could just…”
“Reach out and fix them,” I whisper. “It would be so easy.”
“But you haven’t.” She goes back to grinding. “Like I said, you did what you had to. Just like Isoka.”
“I don’t…” I swallow, and fall silent while she raises the pestle with a satisfied look and starts scraping the ground bits into a clay jug. “I wanted to ask you something.”
“You mentioned,” Meroe says cheerfully. “What is it?”
“If I tell Isoka I’m willing to go with her, on Soliton, do you think she’d agree to take some of the others along? Not everyone, just the people who … would do badly, if we left them behind.”
Meroe blinks. “Of course she would. It’s not like there isn’t room on Soliton, or at the Harbor. But I don’t know if she’ll want to leave.”
“That was all she wanted, when you first got here. She tried to get me to abandon the rebels.”
“Well.” Meroe looks a little guilty. “I may have reminded her that helping you was the right thing to do.”
“She’s done more than I could have hoped,” I say. “But now it’s finished. We can’t fight the Legions. They’ll get over the wall, and whoever tries to stop them is going to die. It’s time to save what we can.”
Meroe regards me with wide, bright eyes. “I’ve been thinking about that. Maybe you can answer a question for me.”
“If I can.”
“Why did it take the Legion so long to get here? Why isn’t there one stationed near the capital? In Nimar, the Royal Guard Regiments are always barracked near the palace, so they’re close by if the king needs them.”
“It’s different in the Empire,” I say. “All our enemies are a long way from Kahnzoka, up in the north or down on the southern border.”
“And the Emperors don’t worry about rebellions? They used to, at least.” Meroe nods at the closest window. “Look at this city. It has more walls inside than it does around the outside. The whole place is built to defend the top of the hill from the bottom.”
“There’s a long history of rebellion in Kahnzoka.” I’d learned a little bit about that in my studies, and more when I was going through the Pear Wing library looking for material to argue with Avyn. “It just seems to happen two or three times a century, like major fires.”
“That was my impression,” Meroe says. “But the Emperor still doesn’t want to keep a Legion nearby, just in case?”
“I don’t think the Emperor has much say in the matter,” I mutter. It’s an off-hand comment, but I freeze in place. “Wait.”
“Hmm?” Meroe raises an eyebrow.
“There used to be a Legion based near the capital. Just on the other side of Dragonbac
k. I remember reading about it. That was in the reign of Emperor Farada, the current Emperor’s grandfather.” He’d been a quiet, mostly ineffectual ruler, according to the histories. But he’d lived a long time, and after his death—
That was when Kuon Naga came to power. The Immortals had always been a palace guard, but it was Naga who’d made them into a secret police, aimed at political dominance as well as rooting out rogue mage-bloods.
“The Legion was here,” I say, slowly. “It was sent away sometime after Emperor Farada’s death. About forty years ago.”
“Do you know why?”
I shake my head. “Probably it was needed at the frontiers.” But the timing doesn’t fit. The last war with Jyashtan had been ten years before that, and—“Naga. It has to be Naga.”
“Isoka describes him as something of a power behind the throne.”
“Exactly.” My mind is racing ahead to a conclusion. “And he wouldn’t want a Legion nearby, because they’re the only force in the Empire that can stand up to the Immortals. And the Immortals might be loyal to Naga, but the Legions are sworn to obey the Emperor.”
“You sound like someone who’s just had a dangerous idea,” Meroe says, with a sly smile.
I feel suddenly breathless. “A very dangerous idea, I think.”
ISOKA
I wake up feeling like a blueshell used my left arm as a chew toy, which is a considerable improvement over how I felt last night.
Night? Day? I’ve lost track. It’s midmorning now, and we’re not all dead, so not too much time can have passed.
I sit up with a groan, clenching my left fist experimentally. I can feel the tug of healing skin, and my grip seems a bit weaker than normal, but the pain is manageable. Thank the Blessed for the ointment Meroe got from Sister Cadua. I wonder, for a moment, how Sister Cadua is faring, and Shiara, Lady Catoria, and the others we left behind at the Harbor. With Prime gone, there shouldn’t be any danger in that ancient, overgrown city. Or so I hope.
I force myself out of bed, and spend a few moments breathing deep, fighting the bands of pain around my chest. That Immortal—Kadi—had delivered a beating worse than anything I’ve had since I fought my first hammerhead.
“Isoka?” Meroe’s voice, from outside the door. “Are you up?”
“More or less.”
“Tori’s here. We need to talk to you about something.”
Oh, rot. What’s happened now? Things had been bad enough last night when Meroe frog-marched me back to headquarters to rest. I’d been busy arranging the defenses on the western wall, putting every soldier the Red Sashes could spare into position, with archers up top and teams ready to counterattack the inevitable breaches. I didn’t fool myself into thinking it would be enough. Everyone knew the Legions had plenty of mage-bloods, and Jack, Zarun, and I had demonstrated for ourselves what just a few adepts could do against masses of ordinary soldiers.
But what else can I do? Abandon my home city and the people I’d fought alongside, force Tori to flee, and make sure my sister hated me? We had a moment of connection, up on the battlements, something new and fragile. I want to let it grow, not stomp it underfoot. Try to negotiate with Naga? Hard enough before we’d shown our cards, but now he held the winning hand. Why should he bother?
I feel trapped, like I was back in the Ring with the Butcher closing in—no way to run without surrendering everything, and no way to fight and hope to win. So now what?
Meroe and Tori come in. Faint lines stripe Tori’s face and shoulders, the familiar marks of powerburn. Whatever invisible contest she’d had with Kuon Naga’s Kindre user, it had been nearly as fierce as my own. She seems full of energy, though, practically bouncing on her feet. Meroe fixes me with a knowing grin.
