Juila smiled wanly. “All the magic here will be more powerful than you know. It is not really any different, just that you have only experienced Senne’s magic split up among thousands of channelers. You can do a lot more if it is concentrated. The nuances get lost the more it is shared.”
“Sorry if I hit a sore spot.”
“You are not the one who made it sore. It is sore because it is all still close to me, even if it is eight hundred years old to you. I miss my magic with every breath, but I would trade it again for my husband and sons.” Juila fell silent, lapsing into memory.
I miss my magic too, I thought, even though I only had it for an instant. But I knew my loss paled compared with Juila’s.
Guthre sank into the seat next to me. I tried to avoid eye contact, but I couldn’t bring myself to be too rude to the scout, after all we’d been through together. I couldn’t bring myself to be friendly either, though.
Eventually Guthre spoke, a bit awkwardly. “You were great out there. I was so glad we had you speaking for us.”
“You mean because my father, who actually knew what he was doing, couldn’t speak to them anymore?”
I had meant the words to wound, but Guthre didn’t take them that way.
“Your father would have sold us to Kedessen in return for passage to wherever he left your mother. We both know that. Only you could say what needed to be said today.”
She was right, but I couldn’t stop myself from defending him. “I’m not my father. He was better at this kind of thing.”
“Betrayal came more easily to him. You have honor.”
“He—” but then I stopped, because Guthre was right again.
Guthre kept on speaking. “I mean, so many people died because of what Kedessen did. There was nobody but you to make him pay for their deaths.”
There was no way for me to respond to that without sounding heartless. Just as well: I wanted to feel heartless around Guthre. It would make things so much easier.
“Guthre, the gods don’t care about any of the people who died. All they care about is whether he broke the treaty. He’s not going to pay for their deaths.”
“But you said—”
“We care about them. For the gods it’s all about the treaty. So right now that’s all I can care about, too.”
And then I caught Juila’s gesture, silencing us.
“This is not a place for serious discussion,” Juila said. “Others are listening. Not just the Court, but many other gods.”
“Oh,” I said. If I hadn’t been so tired I would have known that, of course.
Guthre had a similar reaction. “I should have known that. I’m a scout, I’m used to being the one listening in.”
“We’re all tired. We should probably sleep,” I said.
Guthre managed a smile, only a little bit forced. “I would offer you a back rub but it would be weird with all those other gods watching.”
“And because you killed my father,” I said. Without turning to see Guthre’s reaction, I walked into one of the silken chambers, and settled into the lush bed that dominated the small room. As I sank into what felt like a sea of silk, I regretted my sharpness to Guthre, and wondered if I should get up and apologize. But then I drifted deeper into silk, and sleep claimed me.
* * * *
“Look, they’ve brought Senne,” said Juila. “Whatever else happens, you’ve freed her from Kedessen, at least.” The three of us had just emerged from the tent, rested and bathed, our clothes washed and mended by servants we had never seen.
Behind us, servants carried Sperrin, still unconscious but breathing freely now.
I realized I didn’t actually know what Senne looked like. All I had seen were festival performances and romantic paintings of her and Kedessen, based on nothing at all as far as I could tell. “Which one is she?”
“The pale redhead,” Juila said, indicating with a glance.
Senne looked beautiful and dazed, like a god whose magic had been drained for hundreds of years. She stood far from Kedessen, who emerged from his own pavilion clad in golden finery. I saw Eury in the crowd of onlooking gods as well, rather than by his half-brother’s side.
Something else occurred to me. “Is Bayinna here?” I asked Juila. “My mother’s family is related to her. If we live through this I’d like to be able to say I saw her.”
The thought seem to amuse Juila a little, and she nodded toward a dark-haired goddess with olive skin and striking green eyes.
Not much family resemblance, I thought. But I supposed after forty or fifty generations there wouldn’t be. And if she changed shapes like Eury, she might have looked nothing like that at the time.
A murmur passed through the crowd, then silence fell. I steeled myself for what might or might not be another verbal battle.
At a gesture from the King, Kedessen and I stepped forward and stood before the thrones. I bowed slightly in formal greeting. Kedessen did not.
He knows something is coming that won’t be good for him.
At the earlier session, the King had done most of the talking, but now the Queen spoke. Her voice sounded like music, like the purest chorus I had ever heard. “Kedessen, this is not your first violation of the Talisman of Truce.”
That came as news to me.
“Your previous disrespect for the terms of the Truce must be factored into the price to be paid today. At the same time, you argued poignantly for the price that your lover paid, willingly or not.
“Because all of the direct royal line in Ananya has been killed, the breach is not easily solved. The Truce specifies a very limited number of humans who are entitled to speak to the gods, and the statutory magic must pass to one of them. Additionally, under the terms of the truce the magic must pass through someone who bears the blood of gods in her veins, preferably more than one god. And the human chosen must be native to the region she rules over, so a native-born Ananyan in this case. To choose someone who did not fit all of those conditions would be healing the breach by creating another, which is unacceptable to our Court.”
Suddenly I didn’t like where this was going.
