by Caitlin Seal
“Don’t be foolish, girl,” Delence said with strained cheer. “We wouldn’t insult Queen Lial by ignoring such a request. We’ll do well enough without you.”
Naya searched the aether. With Delence’s hand on her shoulder, it wasn’t hard to pick his energy out from the crowd. He was obviously annoyed, though whether that was at her or the queen, she couldn’t be sure. The soldiers were farther away and harder to isolate among the energy of the delegates gathered in the hall. Their aether felt sharp and cold against her senses. They feared her, but so did almost every Talmiran who knew what she was.
The soldier who’d spoken first gestured for her to follow. Naya scanned the aether as they walked but didn’t find anything out of the ordinary as the soldier led her around the edge of the palace’s central circle and then to what proved to be a miniature version of the huge dock lifts. Rich carpet covered the floor of the lift, and the ceiling was decorated in a star pattern that mirrored the one in the grand ballroom. The soldier followed her inside, then pulled a small lever. Runes drew aether, and soon the lift began its ascent.
They rose slowly until the soldier turned the lever back and opened the doors. Naya blinked against a sudden rush of sunlight, struggling for a moment to reconcile what she was seeing. A green-and-blue-tiled walkway wound from the lift’s doors to disappear among lush foliage and bright flowers. The room’s ceiling was made entirely of glass, the huge panels bounded by a metal frame that looked too insubstantial for Naya’s comfort.
Faint, strange music sounded from somewhere beyond the lush greenery. Naya closed her eyes. The aether drifting from the plants felt cool and soothing after the flood of harsh emotions that had surrounded her ever since she’d returned to Talmir. Combined with the rich smells of damp earth and growing things, it made her want to curl up and doze in the sun. Reluctantly she pushed the urge aside. She couldn’t imagine why Queen Lial would summon her. But whatever the reason, it would be best to keep her wits sharp.
She followed the soldier around the corner to where the path opened up. Fruit trees and beds of flowers formed a half circle around a delicate table laden with tea and sweets. The wall at the edge of the circle was made of the same glass as the ceiling, offering an incredible view of the city.
Queen Lial sat at the table with the two Endran ambassadors, who were dressed in simpler variants of the flowing pants and tunics they’d worn the night before. Naya recognized Ambassador Bargal from their brief conversation. His companion was a woman with short red-brown hair and striking features. She looked younger than Bargal and wore an impassive expression as she watched a trio of Endran musicians play next to the table. Their instruments were pipes of some sort, each one a slightly different length and shape.
Their music rose and fell in a slow, mournful melody. Naya paused at the edge of the clearing, not wanting to interrupt. Through the aether she could sense the sharp anticipation of soldiers standing guard somewhere nearby.
The song concluded and Ambassador Bargal turned to the queen. “What do you think of our people’s music?”
“It is lovely,” Queen Lial answered with a smile. “Truly. I think there is much we can learn from each other.”
“I agree,” Bargal said with a deep nod. “We’ve stayed separate for far too long.” He glanced over as though noticing Naya for the first time. “But forgive me, you have another guest.”
The queen turned to Naya, and her smile was replaced by a cool expression. “Ah, yes. Business calls. Ambassadors, I’m afraid I must speak to this young woman alone.”
Naya stood awkwardly to the side as the musicians tucked away their instruments and the two ambassadors rose and bowed to the queen. Ambassador Bargal didn’t so much as glance at Naya as he and the others brushed past her—strange after he’d been so eager to speak to her the night before.
“Please, have a seat,” Queen Lial said.
Naya pushed Bargal from her mind and turned to face the queen of Talmir. Queen Lial sat watching Naya over the rim of a porcelain teacup. She wore a high-collared gown of light green with a skirt cut to display its many silken layers. Tiny aether lights woven into the fabric highlighted the subtle color changes among the different skirts.
