Beyond the Shadows

  Terah gaped, but Luc’s eyes never left her face. The guilt written there was plain. “I did it for us. She was going to betray us! For the gods’ sake, help me, Kylar,” Terah begged.

  It was a mistake. She could have faced Luc down. The last thing she should have done was remind him of the other man she’d been about to fuck. Luc screamed again and stabbed her in the stomach. She shrieked and Luc cowered back, then attacked again, gashing her arm as she lurched to her feet. He stabbed at her back as she ran to a wall, caught the ribbing of her dress and dropped the dagger.

  Terah found a bellrope and yanked on it over and over.

  Luc picked up the bloody dagger and walked toward her, his face a mask of grief and rage, weeping and cursing. He stood in front of his sister as she collapsed on the floor. Kylar wondered if Luc saw what he saw. Terah Graesin without power, without the hauteur, was a pitiful shadow. She hunched into the corner, blubbering. “Please, Luc, please. I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  Perhaps Luc did see the same thing as Kylar, because he stopped, paralyzed. He still held the dagger, but Kylar knew that he wouldn’t use it now.

  Terah’s wounds weren’t fatal, Kylar was certain of that, especially not with a green maja in the castle. Terah would recover, and she would owe the Chantry an enormous debt. She would put her brother to death and she would capitalize on people’s sympathy for her to move against her enemies real or imagined. Poor Luc Graesin. The weak bastard wasn’t even eighteen yet.

  Kylar slapped the young man, hard, and plucked the dagger from his hands. Luc fell. “Look at me,” Kylar told him.

  The Royal Guards were on their way. They might arrive any moment. Kylar could cut Terah’s throat, knock Luc senseless, climb out the window, and rejoin the party. Luc would be beheaded for treason and murder and Logan would be made king. Doubtless, whoever had told Luc about Natassa’s betrayal intended exactly that.

  Luc met his eyes and Kylar weighed the young man’s soul.

  Kylar cursed loudly. “You’re no killer, Luc Graesin. You marched right up here, didn’t you? Walked past a dozen witnesses? I thought so.”

  “What are you doing?” Terah demanded. “Help me.”

  Kylar looked into Luc’s eyes again and saw a young man bound in chains not of his own making. Luc was no saint, nor purely a victim, but he didn’t deserve death.

  “Tell me one thing,” Kylar said. “If you could take the throne, would you?”

  “Hell no,” Luc said.

  He was telling the truth. “Then I give you these, Luc: first, knowledge: you’re no killer. These wounds won’t kill your sister. Second, your life. Make something of it. Third, I spare you a sight that would never leave you.”

  “What?” Luc asked.

  Kylar punched him in the forehead. Luc dropped like a stone. Kylar rubbed Luc’s bloody hands against his own. He cut Luc’s tunic in two places with the dagger and finally stabbed him in the meat of his shoulder, shallowly.

  Terah was aghast. “What are you doing?”

  Kylar drew the mask of judgment over his face. “I’ve come for you, Terah.” He let the ka’kari sink back into his skin.

  She screamed. He grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled her to her feet. He planted the dagger in her shoulder, and with his right hand free, pressed it against her wounded stomach to get it bloody. He wiped the blood on both sides of his face and pulled the dagger out of her shoulder. He stood behind her, using her body as a shield between him and the door. She was begging, screaming, cursing, weeping, but Kylar barely heard her. He sighed and when he inhaled, he smelled her hair. It smelled of youth and promise.

  There was the sound of jingling armor and heavy footsteps pounding up the hall. A dozen Royal Guards burst into the room, bristling with weaponry. Behind them Logan Gyre and Duke Wesseros and their guards pushed into the room. In seconds, they’d formed a half circle around Kylar and the queen. Dozens of weapons were leveled at Kylar.

  “Put it down!” a royal guard yelled. “Put it down now!”

  “Help me. Please,” Terah begged.

  “By the gods, Kylar,” Logan shouted. “Don’t do this. Please!”

  For the job, it was perfect. Now dozens of witnesses had seen Logan command Kylar to stop. There remained only one thing. Kylar painted a desperate expression on his face. “Luc tried to stop me, and he couldn’t,” Kylar raved. “And you can’t either!”

