Empire of Shadows

by Miriam Forster

  Emil was expecting to come out in the house he’d seen the mercenaries in before, but instead he followed Karoti through a twisted maze of crypt passages that came out in another abandoned home, this one close to the Flower Bridge. Karoti peered through the door, then slipped out into the street. Emil kept his head down as they walked to the bridge.

  “Just an errand,” Karoti called, flashing a permit at the guards. “Need to pick up supplies.” The soldier grunted at them, but let them through.

  Emil followed Karoti in silence through the wide, spotless streets. They passed a gate, made of decorative metal, bent and twisted into the shape of a creature with eight legs, a lion’s mane, and wings. Through the gate, Emil caught a glimpse of a young woman bearing two short swords.

  “I thought healers didn’t bear weapons,” he said to Karoti.

  Karoti gave a quick glance through the gate and quickened his step. “Not healers. That’s one of the Jade warrior enclaves. Don’t stare. They can’t leave their walls, but I don’t want any unnecessary attention.”

  “What do you mean, can’t leave their walls?” Emil said. He’d heard stories of Jade fighters, but they always sounded like legends, tales made up to while away a frost-covered night. He’d never met anyone who even knew a Jade warrior, much less seen one himself.

  “Just what I said,” Karoti answered. “Once they pledge to their order, they cannot leave. Ever. I think even their ashes are buried somewhere inside those walls.” His lips tightened. “And if you ask me, it’s for the best. Rajo doesn’t think they’re much of a threat, but they make my skin twitch.”

  Emil decided to change the subject. “So I’ve been wondering about something,” he said. “I get Rajo: he’s a mercenary and he fights for money. And I know what Stefan’s doing here. But you . . . you don’t seem like the mercenary or revolutionary type. How did you get involved with Rajo?”

  A smile twisted Karoti’s face. “Rajo is my older brother,” he said. “Someone had to keep him out of trouble.” The smile softened, turned into something protective and fond. “You have to understand, Emil. Rajo is a remarkable person. He’s impulsive and quick to lose his temper, and he’s not always the most practical person. But he cares about his people. These men and women are his first priority, and they know it. Our employer has offered us land and money, and Rajo believes this will make a better life for us.”

  “What do you believe?” Emil asked.

  “I believe he’s my brother,” Karoti said. Again, the dangerous look flashed across his face, like the flicker of a knife in the dark. “And I’ll follow him to the Mountains of the Dead before I leave him to fight alone.”

  Emil swallowed. “I understand that.”

  “I know you do,” Karoti said. “Now come on. I don’t want you out here longer than necessary.”

  With a little searching, they found the side door Emil remembered. Emil rapped his knuckles on it, then shoved his hands into his pockets.

  Manik opened the door. Spots of oil stained his tunic and apron. “What is it? I’ve got a very tricky almond cake in the oven. . . .” His eyes widened when he saw Emil. “Oh, it’s you.”

  “Yes,” Emil said, with just the right amount of anxiety. “I need you to do me a favor. You know our mutual friend, the tea seller?”

  “I do.” Manik folded his arms. “What of it?”

  Emil looked directly into the cook’s eyes. “I owe him money. And I know it would be stupid not to pay him back.” He took his hands out of his pockets, palming the paper coin in one and taking the bag of copper from Karoti with the other.

  Holding the bag in both hands to shield the paper coin from Karoti’s view, he pressed the whole thing into the servant’s palm. “Make sure he gets these coins,” Emil said. “All of them.”

  Manik’s gaze sharpened. Then he nodded. “I will. He comes by later today.”

  “Tell him I remembered our deal,” Emil said, trying to keep his voice from sounding too urgent. “Tell him our bargain is fulfilled.”

  “Of course.” Manik’s eyes flicked to Karoti and back to Emil. “I will make sure he knows.”

  “Come along, Emil,” Karoti said. “We have work to do.”

  Emil bowed to Manik. “Thank you,” he said. As he turned away, he saw the cook slip the paper coin up his own sleeve. He hoped Abhra would get his message.

  He hoped it would be enough.

