Sky had wished to be in full uniform, but the army hadn’t had proper demon-kissed bodyguard attire to lend him. He relied instead on a dark-purple wrap shirt from the sorceress that was significantly more luxurious than he preferred and his own black trousers and boots. He had gauntlets on his forearms, sword gloves, and his enchanted sword strapped to his back. Rain dripped off him, as he’d not bothered with a cloak in the first place, but his dark hair had already dried, with wisps messily puffing around his ears and jaw that shone blue when they caught light.
Kirin stared at Sky, and clearly wished to speak something, but they weren’t alone.
And suddenly Lord All-in-the-Water was there, filling the doorway to the antechamber with his shoulders.
“Kirin,” he said hugely, relief and concern apparent in the set of his jaw and the clench of his fists. The lord commander of all Warriors of the Last Means, he always wore a belt of wide throwing daggers around his waist, cinching his red-and-white robes, and his hair was unfashionably short.
“Lord All-in-the-Water,” said Kirin turning easily. He walked to the older man.
“Is it you?” the commander asked warily, lifting a black-and-graying eyebrow.
“I imagine I’ll be proving that to my mother, so please don’t make me do it multiple times.”
The lord commander snorted. His cutting hazel eyes flicked to Sky, held there for a moment too long, then found Shine. Her he studied with open suspicion. “You should have come to me,” he said.
Shine realized he meant weeks ago, when she first realized Kirin was an imposter. She did not reply, as she’d never spoken to All-in-the-Water before and had no intention of starting.
“Lead the way,” Kirin said, moving to show if Lord-All-in-the-Water did not, Kirin would go on his own.
Kirin followed the lord commander closely, and Shine and Sky fell in together at his wings. Immli came behind them, unfortunately. Shine’s pulse quickened as her pace did, and she glanced at Sky from the corner of her eye. He noticed—of course he noticed—but he did not return her looks.
A handful of Warriors of the Last Means came along too, and before them servants scattered, peeking around pillars and from doorways. A few noblemen and -women watched from corridors that spilled into this one, especially as they moved through the third circle of the palace. Shine thought if she were among them, she’d be in the smoke ways, tracing the prince’s path unseen and unheard.
They stepped up through the wide, flowing dragon staircase that led into the second circle where the consorts reigned, and in those hallways they had no audience at all. Anyone who could access these rooms would surely be waiting with the empress herself in the first circle.
To Shine’s surprise, Lord All-in-the-Water did not take them to the Court of the Seven Circles but veered off toward the empress’s evening receiving hall. It was a half-circle room along the western edge of the seventh circle, and the outer wall was composed of open archways leading onto a stone porch overlooking the entire rest of the palace. Rain pattered softly against the roof, draining along hung chains into shallow pools shaped like fish. When the water overflowed, it slid through narrow, gilded channels to the edge of the porch, then poured in arcs from the mouths of spirit statues.
When the sky was clear, the sunset lit the porch and set fire to the gilded pillars and gold-seamed marble walls inside. Lush pillows and benches were casually arranged around the empress’s star-shaped chair. Shine had been here for formal occasions, when the setting sun dazzled the air, putting everyone off-kilter and wincing prettily but for the empress, safe with a headdress of shimmering beads or rain-silver shading her face. If they’d been brought here on a sunny day, Shine would have thought something was wrong that the empress wished to set her son on edge. But the rain made it a soft world, comforting and cool, despite the damp breeze.
The empress sat straight-backed upon her chair, hands folded upon her lap. Her face was hidden by a veil of black thread beaded in jet and tiny squares of obsidian that fell down from her forehead to her breast, slipping against the crimson silk of her gown. Black-embroidered peonies darkened the silk like inky shadows, and her nails were lacquered black—just like the sorceress. Shine clenched her hands together, shivering with memory.
Arrayed behind and to either side of the empress were her most trusted attendants, including that pair of palace witches, Aya and Leaf, their heads shaved and painted with sigils Shine still couldn’t read, and a single old priest in pink robes. The witches stared at Shine hard, each with a spirit crow upon her shoulder, their misty bodies forming hard and disintegrating and forming up again in a slow cycle. They glared at her with their single aether-blue eyes.
The First Consort Sun-Bright and Second Consort Love-Eyes each waited as well, just as surrounded by attendants, and at the edges of the room Warriors of the Last Means stood rigid and ready.
Kirin strode in with his usual grace, but halted abruptly before his mother, without offering a bow. He stared silently for a long moment, and Shine resisted the urge to step forward and place a hand between his shoulder blades.
Though Shine missed the signal, suddenly the Warriors of the Last Means leapt forward, moving like lightning through the silk-clad attendants, and held spears tipped in steel at Shine, Sky, and Kirin.
FORTY
THEY STOOD IN A circle of teeth. Shine gasped, eyes widening at the nearest spear tip. Beside her Sky twitched but did not grab his own weapon.
Kirin remained still, chin raised.
Lord All-in-the-Water said, “Show us that it is you and not some imposter. All three of you.”
With a sigh of weary compliance, Kirin swung a hand up and grasped the end of the spear pointed at his neck. The warrior holding it lowered his eyes before remembering his job in that moment was to challenge the prince, not submit. Kirin gripped the spear and lifted his other hand, pressing his palm to the tip. With a sneer at the pain, he jerked his hand, slashing the soft skin.
The black threads of his mother’s veil shivered.
The Second Consort Love-Eyes sucked in a breath: her lovely lips parted, and her green eyes teared. Shine had always found her to be pleasant and willing to allow Shine access to her rooms, and she was sorry to see such obvious distress in the pinking of Love-Eyes’ cheeks.
First Consort Sun-Bright, Kirin’s father, watched stone-faced as a spirit statue. One of his attendants had a hand on his shoulder as if to offer reassurance.
Kirin released the spear and held out his cupped palm. Slowly, eyes on his mother, he tilted his hand and let bright-red blood dribble down the side, trailing in a vivid line before it dripped once, twice, and a third time onto the lustrous wooden floor.
The empress touched the moon pearl set into the collar of state she always wore in public. Approval.
“Mother,” Kirin began, but Lord All-in-the-Water interrupted:
“The others too.”
Shine wrinkled her nose and said, “May I have a smaller blade?”
The lord commander took a throwing knife from his belt and stepped through the circle of spears to offer her the hilt.
“Thank you,” she murmured, and without art sliced open the back of her wrist. She hissed, and held it out, showing the blood.
Sky put his hand before her, and Shine gripped the knife tighter, lifting her eyes to his. She recalled when he’d cut himself before the empress right after she slit the throat of the imposter. Then he’d turned away from the empress; now he did not.