<Now can I say something?> Kira asked as the soldier flew away. She was holding on to Rho’s coat, not just to keep him close, but to keep herself upright too. She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening, and did her best to hold back a gasp as the twisting motion sent a stab of pain across her abdomen. <Listen, we can’t go in there—it’d be as good as telling Gannon we’re hiding something. We don’t even know for certain if Trey is in any danger. After all, Cyrrin must have some way of hiding those people if she’s kept them safe without anyone’s help up until now.>
<We can’t take that chance,> said Rho. <I’m sorry, but this isn’t the time to lose your nerve.>
Kira bit back a curse. <That’s not— Rho, this is madness. Gannon is not going to arrest Vrinna because of me; not now, not when he’s waiting for the cursed to turn up.>
<He will.>
<Oh, of course,> Kira snapped, <because you know him so much better than I do.>
<Vrinna’s gone against him by attacking you,> Rho reminded her. <He won’t tolerate that: it’s like an itch. He’ll have to scratch it. Now just wait here and I’ll be right back.>
<Rho—>
But he was gone, and she hurt too much to run after him. She had lost her hood and the cold that had been soothing to her bruised skin at first now struck her like a lash. At least no one was paying any attention to her: not with the tomb’s dark doorway whispering to them of the Under-realm. Even Kira found herself drawn to the power behind that black arch.
Rho soon returned with two guards to escort them to Gannon. As they were led up the stairs and across through the smaller side door, Kira pinched the edges of her cowl together to keep it closed. If Rho was going to force her to act out this mummers’ play, she could at least keep the audience to a minimum.
Maintaining her modesty became even more difficult when they got inside. High-clansmen in full battle-dress clogged the hall and the stairs, all checking and rechecking their blades and the rivets in their shields, while messengers pushed their way through the crowds and frightened servants tried to stay out of everyone’s way. Kira dragged her feet as they moved up the steps to the second-floor gallery, her jaw clenched, hemmed in by the guards in back and Rho in front.
When they reached the throne room and the guards inside opened the doors, a rush of air as cold as outside pushed against her. Gannon had turned the room into his command post. His favorite generals—Denar, Olin and Gerstan—stood around a large table staring down at a huge map of Norland; the weighty battle-gear they wore explained why no one had lit the fire. Scribes sat around a second table, sharpening their pens or flexing their fingers to keep them limber in the freezing room. Youths not yet old enough for battle hugged themselves on the benches lining the eastern wall, waiting to carry messages that had yet to be transcribed.
<Will you pick up the pace, please?> Kira urged her guards, feeling the stares as they walked down the length of the room to the terrace doors at the opposite end. <We’re not out for a stroll, you know. I’d like to see the emperor before the cursed attack and kill us all, thank you very much. How long do you think we’ll give the Mongrel on that, by the way? Can we stop waiting for her when it gets to be dinner-time? I mean, we can’t fight the greatest war since Eowara’s time on empty stomachs, can we?>
Servants pulled the terrace doors open at their approach and more cold air swirled into the room, rustling through the maps and the scribes’ paper and blowing in a cloud of snowflakes that didn’t melt when they fell to the black stone floor. Rho let go of Kira’s arm and stepped away from her as they crossed the threshold. She felt surprisingly adrift without his presence next to her.
Gannon stood motionless in the center of the terrace, looking up toward the beacon fire twisting in the wind on the headland while his dogs ranged around him, lifting their heads to sniff at everything and nothing. He had already traded his imperial sword for the restored Valor’s Storm, and the newly burnished gold on its hilt and its bronze scabbard gleamed in the early evening light. Kira waited with Rho while the guards who had brought them went to explain.
Gannon did not move or even turn to look at them as they were ushered across the snowy terrace to stand before him.
<Your Majesty,> said Rho, <Captain Vrinna should be arrested immediately.>
<So they told me. What’s she supposed to have done?> asked Gannon.
