"What are you talking about?"

"The Nine says that you have a week to take back your threats against them, and to give you a hint of what kind of a war you'd be starting, they've arranged for a small diplomatic disaster this morning. They ask that you keep in mind that future disasters need neither be small-nor diplomatic."

Ice shot down Terah's spine. They'd arranged a disaster already? Before she'd even threatened them? "How did you know?" she asked.

"We know everything," Scarred Wrable said.

"Your Majesty!" a servant came running into the statue garden. "The amba.s.sadors from the Chantry and the Lae'knaught were both brought to your breakfast, as ordered. The stewards tried to seat both of them in the place of honor. They're furious."

"I didn't invite-" Terah turned to snarl at Scarred Wrable, but the man was gone.

33

Solon," Kaede asked, standing in the darkness outside his cell, "why does my mother hate you?"

Solon sat up, brushing filthy straw from his hair. "What has she done?" It was early morning and chilly, and Kaede wore a purple samite wrap over her shoulders. Solon was relieved he wouldn't have to spend the interview trying not to gape at her breast like a mainlander-relieved and disappointed.

"Do you know why or not?" Kaede demanded. The steel in her voice reminded him of his visions when Khali came to Screaming Winds, trying to tempt him to his death. He'd known those visions were false because Kaede wasn't furious with him. Being right had never felt worse.

Standing, Solon walked to the bars. "It will not be easy to tell or hear."

"Humor me."

Solon closed his eyes. "After I completed my training with the blue mages twelve years ago, I came home, you remember? I was nineteen. I asked my father for permission to seek your hand. He told me your family would never consent."

"My mother never stopped at anything to advance my family. That's why I never understood her hating you. She should have been pushing me to marry a prince." why I never understood her hating you. She should have been pushing me to marry a prince."

Solon lowered his voice. "Your mother feared that you were my sister."

In rapid succession, emotions flitted over Kaede's face: bewilderment, incredulity, understanding, surprise, revulsion, incredulity again.

"Kaede, I don't wish to slander either of our parents. The liaison was brief-only as long as my mother's last ill-fated pregnancy. When she and the baby both died, my father took it to be the G.o.ds' judgment on him. By then your mother was pregnant. Years later when my father noticed my interest in you, he requested a green mage come to tell him whether you were his daughter. In return for determining your patrimony and keeping their silence, I was to take my schooling with the green mages. Neither they nor my father expected me to show any Talent. They merely hoped to have a Sethi prince as a friend. As it turned out, I wasn't that Talented at Healing." Though he had met Dorian there, which had changed his life, and not only in good ways. "Regardless, they told my father that you were definitely not my sister, but your mother never trusted magi. Her fears told her that you looked more like my father than yours."

Kaede's eyes were cool. "How do I know any of this is true?"

"I wouldn't lie about my father. He was a great man. It wounded me when he told me he'd been faithless to my mother. It wounded him, too. He was different after she died. Can you think of anything else that makes sense of your mother's actions? Why don't you ask her?"

"Why didn't you come back?"

Solon's face was haggard. "I was nineteen when I learned. You were barely sixteen. I tried to rea.s.sure your mother that the mages were telling the truth. She thought I was threatening her. You were young and I didn't want to poison you against her by telling you. I had an offer for more training at Sho'cendi, so I took it. I wrote to you every week, and when you never responded, I sent a friend to deliver a letter personally. He was thrown out of your family's estate and told you were betrothed and you never wanted to hear from me again."

"I was never betrothed," Kaede said.

"Which I didn't find out until later. I was going to come home then, but a prophet told me I had two paths before me: 'Storm-riving, storm-riding, by your word-or silence-a brother king lies dead,' if I came home, I would kill my brother; if, on the other hand, I went to Cenaria, I might save the south from Khalidor."

"So did you?" Kaede asked.

"What?"

"Did you save the world?" Her tone had an edge of deep anger.

"No," Solon said. He swallowed. "I hid that I was a mage from a man who was like a brother to me, a man who would have become king. When he found out, he dismissed me. The next day, he was killed by an a.s.sa.s.sin I could have stopped had I been there."

