The throng cheered. Mari wondered how many of them applauded because they believed her father's rhetoric or whether they, like she, clapped because it was the safest course of action. It was not hard to read the condemnation on the faces of the emissaries from the Iron League nations. Qoro-asthra, the spectral amba.s.sador from Mediin with his Wraith Knight guards, looked startled at Corajidin's speech. His phantom's face swirled, like smoke in the wind, at Corajidin's reference to Qoro-asthra's Mahj being an insane heretic.

Mari looked across at her father walking among the crowd, surrounded by sycophants. Corajidin smiled at her. She swallowed against the sharp fear that her father might have to die for Shran to know peace.

"You look beautiful, Mari! Enjoying yourself?" Yasha sidled closer. Though Mari disliked Yasha, she had to admit the woman was suited for such occasions. She looked transcendent in sheer layers of silk, red and black to match her mate. Or like some type of venomous snake, Mari thought. She suppressed a chuckle. There was little Yasha liked to do more than spread her venom, or shed her skin...

"I've not been a guest at one of these functions for years." Mari gestured at the Anlki with her gold wine bowl. "Like them, I was sworn to service."

"And you still are, Mari!" Yasha reminded her. The people near Corajidin laughed at some witticism or other. Her gaze settled with avarice on her husband. "Enjoy it. Your life hadn't begun until now." Yasha shone a white smile on Mari, then floated forward on elegant feet, head high.

People Mari barely knew approached her to talk about her father. Clearly the stigma a.s.sociated with Vashne's a.s.sa.s.sination had faded with Corajidin's ascension. Of Ariskander's disappearance, there was no mention. Where Mari expected to be shunned, she was embraced. A cavalcade of faces, flushed with drink, nerves, or the summer heat, flashed past. She nodded politely. Laughed when others laughed. Offered her opinion when a lull in the conversation demanded she do so, yet to answer Yasha's question, no, she was not enjoying herself overly much.

"You look different, girl," Femensetri said quietly from behind her. Mari turned to glance at the ancient scholar. Femensetri had made no effort of any kind for Corajidin's gala. Her oft-repaired ca.s.sock had ceased being elegant centuries ago. Her sickle-topped crook gleamed with the blue-green of witchfire.

"What news?" Mari asked.

"We'll get her out of Amnon," Femensetri replied. "Some of the Feya.s.sin stayed against Corajidin's orders to help us."

Mari's hearts skipped their beat. "How many is some?"

"Oh." Femensetri stuck her finger in her ear. She inspected what came out, then flicked it on the floor. A pampered local gave her a look of disapproval, to which Femensetri raised a challenging eyebrow.

"How many is-"

"I heard you," the Scholar Master muttered. "How many is some? About, oh, all of them."

"Oh, dear sweet sugary Ancestors!" Mari cursed, then remembered where she was. To her great relief n.o.body seemed to have heard her. "My father will notice-"

"Nothing. He'd never think the Feya.s.sin would disobey him." Femensetri s.n.a.t.c.hed a bowl and a bottle of wine from a bound-caste servant as he pa.s.sed. She pulled the cork free with her teeth and sloshed a good measure of the expensive vintage into her bowl. "Vahineh appreciated your honesty in telling her about your involvement in her father's death, by the way."

Mari took a deep breath. "What does she intend?"

"How should I know?" Femensetri snorted. "The girl has much to consider. Besides, it's Daniush you should worry about. Vahineh asked me to thank you for her rescue, should I get the chance. Doesn't mean she won't try to have you killed, though at least she's being civil about the whole thing. But you weren't asking whether there was any word about her, were you? You're more concerned about him."

"Indris might well hold all our hopes in his hands." She felt her face flush. Femensetri eyed her, unconvinced.

"You barely know him, girl!" Femensetri took a deep draft of her wine. "I was his teacher and still only know what he's shown me. How can you compete with the ideals of his memories?"

"What do you mean?"

Femensetri did not answer; rather, she gestured for Mari to follow her through the crowd toward the Memorial Stones. Femensetri rested her hand against one of the dark obelisks, her expression sour. Beneath her hand was a name, dated a couple of years ago. Anj-el-din.

"Indris was a d.a.m.ned fool to think it would end any differently than it did."

Mari smiled as Ziaire approached them, along with Kembe of the Tau-se. The courtesan was a vision in layers of cream-and-white damask. She wore her dark hair piled high, with a single pearl drop in each ear to denote her calling. The ma.s.sive Tau-se looked more primal in his deerskin jerkin and kilt, his mane braided with fortune coins, precious stones, and lengths of white cord.

"Who was Anj-el-din?" the Tau-se asked before Mari had the chance.

Ziaire raised a white-nailed hand and gently traced the name burned into the stone. "Anj-el-din was Indris's wife and Far-ad-din's daughter."

"The 'Lay of Anj-el-din' brings tears to the eyes of young virgins everywhere," Femensetri said drily.

Ziaire sang a verse from the song softly, her voice as beautiful as the rest of her.

Looking to the sunset sky, she finds herself alone again, and wonders where her love has gone.

