by Caitlin Seal
Her hand and arm ached, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the damaged bone or because of the strain of holding a new set of features. Valn had had plenty of time to spread her description, and she wasn’t sure who among his spies might be lurking in the crowd. At least some of them would be able to recognize Blue’s face. That wasn’t a risk Naya wanted to take.
As she approached the guards flanking the wide gates, she willed herself not to reach up and double-check the contours of her face. She’d made her hair a dull brown and given herself a weak chin and pale cheeks scattered with a few pox scars. Hopefully the plain features would help discourage anyone from taking notice of her. The couple ahead of her passed the guards, the man giving them a brisk nod. Naya scurried to follow, reminding herself to breathe with each step. In and out. Don’t be afraid. You’re just an ordinary girl come to listen to the speech.
“Excuse me, miss!”
Naya froze, fear buzzing from her toes to the tips of her hair. She willed her expression to remain calm as she turned, schooling her features into a mask of dim curiosity.
One of the guards strode toward her. “You dropped this,” he said.
Naya recognized the slim wooden case in his hand. She felt at her skirt’s pocket, then muffled a curse when she found the tear. “Thank you,” she mumbled as she accepted the case back from the guard. She quickly tucked it into the waistband of her skirt, hopefully before he could notice the shake in her fingers.
The guard nodded once, barely giving her a second glance before returning to his post. Naya continued down the path. The back of her neck itched with the certainty that, at any moment, the guards would realize who she was. It was only after she crossed half the distance that she got the courage to look up from her feet.
A wide gravel path led from the gates to the palace proper. Gardens spread out all around her. Ancient-looking trees shaded a tiny pond to her right, and to the left was what looked like a hedge maze. The palace loomed ahead, the last rays of evening light making the pale-gray stone walls seem to glow.
No one else bothered her as she made her way through the big double doors and down a short hallway to the grand reception room. Naya paused by one of the stone pillars near the back, scanning the crowd. The Council’s leaders had decided it would be best for everyone to enter separately. That way they were less likely to draw attention.
After a moment she spotted Alejandra. Naya pushed forward and touched the older woman’s elbow. “It’s me,” she said softly.
Alejandra glanced at her, then nodded. She looked far calmer than Naya felt. “Turnout is a bit thinner than we might have hoped,” Alejandra said.
“Is that going to be a problem?” Naya asked, keeping her voice low.
“Probably not. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
Alejandra smiled. “Good. I saw Officer Selmore a moment ago. She’s in position.”
Naya nodded, continuing to watch the crowd. The king’s audience chamber was a long, rectangular room with pillars running down each side and a raised platform with a throne at one end. People stood in loose clumps, most of them clustered near the throne. Corten would be somewhere in that crowd, along with Iselia and most of the others Naya had seen at the meeting. Between the shifting bodies, Naya could just make out a line of guards separating the crowd from the platform. Valn would likely have chosen people loyal to him for that post. The Council would have to break through quickly if they were going to take Valn captive during the speech. Naya hoped any fighting would be brief and that Corten would have the good sense to stay far back from the worst of it.
She drew in aether, her head swimming for a moment with the heavy mix of fear and excitement. The new energy dulled the pain in her hand like the cooling balm her mother used to rub on her scrapes when she was little.
“And so it begins,” Alejandra said, interrupting Naya’s thoughts.
Valn walked across the platform at the far end of the room, flanked by four men wearing the formal uniforms of the Talmiran Army. Naya frowned. There still wasn’t any sign of King Allence or any of his advisers. Had Valn already detained them? Surely he didn’t have the manpower to move against them before he’d even made his announcement.
“Come,” Alejandra said, tugging at Naya’s elbow.
