by Lori M. Lee
“Sirscha,” he says, greeting me as I match Yandor to the pace of his dragule. His Blades make room for me.
I bow respectfully and quietly convey Priestess Mia’s words. He doesn’t seem surprised.
“I wondered how they planned to have me here without outright declaring their intent to oppose Evewyn. The attack in the north was an act of war. And now that the peace treaty is broken, the Empire will likely respond. But whatever they choose to reveal about their actions will be on their own terms.”
“They owe you a debt,” I mutter.
“She’s right,” one of his Blades murmurs, a tall thin man named Kou. “They disrespect you by—”
“They do what they must.” Prince Meilek shrugs. “In truth, I’d planned to spend the night elsewhere anyway.”
I frown. “You know someone in Luam?”
“A shamanborn acquaintance. There may be other shamanborn here as well. She’ll be able to find us a room and a warm meal.”
I don’t like the idea of separating from my fellow Evewynians, who’ve offered a measure of comfort in their familiarity these last two weeks. Though I am loathe to admit it, Priestess Mia is right. As a soulguide, even a fake one, the Empire’s enemies will view me as an enemy. If it were only me, I’d be willing to take the risk. But there’s also Saengo’s safety to consider.
Saengo falls back to join us, and we remain with them until we reach the path that winds through the sunflowers and up to the governor’s mansion.
As we make our goodbyes, I pull Prince Meilek into a quick embrace and murmur in his ear, “We’ll find you later.”
“The Dancing Drake Inn,” he replies promptly. He clearly knows more about the shamanborn in Luam than he initially let on.
I smile and bow. As Priestess Mia and the others continue ahead toward the mansion, Saengo and I linger on the road, watching as the flurry of traffic swallows Prince Meilek and the other Evewynians.
TWO
For a well-guarded mansion, it’s laughably easy to sneak out once everyone has retired for the evening.
We dodge the guards by ducking into the sunflowers and then disappear into the buildings along the riverbank before crossing the next bridge into the city. There, some locals point us toward the Dancing Drake, which sits squarely over the Xya River. A small dock runs the length of the inn’s eastern side, where patrons can dock and depart at their leisure.
Stilts at each corner support the inn, along with a thick central beam, which appears to be the general framework of most Luam buildings. As we approach, we practically hug the walls to avoid rickshaws barreling past, the wooden beams rattling beneath their wheels. A woman in a bright green tunic is parked alongside the walkway, selling layered tapioca cakes. Saengo buys a bundle of them with coins I pickpocket from an elegant woman draped in silk robes.
The wooden caricature of a dancing drake hangs above the entrance, but the inn is otherwise unremarkable. As with most of the buildings in Luam, its construction favors function, not aesthetics. I quickly step aside, pulling Saengo behind me as the door flies open to unleash several patrons who are singing loudly and off-key. No matter the city or the kingdom, those who frequent taverns generally remain the same.
Inside, we’re met by the clamor of noisy patrons. Heat rushes beneath my skin as my craft leaps to my fingertips, and I clench my fists. Like their voices, the souls blur into a bright, teeming mass. With effort, I breathe through the tension and imagine a wall between myself and the souls as I reel my craft back under control.
A girl standing near the bar shouts above the din. “Over here!” Flapping her hands at me and Saengo, she’s doing a poor job of being inconspicuous.
I recognize her from Prince Meilek’s party. Her name is Yen, a former servant within the Queen’s Guard.
Saengo and I cross the room, weaving around a pair of musicians plucking enthusiastically at their instruments. Most of the people here are human, but I spot a few bright eyes and familiars flopped beneath tables looking bored. Once colorful drapes hang from the rafters, now dingy and tattered from time and the elements.
“Sorry, did you want one?” Saengo asks, having just finished her second cake. Sheepish, she holds out the last one.
“I’m not hungry,” I say, amused. “You may continue stuffing your face.”
“I do not stuff my face.”
“You do, but it’s very proper-like.”