  MARA WAS PACING. Back and forth in the small meditation room that Suni had shown them, her feet following the same track over and over. Revathi and Garen and Esmer were speaking together and their voices washed over her, void of meaning. There was only the carpet and the walls and the restless need to keep moving.

  Because if she stopped . . . if she let herself think about what Emil’s being missing might mean . . .

  She tried to focus on what the others were saying.

  “I didn’t hear from him after I left the palace,” Esmer was explaining. “But I thought maybe he was still there.” She glanced at Mara. “Anyway, I was tracking down something for him, and when I tried to find him to tell him what I’d discovered, he’d vanished. He hasn’t been back to our room in the Wind Circle, and no one’s seen him.”

  Garen frowned. “I have to get Saro and the princes back to the palace,” he said. “I’ll check with the guards and the servants, see if anyone saw Emil leave.” He patted Mara’s uninjured shoulder, and she squeezed his hand, taking comfort in the solid thereness of him.

  “Thanks, Garen,” she said.

  “I like Emil,” Garen said. “He has a good heart. I would hate to see any evil befall him.”

  After Garen left, Revathi looked at Esmer. “What exactly were you helping Emil with?”

  Esmer pressed her lips together. “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Esmer, please,” Mara said. Her voice didn’t sound like hers; it sounded hoarse and a little wild. “You have to tell us something. I know a little, but not enough. And if those men have him . . .”

  Esmer shook her head. “You can’t ask me to do that, Mara,” she said. And her voice was soft and so understanding that Mara wanted to scream. “Emil is family. I won’t offer him up on a plate for the Emperor’s men.”

  Mara started pacing again. She had the horrid feeling that she was free-falling, and only the thud of her feet on the carpet kept her in control. The magic was coiled tight and painful in her belly, a knot of worry and fear and tension that made her want to spill everything.

  But Esmer was right. Mara didn’t know what the mercenaries were up to. And if it was something illegal and she told Revathi, Revathi might feel like she had to report it. And even if Emil didn’t go to prison again, Stefan certainly would. Emil might forgive her for turning him in, but he’d never forgive her if she betrayed his brother.

  “Why would Emil be in trouble with the Emperor’s men?” Revathi looked from one to the other. “Does this have anything to do with why he was in the Flower Circle in the first place?”

  Esmer folded her arms and didn’t answer.

  Revathi ran her fingers through her hair, tangling them in her loose braid. “Emil’s clearly not a thief, and he must have known what would happen if he got caught,” she muttered to herself. “So whatever he was looking for, it was something that mattered more to him than his own safety.”

  Her eyes flicked over Mara. “He could have been looking for you, I suppose.” She turned to Esmer. “But that doesn’t explain why he sent you away. It couldn’t have been to find Mara; she was right there. Someone else, perhaps?”

  Esmer looked down at her hands.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Revathi said. She bit her lip. “Look, I know you don’t trust me. But I promise, I’ll try to keep whatever you tell me a secret as long as I can. Please,” she urged looking at Mara. “Let me help.”

  Mara looked at Esmer, imploring her with her eyes.

  The cat girl threw her hands up. “All right, fine,” she snapped. “I cannot believe the position these th
rice-cursed boys put me in. Inconsiderate, hairless . . .” She trailed off in a stream of impressive swearing that made Mara’s eyebrows rise. Finally Esmer ran out of steam.

  “Emil’s brother joined a mercenary band a few days ago,” she said. “That’s what Emil was looking for in the Flower Circle.”

  “Mercenaries?” Revathi said, in a disbelieving tone. “Mercenaries in the Flower Circle?”

  “Yes,” Esmer snapped. “And don’t look at me like that. I know he found them, and I know where.”

  Mara’s head jerked up. “You do?”

  Esmer nodded. “In an abandoned house next to where Mara was stabbed.”

  Revathi made a small noise of surprise. “That’s the tar’Vey house. They’re in Deshe for the summer, like my parents. No one is supposed to be in there.”

  “Well, there isn’t anyone there now,” Esmer admitted. “But they were there. When I left you the first time, I found it and got inside. The house was closed and locked, and it stank of men and steel. I don’t know where they went. So I came back to tell Emil, and that’s when I realized he was missing.”