<Supposed to have done? Supposed?> Kira wailed, stepping forward and lowering her cowl with all the theatricality she could muster. <As if everyone can’t see what she’s done to me!>
Gannon finally turned around and reeled back in disgust at the sight of her battered face. <Vrinna did that to you?>
<Jealousy, that’s what it is,> said Kira, putting up her cowl again with numb hands. He didn’t believe them; they were going to fail. <She’s always been jealous, and now she’s finally snapped. She came at me like some kind of rabid beast. Honestly, I don’t believe she’s responsible for her actions; that’s why I couldn’t bring myself to kill her, because of course you know I could have if I’d wanted to. She’s gone to Onfar’s Circle, then, has she? Well, someone should go after her at once. I don’t care if we’re going to war, she can’t do this to a fellow high clansman and get away with it. We’d lose the respect of the gods if we let something like that happen—and we would deserve it, too.>
Gannon regarded her with a kind of steely inquisitiveness, studying her like a map of enemy territory. He said nothing for a long time, letting the moment stretch until she didn’t think she could stand the agitation buzzing in her bones another moment.
<Send a squad after Captain Vrinna,> Gannon said to the guards, <and see that she’s brought straight to me.>
Rho’s triumphant relief rolled toward her like a crystal-blue wave and she straightened her spine to keep from sagging down onto the snow-covered flags. She felt him in her mind, looking to share the victory with her. His plan had worked. For the first time she thought she might be able to forgive him for running away and leaving her alone with the shame of having betrayed Trey.
Gannon suddenly said something to the guards behind Rho’s shoulder and they kicked Rho’s legs out from under him. He dropped, cracking his knees on the stone flags, while a pair of heavy hands landed on his shoulders and held him down. Another guard grabbed Kira’s arms and pinned them behind her back, making her whole body scream with pain.
<What’s wrong?> Kira yelped. <Your Majesty? What’s happening? Don’t you believe me?>
<I believe you,> said Gannon. <Vrinna’s broken my laws, and she’ll pay for it. There’s something about Vrinna, though … she doesn’t do anything without a reason. You must have done something. >
<Lady Kira hasn’t done anything,> cried Rho. <You have to believe me!>
<No, I don’t have to believe you, Rho Arregador,> said Gannon, focusing on him as if he was a spider scuttling up the wall beside him. <I felt sorry for Trey. He deserved a better older brother than you; that’s why I let him stay by my side. He hated how weak you were. He hoped you’d die in the Shadar—I bet you didn’t know that.>
Kira stared down at the black stone marked with the guards’ slushy footprints, feeling like her heart was about to burst.
<That cousin of mine over there, Eofar, he told me how you killed that Shadari bitch. Cut her throat, right?> Gannon circled around behind him.
Kira remembered the night Gannon had cut off Ingeld’s hand and tried not to faint.
<Didn’t you?>
<I did,> said Rho.
<Bet there was a lot of blood. Just pours out from a cut like that, eh?>
<Yes, it does. It did.>
At a gesture from Gannon, the guards grabbed Rho’s arms and pulled him back up to his feet. Snow matted the bottom of his coat where he’d been kneeling on it, and Kira could see the wet stains on his trousers. Gannon bent down and squinted at Rho’s abdomen.
<Eofar told me the whole story: the boy’s father cut you, right around here, wasn’t it?> Gannon looke
d around, and that’s when Kira saw Eofar standing in the shadows by the terrace doors. She felt nothing from him; he was as blank as a snowdrift.
Gannon reared back and struck Rho in his side; Kira felt his pain like glass shattering, but had to listen again to the blunt sound of fist against muscle even as she looked away. She heard another punch, felt another scream, and then saw Rho fall over in the dirty snow before the guards pulled him up so Gannon could hit him again.
Rho coughed and spat out blood as the dogs loped over and circled around him hungrily.