  Kylar slashed the dagger through Terah Graesin’s throat, and all the world screamed.

  49

  Mother,” Kaede said, coming into the study, “how are the wedding preparations coming?”

  Daune Wariyamo raised her eyes from the papers spread all over her desk. She loved lists. “Our responsibilities are well in hand. Everyone has been informed of their precedence and the expected protocols. I only worry about Oshobi’s mother. I’d say she has the brain of a hummingbird, except hummingbirds can hover for a moment or two. I expect the Takedas’ half of the ceremony to be an unmitigated disaster.” She pulled off her pince nez. “I heard some lunatic arrived, claiming to be a Tofusin.”

  A Tofusin, she said. As if there were more than one.

  “He’s nothing. Some white-haired freak,” Kaede said, waving it away. “Mother, I want your opinion. An insult’s been done to our family honor that may be on some people’s minds as we go into this wedding, so I think I have to deal with it now. One of the cousins cuckolded her husband. She swears it was long ago and brief, but its effects continue. What should I do?”

  Daune Wariyamo scrunched her eyebrows, as if the answer were so obvious that Kaede was stupid for asking. “A slut can not be tolerated, Kaede. A whore dishonors us all.”

  “Very well. I’ll see it taken care of.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Mother,” Kaede said quietly, “I’m going to ask you a question, and if you lie to me, the consequences will be harsher than you can believe.”

  “Kaede! Is this how you to speak to your mother—”

  “None of that, mother. What—”

  “Your tone is so disrespectful, I—”

  “Silence!” Kaede shouted.

  Daune Wariyamo was too stunned for the moment to begin the usual tactics.

  “Did you or did you not intercept letters that Solon sent to me?” Kaede asked.

  Daune Wariyamo blinked rapidly, then said, “Of course I did.”

  “For how long?” Kaede asked.

  “I don’t remember.”

  “How long?” Kaede asked, her voice dangerous.

  The empress’s mother said nothing for a long moment. Then she said, “Years. Letters came every month, sometimes more often.”

  “Every week?”

  “I suppose.”

  “What did you do with them, mother?”

  “That Solon was worse than his brother.”

  “Don’t you ever speak to me of that monster. Where are the letters?”

  “They were a tissue of lies. I burned them.”

  “When did he stop sending them?” Kaede asked.

  Her mother’s expression went blank for a moment, then she said, “I don’t know, ten years ago?”

  “He didn’t stop, did he? Don’t you dare lie to me, by the gods, don’t you dare.”

  “It’s only a few times a year now. For all I knew, it was some impostor, hoping to break your heart again, Kae. Don’t let this stranger ruin everything. Even if it is Solon, you don’t know him. If you postpone this wedding, it could mean the end of you. Harvest is the only time for a queen to marry, and if you delay, the seas will be impassable. The lords from the other isles won’t be able to attend. You need this. We can’t offend the Takedas again.”

  Clan Takeda had been a thorn in Kaede’s side since she’d taken the throne. They had angled and manipulated for years for this wedding, and if as a younger woman she had sworn she would never marry Oshobi, now she knew there was no other way. “Mother, is there anything else you haven’t told me? Anything you want to conf
ess?”

  “Of course not—”

  Kaede held up a finger. “I want you to think very carefully. You’re not as good a liar as you believe.”

  Her mother hesitated, but the look on her face was that of a woman aggrieved that she could be suspect. “There’s nothing.”

  Kaede had been wrong. Her mother was an excellent liar. Kaede turned to a guard. “Summon my secretary and the chamberlain.”

  “Kae, what are you doing?” Daune asked.

  The officials stepped into the room in moments. Kaede had had them waiting outside. “Mother, the woman you called a slut and a whore is you. You betrayed my father and dishonored us.”

  “No! I never—”

  “Did you expect to get away with it? You fornicated with an emperor—a man surrounded by bodyguards and slaves at all hours, and you the lady of a high house, with bodyguards and slaves of your own. Did you think no one would notice?”

