Heart of the Empire (The Broken Lands Book 1)

by Carrie Summers

  As she scurried off, Ilishian turned to me, eyes narrowed. “Another episode like this and we may just leave you to your fate.”

  ***

  The so-called safehouse was a blacksmith’s workshop in the part of Lowtown where the slums washed out onto the plains. Unlike many nearby buildings, the low walls of stone topped by rickety wood framing had come through the quake intact. But still, this place seemed no safer than the Graybranch Inn.

  I’d held my tongue during the rest of our trek. But when Azar shut and barred the door behind us, I wouldn’t keep silent any more.

  “Some safehouse,” I said, not caring that my annoyance showed.

  Ilishian shrugged and stood back as Azar fished a black-iron statuette of a bird from her pocket. She closed her eyes and coaxed sparks from the metal figurine, guiding them to a lantern’s wick. Ilishian nodded in approval.

  “Seeing as I got the key from the owner’s corpse,” the ferromaster said, “I’d say we have adequate privacy here.”

  “Another person you murdered just to be safe?” I snapped. “You know what? I don’t want to be here. I was doing fine on my own.”

  “Actually,” Vaness spoke up, “we found you by following the assassins sent by the Ministry. They’d tracked you to the Graybranch and were watching from posts across the street.”

  “Then I need to go back and warn Savra and Fishel.”

  Ilishian curled his lip. “Your new friends will be fine. Once we’d confirmed that they were stalking the proper young Atal man, we took care of them.”

  I closed my eyes. Of course they had. How had I let myself forget how easily these people killed?

  “And no,” Ilishian said. “I didn’t kill the blacksmith. The Chasm Span did. He made the unfortunate decision to travel through the chasm that night. I’m not sure what circumstances led him to be out so late, but he had no chance of avoiding the stone fall. Lucky for me he wasn’t completely buried.”

  I took a deep breath as I sank onto a crate. “Well, there’s that at least. How did you know which door the key fit?”

  Ilishian smirked. “You may recall I’m a ferro mage. That means I speak to the dead, among other things. Or did that part of your lessons not take?”

  I refused to let his barbs embarrass me. Yes, I should have figured that out. But considering everything that had happened, I doubted it would be the first stupid question I asked today. My head swam with dizziness, and I planted my hands to steady myself.

  “Speaking of the Chasm Span...” I said.

  “You thought I died in the fall. That’s good. It’s my hope that everyone else believes it, too.”

  “And the reason you didn’t?”

  “Ancient ferro secrets.”

  I knew that wasn’t true. Despite my question from a moment ago, I had been paying attention to my lessons on the different abilities of ferro, aurum, and argent mages. Ferros specialized in imbuing black iron objects with special magic derived from the spirits of the dead, not in surviving thousand-story drops. If anything, I suspected that Ilishian had a relic which granted protection.

  “You said you had a plan,” I said, turning to Vaness. Ilishian sniffed at the snub.

  “Aren’t you interested in hearing how Azar and I escaped?” she asked, sounding faintly hurt that I hadn't asked. I understood, I supposed. Before meeting the Sharders, Fishel, and Savra, Vaness had been my only real friend. A bit more than that, even. I’d pressured Ilishian to save her, but now I scarcely seemed to notice her. Her comment about Savra had angered me, but I needed to give her a chance.

  Ignoring the ache in my legs, I moved over to sit beside Vaness on a lumpy sack. “Of course,” I said, knuckling her in the shoulder. “You don’t know how relieved I was to see you. When I was in the mountains, I got sick. I had fever dreams. You were there.”

  As I spoke the memories came flooding back. If not for my hallucination of Vaness walking beside me, egging me on, I might not have survived.

  The corner of her mouth twitched in a slight smile. “Sick from your brand?”

  I nodded. “Infected.”

  “Me too. I fell ill a day after we escaped. Azar got word into the Hold. The aurums are on our side. The Trinity sent a recipe for the salve. Apparently, we need it to keep infections away. It’s...” She trailed off as she looked at my matching boots.

  “I know. You have to remove the cuff to get rid of the sickness.”