The Queen looked at me. “Helpful and appropriate it was that you called our attention to clause 119, from which we draw our solution.” Before I could react, her gaze shifted to the golden-eyed god.
“Kedessen, you have freed your lover Senne, and it is our will that she remain free.” For a moment he beamed, until the impact of the Queen’s next words hit him. “You shall take Senne’s place. The magic of Ananya shall flow from you, and it shall pass through the messenger before us.”
But I can’t, I wanted to say. It needs to flow to someone who’s good with magic, not through me. But even as I opened my mouth to speak, I could feel the power flowing into me. I could see Kedessen, his mouth open to protest, staggering as torrents of power flowed out of him. A pair of lion-headed servants caught him before he could collapse. Angrily, he shook them off and stood erect.
His eyes burned as he stared at me.
“When I return,” he said, “there will be no treaty. I will invoke the clause of abrogation, and we will see how you humans fight after a dozen lifetimes with no magic of your own.”
“You will not return, this time,” said the Queen.
He struggled to hold himself up, but his eyes stayed locked on mine. “The reason you survived the last war is that too many gods wanted you as servants, or as worshipers. They didn’t want to kill too many of you. I just want to see all of you exterminated like the rats you are. I just want to see you die.”
His strength gone, Kedessen collapsed into the arms of the lion-headed servants. Gently, they helped him back toward the pavilion he’d emerged from.
Many of the gods in the crowd looked shocked, but except for Eury, none of them looked particularly upset.
Could what he’s saying be true? I wondered, dazed. Were all of the deaths in Ananya a test for the next war with the gods? If Kedessen had done this before, it could be.
What my father had done gave him the pretext, but who knew what other pretexts he’d had over the years. If they were smaller, and no one was able to reach the Court with a protest, who would even have heard of them?
After Kedessen had been removed, the Queen looked to me again. She wore an expression as if she wanted everyone to believe Kedessen had never spoken. “You brought up a second violation of the Treaty as well, the imprisonment of Juila. She has been released and will stay released, but compensation is owed for the breach. Did you have a particular compensation in mind?”
Yes, I thought, but if I suggest it first you won’t agree. So instead, I said, “You could restore her powers. The ones that were taken from her when she chose the human side in the war.”
The look the Queen gave me was about what I expected. “Juila’s punishment is separate from her imprisonment,” the Queen said. “Even if that were not so, having a full-powered god in the human lands not bound by the terms of the Truce would be profoundly destabilizing, don’t you agree? It is enough that she still has the powers of human magic.”
I bowed my head in assent. “I have another thought,” I said. “You could ask the fey to cease their attacks in Ananya.” Even with magic restored, it would take time to pass magic to living channelers and begin rebuilding the ruins of the empire, and the Alliance would be invading at the same time. A cessation of the fey attacks would at least allow the process to begin.
“Very well,” the Queen said, “I will agree to this. While you live, the fey will not attack Ananyans. But guard your life well, for at the moment of your death, whatever the cause may be, we will no longer restrict our fey cousins.”
Again, I bowed my head in assent. Power boiled inside me, making it hard to focus and speak at first. I forced a measure of control into my voice. “The breach has been healed,” I said.
“Almost,” replied the Queen. “That settles the formal breach of the treaty, but there is one final matter. When you and your party entered this land, you should have been treated as guests. You and those who escort you were emissaries under the terms of the treaty, and yet you were set upon in our lands. For that, there is a debt owed, but some of it can be made right.”
Ever so faintly, the Queen gestured at the platform Sperrin lay on, and I saw his wounds close and vanish. His skin regained its color. A moment later his eyes opened. His daughter knelt beside him and took his hand. Leaning over, Guthre whispered in his ear, and he nodded.
“My thanks to your majesties,” he said, sitting up easily.
That’s right, he’s wearing the Mouse King suit, I remembered. He can speak here, even if they’re not bound to listen. Not that there was much left to say.
The Queen looked at the chancellor’s body lying on the bower, and spoke again. “Your father also died in this land. I understand that some of your people have cause to dislike him, but we have no quarrel with him. He broke no law of ours. If you choose, we can restore him, as Kedessen restored your mother.”
I swallowed hard.
I had expected the choice to be difficult. But really it wasn’t. As empty as it would leave me, I knew what I had to say.
“Respectfully, your majesties, I must decline. For violating his oath to our Empress, he forfeited his life under our law. Restoring it when so many others have died seems contrary to the spirit of the treaty.”
“So it does,” said the Queen. “But you spoke of an Empress. You are Empress now.” She said the words gently, but despite their musical sound, still I could not absorb them.
She looked over all of us. “Very well. Our business here is complete. I will send guides to escort you from our lands. You may go to anywhere in the human lands where our worlds intersect. You will be safe until you leave this land. And you, Empress, are welcome to return. But you, Juila”—her gaze caught the exiled god and burned—“you had best not return if you value your freedom. Next time the treaty will not protect you.”
Juila nodded in acknowledgment but did not speak. Guthre leaned over to whisper in her father’s ear again. I saw a look of surprise in Sperrin’s eyes, then understanding. He looked at me and I understood the signal. There’s something he needs to do. Or that Guthre needs him to do.