  There was real fear in Daune Wariyamo’s face for the first time Kaede had ever seen. “It didn’t mean anything, Kae.”

  “Until you got pregnant and didn’t know who the father was.”

  Daune Wariyamo stood transfixed, as if she couldn’t believe all of her secrets had yielded their rotten fruit on the same day. Around the room, officials and guards stood with mouths agape, barely daring to breathe.

  “I wondered for years, Mother, why a woman so ambitious wouldn’t want me to have anything to do with Prince Solon. It’s because you were afraid he was my brother. You were afraid that your whoring would lead me, innocently, to an incestuous bed. Apparently your sense of honor is only diseased rather than nonexistent.”

  Tears were rolling down Daune’s cheeks. “Kaede, I was young. He said he loved me.”

  “Did you believe the green mages when they examined me? I had no idea why at the time, I was only nine years old—too young to be showing Talent yet. They found out that I was a Wariyamo, didn’t they? Weren’t you relieved?”

  “For a while. When Solon came home, a full blue mage at nineteen, he asked to see me secretly. That’s when I knew. He tried to be so subtle, swearing how he would never hurt you, but under it all, there were threats, Kaede. What would happen when he got tired of you? What if I ever vexed him? He could destroy me with a word. I would be his slave for the rest of my life. What if you opposed him? He could lie, say the mages proved you were illegitimate. He was a mage himself; everyone would believe it. We’d lose everything. Our only hope was to keep him away from us. It wasn’t like I was hurting him. I even got him an offer for more schooling at Sho’cendi, which was a high honor.”

  Kaede’s face relaxed despite her fury. The decision had been made. The truth was out. Now there was room for sorrow. “So you ruined my chances of happiness because you couldn’t believe that the man I loved would keep his word?”

  “I was protecting us. No one’s as good as they pretend to be,” Daune said.

  “True in your case,” Kaede said. She turned. “Secretary Tayabusa, please record that the queen mother is henceforth stripped of all privileges and titles. She is banished from all the isles and territories of Seth, and if found on them after tomorrow, the penalty will be death. At dawn, Chamberlain Inyouye, you will have her accompanied to the harbor. You will pay her passage to whatever port she chooses. You will give her ten thousand yass, and make sure that she leaves. She may be accompanied by one servant if one can be found who volunteers to accompany her.”

  Everyone was stunned.

  “Mother,” Kaede said, “if this were the first time you’d lied to me, I wouldn’t do this. It is, however, the last time. Guards, I wish two of you to stay with her at all times. I doubt she will attempt to harm herself, but she has shown herself to be an adulteress and a liar. I don’t expect theft is below her.”

  “You can’t do this,” Daune said, breathing so rapidly Kaede expected her to pass out.

  “I already have.”

  “I’m your mother!”

  Kaede stepped forward and put her hands on each side of her mother’s face. She kissed her forehead. She took hold of the six platinum chains strung between her mother’s cheek and ear and tore them out. Daune screamed, her ear torn to ribbons, her cheek dribbling blood.

  Kaede said, “No, you are Queen Mother no more. You are Daune Wariyamo no more. Henceforth, you are Daune Outcast. Guards?”

  The captain of the guard and his second stepped forward and took the outcast by each arm to lead her from the room.

  “Kae! Kaede, please!”

  “Captain,” Kaede said as the guards neared the door, almost dragging their prisoner. “About what happened here . . .”

  The captain looked quickly at each of his men. “You can be assured of my men’s complete discretion, Your Majesty.”

  Secretary Tayabusa cleared his throat. “And I have written down the names of everyone in this room. If anyone speaks of this, they will be discovered and punished accordingly.” He leveled a heavy gaze at each of the various servants and functionaries in turn.

  “On the contrary,” Kaede said, “no one will be punished for speaking of what happened here. My dead mother shamed my family, and I will not grant her the mercy of covering her deeds in silence. Most of all, my betrothed and his family deserve to know the truth before they wed their honor to mine.”