  “The Trinity’s message explained that,” Azar said. “But they said it was strictly forbidden. No Emperor can Ascend without the cuff and brand.”

  As Azar’s eyes darted to my feet, I pressed my opposite toe against the boot's heel for leverage and pulled my foot free. I straightened my knee to show her the sole of my foot. The young mage snapped her gaze away, cringing.

  “And your opinion?” I asked, taking in the others with my gaze. “Is it critical we hold to an ancient tradition designed to control us? Because if you won’t support my claim to the throne, I might as well leave now.”

  Silence gathered in the room while Ilishian stalked forward to look down on me. I considered standing but decided I didn’t need to intimidate him with my height.

  “I mean to Ascend regardless of your involvement,” I said simply.

  “The Ministry will oppose you. As will the argents and the rest of the ferro order.”

  I shrugged. “And? They are just men and women. Emperor Tovmeil named me his successor. You were there. If you refuse to acknowledge his words, I will find others to believe in me. I’ll go to Stormshard to gather an army if I must.” As I spoke the last sentence, I stilled my expression. I didn’t really believe the renegades would support me—or anyone—in a bid to rule both Old Atal and the Provinces. But Ilishian didn’t know that.

  “What do you mean, Emperor Tovmeil named you?” Vaness said. Trained to hide her emotions, she kept her face even, but I could imagine what she was feeling. The other Scions were dead. Somewhere, deep in her heart, she must have hoped that had raised her chances of ascending. And since neither Ilishian nor Azar had deigned to tell her differently, her suddenly smashed hopes must have been slicing her apart inside.

  Ignoring Ilishian for the moment, I took her hand. She stiffened, and I remembered how shocked—and comforted—I’d felt when Evrain had touched me. We were Scions. We weren’t supposed to be loved.

  “I wanted to tell you,” I said. “Emperor Tovmeil claimed that if I don’t sit on the throne, the Breaking will shatter the land. This last quake will be nothing in comparison. Vaness, I’ve always thought you would be a better leader than me, but what should I do? Ignore his warning?”

  Her jaw worked silently, the muscles rippling in her cheeks. Her full lips were set in an emotionless line. I remembered the feel of them, but the recollection no longer sent heat through my body. Now I felt only gentle affection. I didn’t want her to hurt, but I could only do so much to console her.

  After a moment, she slipped her hand away and turned on the mages. Standing to her full height, she fixed them with a look of disapproval nothing short of imperial.

  “You should have told me,” she said.

  Ilishian stared back. “I’ll be frank. You are only alive because Kostan demanded it. I owe you nothing. Now, I’ll admit that saving two Scions gave us a tremendous advantage against the Ministry. The ministers are terrified their plot will be revealed—it’s surely the reason for the lockdown on Steelhold. They can’t declare their intent to rule while either of you lives. To do so would only doom their cause—the moment either of you showed yourselves, the Empire’s power structure would rally against the usurpers. But you, Vaness, certainly weren’t saved for any virtue you held over your fellow Scions.”

  At this, I stood. Ilishian may have saved my life, but he wouldn’t treat Vaness this way. “Do you know the Emperor’s Mark?” I asked.

  The question set him off balance. The ferro mage blinked. “Everyone among the Atal elite does.
Perhaps other citizens know as well, those who have bothered to educate themselves on their ruler.”

  “Get down on your knees and examine my brand.”

  His look of offense reminded me of an insulted cat. “Excuse me?”

  I pulled the Heart of the Empire from beneath my tunic. Both Azar’s and Vaness’s eyes widened upon seeing the amulet. I doubted either of them knew what it was, but the brilliant banding in the agate was enough to impress anyone. “You gave me this because your fealty lay with Emperor Tovmeil. It still does, which is the only reason you are—in your imagination—lowering yourself to play nursemaid to a Scion two years from his Ascension.”

  “Exactly. You are not the Emperor. Yet. I vowed to protect you and guide you to the throne. That’s all.”

  “And I’m saying this: examine my foot. Tell me there’s no Emperor’s Mark upon it. If you’re correct, I’ll accept your authority while we decide how to proceed. But if you see the Mark, I demand you recognize my dominion.”