Naya reluctantly turned from the stage, following Alejandra. They found Officer Selmore standing at attention against the left wall, next to a set of doors leading deeper into the palace. Behind them, Valn began his announcement. “Thank you all for coming. I understand that this investigation has been a great source of anxiety for the people of Belavine. The increase in violent attacks near the docks is a danger to all of us, and I appreciate your support in finding and punishing those responsible. Long ago the people of Talmir and Ceramor lived as one, and in my role as ambassador here I have hoped to rekindle that sense of brotherhood. So it is with a heavy heart that I bring you the initial findings of my report. The necromancers of Belavine have betrayed the sacred restrictions of the Treaty of Lith Lor by performing profane experiments on unwilling victims. Worse, my men have found evidence suggesting—”
“Lies!” someone shouted from within the crowd. Valn ignored them, but more voices joined the chorus, and the shouting quickly drowned out his speech.
“That’s our signal,” Alejandra said as she started walking toward Officer Selmore.
Naya followed, doing her best to appear calm. She need not have bothered. The guards around them were all focused on the growing chaos near the front of the room. Officer Selmore nodded as they reached her. A moment later Officer Rossen, another guard loyal to the Council, joined them. Rossen was a young man with a narrow frame and hazel eyes that looked too big for his face. He gave Naya a nervous smile when she met his eyes.
“Okay,” Officer Selmore said softly, “let’s do this quick.”
The rest of them nodded, and she opened the side door. She went through first, followed by Alejandra, then Naya. Officer Rossen came through last, shutting the door behind him.
The noise of the crowd dimmed to a murmur, then disappeared as they followed Officer Selmore down a series of hallways. Fine portraits glared down at them from gilt frames, and Naya was grateful for the plush carpet that muffled their footsteps. Selmore had planned their route to minimize the chance of unwelcome confrontations. Still they paused at every intersection, giving Naya a chance to check the aether for anyone nearby.
After several long minutes, Selmore stopped at a heavy wooden door. “This is it,” she said. “These stairs lead to the dungeons. I didn’t get an exact count, but given how many guards Valn assigned to the main hall, I don’t think there will be more than two or three on watch below. Could be we can convince them to let us through. If not, we’ll need to disable them before they can call for help.” She met Naya’s eyes. “I don’t have the key, so this is where you come in.”
Alejandra’s smile was shark-like. There was something hungry in her aether, and underneath it a bone-cracking worry that Naya assumed was for Lucia. “You heard her. Show us what you can do.”
The others stepped away, giving Naya room to crouch beside the door. There were no runes around the frame, but the iron knob was locked tight. Naya pulled the small case from her waistband and extracted the lock picks she’d hidden there. She slipped the picks into the lock and closed her eyes, feeling her way through the pins one by one. Celia’s voice echoed in her mind. Keep your hands steady. Don’t rush. She wondered what the old spy would think of how Naya had chosen to use her lessons.
She’d just gotten the second pin set when Officer Selmore let out a sharp hiss of breath. “What’s going on here?” an unfamiliar voice called from the end of the hallway.
Naya’s eyes snapped open and she stood, using her skirts to cover the lock. A group of five guards strode toward them, their aether humming anticipation. She’d been so focused on the lock she hadn�
�t felt them coming.
“Sir,” Selmore said. “These two were identified as suspicious persons wanted for further questioning. Officer Rossen and I were escorting them to the cells.”
“How unusual,” said the man who’d spoken. He had a hard face with a nasty scar bisecting his lower lip. “You two are supposed to be keeping watch in the main hall. And so far as I know, no one has given you a key to the lower levels.”
Naya’s throat tightened as she felt certainty flowing like cool water through the guard’s aether. He knew Selmore was lying. She exchanged a glance with Selmore, who gave her a fraction of a nod. Naya drew in aether and reached for the knife hidden in her sleeve. They were outnumbered, but given the guards’ expressions, she doubted they’d be able to talk their way out. From the corner of her eye she saw Alejandra’s hand disappear into her pocket.