“Your majesties, Juila and I will return to the barrow near the Drowned City. If your servants can bring my father’s body as well?” The Queen nodded assent.
Sperrin stood. “Your majesties, my daughter Lynniene and I would like to travel to the location where Kedessen left Ket— left the Empress’s mother. We would like to bring her home.”
“I will send you there, though under the treaty we cannot help you in a way that takes sides in a human conflict. Therefore you will have to find your way back to Ananya afterward without any help from the gods.” Sperrin nodded assent and the Queen continued. “I do not know where she is, but I believe there is one here who does.”
I almost laughed at Sperrin’s expression when he realized who the Queen meant.
Eury, his eyes once again luminous as they had been before Sperrin ruined them, walked up to the soldier and stared him hard in the face. “Be glad you didn’t kill me when you had the chance.”
“Which time?” asked Sperrin. “Killing you was getting to be an everyday thing for a while.”
“Don’t think you’ll have another chance,” Eury said.
“We’ll see,” Sperrin answered. “We will have plenty of chance to talk of it on the road.”
With that, Eury, Sperrin, and Guthre walked from the clearing and disappeared into the shifting forest beyond.
Guthre was just doing it to impress me, I knew. She thought saving my mother would help me get over my anger at her killing my father.
She might be right.
But for now I had to learn to be an Empress. I could feel power swelling within me, seeming to grow at every moment till it threatened to flow out from every pore if I didn’t find an outlet for it. And once we were back home, there would be the old magic as well. It could not be forgotten again; as Empress I could not ignore the possibility that Kedessen’s threat was more than defeated bluster.
I looked at Juila beside me and at the two lion-headed guides who carried my father’s body between them. The Queen and the rest of the court had already faded away, along with the mist and pavilions. We found ourselves on the path once more.
“Come on,” I said. “We have a graveyard to visit.”
* * * *
I thought telling Sperrin and Guthre about their relationship would change everything for them, and I guess it did. But as they walked away on that day, I didn’t see much difference. They still treated each other the same way, mostly. They both still had a quiet confidence that I knew I would never share. Only now I was an Empress. Now I felt the magic filling me until I felt ready to burst, felt ready to rebuild the world all at once. Now I was supposed to decide who got to channel magic and who didn’t, who led armies and orchestras and academies. At first I thought they should have given it to someone better trained, or more knowledgeable, or more grown up. But then it hit me that I was the one who was there, who was knowledgeable enough and trained enough to make a case before the gods and win it. And before it was all over I might have to fight a second Holy War, unless I could become knowledgeable enough and trained enough to prevent it from starting.
A big part of me still felt I was going to be a terrible Empress, the same part of me that always felt I was a terrible daughter. The same part of me that always felt my father was still looking over my shoulder, and critiquing my every move. I guess I was just going to have to get over it, or try to face my demons the way Sperrin was trying to face his.
The first step was to return to the Westbarrow and bury my father, and to bury my fears and perhaps his crimes along with him. And then, with my father a dead statesman instead of a live traitor, it would be time to return to the Drowned City, to the beseiged coast of a beseiged country, and to the seat where the previous Empress had died in my arms.
I wa
s supposed to be your chancellor, Tenia. You were supposed to be Empress.
But the dead girl in my mind laughed easily. You’ll make me proud, Ketya. She was the only one who could call me that now.
We walked on toward the Westbarrow, where my father’s grave would soon join the graves of Juila’s husband and sons, and of my best friend.
A few minutes ago the thought would have filled me with sadness. But now, brimming with magic that belonged to the god who had just begun to pay for his betrayal, I felt like I was returning home.
Chapter 30
Sperrin
On the path to the Valley of Madness: Eight weeks after the Loss
The smile hadn’t left Guthre’s face since we’d turned our backs on the King and Queen of the gods and left the clearing for what was almost certainly a deathtrap. Another deathtrap. And I felt more or less the same way, except I wasn’t setting myself up for the same sort of teenaged heartbreak that my daughter was.
I had tried to talk to her about it. “You know this can’t work, right? Ketya is an Empress now. An Empress can’t just have casual relationships the way a soldier can.”
Guthre had looked at me like I was delusional. “I thought you said you studied history.”
“I did. What does that have to do with relationships?”
Guthre sighed. “Who the Empress is sleeping with is history.”
“I guess.” I felt a little bemused to be having this conversation with my daughter. “Just don’t be too disappointed if it doesn’t work out.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” said Guthre. “But I might as well aim high, right?”
“I’d never really thought of it that way,” I admitted. “Marriages were something the Empress arranged, and you fell in love with whoever you married because the magic made you love them.”
“That’s a terrible system. I hope Ketya doesn’t keep that going.”
“I don’t know what she’s going to do. There’s so much fighting and rebuilding to do, that I can’t imagine matchmaking will be a priority.
“Besides, my brother will kill you all before she has time to start marrying people off,” Eury chimed in. We hadn’t thought he could hear us.
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