Relief shone in his eyes. I forced the warmth to remain on my face for the rest of the evening, even as my lie twisted into a dark, cold knot inside of me.
The Komizar walked me to my new quarters. “I think you’ll find it warmer than Kaden’s drafty room.”
“His quarters were fine. Why not just leave me there?”
“Because if you’re still poking your head out a south tower window after the wedding, instead of being over here with me, the clans might wonder why. We want to at least give them the appearance of a true commitment, don’t we, my dove? But Kaden can come visit you here in the late hours. I’m a generous man.”
“So considerate of you,” I answered. I had been in this tower before. It was where Rafe’s chamber was located, but I had never been on this floor. The Komizar led me to a door opposite his and opened it. The only light came from a small candle that glowed on a table. The first thing I noted was the walls. They appeared to be solid.
“There aren’t any windows,” I said.
“Of course there are. But they’re small, which helps keep it warmer. And look, there’s a nice large bed—enough room for two as the need arises.”
He stepped closer and gently caressed my face where he had struck it. His dark eyes glowed with power. He seemed invincible, and I wondered just how hard it would be to kill him, or if it was even possible. I heard my mother’s admonition. Taking another life, even a guilty one, should never be easy. If it were, we’d be little more than animals.
“Tomorrow is our wedding day, Princess,” he said and kissed my cheek. “Let’s make it a fresh start.” There was no one to see this performance just now, and I wondered at his gentle peck.
As soon as he left, I inspected the room. I thought the shadows would lead to something, a closet perhaps, but the small cramped space was all there was. The four windows were little more than shuttered peek holes six inches across, and the whole room was barely larger than the holding cell he had thrown me into when I first arrived. The chest and bed took up most of the space. This showed a commitment and fresh start? I was more like a tool thrown into a nearby shed.
I began searching through the clothes that Aster, Yvet, and Zekiah had delivered. The candle offered little light, but as I searched every fold and pocket, I began to despair, thinking Calantha had already come and retrieved it. It wasn’t here. I went through everything again, hoping that in my haste I had missed it, but it wasn’t in my clothes or any corner of the chest. I searched under the mattress and found nothing. I’ll be careful and put it in a real good place. Aster knew all the best secret places. A place she was sure—
I ran to the opposite corner, where a lidded chamber pot was nestled on a low stool. I lifted the lid and reached into the dark hole, and my fingers wrapped around something sharp. Aster understood the ways of the Sanctum far too well.
And though the wait may be long,
The promise is great,
For the one named Jezelia,
Whose life will be sacrificed
For the hope of saving yours.
—Song of Venda
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
Just as I suspected, the morning was quiet, absent of storm and wind, and I was certain the Komizar had somehow made an agreement with an unknown god of weather. No doubt it was the god who would pay dearly at some point for the bargain he’d struck.
I had tossed all night and wasn’t sure I’d slept at all. I slid aside one of the shutters, and a blast of cold air hit me. Blinding light poured through the small opening. Once my eyes adjusted, I was stunned by what I saw. Every roof, parapet, and inch of ground in the square below was covered in a thick layer of white. It was both beautiful and frightening. How much would traveling through snow slow us down?
There was a tap on my door, and when I opened it, I saw a tray of cheese and bread on the floor and heard the scurrying footsteps of whoever had delivered it, apparently afraid to be anywhere in the vicinity of the Komizar. I ate every morsel, knowing it might be my last for a while, and then I began to dress, putting on my trousers and shirt as Rafe had instructed. Besides being more suited to riding than a dress, my trousers were far warmer. My shirt still flapped loose from where the Komizar had torn it. I smoothed the fabric up over my shoulder and used Walther’s baldrick to keep it in place.
I heard the early stirrings of the city outside. Say your remembrances from Blackstone Terrace … just after the first bell. The terrace was close to these quarters, in view from the fist-sized windows of my chamber. I judged by the sun that the first bell would ring in an hour or less. By now the Council was probably settled into the talks that I assumed were not going smoothly, judging by some of the governors’ faces last night. Were they balking at the plenty in the Komizar’s silos while their own citizens suffered with growling bellies? Discontented subjects could lead to more challenges and shorter lives. It seemed that the promise of my visions was a way to douse the fires of discontent. The Siarrah, sent by the gods, would see a victory at hand. That would fill the bellies of those in the far-flung provinces for a while.
I put on the furred vest of the Meurasi, pieced together by sacrifice, and my stomach squeezed. They weren’t all my enemies. The word barbarian was gone from my lips, except to describe a savage few, and it seemed at least one lord of Morrighan was among those few.
I’d started to retrieve the knife from beneath the mattress where I’d hidden it when I heard the door rattle. I dropped the mattress and spun around.
It was the Komizar. I stared at him, trying to quickly compose my expression to one of indifference. “You have no Council meetings this morning?”
He scrutinized me, taking his time to answer. “Why are you wearing your riding clothes?”
“They’re warmer, sher Komizar. With the snow on the terrace, I thought them a better choice for saying my morning remembrances.”
“There’ll be no more performances unless I’m with you.” He angled his head to the side, mocking me like I was a dim-witted mule. “I think I need to be there to help you remember exactly what you’re supposed to say.”
