by L J Andrews
Isa furrowed her brow and whispered. “Watchers? I don’t understand the term.”
Jakai chuckled and took another sip. “Oh, every Emperor has Watchers. They are the silent, underground, knowledge ring designed to report back to the emperors. Times are dangerous to be on a throne. Watchers are needed to sniff out any threat to their emperor.”
Isa scoffed. “It doesn’t seem as though he did his job well, since Abram is dead.”
“Well, it’s rumored he might have double-crossed. But I suppose we’ll never know.” Jakai dabbed the corner of his flat bread in the greenish oil before offering the plate to Isa. “Ah, I’ve seen that man several times as of late. Though I don’t know his name, or position, he seems to have earned many invitations to dine with the General.”
Isa drifted her gaze down the table. The bite of bread caught in her throat and she was forced to clutch her chest as she coughed against the bulge. Her eyes widened. Master Kish was seated at the same table.
He grinned in his delightful way and Isa felt the bridge of her cheeks heat. She’d only witnessed Kish donned in black in Thieves Waste, but tonight he was pressed and polished in a fine gold tunic. If possible, the Ladroa Master was even more delightful on the eyes.
“Lady Aba, are you alright?” Jakai asked as Isa slurped her own glass.
“Forgive me,” she said through a smile, feeling Kish’s eyes pouring into her from down the table. “I swallowed wrong.”
She glanced at the master from the corner of her eye and he winked. With a narrowed gaze she stared at her bubbling glass. Clearly Kish was after something and if she had to guess, she imagined it was the same items Hadeon wanted. He was a master, but Isa would fight to the bitter end before the Ladroa bested her.
The main doors swung open and Kawal stood in the center. A regal cape clung to his breastplate he never seemed to part with, and he held up one arm that had a woman feebly attached. His bride. She had milky skin with raven hair and a pinched expression as if she’d caught the scent of something terrible.
“Welcome friends,” Kawal boomed. His bride, the Lady Angelet, released his arm at the first opportunity and took her place off the head of the table. Her gaze was trained ahead and filled with resentment and perhaps something even darker. “As always, it is pleasing to see such loyal companions at my table. Eat! There is enough feast and wine to last through the night.”
Murmurs rumbled down the table as a signal to begin eating. A servant placed a silver plate toppled in roasted lamb in front of Isa. She hadn’t had such a meal since her childhood. Bitter herbs and potatoes drizzled in the meat juices.
“Lady Aba,” Kawal said. “What do you think of my wife?”
The general laughed and took a long drink of red wine as he glanced at the pale girl who’d hardly taken a bite.
“She is very beautiful, General. And seems to have quite a spirit.”
Kawal scoffed. “Do you believe in rays and the Mount, Lady Aba? Oh, no need to fear retribution for religion, I myself firmly believe Lightborn exist.”
Isa’s shoulders relaxed as she placed her fork down. “I believe there are powers we don’t understand at times, General. Take the blood moon for example. The vilest creatures venture from the shadows whenever the moon bleeds. Why is that? Perhaps something behind our knowledge beckons to the inner creature within.” Isa’s eyes flicked toward Kish who leaned lazily back in the chair, sipping wine. His beautiful eyes were laughing at her.
“Interesting insight,” Kawal said. “I ask because a diviner said my wife had the voice of a Lightborn. Yes, actually Lightborn, not simply possessing strong rays. I was promised that she would breed talented warrior children; that she descended from fireshapers. But, as you can see she must be barren as a brick and if the gods blessed her then she has withheld any abilities from me. She is defiant, and even refuses to speak in our tongue. Such things aren’t healthy for a union as you can imagine.”
Isa glanced across the table, Kawal’s wife dared lift her eyes. The woman was from Zahara, but by the way her eyes glistened with tears, Isa suspected she understood a great deal.
“Have you considered, General, taking a different wife?” Isa asked.
“Oh, Lady Aba, when the emperor himself gifts the wife of his choosing, who would I be to slap away his hand? Especially if she has gifts. I’m a man who conquers, lady. I plan to win over this cat, and if you assist in the journey, well, I will see you are rewarded. You can see I am a man of no small means.”