"So you come home like a whipped dog looking for sc.r.a.ps."

Solon gave Kaede a gentle look, seeing pain under her anger. "I came home to make things right. I have no idea what happened here. No Sethi on the mainland will talk about it."

"You took the wrong fork of the prophecy," Kaede said. "You should have killed him."

"What?"

She pulled the samite wrap tight and looked out Solon's window. "Your brother was a horror. He squandered all the goodwill the people felt for your family within a year. His invasion of Ladesh cost us three of our four fleets, and the Ladeshian counterstroke cost us the last of our colonies. He forced my brother Jarris to lead a hopeless attack, and when it failed, he threw him in the dungeon. Where he was strangled. Sijuron claimed Jarris hanged himself. He forced the great families to sponsor week-long parties that they had no way of paying for. He raised taxes on rich and poor alike but gave dispensations to his friends. He built a menagerie that housed over a thousand animals. While people begged at the gates, he ordered silk beds made for his lions, and soon began throwing those who displeased him to those beasts. He liked to train with the military, but would order men killed for not really trying when they sparred with him-or for daring to bruise the imperial flesh when they did try. He took to carrying knuckle bones which he made anyone he encountered roll-the sides ranged from winning a purse of gold to death.

"I came across him one day and he made me roll, though usually the high families were exempt. I won. He made me roll again. I won four more times, until he had no more money. He was furious, so he ordered his retainers to pay me. I realized that he was going to make me roll until I rolled my death. So I challenged him to one last roll: I said let three sides be death, and the other three be marriage. My audacity intrigued him. He said that if I was going to beggar him, I might as well be his wife." Her eyes were cold with hatred. "Sijuron was quite the wit. He only gave me two of the six sides.

"I won. He kept his word and threw a huge wedding party at my family's expense. After he fell asleep, I cut his throat. I walked back to the great hall in my bare feet and my shift, my arms covered in blood to the elbows. The party was still going. It was barely midnight and those parties always had a curious frenzy: everyone knew they might die at the king's least whim. party was still going. It was barely midnight and those parties always had a curious frenzy: everyone knew they might die at the king's least whim.

"Everything stopped when I walked in. I sat in the king's seat and told them what I'd done. They cheered, Solon. Someone pulled his body into the great hall and the gentle n.o.bles of this empire ripped him apart with their bare hands. I've been undoing the damage he inflicted on this kingdom ever since. In nine years, I haven't been able to fix half of what he destroyed in three."

Solon was aghast. "And you never married."

"Never remarried."

"Oh."

"I've been too busy. Besides, they call me the Black Widow, those who hate me. I don't mind. It's good that they fear me. For all that I'm a hundred times the monarch your brother was, I made missteps early and alienated some who might have been friends. I have learned since, but some men will never forgive a slight. My hold on this throne is a daily struggle-one that you could easily upset."

"I have no desire for a crown. I will swear that in front of all the court."

"Then what is it you want, Solon?"

His eyes never wavered. "Just you," he said.

"There is no just me," she snapped. "I am queen, but look at my face and you will see the holes where my clan rings were. Your cheek has never been pierced. Do you think that doesn't matter? If I am queen, what would you be?"

"Is a queen not a woman?"

"Not first."

"Is there any room beneath that crown for love?"

He saw glacial sorrow beneath the regal calm, and then it was gone. "I loved you once, Solon. When you left again, I was devastated. People prayed for your return, hoping you could restrain your brother, or later, hoping you'd replace him. I prayed for your return too, for other reasons. But you never came. I prayed even on the night of my wedding that you would come set things right. I prayed as your brother pulled me to his bed that you would burst through the doors. You didn't." Her voice was low, but cold. "Besides," she said. "I married your brother."

"But you said you-" he stopped, cursing his tactless stupidity.

She closed her eyes. "Afterward," she said. "I meant to get him so drunk that he'd pa.s.s out, but for once he wasn't in the mood to drink, and I-I was too frightened. I waited until it was over and he was asleep. Even after what he'd just done, I was barely able to cut his throat. In his sleep, he looked so much like you."

"I'm so sorry," Solon said.

She slapped him. Hard. "Don't you dare pity me. Don't you dare."