The queen’s dark hair tumbled artfully from a twisting knot at her neck, and she sat with an air of casual elegance that made Naya feel homely and awkward by comparison. The bones in her hand throbbed as she fought down the sudden image of her hair exploding back out into a snarl of curls. Instead, she willed herself to be the calm, elegant girl she’d seen in her dressing room mirror that morning.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Naya dipped a low curtsy, then sat in the ironwork chair across from the queen. She tried to keep her expression pleasantly neutral, even though a part of her wanted to sprint back to the rune lift. The woman sitting across from her could have her executed at a word. She could claim Naya had tried to attack her. Creator, she might not need any excuse at all.
Queen Lial took a sip of her tea. “You’re wondering why I asked you here,” she said.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
The queen’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “How very polite. Though I can see from your eyes that you’re not at all pleased to be here.”
Naya blinked. “Your Majesty, I—”
“No. Please don’t bother making excuses. I hear more than enough of those as it is. Your unease is understandable, so let me make a few things clear before we continue our conversation. I am aware of the circumstances that led you to be what you are. I know you were not a willing participant in Valn’s schemes, and while Talmiran law makes it very clear you are no longer a citizen, I’m happy to leave any questions about your soul for the Creator to sort out.” She paused and looked intently at Naya as though expecting an answer.
“Thank you?” Naya said after an awkward silence. She wasn’t sure if she should feel impressed or insulted by the declaration. On the one hand, many Talmirans would dismiss her as a monster. It meant something significant that the queen was willing to speak to her like this. On the other hand, she was the queen. She could change the laws about undead citizenship or speak in favor of peace and reconciliation between Talmir and Ceramor. She hadn’t, which made her comments about Naya’s soul little more than a condescending attempt to win her gratitude.
Anger won out and stirred like a hungry beast in Naya’s chest. She drew in aether and fought to quash it. She didn’t know what was going on here, but she couldn’t risk doing anything rash, not if she wanted to leave the garden alive.
The queen watched her with a knowing smile, then selected a red-and-white cookie from the plate next to the teapot. She took a bite, the brittle sweet snapping audibly in the silence. “You’re welcome. Now, let us speak about Belavine. As I understand things, you saw a great deal of the traitor’s plans.”
The queen’s gaze was intent, her golden-brown eyes glittering with a focus that seemed to drill straight through her former subject.
Naya looked down at her folded hands. She didn’t have a heart to pound, but the tension humming in her chest felt liable to shake her apart all the same. “I’m sorry, Your Majesty. Lord Delence made it clear I wasn’t to answer any questions about that until the trial.”
Queen Lial waved the comment away with a dismissive gesture. “Lord Delence isn’t here. And quite frankly I am not convinced he’s been entirely honest in his reports.”
“But you think I will be?” Naya asked, unable to keep the disbelief from her voice.
“Perhaps. After all, he hasn’t been honest with you either.”
“What do you mean?” Naya drew in aether, trying to figure out if the queen was lying. But the little lights in the queen’s skirt were sucking up her aether. Between that and the aether drifting from the plants, it was hard to get a clear read on her emotions.
“I wonder, did Lord Delence tell you I had been planning to withdraw Valn from his
position shortly before the Belavine incident?”
“I—no, Your Majesty,” Naya said.
“I thought not. And I assume he’s told you that I am the true mastermind behind Valn’s scheme?”
“He’s never said that,” Naya said. That much at least wasn’t a lie. Though Delence clearly believed the queen was behind the coup, he’d been careful to avoid saying so outright.
The queen smiled thinly, as though she saw right through the avoidance. “Well, be that as it may, he has made it clear through his actions that he suspects me. He refuses to trust any evidence I offer to the contrary or to work with me in uncovering the truth.”
“What truth would that be?” Naya leaned forward. She wasn’t sure what game Queen Lial was trying to play here. But if the queen was willing to discuss what she knew of Valn, that wasn’t an opportunity Naya could pass up.