Isa straightened the linen napkin over her lap and nodded. “I would ask that I speak with her in her native tongue for a moment.”
“She must learn our ways. Besides, I don’t speak Zaharan,” Kawal said with suspicion.
“Only to establish trust, General. Perhaps, if she understands my purpose she will allow me to help her conform to your expectations. For how can one meet such heights if she does not understand them to begin with?”
Jakai was gripping the folds of his pants as Kawal drummed his fingers along the edge of the table. The voices from the mumbled conversations at the edge of the table faded into nothing as Isa held Kawal’s dark gaze for what seemed hours.
With a sigh of exasperation, the general nodded and took another long drink.
Isa nodded her thanks and turned toward the silent woman. “You know exactly what we’ve been saying, don’t you Lady Angelet?”
She glared at Isa, but slowly nodded. Kawal’s interest was piqued already.
“I know many dialects,” Angelet said.
Kawal slapped the table. “She does speak. Mancour, do you see this? The cat speaks.”
Down the table a man with a crooked nose raised his goblet and bellowed a drunken slur Isa couldn’t make out.
“Why do you resist him when you know it will only add to your suffering?” Isa asked.
“He is a fiend who murders and betrays his own people. How can you serve him—you are a Jershonian. He allowed the slaughter of so many. A vicious betrayal that filtered into my own empire. My family is dead because Emperor Baz made the order to attack the far edge of Zahara under the advice of this beast whom I must call husband.”
“What is she saying, Lady Aba?” Kawal asked.
“She’s describing how her family was killed by the word of Emperor Baz. But you are the general, she holds you responsible.”
Kawal didn’t sneer. To Isa’s astonishment he glanced at Angelet with a strange understanding. “I didn’t give the order to attack Zahara after the overthrow of Jershon.”
“Does it matter?” Angelet continued with a dark chuckle. “He may not of have urged Baz to attack my borders, but look what he has done to his own land. Blood stains his hand.”
“I agree,” said Isa.
Angelet seemed taken aback as she tilted her head. “Then why are you serving him?”
“Because, like you, I am pretending. Perhaps we can help each other.”
“I am not pretending to despise my husband, I do.”
“Fair enough,” Isa said. “He believes you are Lightborn. Do such things exist?”
Angelet pinched her mouth tight and threaded her fingers until it seemed they were tangled in knots. “I don’t wish to say.”
“If you want my help, then you shall say,” Isa said.
Angelet straightened in her seat and glanced at Kawal for the first time of the night. The woman carried herself nobler than any of the ladies at the table, and to Isa, it made her fall into Kawal’s bedroom even more tragic.
“Husband,” Angelet said in accented Jershonian. Kawal nearly choked on his wine. “I wish for Lady Aba to see me in my chamber.”
Kawal gaped for half a breath before shaking his head. “No. For I am a suspicious man, wife. And seeing how you clearly speak my tongue you’ve heard many private conversations.” He tipped his finger under her chin. “And it’s even more clear, you still don’t trust me.”
“I shall tell you what we discussed just now,” Angelet said.
&nb
sp; Isa’s grip tightened around her fork. Perhaps she’d read the woman wrong; admitting she was a fraud was a dangerous gamble and she was readying to pay for her mistake. “Lady Angelet, I don’t know if the General would—”
“Nonsense, Lady Aba. He wishes to hear what I spoke of privately, then he shall know. For in truth, I do wish to please him, as I explained.” Angelet turned back to her husband and grinned wickedly. “I asked the Lady what she knew of womanly cycles. Would you know it, she is trained in midwifery among her skills? You call me barren, I told her of my unusual terms, and she suggested to deal with—”
“By the Mount woman, enough. The blood of soldiers does not turn my stomach, but talk of such things sends my food back up my throat. Fine, go, speak privately. Don’t bother our guests with such talk. Go. Lady Aba, please.” Kawal flicked Isa from her meal with one finger. Unfortunate such a slice of lamb would go to waste.
Angelet sauntered from the room victorious, and again Isa determined she rather liked the woman for her fiery defiance. Turning into a room adjacent the dining hall, Angelet pulled a burgundy shade trimmed in gold over the open window, and slammed the door closed behind Isa.