Before Naya could attack, the guard with the scar snatched something from a holster on his belt. Naya’s eyes widened as the gaping barrel of the rune pistol swung up. The guard pulled down the hammer and a heavy click sounded as the first of the two rune plates slid into place. He pointed the weapon at Alejandra. “Move and I’ll blow her head off,” he said in a conversational tone.
The aether in Naya’s bones hummed, begging for release. But all she could think of was Delence’s son running toward her with a sword, and the way his blood had gushed when the carriage driver shot him. Alejandra was staring at the pistol. Sweat glistened on her forehead. Her hand was wrapped so tightly around something in her pocket that the muscles of her arm stood out like narrow ropes beneath her skin. No one moved.
“Good,” the guard said. “Now, Officer Rossen, would you kindly relieve Officer Selmore and her companions of their weapons?”
“What?” Selmore snarled, turning to look at Rossen.
Rossen avoided her gaze. “Sorry,” he mumbled, unslinging his club and starting toward them.
“You’re working with them?” Officer Selmore asked, staring at Rossen as though he’d grown a second head. “What about your brother? What do you think these bastards will do to him?”
Rossen flinched, then licked his lips. “Come on, Lila, you’ve got to see it. The Council’s gone too far this time. They’re going to get us all killed. I had to do something. They said if I helped, they’d make sure Jebel wasn’t harmed and—”
“Move it along, Rossen. This isn’t story time,” the guard with the scar said. Naya saw one of his companions pull out a set of salma wood cuffs and start toward her. Seeing the cuffs snapped her out of her terror. The guard with the pistol was only a couple of feet away from her. As Rossen and the man with the cuffs moved in to disarm her, Naya let the aether flow into her legs. She bent her knees, feeling the energy change and imagining the power in her legs compressing like a spring, and then she lunged for the guard with the pistol.
She slammed into his arm, knocking it to the side. Runes pulled sharp and sudden on the aether, and a crack resounded so loud it seemed to ripple through her. The guard staggered as Naya wrenched the pistol down, trying to pry it from his grip. Someone screamed behind her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Officer Selmore swing her club at one of the other guards. The guard with the scar grunted as Naya managed to pry two of his fingers free of the pistol. Too late she saw another guard swing at her hand with his club. She jerked her hand back, but one of her fingers snagged in the pistol’s trigger guard. The club slammed into the back of her hand.
Blinding pain arched through her body, turning her vision white. She stumbled and felt the cold press of salma wood snapping closed around her wrist. She tried to flail away, but her limbs felt weak and useless. More salma wood snapped around her other wrist, locking it in place. Naya sagged against the icy restraints. People shouted and jostled around her, but their words fled her mind before she could make sense of them. Someone yanked on the cuffs, hauling her forward until she was stumbling down a steep flight of stairs.
After the stairs, the guards dragged her down a long hallway and into a brightly lit room. Naya’s vision refocused as they shoved her into a chair and locked her manacles to a set of hooks on the arms. A guard she didn’t recognize stood beside her chair, his eyes focused on the far wall. She craned her neck but couldn’t see any sign of the others.
Then the door opposite her opened and Valn walked into the room. His suit was as neat and black as it had been the day he’d taken her name and convinced her to join his cause. His face was set in the same mild, unreadable expression she remembered. If the attack in the main hall had unsettled him, he hid it well. Naya lunged forward, or tried to. She barely made it an inch before the restraints jerked her back into the chair.
“Please, let’s try to be civil.” Valn smiled, but his eyes remained cold.
“Let me go,” Naya snarled.
“You know I can’t do that.” He stepped closer. “I must admit I was surprised to hear you’d come. I’d expected you’d have the good sense to flee, but I should have known Hal Garth’s daughter would be too stubborn for that.”
“Don’t compare me to him,” Naya said. Valn recognized her. That must mean she’d lost her hold on the face she’d been wearing.
“Oh? What happened to the girl who would do anything to make her father proud? Ever since you first slipped my men, I’ve been wondering what made you betray your mission.” He paused, then shrugged when Naya didn’t answer. “I suppose it doesn’t matter. Thanks to the intelligence Officer Rossen provided, my troops made short work of your little revolt upstairs. I should be thanking you, really. The attack adds weight to our claims that I never could have manufactured alone.”