Queen Lial set down her teacup. For a moment she seemed lost in thought. “Do you know what I love, Miss Garth? Numbers. Numbers are so much clearer and more honest than people. Often they reveal the little truths that people try to hide. I like to know the truth, so I make a point of always reviewing the kingdom’s financial reports. And in those reports, I found certain numbers regarding Valn’s expenditures that seemed a little too tidy to be real. I suspected something was going on at his embassy, but I had no idea of the scale until I heard the news from Ceramor.”
Naya sat quietly and listened with growing unease.
“The bribes Lord Delence claims were paid to Ceramoran officials represent a substantial amount of money, especially when you consider the added funds needed to supply and ensure the loyalty of Valn’s spy network. I’ve searched my accounts but so far found no indication where that money might have come from. Do you know what that means, Miss Garth?”
“That you need better accountants?” Naya asked.
The queen’s expression darkened and Naya cursed herself for not thinking before speaking. “It means,” Queen Lial said sharply, “that someone is lying to me. If that money left Talmir, then my numbers should show some sign of its passing. They don’t. So either someone inside my government or the guilds is working very hard to hide their traitorous donations, or the money didn’t come from Talmir.”
Naya realized her hands had curled into fists around the fabric of her skirt. She forced her fingers to relax. “Who else would pay to start a coup in Ceramor?” she asked.
“Who else indeed?” Queen Lial asked with a smile. “It seems strange that Delence is so insistent on ignoring my offers of help, especially given how much he has benefited from Valn’s actions.”
“That’s—” Naya snapped her mouth shut. She could tell from the lines of tension around the queen’s eyes that she’d already pushed her luck. Calling the queen a liar to her face did not seem like a good idea. “I’m not sure what all this has to do with me, Your Majesty.”
“It has everything to do with you. After all that happened to you in Belavine, I believe you have very good reasons to want to see Valn’s allies exposed. So why don’t you and I have a nice little talk, and perhaps between your experiences and my numbers, we can find the truth.”
Naya leaned back in her chair. She and Delence had both assumed Queen Lial had supported Valn’s plans from the start. What if they’d been wrong? Valn’s allies could be anyone. They might not even be in Talmir. Lucia’s journals could be on the other side of the world.
Naya felt her thoughts spiraling toward panic as the queen stared at her. “I can’t help you,” she said, hating the waver in her voice. Even if Queen Lial was telling the truth, Naya wouldn’t risk giving her any information. She had too many secrets. One wrong word could expose her as a reaper. And there was a chance this was all a trap, a way for the queen to probe and find out exactly how much Delence did or didn’t know about her involvement with Valn.
The queen picked up another cookie and examined it. “That’s a shame,” she said. “Especially given your circumstances. I heard you had some trouble on your way into the palace.”
Anger surged in Naya’s chest. She had risen halfway from her chair before she realized what she was doing. When she did, she sensed a sharp pull through the aether as the guards hiding among the plants readied wraith eaters. Queen Lial continued to watch her, unmoving. Naya shuddered, then eased herself slowly back to a sitting position. Creator, what had happened to staying in control? “Some trouble?” she asked in a voice that was marginally calmer than she felt. “We were attacked. And your guards weren’t exactly helpful.”
The queen shrugged. “I am willing to overlook the details of your condition. Unfortunately, most of my people are not so open-minded. But…they might be more willing to accept you if you were seen helping clear the good name of Talmir.”
“And if not?” Naya asked.
The queen took another bite of her cookie. She chewed thoughtfully, then dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a perfectly white napkin. “If not, then who knows what might happen.”
Naya’s hands shook as one of the soldiers escorted her out of the queen’s garden. Queen Lial’s threat still rang in her ears. Her chest burned with the memory of the small, confident smile the queen had given her—a smile that seemed to say she was certain Naya would bend to her wishes.
Well, she wouldn’t. Queen Lial might think she was being generous by lowering herself to sit at the same table as one of the undead Talmir so despised. But her condescending attitude had almost been worse than the open hate in the eyes of the crowd that had attacked Naya.