"It's not pity. It's love, Kaede. I hurt you, and I allowed you to be hurt, and I'm sorry."

"In two days, I marry Oshobi Takeda."

"You don't love him."

"Don't be stupid." Of course she didn't.

"Kaede, give me a chance. I'll do anything."

"You can watch the festivities from your cell. Goodbye, Solon."

Terah sat impatiently on the black monstrosity of a throne Garoth Ursuul had built. It had taken her half the morning to soothe the Lae'knaught and Chantry amba.s.sadors. Her attempts to figure out who'd arranged her diplomatic disaster had been futile. Fingers pointed this way and that, and there was no telling who was lying.

Finally, Luc came in, resplendent in his cloth-of-gold Lord General's cloak, calfskin boots, and trim white tunic and breeches. "The rumors are true," he said, kneeling on the top step in front of her throne. "Logan has arrived with fourteen hundred men."

"They didn't lose anyone breaking through the Ceuran army?" Terah asked. The first report merely said that Logan had made it to the gates. Her orders not to open the gates for him had been diverted or ignored. She'd hoped the Ceurans might kill him for her.

Luc looked confused. "They didn't break through. They signed a treaty." Seeing the look on his sister's face, Luc hurried on. "When I demanded to know by what right they'd negotiated a treaty, they said by yours. They were surprised I didn't know."

Terah sagged into the throne. This had the Sa'kage's grubby fingerprints all over it. "What are the details of the treaty?"

"I didn't ask."

"Idiot!"

He swallowed. "There are Ceuran wagons full of rice and grain going to every corner of the city. They're giving the Ceurans' food to our people."

"They let the Ceuran army inside the walls?"

"Just Lantano Garuwashi and the wagons. But the gates are still open. People are going out to the Ceuran camp and celebrating with them."

In minutes, Terah was on a balcony, looking over the city. It was a crisp autumn day, the sun bright but barely warm. Vanden Bridge was aglitter with sunlight reflected off hundreds of men in armor. "Logan's parading through the Warrens?" Terah asked. Why would he do such a thing? Who would feel safe there? through the Warrens?" Terah asked. Why would he do such a thing? Who would feel safe there?

"The Rabbits worship him," Luc said.

The procession filed back to the east side and turned toward the castle. The streets had been crowded when Terah's army had paraded, but as Logan came, the city seemed to have emptied itself. The cheering itself sounded different. It scared the h.e.l.l out of her.

"Summon my advisers," she said. "I need to know everything about this treaty before Garuwashi reaches the castle. Is he my ally, my va.s.sal, or my overlord? G.o.ds forbid, is he my husband? Go, Luc, go!"

34

After applying the appropriate makeup, Kylar secured Retribution to his back, dressed in loose rags so stinking and filthy he was loath to wear them, and donned a satchel full of n.o.bleman's clothes. He reset the door's traps with poisons that would sicken but not kill and then perched on the ladder. It was early morning now and the exit was blind. He'd been waiting a quarter of an hour, attuning himself to the sounds of the street.

He heard the loud clop of a horse's hoof strike his flagstone. That was it. He waited one more second as he drew the ka'kari over his clothing and went invisible. He threw open the flagstone as a wagon pa.s.sed overhead, crawled out, spun on his stomach, dropped the hidden door closed, and flung dust over the clean flagstone. The wagon's back axle caught on Retribution. It spun Kylar back around and dragged him for several feet before he twisted free. The driver cursed and looked back, but saw nothing.

Kylar stood, invisible, and made his way into an alley. He dropped the shadows and examined his rags to see what damage the ka'kari had inflicted on them this time. It wasn't bad, except for a few new holes in the back that might show Retribution. He twisted the satchel to lie across his back, affected a limp, and headed for the Heron's Rest. It was at the crossroads of Sidlin and Vanden, and thus one of the few inns in the city where he could enter in rags and leave in silks without attracting attention.