“Are we under attack?” I ask them.
“Not yet,” Tori says. “Giniva tells me the Legion is still moving into place. We’re expecting them at dawn tomorrow.”
One more day, then, to build a sandcastle and hope it can hold back the sea. “So what’s going on?”
“We have an idea,” Tori says. “A plan. Kind of a plan.”
“Tori made a friend in the palace,” Meroe says.
“Oh?” I’m not sure where they’re going with this. “Can they give us any useful information?”
“In a way,” Tori says. “His name is Avyn, and he’s … um … the Emperor.”
“The Emperor.” I look between them. “You just … made friends with the Emperor.”
“More or less,” Tori says.
“How did you even get to see the Emperor?”
“We met in the library,” Tori says. “Listen, I know it sounds crazy. He’s practically a prisoner in his own palace. Kuon Naga runs everything. But Avyn knows all these secret passages, and he’s got a Xenos Well power that lets him hide, so he sneaks out. He was the one who helped me escape when you came for me.”
“You didn’t think this was worth mentioning earlier?” I ask incredulously.
“We haven’t exactly had a lot of time to catch up,” Tori says. “And I promised him I wouldn’t tell anybody. If he gets caught they’ll throw him in a box ‘for his own safety.’ But he’s willing to listen, I swear.”
“I can certainly believe that Naga’s running things,” I mutter. “But what does this actually change? Even if … Avyn were inclined to listen to us, you just said he’s not actually in charge of anything.”
“Because Naga controls the Immortals, and nobody can stand up to the Immortals,” Tori says. She’s speaking too fast, almost tripping over her words. “But the Legion can. And the Legion might listen to what the Emperor has to say.”
“It makes sense,” Meroe says, putting a hand on Tori’s shoulder as she stops for breath. “It explains why Naga has taken so long to bring in the Legion. He’s been afraid of destabilizing his position politically.”
“And you think you can convince the Emperor to help?” My eyes narrow. “You don’t mean—”
“Not with Kindre,” Tori says, flushing a little. “Naga’s Immortals would stop me anyway. I don’t know if Avyn agrees with the rebellion, but he’s certainly eager to be out from under Naga’s thumb. If we offer him a chance at that, I think he’ll take it.”
“All right.” I take a deep breath. “So that means, what? We have to break into the palace, then somehow get the Emperor to a place where he can appeal to the Legion before tomorrow morning? And hope Naga doesn’t get in the way?”
“I had … some thoughts on that,” Meroe says. “Trying to get the Emperor to the Legion camp won’t work. He wouldn’t be able to reach everyone before the Immortals counterattack. I think our best chance is to have him talk to them when they’re formed up for battle tomorrow morning.”
“Except that if we break into the palace and steal the Emperor—which, let me add, is a pretty rotting crazy thing to try—then Naga will know what’s happening and change his plans.”
“Right.” Meroe’s eyes are bright. “So we wait until the Legion is getting ready to attack, stall them at the walls, and then get the Emperor. Naga won’t have time to react.”
“Meroe.” I shake my head. “It’s a good plan, except that both parts of it are impossible. We can’t stop the Legion at the walls, and we certainly can’t abduct the Emperor.”
“That’s what I’ve been working on.” She looks at Tori, who gives a hesitant nod. “I think I know how to do it. But it’s going to be … well…”
She explains. I listen, my brow creasing deeper as she goes on. Now and then Meroe glances at Tori for backup, and my sister gives another nod. She seems reluctant to meet my eye.
When they’re finished, I take a deep breath.
“Tori,” I say, “can I speak with Meroe alone for a moment?”
Tori gives another wordless nod and slips out the door. I stare at Meroe.
“It’ll work,” Meroe says. “You’ve seen what she’s done with the Blues.”
“I have,” I say. “Frankly that isn’t rotting reassurin
g. I thought you were the one who couldn’t bear the thought of a Kindre adept.”
“I admit it still turns my stomach,” she says, disgustingly cheerful. “But that’s just my training. I’m a Ghul adept, I should know that better than anyone. If this is the only way…”
“It’s still a rotting big risk. She’s just…” I glance at the door and lower my voice. “She’s just a kid. If she’s wrong and screws this up, a lot of people are going to die. I could die. Or worse.”
Meroe steps closer to me. “When you were hurt, on the march to the Garden, you asked me to heal you. Even though you saw … what happened to Berun.” Her throat works. “You trusted me.”
“That was different,” I say weakly. “You’re … different.”
“I trust Tori,” Meroe says. “You should, too.”
There’s a long pause.
“Well.” I let out a breath. “Even if we assume this is going to work as planned, there’s another problem we’re going to have to deal with.”
Meroe’s grin returns. “Isn’t there always?”
17
TORI
We start our work long before dawn, while a handful of stars still glitter overhead through gaps in the clouds. I’ve had time for only a few hours’ sleep, but I was lying awake even before the Blues came to knock on my door. I should be exhausted, but instead I’m shot through with nervous energy.
This is it. One way or the other.
I’m getting dressed when I get the word that Kosura and her people have arrived. I hurry downstairs to meet them, and find a group of a dozen shaven-headed, white-robed Returners pointedly ignoring an equal number of armed Red Sashes. Kosura stands at their head. She gives me a bow as I come over, and I return it.
“Thank you for coming,” I tell her.
“It was … the least I could do.” A shadow passes across her face. “Do we have time for a moment alone?”
“Of course.”
I wave the rebels aside and head to one of the back rooms. Kosura settles onto a cushion, and I sit across from her. It reminds me of our last meeting, though the battered, ugly barracks/headquarters has nothing in common with the ancient elegance of her temple. But Kosura looks as calm and as perfect as ever, in spite of her scars.
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