“What does that even mean—”
“Welcome!” Yen says, cutting off Saengo. She’s not very tall, with black hair split into two sleek braids. Freckles spatter her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She bows quickly and then gestures toward the stairs that lead up to the inn’s rooms. “This way.”
“Thank you,” Saengo says before offering her the last tapioca cake.
“I couldn’t possibly,” Yen says. “I just ate. The owner is shamanborn, you see, and he was so honored to have the prince here that he isn’t even charging us. Isn’t that wonder—” She gasps as she trips on a step, and I catch her elbow before she can crash headfirst into the stairs.
“Are you all right?” Saengo asks, taking her other elbow.
Yen hunches her shoulders. “Sorry. I can’t keep track of my own feet sometimes. Kendara used to call me a catastrophe.”
My heart stumbles at the name, and I pause on the landing, my fingers tightening around her elbow. “You knew Kendara?”
“Oh, yes. Terribly ill-tempered woman. She used to come around the training yard for private sparring sessions with Prince Meilek. But since I worked with the Queen’s Guard, I was often there running errands.” She beams at this, oblivious to the turmoil churning my stomach.
I haven’t seen Kendara for over a month. Even though she kept from me the truth that I’m a shaman and that she knew my mother, I miss her desperately. I swallow past the tightness encircling my throat and gesture for Yen to show us to Prince Meilek’s room.
She leads us to the door at the end of the hallway and knocks once. The door opens almost immediately to reveal Kou, one of Prince Meilek’s Blades. He pushes the door wider to allow us through but holds out an arm when Yen makes to follow.
“Thanks, Yen. Keep an eye out, will you?” he says.
She screws up her nose and thrusts out her bottom lip. She can’t be more than a couple years younger than me, but she reminds me of the children back at the orphanage. “I never get to sit in on meetings.”
Kou reaches out to tousle her hair, affectionate and familiar.
“Did you have any trouble?” Prince Meilek asks, sitting by the window and watching the street below.
Cards and half-empty glasses of amber liquid clutter a nearby table where the second Blade sits, waiting for the others to return to their game. As we enter, though, she stands and leaves without a word, joining Yen out in the hallway, and shuts the door. Only Kou remains.
“They gave us a room with a window,” I say.
“At least she didn’t have to break it,” Saengo says. I broke a window at Spinner’s End once for the sole purpose of snooping around the grounds.
“That was one time,” I say.
“That I know of.”
“That you know of,” I agree.
The left side of Prince Meilek’s mouth hitches. “Two weeks on the road together, and they barely even know you.”
“Speaking of which,” I say, turning to Kou, who is now leaning against the closed door. Although we exchanged introductions when they first joined our party, and Saengo and I remained close to Prince Meilek and the Evewynians during the journey east, we didn’t interact much outside of the cursory. I imagine they were wary of me, given my eyes make me look like our Nuvali companions.
“Kou has been with me since before I became captain. I trust him with my life,” Prince Meilek says.
But does he trust him with my life? Or Saengo’s?
Kou straightens off the door. He’s taller than Prince Meilek but thin and sturdy. His hair is cut close to his scalp, and thick
eyebrows hang low over intense brown eyes. He’s dressed in a muted green tunic with plain leather armor, and an unadorned sword hangs from his belt.
“Thank you for being here,” I say. Saengo and I left Evewyn because we had no choice. Kou abandoned his home willingly out of loyalty and friendship to his prince. “I know leaving Evewyn must have cost you.”
“My family is being cared for. Besides, they would want me to be here. My grandmother was shamanborn.”
I frown. “Is she in the Valley?”
“She died before then, but her son—my uncle—was. He escaped in the prison break.” His gaze flits to Prince Meilek. “I don’t know what happened to him.”
Maybe his uncle was one of the shamanborn Prince Meilek helped smuggle aboard a ship in Vos Gillis. Maybe he went north and is hiding in the Empire. Or maybe he fled east toward the Dead Wood.
A shiver runs through me at the memory of broken arms dragging a screaming body into the depths of a tree.