He hadn't gone two blocks when he saw the ambush. Guild kids were hiding amid the ashes and rubble that clotted the alley. Most of them held rocks, but he caught glimpses of one or two clutching Khalidoran swords, relics, no doubt, of the Nocta Hemata. There was time to turn aside, but Kylar didn't for one reason: he saw Blue. He'd forgotten to hide the money he'd promised her. She might have even lived up to her side of the bargain and moved her crew, though he doubted it. hiding amid the ashes and rubble that clotted the alley. Most of them held rocks, but he caught glimpses of one or two clutching Khalidoran swords, relics, no doubt, of the Nocta Hemata. There was time to turn aside, but Kylar didn't for one reason: he saw Blue. He'd forgotten to hide the money he'd promised her. She might have even lived up to her side of the bargain and moved her crew, though he doubted it.

The biggest kid in the guild was the first to stand up. He was short for sixteen, and gaunt like all of them, though he didn't have the distended belly of malnourishment that some of the littles had. He held a Khalidoran sword and his eyes darted around to the other kids for support. "Give us your coin and that bag and you can go," he said. He licked his lips.

Kylar looked around the circle. Seventeen of them, all scared witless, most of them littles. Blue was squinting at him suspiciously. He grinned at her. "I forgot to give you this," he said, fishing in a pocket for a gold coin. It was far more than he'd promised, but these kids could use it. He tossed it to her.

One of the bigs mistook the move and whipped his rock at Kylar's head. Kylar dodged and the missile nearly brained another big on the other side. That big flung his rock and in a moment, the circle exploded in flying rocks and slashing steel.

With a surge of Talent, Kylar leapt ten feet in the air, flipped, drew Retribution, coated it with the ka'kari. As he landed, he spun in a circle, Silver Bear Falls to Garran's Zephyr, hacking the blades from the hilts of three swords. From Retribution, the ka'kari released a pulse of magic that rushed over Kylar's skin.

What was that?

~Impressive. Look.~ The guild had frozen, and even those bigs who were suddenly holding broken swords were staring at Kylar, not their swords. He glanced at himself and saw that somehow he'd lost his tunic and his skin was shining as if lit from within, as if he were bursting with barely restrained power. I didn't tell you to do that. I didn't tell you to do that.

~You wanted to stop them without killing them, didn't you?~ "I told you it was him," Blue said.

Kylar had an awful feeling of deja vu. They thought he was Durzo. Had the ka'kari put that face on him, too? He was standing as Durzo had stood over a decade ago when Azoth's guild had tried to mug him. But now he was standing on Durzo's side. It looked different from here.

"It's Kylar," Blue whispered.

"Kylar," two kids echoed. The awe in their voices made it clear that they thought they were mugging a legend. Around the circle, rocks rattled to the ground. The circle drew back, the guild caught between flight and curiosity. Only now did the bigs turn wide eyes to their faintly smoking swords, a few absently rubbing limbs or ribs bruised from flying rocks. ground. The circle drew back, the guild caught between flight and curiosity. Only now did the bigs turn wide eyes to their faintly smoking swords, a few absently rubbing limbs or ribs bruised from flying rocks.

"How do you know that name?" Kylar demanded, feeling a sudden shiver of fear.

"I heard Jarl talking at Momma K's once," Blue said. "He said you were his best friend, he said you used to be Black Dragons. And Momma K told us once that the best Black Dragon ever apprenticed with Durzo Blint. I put it together."

Kylar couldn't move. Durzo had said it long ago, the truth always comes out. If these kids knew that Kylar was a wetboy and Durzo's apprentice, there was no telling how long before an enemy knew it. It might have spilled already, or his enemies might never think to ask a bunch of guild rats. There was no way to know.

It wasn't Kylar's fault, but "Kylar" had to disappear. His time was finished. If he ever came back to Cenaria, it would have to be as a different man with a different name and different friends or none. Kylar would have to abandon everything, as Durzo had abandoned everything every ten or twenty years. It was the price of immortality.

"Please, sir," the scared big who'd first confronted him said, licking his lips again. "Apprentice Blue. She's the smartest. She deserves to get out."

"You think this is out?" Kylar snarled. "I'll be dead inside a week!" He pulled the ka'kari to his skin and sent a jolt of blue fire through it. The kids threw up their hands to shield their eyes, and when they looked again, Kylar was gone.