“I’ll remember,” I said sternly.
We stood there, both of us hearing the faint chants of Jezelia.
“You won’t be addressing them without me by your side,” he repeated.
I saw it in his eyes. I heard it in his tone. It was all about power, and he couldn’t relinquish even the smallest fistful that had inadvertently passed to me. The pockets of clans throughout the city who gathered in the square had grown and called for me, not him, something he hadn’t anticipated, though he had all but orchestrated it. Compared to the vast numbers in the city and his staggering army, their numbers were few, but he still wanted to control every last one of them and be certain where their loyalties lay.
“They call for me, Komizar,” I said gently, hoping to soften his countenance.
“They can wait. All the better to augment their fervor before the wedding. I have a more important task for you.”
“What task is more important than increasing their fervor with visions of plenty?”
He looked at me suspiciously. “Bolstering the governors who will be going home to their provinces in a week’s time.”
“Is there a problem with the governors?” I asked.
He grabbed the red dress I was to wear for the wedding from the chest and threw it on the bed. “Put it on. I’ll be back to take you to the Council session later today. At my signal, you’ll give the governors their own private performance, where you’ll conveniently flutter your lashes and spew words of victory. The right words this time.”
“But the dress is for our wedding this evening.”
“Put it on,” he ordered. “It would be wasteful to save a dress for a few dim hours.”
I hoped to quickly quell his growing agitation so he would leave. “As you wish, sher Komizar. It’s our wedding day, after all, and I wish to please you. I’ll be dressed by the time you return.” I grabbed the dress from
the bed and waited for him to leave.
“Now, my pet. I’ll be taking your riding clothes with me. You’ll have no need of them, and I know how wedding jitters can make some brides impulsive, especially you.”
He stood there waiting. “Hurry. I don’t have time for your feigned modesty.”
Neither did I. I needed him to return to the Council Wing as soon as possible. I quickly shed my vest, belt, and boots, then turned around to take off the rest. I could feel his eyes drilling into my back, and I quickly wriggled into my dress. Before I could turn around, his hands slid around my waist and his lips traced the kavah on my shoulder. I grabbed my shirt and trousers from the bed and turned, shoving them into his stomach.
He laughed. “Now, that’s the princess I know and love.”
“You’ve never loved anything in your life,” I said.
His expression softened for a brief moment. “How very wrong you are.” He turned to leave, but just before he closed the door behind him, he added, “I’ll be back in a few hours.” His lip lifted in distaste, and he whirled his hand in the air. “Do something with your hair.”
He shut the door, and I ruffled my hair into a ragged mess of frustration. And then I heard a growling thunk.
I ran to the door and tried the latch. It didn’t budge. I pounded with my fists. “You can’t lock me in! That’s not our agreement!” I pressed my ear to the door, but the only answer I got was the faint sound of his footsteps receding.
Agreement. I almost laughed at the word. Unlike Kaden, I knew the Komizar honored nothing unless it served him. I looked around the room for something that could pick the lock. I took a bone from my tether, used my knife to split it into a thin sliver, and prodded at the small keyhole to no avail. Every piece of metal in this wretched damp city was stiff with rust. I tried another bone and another, and heard the chants outside growing louder. Jezelia. When would first bell ring? I ran to the windows, but they were too small and too deep for me to call to anyone. And then I heard a light knock.
“Miz Lia?”
I ran to the door and fell against it. “Aster!” I said, relief flooding through me.
“They’re calling for you,” she said.
“I hear them. Can you unlock the door for me?”
I heard her jiggling keys in the lock. “None of these work.”
My mind raced, trying to think what would take the least time. Fetch Calantha? She had a key to everything in the Sanctum. But whose side would she be on today? I took a chance and told Aster to get her. She left and I sat on the floor, leaning back against the door. Time crept by in agonizing beats, marked by the calls of Jezelia, and then I heard first bell. My heart sank, but then the rush of footsteps clattered through the hall, and I heard Aster’s panting breaths at the door.
“I looked everywhere, Miz. I couldn’t find her. No one knows where she is.”
I tried to calm the panic rising in me. Time was slipping away. I’ll be waiting. Was he still there?
The Komizar’s room. There. “Search the Komizar’s room!” I yelled. It was just across the hall. “He’s gone to the Council Wing. Hurry, Aster!”
I grabbed the baldrick from the bed and slipped my knife into its sheath. Next I added my tether of bones and finally my cloak to conceal the knife. If I did get out of this room, I had to look as I always did to the guards who might see me. Minutes passed. I sat on the bed. Leave without me, Rafe. You promised.
“I got it!” Aster called through the door. I heard the heavy bolt slide and the door opened. Her face beamed with her accomplishment, and I kissed her forehead. “You are the saving angel Aster!”
She rubbed her clipped locks. “Hurry, Miz!” she said. “They’re still calling.”
“Stay here,” I told her. “It might not be safe.”
“Nothing’s safe around here. I’m going to see you get there!”