“Who are you?” she demanded through her teeth.
Isa chuckled and plopped into a velvet chair near a wooden shelf piled with all manner of warfare texts. Her skirt pulled over her ankles as she crooked her knee over one of the chair arms. Sighing pleasantly, Isa breathed in the vines of lavender growing outside the window. “As you can see, I am no lady tutor.”
Flames danced harsher in the gilded lanterns in the room as Angelet glared. “Then I ask again, who are you?”
One corner of Isa’s mouth curled up as the golden flames burned white and fierce. “I am of the Tyv Guild. Do you know what that is?”
Angelet shook her head. “Not exactly, but I know there are guilds of smugglers.”
Isa clicked her tongue and shook her head. “I prefer thief. But not the sort you might think. I steal from wretched people.”
The candle flames calmed.
“Then whom have you come to rob?”
Isa laughed. “I thought it would be quite obvious. Kawal, of course.”
Angelet’s eyes widened. “What does he have that you wish to take? He is dangerous and if you betray him, you will not live long.”
Isa tossed her leg off the armchair and stepped closer to Angelet, so she peered at the woman down her nose. In one swift flick of her wrist the dagger tethered neatly on the inside of Isa’s thigh was tipped against Angelet’s innards. “I can take care of myself, Lady. The question remains are you going to reveal my secret? For if you are, I must tell you I will kill you. Though, I would rather not.”
Isa leapt aside when a burst of flame darted close enough to her face it nearly singed her brow. Angelet laughed. A genuine, happy sound. When she smiled, Lady Angelet looked like she was hardly a woman, but more a gleeful child. In the palm of her hand she held the rippling fire like it was nothing more than a ball of yarn. “I shall keep yours if you keep mine.”
In all her childhood worship of the Mount of Rays, Lightborn, and powers beyond her understanding, Isa had never seen evidence such things existed. Her mouth was dry, and she stumbled over a few attempts to speak before the word slipped out like a fool might form language. “Fireshaper.”
Chapter 20
Fireshaper
Lady Angelet curled her hand tight and the flame extinguished. She smirked and nestled in the open window seat. Staring longingly at the distant port, she sighed. “It isn’t all that impressive, really. That was small. Usually, I can shape a larger flame. I must not be feeling myself.”
Isa nearly swallowed her tongue. “Not that impressive?” She stomped across the room, dropping the dagger in a clatter. “Are you mad, Lady? If you can shape fire, then that means…” she struggled against the grit in her mouth to speak. “…that means Lightborn are real.”
Angelet rolled her eyes. Isa could have slapped her face. How could she be so simple-minded about impossible things. “I can hardly shape fire. There are stronger shapers out in the Bloodlands, hiding and waiting.”
“Waiting for what? If they exist, Lady Angelet, don’t you see, men like Kawal would lose power.”
“Or gain more power. You don’t know the brutality that has befallen the Lightborn through the centuries. I am hardly god-blessed, I can weave fire to come and sit in my palm and toss a few flames. But true shapers can build walls of fire that could block even the strongest armies, but they would never dare use their powers and reveal their true nature.”
Isa crossed her legs beneath her on the seat and stared at the woman. “I don’t understand. Why not?”
“Because Diviners forewarned without the heroes of our land, the Lightborn would be destroyed by blood.”
Isa shook her head. “Heroes? I’ve studied the Mount of Rays since I was child—I worshiped the powers, believed in them so fully, without any evidence. Perhaps I lost faith, but you have restored it. If what I know of the Mount of Rays is true, then no power can rival the Lightborn.”
Angelet hugged her knees against her chest. “If it is so impossible, then why do you suppose the Light King was destroyed in the first place?”
“Well, I can’t say exactly,” Isa said with a furrowed brow. “His enemy, Emperor Mal, must have been Lightborn too.”
“In all your studies, Lady Aba, have you ever heard of the term Nightmaker?”
Isa shook her head.