  Revathi tapped a finger on her chin. “There are connected catacombs and crypts all over the Flower Circle,” she said thoughtfully. “If those men were there—”

  “They were,” Esmer said.

  “Then they probably went underground,” Revathi said. “Or moved to a different empty house.”

  “So we know where they were,” Mara broke in. “But we still don’t know what happened to Emil. Could he have gone back there?”

  Esmer frowned. “No, there was some scent of him, but it was fading, and only on the roof. Honestly, I’m not even sure he got out of the palace. I tried to pick up his trail on the Imperial Bridge, but it’s had a coat of new pitch lately. Everything around it just smells like oil.”

  Revathi rubbed the back of her neck. “I should have called a servant to show him out,” she said. “I just didn’t want to call too much attention to him.” She thought for a moment, then clapped her hands. “All right, this is what we’re going to do. Mara and I will go back to the Palace of Rippling Leaves and see if we can trace Emil’s footsteps from there. Esmer, can you go back to the tar’Vey house and wait for us? We’ll find out what we can and meet you there.”

  “I can do that,” Esmer said. “Emil might find his way there anyway.” She flickered back into cat form.

  I hope you know what you’re doing, she sent to Mara. I don’t want to see Emil hurt.

  Me neither, Mara sent as Esmer padded out.

  Revathi reached out and touched Mara’s hand. “I’ll help you find him, Mara,” she said. “I promise.”

  It was easy to track Emil out of Lady Ekisa’s room. No one had cleaned the carpet in that part of the palace yet. Emil’s boots were heavier and rougher than the slippers and sandals the servants and nobles wore, and they still had more than a trace of grime and dirt from the prison he’d been in. Revathi and Mara tracked the distinctive smudges down the hall, then turned right when the passage to the main entrance went left.

  “He went the wrong way,” Revathi muttered. They followed the fading trace to a small outside door. Mara pushed it open and found herself surrounded by shrines and statues.

  “What is this place?” she asked

  “This is the outer Garden of the Ancestors,” Revathi said. “It’s here for the nobles and palace staff to leave offerings. There’s another, more private one behind the Lotus Wall for the Imperial family, complete with peacocks to run off intruders.” She looked at Mara. “I’ve heard Sune don’t worship the Ancestors. Is that true?”

  “Not your ancestors,” Mara said. “Every group of Sune is different. Tigers follow Nishvana the Silent-Pawed. It is said she prowls the world, invisible and unseen, rewarding those who use power for good and punishing those who use it for evil. I believe Esmer’s people follow someone they call the Long-Tailed Cat. The bears have Yaggesil the Strong, and so forth.”

  “The Ancestors watch over us,” Revathi said. She knelt and touched the feet of one statue, a plump man with a gentle smile. “This is my favorite, Pillaiyar. He’s the lord of new beginnings and the caretaker of travelers.”

  Something seemed to catch Revathi’s eye, and she scrambled over to a pile of hibiscus flowers at the base of another statue, a ferocious-looking woman.

  “That’s odd,” she said, bending over to examine them. “These are fresh. Someone left them recently.”

  “Why is that odd?” Mara asked, searching the ground for any sign of Emil.

  “Kalika is the bringer of war,” Revathi said. “She creates through destruction.” She touched the bloodred flowers piled around the woman’s feet. “There hasn’t been a war in the Empire in hundreds of years.”

  Mara found what she was looking for. “Revathi. It looks like there was a struggle here.”

  Revathi came over and knelt down, running her hands lightly over the ground. “You’re right. There was definitely a struggle here. And someone fell. You can see the marks where he was dragged for a few feet.”

  Mara knelt next to her and sniffed the ground. Her human nose wasn’t as good as her tiger one had been, but she could just make out a harsh, bitter scent. “Where did you learn to track?”

  Revathi didn’t look at her. “My father taught me,” she said. “He used to say, ‘If you can read the forest, you can read the court. They’re both dangerous and full of animals.’” She touched one of the scuff marks in the dirt. “Anyway, it looks like someone ambushed Emil here, probably by hitting him over the head or using a drugged rag.”

