Safire shook her head. “I don’t think so. She knows the Namsara is in the Star Isles, and intends to hunt her down. It’s why—”
“Is the Namsara in the Star Isles?” the empress asked, leaning forward in her chair.
Safire glanced up, remembering suddenly that Asha had declined the empress’s invitation. She might see it as a slight, Asha visiting her islands but not visiting her. It might do more than offend her; it might sabotage the alliance forming between her and Dax—an alliance that meant salvation for the scrublands.
“Asha is”—Safire struggled to think of an explanation that wouldn’t offend her—“searching for someone. It’s of the utmost importance that she finds them, and only recently has her search taken her here, to these islands.” The next thing she said was a lie. “Dax only got word in Darmoor.”
Maybe Eris really is rubbing off on me. . . .
Leandra’s gray eyes remained fixed on her face. “Perhaps I can be of assistance in this search. Who is she looking for?”
That was the problem. They didn’t know who this maker was, only that a clue might be found at the scrin.
Which no longer existed.
“She’s looking for the owner of an artifact,” Safire explained. “A weapon called the Skyweaver’s knife.”
Abruptly, Leandra rose from her desk, walking toward one of the windows. The silence built, glistening around Safire. “The weapon your queen used to save her sister,” she finally murmured, as if suddenly a world away.
“Yes.” Safire frowned. “How did you know that?”
“I heard . . . rumors,” said the empress. “Roa confirmed them over dinner yesterday.” She glanced over her shoulder at Safire. “I confess: it was part of the reason for my invitation. I wanted to know if the rumors were true.”
“I went to warn Asha,” Safire went on. “But she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.” Safire stood. “This is why I need your help. Eris escaped me only yesterday, and—”
“Eris?” Still turned toward Safire, the empress’s mouth twisted, as if she’d tasted something sour. “Is that the fugitive’s name?”
Safire nodded.
Leandra said nothing for a moment, then turned back to the window. She stared hard into the distant hills, then nodded for Safire to go on. “Eris,” she murmured, as if testing the name on her tongue.
“She doesn’t know Asha’s precise location. I don’t think it’s possible she’s found her yet, but I’m certain she will find her—and soon.”
“You don’t want her getting to the Namsara before you do.” Leandra fisted her hand, pressing it to her lips. “Well. Neither do I.” Dropping her hand, she said, “I’ll send out soldiers to every village in the Star Isles. Starting today. If the Namsara is here, we’ll find her.”
Safire felt a weight lift from her. “Thank you. She has a dragon with her—a massive black dragon with a scar through one eye. He’s difficult to miss.”
Leandra nodded. “I’ll pass that information along. Now, if you could do me a favor and recatch my fugitive . . .”
Safire bowed her head. “Of course.”
“And if you think of anything else I should know, report it directly to me.” She motioned to her attendant—the young girl Safire had all but forgotten. “Will you please see King Dax’s commander out?”
The girl nodded, motioning for Safire to follow her.
“If there’s anything else I can do for you,” said Leandra, returning to the window, watching the mist from the scarps slowly descend on the city below, “please let my staff know.”
“Actually,” said Safire, halting halfway to the doors, then turning back, “there is one thing. I was hoping you could tell me anything you know about her that could help me track her down. Perhaps the village she grew up in, or if she has any—”
“I’ve already told you all I know about the fugitive,” said Leandra, looking south—the direction of the ruined scrin.
Safire could tell she was overstepping her bounds now. But if she was going to find Eris in these islands, she needed as much help as she could get.
“Then I wonder if I could speak to one of the pirates Dax captured?” she pressed. “Kor seems to know Eris fairly well. He might be able to give us more information. Is there someone who could show me to the prison where he’s being kept?”
“Kor and his crew have already been executed,” said Leandra, her voice cold. “We got the information we needed from them.”
Safire froze. Had she heard that correctly?
“Executed?” She breathed the word. “Without a trial?”
The empress didn’t turn as she said, “They’re pirates, Safire. They don’t get trials.”
Twenty-Six
Two Lumina soldiers escorted Safire back to her rooms. The whole way there, the empress’s last words rang through her mind.
Executing pirates wasn’t a choice Safire would have made. But as she thought of the hungry rage in Kor’s eyes when he looked at Eris, she shivered. Could she really blame the empress for not giving him a trial? After she herself had given Jarek no trial before she put a knife through his heart?
Still, she needed to find Dax and tell him—about this, and the dragons, and Asha not being where she should be.
He’ll know what to do.
A note was waiting on her dresser when she arrived, however. Written in Dax’s shaky script, it said he and Roa were visiting the granaries, where their seeds were being packed for the journey home, and they would see her at the banquet this evening—one being held in honor of their newfound alliance.
Safire lowered the note, looking to the window. The mist coming down the mountains hadn’t cloaked the city yet. She could still see the sun’s position in the sky.
It was late afternoon. She wouldn’t need to wait long.
Glancing up into the mirror, Safire found a small horror looking back. Her hair hung down in wind-blown chunks. Deep crevices under her eyes said she hadn’t slept in . . . she couldn’t remember how long. And her clothes were coated in salt and grime.
Safire stared at herself. What must the empress think of me?
She shook off the thought. If she were going to this banquet—and since the banquet seemed her only opportunity to confer with Dax and Roa, she was going—then she desperately needed to wash.
So, after running the bath, she stripped out of her clothes and sank into the hot, soapy water. Setting immediately to work, she rigorously scrubbed the salt and grime from her hair.
Gross. Safire scrunched her nose, soaping her hair as she wondered how Eris could have borne kissing her like this.
The thought brought a rush of embarrassment.
Maybe that’s why she left so quickly.
At the thought of Eris, Safire remembered something the Death Dancer said just before they anchored in Axis’s harbor.
I’ll get no trial.
Safire stopped scrubbing.
She hadn’t believed her at the time. But now, as she thought of Kor and the other dead pirates, she wondered if Eris was right.
If Safire managed to capture her for the empress—as she’d promised to do—would Leandra execute Eris as easily as she’d executed Kor?