Angelet sighed. “No, of course not. People refuse to accept that anything, but light can be produced from the Mount of Rays. Those blessed, or cursed, with the power of a Nightmaker have the ability to extinguish other Lightborn of power. They are dark, and history tells us the few Nightmakers that have existed have power with such strength they became less than human. But in the same breath ancient divine scripture spoke of the day when light and dark would restore the peace together. I believe, these heroes I mentioned will have both rays of night and the day. Though, few believe as I do. Darkness has always been feared because of what Mal did in the Shattering War.”
“So, was Mal a Nightmaker?”
“It is what those who worship in the temples believe. It was what my parents believed. So, you can imagine why I keep my rays concealed. Why I haven’t drawn any attention to myself since being forced to marry Kawal.”
Isa took a breath and tried to listen. Closing her eyes, she felt warmth radiating from Angelet. Soft subtle hums filled her mind and she smiled. “I didn’t believe it anymore,” she whispered. “But I can…hear your rays.”
Angelet smiled. “My mother always said my voice brought heat and caused her to sweat.”
Isa nodded. “I can feel the warmth, but it’s comforting. How is this possible?”
“It is, though even some who see what you’ve seen don’t believe. You have a voice as well. Distant to my senses, but…I feel something.”
“I have no voice, Lady,” Isa said with a scoff. “If I have rays, they are but a glimmer compared to yours.”
“Everyone has rays, though some choose to keep their inner light shadowed to be sure.”
“So…” Isa began slowly. “How do you know there are any of these Nightmakers left. You said there were but a handful throughout history.”
“True,” Angelet agreed softly. “But if I had to guess, I would certainly give the title to Sha’run.” She said the name in a whisper, but it sent a shiver down Isa’s spine.
“You truly believe he is one of these Nightmakers.”
Angelet leaned forward and kept her voice low as if listening ears were nearby. “No one has seen Sha’run in years. He hides within his borders collecting Lightborn and halfling slaves. And his Blood Knights—Lady Aba—they are not men. I believe they are demons. My maman always told me, she believed the Blood Knights drank blood to taste for Lightborn rays. If there was a spark, the poor soul would be spared and brought to Sha’run. For what purpose—I can only imagine. And the halflings
, what is his fascination with them? All I can guess is according to historians, the dark rays can only curse a halfling. What is Sha’run looking for in them?”
Isa twirled the end of her hair around her finger. Outside, Jershon prepared to sleep. The clay homes surrounding the marketplace doused lanterns in a ripple effect. Isa smiled, watching families clamber up log ladders to sleep on the flat rooftops and avoid the heat of the night.
“Jershon was once a haven against the other empires.” Isa leaned her cheek against her knee and sighed. “I never thought it would fall. I was banished years before.”
Angelet cocked her head so her ebony hair draped across her arms. “Why were you banished.”
Hadeon would wring her neck if he saw Isa brush away the tinted powder on her skin. Angelet eyed her tanned, creamy skin curiously. “You speak of halflings, so you can understand why I must remain in the dark as well, Lady Angelet.”
“You are a halfling? But, you can return, Lady Aba. Emperor Baz wishes to rule all empires and is removing the bans on halfling blood. If you are a friend, I will do what I can to protect you from Blood Knights. I give my word.”
“Yes, but I am no tutor, so if I return I shall only aspire to a red house like my sister. I was banished not only because of my skin, but because my family was shamed and ruined. My father was a fine nobleman once, but something changed. His mind seemed lost in a dark circle. After too many warnings of the end of our great empire, he was tried as a traitor. Our family was shredded to pieces. My father executed, and the woman who raised me as a mother killed by a stray dagger before my eyes. I was forced to leave the city or suffer the same fate. Though I feel I fared better than my own sister.”
Angelet’s brow furrowed as she rested her palm over Isa’s hand. The Tyv Guild wasn’t known for affection. Brigita was the softest person in the borders, and Isa had felt the sting of her wooden ladle many times over the years. Such a touch was strange, and burned across Isa’s skin. Slowly, she eased her hand away and met the kind smile of Lady Angelet. “Your history hurts my heart. I wish to help you take what you have come to steal. Though I cannot stand the sight of the man, I may know where the item is if you will tell me.”