After riding the lift back to the first floor, Naya asked the soldiers escorting her to let her into the Congress meeting. They refused, ignoring her arguments and insisting the meeting wasn’t to be disrupted once it had begun. She considered trying to sneak in, but the risk and effort didn’t seem worthwhile. The only part of the meeting she really cared about was the discussion deciding the final details of Valn’s trial. She could get notes on those details from Francisco or Delence once they were done.
She was nearly back to the Ceramoran delegation’s hall when a familiar voice stopped her. “Naya?”
Naya turned and was surprised to see Mel standing at the end of the hall with a folder tucked under one arm. “What are you doing here?” Mel asked. “I would have thought you’d be at the meetings.”
Naya glanced at the soldier beside her. “I was planning on it, but the queen decided she wanted to talk with me and we only just got done.”
“Queen Lial?” Mel asked, sounding surprised. “Why? I mean no offense, but I’ve heard she wasn’t exactly keen on having you here.”
“I—she was curious about me, I think,” Naya said. Mentally, she cursed herself. The reason sounded implausible, even to her. But somehow it didn’t seem smart to tell the daughter of a Talmiran delegate that the queen had threatened her. She probably shouldn’t have even mentioned the meeting.
“Queen Lial curious about the undead. Now that is curious!” Mel smiled, then wrinkled her nose. “Sorry, that sounded much better in my head.”
“What are you doing here?” Naya asked, eager to change the subject.
“Nothing exciting. Just picking up some documents that one of the Banian delegates wants my mother to look through later.” Mel’s expression brightened. “Anyway, you’re lucky you missed the start of the meeting. From what I’ve heard, it’s going to be hours of speeches and people arguing over the rules about who’s allowed to discuss what when. And seeing as how you now have a perfectly excellent excuse to avoid all that, why don’t you and I go out and find some lunch? I know a place a few blocks from here that has the best fried polle.”
“Oh, um…” Naya’s chest ached with a sharp sense of loss. Fried polle had always been one of her favorites, a mix of sweet potatoes, spices, and meat all wrapped in a crisp pastry shell. Before her mother had died, they’d gone together every year to the Founding Day celebration in t
he central square outside the palace. Naya remembered sitting at a table near the edge of a crowd of dancers, popping fresh pastries into her mouth. She’d eaten so many she’d felt sure her stomach would burst. There’d been a simple joy to the way taste and texture had blended together. That was one more thing she’d lost when Valn had decided she’d be more useful as a wraith than as a living girl. “Thank you,” Naya said, struggling to hold back the tide of conflicting emotions. “But I don’t eat.”
Mel looked confused, then she covered her mouth with one hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to…I mean, I guess I forgot.”
“It’s okay,” Naya said, not meeting Mel’s eyes. “I should probably be going.”
“Right. Of course,” Mel said. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around?”
“Sure,” Naya said, feeling suddenly tired. Mel’s reaction shouldn’t have bothered her. Mel had been far kinder than she’d expected from any of the Talmirans. But good intentions couldn’t change the sting of how badly out of place Naya felt in her former homeland.
The delegation’s hall was near-empty when Naya returned, most everyone still out at the meeting. That was probably for the best. Delence would want to hear about her encounter with the queen, and Naya was not looking forward to reliving that particular conversation. She sat in her desk chair, running one finger along the smiling beak of Corten’s glass bird. “Was I mad to come here?” she whispered.
Alejandra had called Lucia’s plan a false hope. She thought what they were trying to do was impossible. Why shouldn’t she? According to every record Naya had ever seen, no one had been brought back after a failed resurrection since the rediscovery of the necromancy runes more than fifty years ago.
Naya squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she would fail. But Corten’s absence was like a hole in her chest. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d been somehow a better person when he was around. Corten had made her laugh when she’d felt like her entire life was over. He’d followed her into a burning building. Even after she’d lied to him so many times, he’d followed her, forgiven her. If she gave up now, it would be a betrayal far worse than any she’d ever committed.