Naya flexed her fingers. She didn’t think the cracked bone had gotten any worse, though it was hard to tell through the icy pain from the salma wood. “Why are you doing this?” she asked.
Valn regarded her thoughtfully. “Your father would say we are fighting a noble battle to stop the necromancers from spreading their foul magic.”
“But you don’t care about stopping necromancy. You had me killed, just to turn me into a wraith.”
Valn blinked, then smiled again. His pale lips didn’t curl quite far enough to expose teeth. “Aren’t you full of surprises? You’re right. I don’t share your father’s devotion to the old laws of Talmir. I don’t believe in throwing away a useful resource just because aspects of it may be distasteful.” He said it so casually, as if deciding to kill her had been no more difficult than picking what to eat for breakfast.
“No matter how much your father denied it, we needed a reaper for our plans to progress smoothly. A normal wraith couldn’t have pushed through that salma wood door Delence installed in his home. Also, your existence is undeniable proof that the necromancers of Ceramor have violated the treaty. Your arrival in the city fit perfectly with our time line, and your father assured me you shared his zeal for protecting Talmir. In this at least I’m sorry to see him proved wrong.”
Naya twisted against her bonds. The numbness was spreading, but maybe if she kept him talking, she could find some way to slip out. “The necromancers aren’t the ones who’ve been murdering Talmirans. You did that. You’re a traitor and a liar!”
Valn’s eyes widened as something sharp and painful shot through his aether. “We all have to make sacrifices. I did what was necessary to protect my homeland.”
“How could killing your own people be necessary?”
Valn closed his eyes. After a moment his features regained their smooth calm. “You must understand, the balance between Talmir and Ceramor is a delicate one. The Mad King’s war wasn’t the first time we’ve fought. Our two countries have always been uneasy neighbors, and there have always been disagreements over how far our respective borders extend. The cost of maintaining an army we can muster quickly to repel any attack along our border’s length is significant. And so long as we must maintain defenses to the south, we cannot spare the resources to compete
with the Banian Navy at sea.”
“That’s why we have the treaty,” Naya said. “Ceramor doesn’t even have an army, and if they did somehow attack us, Banen and Silmar would come to our aid.”
“True, but the balance of power is shifting.” Valn’s voice took on a tone that reminded Naya of her teachers back at the Merchants Academy. “When we first met I warned you that our allies’ support of the treaty restrictions was weakening. The other Powers think Ceramor isn’t a threat anymore. But the Ceramoran people haven’t forgiven us for our last victory. The treaty kept them weak, and the hardships it caused have only added more fuel to their anger. Whether it’s over necromancy or something else, another war is inevitable. The only questions are when and who will strike the first blow. If we continue to wait, we risk losing our advantage.”
“You’re planning an invasion,” Naya said with growing horror. “You made it look like the Ceramorans broke the treaty, so Banen and Silmar wouldn’t retaliate against you.”
“So far as they will see it, Talmir has every right to land troops. We will argue that King Allence’s involvement in the recent deaths and the attack tonight were already acts of war.”
Naya turned away from him, sickness churning inside her. She’d helped him. Even given everything she’d done to fight, she still somehow had helped him. “You’re disgusting,” she said. “Do you have any idea how many people will die because of what you’ve done?”
“Fewer will die now than if we hadn’t acted. You said it yourself: Ceramor has no army. Any defense they offer will be easily destroyed. I’ve spent years building alliances here. Once we’ve taken martial control, those allies will step forward to form a new Ceramoran government, one more willing to follow our lead.” Valn leaned forward, his gaze intense. “Everything I’ve done has been for our queen and the good of Talmir. I had hoped you’d be able to see that. I had hoped you could find some peace in knowing that your death will help save so many of your countrymen.”