“May the Falcon Warrior protect him,” I say.
Kou dips his head. “Thank you. My mother didn’t inherit any shamanborn magic, so they didn’t take her. Or me. Same with Yen.” He nods at the closed door.
“She seems young,” Saengo says, perched at the edge of a narrow cot in the corner.
“She is,” Prince Meilek says. “I’m sending her back to Evewyn in the morning with one of my soldiers. She still has friends within the Grand Palace, so she should be able to find work.”
“You’re making her a spy?” I ask. She’s young, but that’s not what gives me pause. I was younger than she was when I began training under Kendara. In the limited time I’ve known her, Yen doesn’t exactly seem like the subtle sort.
“If necessary, yes. There are others like Yen and Kou whose families were taken when the shamanborn were imprisoned, even among the reiwyn, although they at least had the means of sending their relatives away to protect them.”
“Are those the allies you spoke of?” I ask.
“Some. I served my sister faithfully until now, and I’ve forged a few friendships. Since I knew Luam would lie directly in our path to Mirrim, I asked that they send their correspondence here. My soldiers and I will remain here for the next few days, and then turn back for Evewyn.”
I draw back at this news. “I thought we agreed you’d speak for Evewyn in Mirrim.”
“You can do that just as easily,” he says. He turns away from the window and leans his shoulder against the wall. “I’m sorry for not being completely forthcoming, but I’m not certain it’s wise for me to be in the shaman capital. My soldiers feel the same. Luam isn’t walled in, so we have an escape if necessary.”
The Nuvali gave me their word that Prince Meilek and the other Evewynians would be safe within the Empire, but I can understand the distrust. Evewyn and the Nuvalyn Empire have a strained relationship at best, made more so in recent years with his sister’s hatred of shamans, despite that the Nuvali had nothing to do with the firewender who killed their parents.
“The Nuvali won’t hurt you or Saengo so long as they believe you’re a soulguide, but I can’t give that same guarantee to my soldiers. Fortunately, we’ve friends here, so we’ll remain until I’ve completed correspondence with my allies and established their loyalty. Once that’s concluded, Priestess Mia has agreed to provide me and my soldiers with documents of safe passage through the Empire.”
I scowl, annoyed that they’d arranged this without my knowing. “What do you mean to do then?”
“Whatever is best for Evewyn.” He reaches for one of the drinks on the nearby table and empties the glass in one swallow. I don’t recall ever seeing him drink before, but I understand the impulse.
Despite the vagueness of his reply, he’s had plenty of time to think his actions through. He betrayed his sister, and the only way to regain his place in Evewyn is to remove her from the throne. This will be no easy task, and I’m not sure the prince is prepared to take such a step.
I consider my words for a moment and decide there’s no delicate way to phrase it. “Have you considered that what’s best for Evewyn … isn’t your sister?”
I suspect he’d gladly live in exile if it meant peace for his people. But peace isn’t a possibility so long as Queen Meilyr is ruler.
Prince Meilek’s jaw tightens. His gaze slides from mine as he sets the glass back on the table. “I’ve wondered that for far longer than appropriate for the captain of the Queen’s Guard. But I always imagined I would be there to temper her. To … remind her of her duty.” He rubs his fingers over his forehead, casting his face into shadows.
“His Highness hopes the queen will yet see reason,” Kou says softly from his place near the door.
Prince Meilek tilts his head back. There’s a tired look in his eyes. They’ve had this discussion before. “I’ve no desire to rule. You know that. All my life, I’ve known my purpose—to protect and serve my sister. It was my only duty, and one I gladly bore. Removing her from the throne is no small thing to consider.”
“But you don’t have a choice,” I say, taking a step toward him. “There’s no one else.”
“Sirscha,” Saengo says softly, voice strained.
At once, I retreat to the cot, wincing at my careless words.
Saengo’s father, Lord Phang, has often said as much to her. Even now, she remains the heir to Falcons Ridge. Some nights ago, we discussed how Saengo would need to apprise her father of her circumstances, and how he would need to find a suitable replacement.