Her lonely voice calls his name, it calls across the Marble Sea.

Asks who we are and who we seem, how fickle fortune's whim can be.

"She's the reason Indris felt compelled to remain in Amnon and to help Far-ad-din," Femensetri said to Mari. "And the reason why he can't stand to stay. He carries around so much guilt. Indris's mother died here, too. a.s.sa.s.sinated. So, whatever you think is happening between you two..."

Mari swallowed convulsively. She knew the story of the song, how Anj-el-din had waited years for her lover to return home. She had eventually gone looking for him, never to return. In the song, her lover spent years searching for her. Supposedly he never gave up, haunted by love. But she had never known the song was about Indris. The air in the room felt suddenly too close, making it harder for her to breathe.

"Come with me," Femensetri ordered the others.

Mari quickly looked for her father and Yasha, but could see no sign of them. Not surprising given the hundreds of people who attended the festival. There were Anlki nearby, though their attentions were focused more on the people they did not know than the ones they did. Mari doubted she would be missed and joined the Stormbringer, Ziaire, and Kembe as they left the Lotus House. Femensetri grabbed another bottle of wine. Contrary to her habit, Mari allowed the other woman to fill her bowl.

They walked down the hill a way, where Femensetri caught Roshana by the arm. The small group sat on the warm gra.s.s, the wind perfumed by a pending storm. The last rays of the setting sun bled slowly from the sky, streaking the iron clouds over the Marble Sea with rust. Lightning flared over the hammered, blood-hued sheet of the water. Mari remembered the lyrics Ziaire had sung. She, too, found herself alone, wondering where the man she thought she might love was.

Darkness settled in all its anonymous comfort. The stars opened their eyes in the firmament, winked down at them with a cheer the insignificant affairs of a could do little to ruin. The Humans told tales of how their Ancestors had sailed among the stars, until they had arrived on a millennia ago. Tonight her father had all but kicked in the teeth the descendants of those who had dared such a journey. The Humans might be many things, but weak, helpless, and craven were not counted among them. They would hear his words as a challenge. The question was, would they answer? It would not be the first time if they did.

"It seems as if your father has committed Shran to his new vision, whether the rest of us would have it or not," Kembe offered in his purring voice. "You know the emissaries from the Iron League have decided to withdraw, pending the next a.s.sembly?"

"What do you think they'll do?" Ziaire asked. "My contacts in the Iron League nations all speak of heightened military activity since Corajidin took power."

"The same news comes from Ygran. But for the Iron League to attack Shran, they'd need to fight wars on two fronts. I can't see them abandoning almost twenty years of effort in trying to conquer Tanis. What are the Tau-se going to do?" Femensetri asked.

"We will honor our ancient oaths of friendship to Shran...provided it is to a leader we respect." Kembe plucked a blue flower from the long gra.s.s. He sniffed at it, eyes half-closed. "Though if the Iron League attacks, Corajidin might have doomed the Taumarq, too."

"If they come across the Marble Sea, Narsis would be a prime target," Roshana mused. "We need more time to-"

"Roshana, what time do you think we have?" Femensetri asked bluntly. She stood, unconcerned with the gra.s.s that clung to her ca.s.sock. "We've no time. Never had any, not from the moment Vashne died and Ariskander disappeared. We need to act now, in case Indris fails."

"Do you really think he will?" Ziaire asked plaintively.

"I'm brilliant at what I do." Femensetri peered out over the sea, her expression wistful. "As is my brother, Kemenchromis. I don't say this as an idle boast, merely to give you context. We were witches before we were scholars and the things we did...Though I'd never tell him, believe me when I say Indris is to me as I am to the students whose heads I try to cram with wisdom. He doesn't know it yet, but the time will come when he realizes he follows in the footsteps of the greatest of the mahjirahn. But n.o.body is infallible, and we should plan against the worst."

"What do you propose?" Mari asked. "I'll not have my father harmed."

"We could expose his illness and make the others aware of its implications. If Corajidin can't master his Awakening, our law says he can't be rahn. Then the Teshri would have no choice but to depose him as the governor of Amnon, Asrahn-Elect, and the Rahn-Erebus."

"He'd go to significant lengths to oppose us," Ziaire replied. "He all but owns the Teshri."

"You're talking about more than civil disobedience," Mari breathed. "This is rebellion against a head of state! What if Nazarafine denounces you? What about all the yamir of the Hundred Families, sworn to my father's cause? Femensetri, are you insane?"

Femensetri leaned on her crook. "Why? What've you heard?"

"Mari's right," Roshana murmured. She lay back in the gra.s.s, her forearms over her eyes. "We've suffered enough without plunging the nation into civil war. Knight-Marshal Kadarin fe Na.r.s.eh is still our most seasoned commander, as well as a rahn in her own right and an Imperialist. I'd not want to face her on the battlefield. Besides, you heard the response in there! It seems as if a lot of people want to invest in Corajidin's future."