  “Definitely a drug,” Mara said. “I can smell it.”

  “Good,” Revathi said. “Hitting someone on the head is a risky move. Too light, they won’t black out. Too hard and you can kill them. If someone drugged Emil, it means they want him undamaged.” Mara raised her eyebrows, and Revathi blushed.

  “My grandmother and her friends have some odd conversations. Anyway if they want him unharmed, it probably is the mercenaries.”

  Mara pushed a toe into the ground. “But how did they get into the palace?”

  “That’s what I want to know,” Revathi said. “Unless . . .” She shook her head. “We need more information. We need to get into that house Esmer told us about and search it.”

  “How?” Mara said. “Esmer said it was locked.”

  Revathi cocked her head and gave Mara a lopsided smile. “Don’t worry, Mara,” she said. “I have a plan.”

  AFTER DINNER, EMIL went looking for his brother. He hadn’t seen Stefan since he and Karoti got back from the Jade Circle, and he still had questions.

  He wandered the stone corridors, ignoring the glares of the mercenaries. There were more of them than he had thought. In one room, several men were sharpening swords and mending armor. In another, a larger group was playing a game of dice on a coffin. The carved wooden dice rattled against the stone, and the mercenaries cheered. Occasionally, he’d pass an open arch with stairs going up, but those were always guarded. The guards did not smile as he hurried by.

  At least the doors between the tombs were propped open. After walking through several dwellings’ worth of crypts, Emil heard his brother’s voice coming from a side room. He crept closer and peered inside.

  Stefan and Rajo were sitting on a low bench carved into the wall. Rajo had his knife out and was carving designs in a dense ebony fighting stick. Stefan was studying a scroll, his forehead wrinkling with concentration.

  “Stefan, you haven’t put those plans down all evening,” Rajo said. He lifted the fighting stick to his eye and looked down its length. “Don’t you want to sleep? Or eat dinner? Or talk to that nosy brother of yours?”

  “No,” Stefan said. His head was down and his voice was muffled. “You put me in charge of this. Of what happens if everything goes wrong.” His fingers moved over the parchment. “I just want to do it right.”

  Rajo reached over and plucked the scroll out of Stefan’s hand. “I didn’
t give you this responsibility out of pity, Stefan. Or to test you. I did it because the newest member of my crew came storming up to me three days ago and demanded to know why we didn’t have a solid retreat plan and a way to get the wounded to safety. And then he argued me into letting him form one. You earned this, and you’ve done a great job with it.”

  Stefan flushed with pleasure. He opened his mouth to answer, but then spotted Emil in the doorway. His face closed, his mouth tightening.

  “Emil.”

  Rajo looked up too. “Ah, our reluctant addition. How do you find our little band, Emil?”

  “They don’t seem to like me much.”

  “Do you blame them?” Rajo stood and clapped Stefan on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry about it. You’re safe enough.”

  For now. The unspoken words hung in the air as Rajo left the room. Emil and Stefan stared at each other, the silence thin and brittle between them.

  “You seem happy here,” Emil finally said.

  Stefan looked down at the scroll in his hand. “I feel like I’m doing some good. Like I matter.”

  You’ve always mattered. Emil opened his mouth to say the words, but his tongue betrayed him.

  “By helping overthrow the Emperor?”

  “Why not?” Stefan asked, his voice rising. “You can’t tell me you like the way things are, Emil.”

  Emil thought of Heema’s veiled face, the hungry, wary eyes of her children. He thought of Esmer, rubbing the black mark on her hand. Rebellion might not be the answer, but he didn’t have another one to give.

  “Are you going to stay?” he asked instead. “After? Or will you come home?”

  Stefan stood, setting down the scroll. “I don’t know,” he said. “I haven’t decided yet. You?”

  “I’ll go if they let me,” Emil said. Stefan frowned at him, and Emil spread his hands. “I miss home,” he said. “I won’t apologize for it. I miss the trees and the tent and the sky. I miss being irritated by my family and cursing the donkeys and sorting out the rocks under my bedroll.” Laughter clawed out of his chest, jagged and sad. “Horned God help me, I even miss the goat smell.”