  In truth, I had no idea whether I’d been branded Emperor from the beginning. But if my foot bore the Mark, it would be much more difficult for Ilishian to defy me. I wouldn’t lose anything by failing, not when he considered me nothing but a Scion anyway. But I had everything to gain.

  The ferromaster couldn’t easily refuse, not when I’d used Emperor Tovmeil’s name to remind him of his allegiance. Not with Azar and Vaness watching so avidly. With a reluctance that could have been measured in hectares, Ilishian lowered himself to the dusty floor. His cheek twitched as I lifted my foot.

  He stared at the sole, filthy after my journey out of the mountains, and no doubt still reeking from the seepage of water from the Silty. The moment stretched on and on. Finally, he bowed his head, pressed up off his knees and stood.

  “You are indeed Emperor of Atal. Please accept my loyal service from now until your abdication. Long may you reign.”

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Savra

  A simple bedchamber

  MY SMALL ROOM felt safe. No one could see me hug my knees to my chest or bury my face in my hands. A tavern stray. I shouldn’t let that girl’s words get to me. But I was so tired. So alone in Jaliss. And for a few hours, I’d felt like I’d had a friend.

  “Whatever those three wanted with him, I’m sure he’ll be back,” Fishel had said while clearing away the tea settings used by Kostan’s friends.

  The innkeeper was wrong. Kostan was an Atal merchant. He had no reason to return to the Graybranch. Certainly not to spend time with a Prov girl from the Cosmal Peninsula.

  Flopping onto my narrow bed, I traced a finger over the bracelet. As I did, I attempted to open my mind as the voices in the bracelet had suggested. I closed my eyes, even tried to imagine the sensation of the world fading when fear summoned my aura-sight. Nothing happened, and I soon gave up.

  “Whatever Parveld believes about me, he’s wrong.” I muttered, looking at the bracelet.

  It felt as if the metal warmed against my skin, but no voices entered my thoughts. I was certain the people who’d spoken to me in the lockup were real and that they'd used the bracelet to reach me. But how?

  The Empire’s ferros infused black iron with all sorts of powers, but this seemed to be something different. Maybe Parveld had worked spiritist magic into the bracelet, allowing his friends to speak to me. In any case, it wasn’t working now.

  Clutching my chin, I stared at the wall and wondered what I should do.

  When something tapped against the wooden window shutter, I jumped. As I shifted away from the wall, the sound came again. A definite tap as if someone were tossing pebbles at the shutter. Kostan? I couldn’t think if anyone else who would try to get my attention. Maybe some kids from the Splits were testing their aim.

  Edging across the bed, I put my eye to the crack between shutters. Outside, the midday sun pressed down on streets still cluttered with rubble. I saw little through the slit and was preparing to give up when a woman strolled into view. Partway across the street, she paused and with a flip of the wrist sent a small stone flying toward my window.

  I flinched as the pebble cracked against the wood. How had she managed such accurate aim without even looking? Not that she could have seen the window anyway—a wide-brimmed felt hat hid the woman’s face. But I recognized her confident stroll and the long brown braid hanging down her back. Sirez, the Sharder woman.

  I dashed from my room, careened down the stairs, and shoved out the inn’s front door into the midday glare.

  The street was deserted.

  Looking left and right, I balled my fists. Where could she have gone?

  In my haste, I’d forgotten my boots. Stepping carefully in stockinged feet, I edged around the building. Sirez wasn’t along the south wall either, so I kept going, turning into the narrow yard between the inn and stable.

  A leather-gloved hand fell over my mouth while a dagger pressed against my windpipe.

  “This way,” Sirez whispered into my ear, nudging me toward the stable. How had she gotten behind me? “I’d like to discuss some things with you, but I’ll slit your throat if you make my life difficult.”

  The blade’s edge was wickedly sharp. I didn’t struggle as we stepped across open space to the stable door. Sirez kicked the thin wood, setting the door shivering. Moments later, the latch clicked open, and the door swung wide.