  If the Takedas went ahead with the marriage obviously knowing the truth, they would have a harder time destroying her than if she married and then they “found out” about her shameful secret. Other than that, there were few things the Takedas could do. A coup was doubtful, despite Oshobi’s popularity among the city guard. The Takedas’ postponing the marriage until spring was most likely, and that would give her time. Time might give her opportunities. Best for her personally and worst for Seth, the Takedas might cancel the wedding and withdraw to their home island. That would mean they would come back in the spring for war.

  At sunrise, Vi swung her feet over the side of her bed in her little room. She’d barely slept after leaving Sister Ariel, and she’d had horrible dreams about Kylar and oceans of blood. Maybe it was an omen. She was supposed to meet Elene this morning, first thing. She touched the water basin. “Cold,” she said. When ice crystals began to spider across the surface, she broke the ice and washed her face, gasping despite herself. In minutes she finished her ablutions and pulled the ill-fitting tyro’s robe over her ill-fitting shift. Vi tied back her hair with the white ribbons Sister Ariel had given her.

  She heard the familiar scuff of Sister Ariel’s steps before the Sister knocked on her door and came in without waiting for permission.

  “You’re up,” Sister Ariel said, surprised. “You’re going to see her?”

  “She’s up in the pommel of the Seraph’s sword?” Vi asked.

  “Praying still, Uly says. Vi,” Sister Ariel paused. “You’re one of us now. The Seraph will pay your debts. If you need to, you can offer her whatever it takes.”

  “I don’t think she’s looking for a bribe,” Vi said.

  “Nor do I.” Sister Ariel paused again. “I expected I’d have to force you to go to her, Vi. The girl you used to be would never have done this. Well done.”

  Perfect, now it was impossible to back down.

  Vi found the central staircase and began climbing. She was only a few floors up when the stones pulsed gently as they did every dawn. She paused on a landing as nearly invisible trickles of dust joined together into rivulets. They rushed past her feet as a small hole opened in the wall. The single day’s accumulation of dust slipped through and the hole closed. Everywhere in the Seraph, the scene was repeated. Powered by the first rays of sunlight, all natural dirt was whisked away. Outside, the Seraph would appear to be briefly surrounded by a corona as magic repulsed dirt, grime, rain, or snow. The debris would cascade into the lake and there be dispersed by magic that kept the waters around the Seraph even cleaner than the rest of Lake Vestacchi.

  There were, of course, still plenty of chores for the tyros. The
magic was disengaged in any room where it might interfere with a Sister’s experiments or sensitive artifacts, and it disregarded scraps of parchment, clothes, or anything else someone might leave on the floor. But without the magic, the tyros could have worked constantly and never been able to keep the Chantry clean. It was simply too big.

  Vi reached one of the upper floors where full Sisters had their apartments. There was some pecking order to who had what floor and which Sisters got the treasured southern exposures, but Vi had no idea how it worked. Mercifully, no one was in the hall. Vi followed the unflickering lamps to the southwest corner. The Seraph held a sword in her left hand, its point at her feet, the hilt coming above her waist, held slightly to one side. The pommel of that giant sword was capped with a round jewel. The room was a globe from which Sisters could see sunrise and sunset. The walls were always transparent. It was a sanctuary for those who needed to meditate or, as in Elene’s case, pray.

  Taking a deep breath, Vi opened the door. Elene was seated, looking toward the eastern mountains. The view was breathtaking. Vi had never been so high in her life. The punts in the lake below looked the size of her thumb. The mountains glowed. The sun was a jagged half-circle barely peeking over them. But Vi’s eyes sought out Elene’s face. Her skin glowed in the gentle light, her eyes deep brown, her scars softened. She gestured for Vi to come stand with her, not glancing away from the horizon.

  Tentatively, Vi stepped up beside her. Together, they watched the sun rise.

  Not daring to turn and look Elene in the face, but not able to wait another moment, Vi said, “I’m sorry if I interrupted your prayers.” She drew her knife and rested it across her palms. “I made you a promise. I’ve done you and Kylar a great wrong. If you wish . . . I deserve no less.”

  Elene took the knife. After a minute, she said, “His mercies are new every morning.”

  Vi blinked. She glanced over at Elene and saw a tear tracking down her cheek. “Uh, whose?”