I couldn’t argue with her logic. It was true. The Sanctum was anything but a sanctuary. The only thing it harbored was constant threat. We ran down halls, steps, and little-used passages, up steps and down steps again. The short distance suddenly seemed like miles. It was not an easy terrace to get to. I prayed I wasn’t too late, but at the same time, I hoped Rafe had left without me and was already safe across the river. We passed no one, thankfully, and finally reached the portal that led to the terrace.
“I’ll wait here and whistle if anyone comes.”
“Aster, you can’t—”
“I can whistle loud,” she said, her chin set in the air.
I hugged her. “I’ll know if someone’s coming. Now, go. Get back to the jehendra and your bapa and stay safe there.” She reluctantly turned away, and I hurried through the long portal to the terrace. It was covered with a thick layer of snow, and I walked to the north wall, knowing I was already late. There would be no stories this morning, only the shortest of remembrances so the guards in the square would suspect nothing, and then I’d be on my way, but when I reached the wall, a pervasive silence spread through the crowd. It spread to me, like hands reaching out, taking mine. Tarry, Jezelia. Tarry for a story. I alone possessed the last surviving copy of the Song of Venda. It wasn’t my story to keep. Whether babble or not, I had to give it back to them before I left.
“Gather close, brothers and sisters of Venda,” I called out to them. “Hear the words of the mother of your land. Hear the Song of Venda.”
* * *
And so I said it, verse after verse, holding none of it back. I spoke of the Dragon feeding on the blood of the young, drinking the tears of their mothers, his cunning tongue and his deadly grip. I told them of hungers of another kind, ones that were never sated or quenched.
I saw heads nod in understanding, and puzzled guards looking at one another, trying to make sense of it. I remembered Dihara’s words, This world, it breathes you in … shares you. But there are some who are more open to the sharing than others. For the guards and many who stood below, my words were only babble, just as Venda’s had been so long ago.
As I spoke, a breeze circled around. I could feel it inside me, stretching, reaching, then moving on again, traveling over the crowd, through the square and down the streets, through the valleys beyond and across the hills.
For the Dragon will conspire,
Wearing his many faces,
Deceiving the oppressed, gathering the wicked,
Wielding might like a god, unstoppable,
Unforgiving in his judgment,
Unyielding in his rule,
A stealer of dreams,
A slayer of hope.
Until one comes who is mightier,
The one sprung from misery,
The one who was weak,
The one who was hunted,
The one marked with claw and vine,
The one named in secret,
The one called Jezelia.
A murmur ran through the crowd, and then Venda was there, standing beside me. She reached out and took my hand. “The rest of the song,” she whispered, and then she spoke more verses.
Betrayed by her own,
Beaten and scorned,
She will expose the wicked,
For the Dragon of many faces
Knows no boundaries.
And though the wait may be long,
The promise is great,
For the one named Jezelia,
Whose life will be sacrificed
For the hope of saving yours.
And then she was gone.
I wasn’t sure if I was the only one who had heard her, or even seen her, but I stood there dazed, trying to grasp the enormity of what she had said. In an instant, I knew those were the verses ripped from the last page of the book. I braced against the wall, steadying myself with this revelation. Sacrificed. The murmur from the crowds grew louder, but then movement caught my eye and my gaze jumped up to a high wall across the way. Chievdars, governors, and Rahtan were watching me. I drew in a startled breath. Their meeting had adjourned early.
“Miz?”
I turned. Aster stood in the middle of the terrace. The Komizar stood behind her with a knife held to her chest.
“I’m sorry, Miz. I just couldn’t leave you like you told me. I—” He pressed the tip of the knife against her, and she blanched with pain.
“Dear gods, no!” I cried, locking my eyes onto the Komizar’s. I pleaded with him, delicate, desperate, and slow, stepping closer, trying to bring his focus back to me. I held on to him fiercely with my eyes and smiled, trying to somehow dispel this madness. “Please, let her go, sher Komizar. You and I can talk. We can—”
“I told you, without me, there would be no more performances.”
“Then punish me. She has nothing to do with this.”
“You, my little bird? At the moment you’re far too valuable. She, on the other hand…” He shook his head, and before I could even fathom what he was doing, he plunged the knife into her chest.
I screamed and ran toward her, catching her as she slipped from his arms. “Aster!” I fell to the ground with her, cradling her in my lap. “Aster.” I pressed my hands to the wound in her chest, trying to stop the flow of blood.
“Tell my bapa I tried, Miz. Tell him I’m no traitor. Tell him we—”
Her last words lay frozen on her lips, her crystal eyes bright, but her breath still. I pulled her to my chest, rocking her, holding her as if I could defy death. “Aster, stay with me. Stay!” But she was gone.
I heard a small chuckle and looked up. The Komizar wiped his bloody knife on his trouser leg and slipped it back into its sheath. He towered over me, his boots dusted with snow. “She got what she deserved. We have no room in the Sanctum for traitors.”
Numbness washed through me. I looked at him, incredulous. “She was only a child,” I whispered.
He shook his head, clucking. “How many times do I need to tell you, Princess, we don’t have such luxuries. Venda has no children.”
I gently slid Aster from my lap onto the snow and got to my feet. I stepped closer to him, and he looked into my eyes with all the smugness of a victor. “Do we understand each other at last?” he asked.