  The stable’s interior was nearly pitch black. With a grunt, Sirez forced me forward. I blinked, squinted. Whoever had helped Sirez was a shadow in the dark. A large shadow.

  Across the stable, Breeze nickered a greeting. He didn’t seem upset by these intruders. Did he know something I didn’t or was he just too trusting?

  When the door shut behind us, snuffing the last of the light and fresh air, I finally remembered to breathe. My pulse raced in my neck, pressing tender skin against the knife blade in a regular throb.

  “I won’t give you any trouble,” I whispered as the woman removed her hand from my mouth.

  As my eyes adjusted, I picked out more lurking shapes. One by one, Sirez’s friends detached from the walls and slid closer. The whites of their eyes glinted in the faint glow filtering from the ceiling, but I didn’t see a single flash of teeth. No smiles, but no snarls either.

  “So,” Sirez said, “you were interested in Stormshard... Perhaps too interested.”

  The dagger at my throat kept me from either nodding or shaking my head. With a small noise that sounded like a newborn kitten, I pointed at her knife hand. “It’s not necessary,” I squeaked.

  “I suppose you’re right, considering I could snap your neck before you reach the door,” she said. The dagger still hadn’t moved. “Then again, perhaps you have some hidden abilities of your own. One of my associates in the lockup claimed to have sensed something from you. What do you know of spiritism?”

  I licked my lips. Havialo had told me the Empire hunted people like me. How did Stormsharders feel about my kind?

  “Not much,” I said. It was an honest answer. “Until recently, I’d never heard the term.”

  The pressure of the blade lessened ever so slightly. “But you have heard of it now, and you’re a Prov, which means you didn’t learn the word through imperial communications.”

  “A man kidnapped me. He claimed he’d take me to the Sharders. To my—to the friend I mentioned.”

  “And now we’re to the heart of the matter. You claim to know Evrain.”

  I nodded and regretted it as the blade stung my neck. To her credit, Sirez noticed and released the dagger’s pressure.

  “Yes, but until a couple of months ago, I didn’t even know whether he was still alive.”

  Finally, Sirez released me. I locked my knees to keep from slumping to the floor. When I wiped a hand across my neck, it came away with a line of wet.

  The Sharder woman stepped in front of me—I had to look up sharply to make eye contact. A look of regret twisted her lips. “Sorry about that.
I didn’t expect you to move so suddenly.”

  I shrugged. I wasn’t exactly in a position to withhold forgiveness.

  “Why were you so interested in Stormshard that you’d agree to leave home with a stranger? You seem a clever girl, if a bit naïve.”

  What should I say? I needed to tell these people something to explain my presence here and my interest in my father. But I couldn’t be sure they were my father’s allies. If they knew I was his daughter, they might use that against him. Better to admit to the spiritism since they seemed to know about my abilities already.

  “According to my kidnapper, if the Empire found out about my talent, they’d kill me. He said Evrain could find someone to teach me about spiritism.”

  “So did you go with this man willingly, or did he kidnap you? I’m confused.”

  I shrugged. “Both, I guess. I went with him based on his lies. And I escaped when I found out the truth.”

  “Which was?”

  “He wanted my abilities for his own purposes.”

  Sirez shifted her weight onto her hip. “And now you’re far from home. Evrain is an old friend. You think he can help you.”

  “Yes, but there’s more. I really am interested in Stormshard. After what the protectors did to that boy—” I paused when my voice cracked. “For that alone, the Emperor should die.”

  My heart was thudding hard enough to pound down the gates of Steelhold. I wondered if everyone in the stable could hear it.

  “The truth is,” Sirez said with a sigh, “Evrain’s Shard operated out of the mountains. After the quake, I went to their stronghold myself—no one else within my Shard knows the details of their location.”

  “Then you could take me to him!” I stilled my hands to keep from grabbing onto her sleeve like a hopeful child.

  Her eyes fell. “His Shard operated out of a cavern system. The quake... the roof had fallen in. I don’t know how many were inside when it happened, but the surrounding area was deserted. We’ve heard nothing from him since the shake.”