Gannon turned to her, shaking out his fist. <How come you haven’t asked me to stop?>
<Oh, was I supposed to?> asked Kira, scraping up all of her will to keep herself under control. <You never said. If we’re going to play a game, it’s only fair to explain the rules before we start.>
<There’s only one rule,> said Gannon, and he hit Rho again while she looked on helplessly. <I’m the one who says when the game is over. I thought you knew that.>
Gannon finally stopped and issued a few orders to the guards, but Kira couldn’t focus on what he said over the need to keep back the nauseating swell of her hatred. She would flay her own skin before she let Gannon touch her again, and if she had been able to reach her sword, she would have gone for him then and there, even though he would have ended her life in less than a heartbeat.
<Eofar!> Rho called out as the guards dragged him back into the throne room by his arms, straining them so badly she was afraid they would snap out of the sockets. She was marched along behind. Eofar still said nothing as they passed by him.
They were brought back through the room to the small door to the left of the dais, the one which led into the little room Emperor Eoban had used for private meetings when he was holding court. Kira’s foot caught on the raised threshold and she stumbled as they shoved her inside. Stone surfaces slammed into her from various angles as she rolled across the floor. By the time the door banged shut, she couldn’t move. She lay curled up against the pain, wheezing into the darkness.
<Rho?> she called out at last. She could feel his presence nearby like a bleeding wound, but he didn’t respond. The only light came from the transom over their heads and their own luminous skin. When she was finally able to sit up, Kira looked down at the silver blotches left on her coat from her trip down into the caves; they looked bigger to her than before.
<Well, except for getting the shit beat out of me,> said Rho, as he sat up against the wall and pulled off his hood, <my plan worked brilliantly.>
<That’s one way to look at it.>
The door swung open again, sliding dim light across one-half of the room and showing the hazy outlines of a pair of chairs and a table. Eofar Eotan came through the door and shut it behind him.
<Why didn’t you help him?> Kira demanded, fury giving her enough strength to clamber to her feet and face him. <You could have stopped Gannon—you watched Rho being beaten half to death and you did nothing!>
<I warned him to stay out of this,> said Eofar. <I never wanted him to get hurt.>
<That would be easier to believe if you hadn’t told Gannon exactly where to hit him,> she shot back.
<You don’t understand.> The reek of wine saturating his clothes made her eyes water; she had a pretty good idea of what he’d been doing since they’d left Eowara’s tomb. <I’ve made up my mind: Gannon is the real monster here and he has to be stopped. No one in the Shadar—or anywhere else—will be able to live in peace until he’s gone.>
<Stopped, how?>
<He means he’s going to challenge Gannon for the throne,> said Rho, pulling himself up on the wall. <And that’s suicide. I’m not going to let you do it, Eofar. I’m so angry with you I would choke you myself if I could reach you, but I still don’t want to see Gannon cut you in half.>
<That’s not going to happen,> said Eofar. <Gannon gave up his imperial sword for Valor’s Storm, just like I planned. Strife’s Bane gives me the advantage now. I will defeat him.>
<Eofar, I know you think this is the best way to free the Shadar—>
<Not just that,> he said, cutting Rho off. His silver-blue eyes shone brighter than anything else in the room. <Freeing the Shadar isn’t enough; not any more. The rot of this place goes too deep for that. I’m going to free the world from the Norlander scourge. I’m going to end the empire itself.>
<You’re a fool if you think you’ll end the empire by taking the throne from Gannon,> said Kira, not bothering to temper her scorn. <The Eotans will get rid of you soon enough and the empire will go on just like it did before.>
<You still don’t understand.> Eofar’s emotions rocked between heady expectation and plummeting dread in a way Kira recognized all too well. It came from trying to deceive yourself about the wrongness of something you were about to do. She’d felt the same the night she’d slept with Rho. <If the elixir predicted the cursed would come, then they’ll come. I’m going to wait for them, and then I’m going to kill Gannon, and after I do, I’m going to let the cursed have their way with Norland. I’m going to walk away and leave it bleeding behind me.>
<Nations don’t bleed, Eofar,> said Rho, stumbling forward and grabbing Eofar’s coat. <People bleed.>
But Rho ignored her, even as he clutched her shoulder for support. <So, that’s your plan, Eofar? Save the world from the empire by letting the cursed kill everyone in Norland? Say you succeed: what then? What if Lord Valrig decides that Norland isn’t enough for him, what happens to the world then?>
<Stop talking about this,> Kira demanded. <Just stop it, Rho.>
<You were there in Eowara’s tomb,> Eofar said to her. The force of his resolve pushed into her mind, powerful enough to back her up a step. <I know you felt it, too. Something’s coming. They’re coming. You can talk yourself out of believing it all you want, but you won’t stop them.>
<No!> said Kira stubbornly. <No, I will not allow this discussion to continue. You don’t know what you’re talking about, Eofar. You know nothing about the cursed. They’re not beasts. They’re not what you think they are at all.>
<He knows what they are.> Rho sighed, loosening his grip on her shoulder. His words ached with something Kira had never felt from him before and it confused her. <That girl I told you about? The one who lost her arm? That’s Eofar’s sister. He cut her arm off after she’d been burned. He saved her life.>
Kira’s mind just stopped, like she’d turned a page in a book and found the next one blank.