Despite running for years from the duty she’s never wanted, she still cried for a life lost. How Saengo’s father will respond is anyone’s guess. She has cousins, but for Lord Phang, Saengo has always been his only choice. He will have no other as his heir.
“You know your sister best,” I say, settling on the cot beside Saengo. “With Ronin gone, she’s lost her strongest ally. What will she do next?”
His silence stretches between us, broken by the clacking of wheels outside and the hiss of boats sliding through water.
At last, Prince Meilek says, “Mei always liked the idea of power. She was eager to be queen. Her heart broke when our parents died, but I think she felt guilty for desiring the power suddenly handed to her.” His gaze lifts to Kou’s, and something passes between them, a quiet but shared pain. “So she directed that guilt toward punishing the shamanborn. It was an easy outlet. She’d never been comfortable with the idea of anyone lowborn possessing more power than her.”
She sounds like she’s always been terrible, but I refrain from saying so.
“The royal bloodline shares shaman ancestry,” Saengo points out.
Once, the northern half of Evewyn was a separate kingdom, founded by a human slave who’d escaped the Empire during the chaos of the Soulless’s rise to power. She tamed the first drake from the wilds of the north, and up until the domestication of drakes became common, she and her descendants were renowned as the Drake Queens. Her story has always been one of my favorites.
Some generations later, after the north unified with Evewyn into a single kingdom, the Empire offered Evewyn’s queen a marriage alliance as reparations. Evewyn accepted the alliance on the condition that the Nuvali prince remain Prince Consort, without any true power. For a time, Evewyn’s kings and queens had possessed magic.
“Hatred has no logic,” I say, mostly to Prince Meilek. “It can’t be reasoned away.”
He doesn’t react, well practiced in shielding his thoughts. “She fractured the kingdom when she imprisoned the shamanborn. None were spared, even among the reiwyn. It was not the wisest way to begin her rule.”
“And now she’s begun a war that few people in Evewyn want,” Saengo says.
“You asked me once if my loyalties shifted,” I say. Prince Meilek’s eyes narrow. It was weeks ago; I’d been in Vos Gillis on a fool’s errand to find Kendara and free the shamanborn imprisoned there. “My loyalty remains with Evewyn. Its people. Now, you have to make the same choice. What is Eve
wyn to you? Is your loyalty to your queen? Or to your people?”
He passes a weary hand over his face. “Mei is my sister. I never imagined I would have to choose between my family and my kingdom.”
“Either way,” Saengo says gently, “gathering your allies is a good idea. My father, for one, will condemn her actions, and others in the north will agree with him. Nearly every family on Phang lands has someone in the military, some of whom died in the attack at Ronin’s gathering. Do you have paper and ink?” She rises from the cot as Kou retrieves the requested items from a desk drawer.
“What do you intend?” Kou asks.
She leans over the table, draws the lantern closer, and begins writing. “I’m asking my father to listen should Prince Meilek reach out. If it comes from me, he’s more likely to agree.”
Prince Meilek nods. “I appreciate that. Lord Phang would make a considerable ally.”
“If my father sides with you, the other northern reiwyn will follow suit.”
“Are you certain you won’t come with us?” I ask. I tug at the collar of my shirt. It’s warm, even with the window open. “It’s not safe for you in Evewyn.”
“I’ll be fine, but I appreciate your concern. Are you hungry? I can have a tray brought up.”
I shake my head. “There is something you could do for me, though, if it’s within your power. I want to find out what happened to those at Spinner’s End.”
It’s been weighing on my mind ever since we left the north. Priestess Mia confirmed that the Empire received correspondence from Spinner’s End, so they’re likely all right. But without Ronin, there’s no way for them to leave the castle. And with the Soulless awake, I’m not sure how much longer they’ll be safe.
“I know what happened,” Prince Meilek says, surprising me. “I overheard Priestess Mia speaking with some of the other shamans. The shadowblessed sent a gate to retrieve what remains of Ronin’s staff and soldiers.”