<This isn’t what Harotha wanted, Eofar,> Rho pleaded. <Don’t wait until after you’ve done something you can’t undo to find that out. Trust me, I know. I should have stopped you before things went this far. Please don’t give me something else to regret.>
<I’ll see that you both get out of Ravindal when the time comes. Dramash, too,> said Eofar, striding to the door.
<Wait!> Rho reached out to grab Eofar’s coat as he walked by, but he missed and reeled into the wall clutching his side. Eofar opened the door and went out again, leaving Kira and Rho alone in the near-darkness.
<I don’t care what he says,> said Kira, as a strange shudder wound through her, starting from the half-healed cut under her left eye. <Nothing is going to happen. It’s going to be all right.>
<No,> Rho moaned from the shadows, <no, it’s really not.>
Chapter 29
Isa found an empty room in Valrigdal where she could put on the clothes Dara had given her. As soon as she was alone a pang of homesickness shivered through her. The fire in Cyrrin’s surgery waited just down the hall, but so did Lahlil, with all her stifling, self-serving interference. She needed to be away from the twist and pull of others’ emotions so she could think of some way to get to Ravindal, because she was certain now that Lahlil had no intention of helping her.
From
Trey, she had learned that a fast triffon could reach Ravindal in less than two hours, and that someone who knew the route and how to survive the terrain could reach it on foot in a few days. None of that helped. She didn’t have a triffon, or any way to get one, and her odds of survival out there on her own would be about the same if she stripped naked and covered herself in jam first.
She went up onto the gallery and then kept climbing, stretching over gaps where the stones had fallen away. She’d tucked a piece of hard biscuit and some dried meat into her pocket—she knew she should eat something to keep up her strength—but the gamey smell of the meat only worsened the sour cramp in her stomach.
She emerged onto a stretch of battlement where holes for long-gone iron spikes lined the walls. The short walkway terminated in what had once been the tower, but was now just a few walls with the remains of a fireplace and a doorway to a four-story drop straight down into the woods below. Thaw-vine crept over all of it, and the constant dripping of the snow melting through it tapped against her raw nerves with tiny insistent fingers.
She went across to the wall and looked out over the landscape, out to where Ravindal taunted her somewhere beyond the horizon. Heavy snowflakes blended into a white haze over an empty plain; beyond that, the forest sloped up before giving way to a range of rocky hills. By screwing up her eyes, she thought she could make out a smoky shape far, far off in the distance to the southeast where flag-topped spires and spiked parapets rose up from the clouds of her imagination just as they had in the days when her mother had spun tales of far-off Norland.
A flock of dark birds swept across the sky right above her in a wave, then veered off the opposite way. A flash of color caught her eye just as the little birds scattered in all directions—the blue bird from the forest was streaking after them. The flock regrouped and headed down into the trees with the blue bird following, and she lost sight of them as they disappeared below the wall.