"Only because they see him as a means to an end," Femensetri disagreed. "If they had an option, I think you'd find there are many who'd leave Corajidin's...o...b..t as quickly as they entered it. He's merely the vessel they poured their hopes into."

"Whatever we do needs to be done quietly," Kembe rumbled.

"And discreetly," Ziaire added.

"Then allow me to be your vehicle." Roshana pushed herself up to lean on her elbows. Her expression was haunted, eyes narrow.

"How?" Femensetri asked, though from the smile on her face Mari suspected the Stormbringer knew what Roshana was going to offer.

"We need legal, quiet, and discreet." Roshana grimaced. She turned to face Mari, her expression rueful. "There is only one option as I see it. I must declare a Jahirojin against the Great House of Erebus."

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR.

"With every act of vengeance we murder part of ourselves."-from the Nilvedic Maxims Day 324 of the 495th Year of the Shranese Federation "In the name of all the hallowed dead..." Corajidin sighed his exhaustion. Yashamin drew his arms closer around her shoulders. The ceremony to start the Festival of the Ancestors was over, yet people still hounded him. At first they had been congratulatory, then the well-wishers had filtered away to be replaced by those with agendas of their own. A favor, for past services barely remembered. A boon, in the hope they could reap his good graces in the future. Opinions, impressions, suggestions, comparisons, all became blurred in a fug of lotus milk to numb the pain.

Worry gnawed at him. Wolfram and Brede had completed their preparations for the Spirit Casque. It was only three hours till dawn, and Corajidin planned to be en route by the time the sun came up. The ruins were a couple of hours away by wind-skiff. Corajidin would have preferred somewhere more convenient, but they could ill afford for either Ariskander or Daniush to escape or be discovered.

If Wolfram was right, if Farenhara had been found, then Fenlings were no longer necessary. An army of Erebus veterans, bolstered by the Kadarin's heavy infantry and companies of nahdi, were camped on the borders of the Rmarq. Their blood was still high from their recent victory over the Seethe. If the Time Master city contained the weapons and knowledge Wolfram expected, Corajidin would wipe out the Fenlings to their last disgusting pup to ensure the bounty was his. Corajidin doubted there was a monarch on a who would care if the feral rat-folk were exterminated. As far as he was concerned, he was doing his fellow leaders a favor. Of course, the Iron League would protest Shran having such weapons. By then, it would be too late for them to do anything about it.

"Rahn-Corajidin." Roshana gave the barest of nods. She looked impeccable in her blue-and-gold coat, a phoenix embroidered on each sleeve. She smiled thinly at Yashamin. "Rahn-Yashamin. You look as beautiful as ever this evening. Thank you both for being such gracious hosts. No doubt people will talk about your speech tonight for some time to come."

Corajidin shot Roshana a withering look. "What do you want, Roshana? I have suffered weaklings and fools enough this evening."

"Ahh." Roshana lifted her chin defiantly. "Then I've news to make you happy, Rahn-Corajidin-"

"Asrahn-Elect," Corajidin corrected her. "I am your Asrahn-Elect."

The Nasarat heir's lips quirked in a contemptuous smile. Arrogant sow!

"As you like. I've been in discussions with my peers, as well as those whose opinion I value. Though you've endeavored to maintain a semblance of peace in Amnon, it seems the faction fighting has doubled in its intensity. Civilians are being persecuted-"

"I am aware it is difficult to maintain the law in a place such as this," Corajidin replied, his weariness and the numbness of his limbs a shroud over diplomacy. What did he care what any Nasarat had to say? "I am expecting you have a point, somewhere in your ramblings?"

"Perhaps if your bravos didn't use such..." Roshana took a deep breath to calm herself. Corajidin smiled inwardly. "I gave orders earlier this evening for those sayfs of the Hundred Families loyal to the Great House of Nasarat to prepare to leave Amnon-"

"You did what?" Yashamin asked in surprise.

"Along with the companies of the Nasarat's Phoenix Army," she finished. "I believe that by removing the temptation of old feuds to fire the violence, Amnon will settle much more rapidly. Besides, there's no need for our soldiers to be marshaled here any longer. After all, the Great House of Erebus has taken on the responsibility of government here. My personal guard will remain, as will the Lion Guard, to ensure we can continue a more thorough search for my father."

"I think not," Corajidin growled. "You can go, if you wish. Leave your Knight-General Maselane here to command the armies in your place. He is an outstanding general. The Nasarat forces stay where they are."

"No, they don't." Roshana stood firm. "You've no legal, or moral, authority over me. You're nothing but a caretaker, walking in a better man's boots. Even were you Asrahn, which is something I'll vehemently oppose, you could only ask me to fight rather than order me to. We Nasarats have honored our agreement with the Teshri. Now we're leaving. We'll have no part in whatever it is you're doing now."

"Watch your tone, woman! I should have expected such a lack of vision from a Nasarat." Corajidin's face heated. This was all Nehrun's fault! Like a craven he had fled at the first sign of danger, to hide behind the musty robes of the Sq at the Shrine of the Vanities. Who had hammered a conscience into the weakling? "You will do as you are ordered, do you understand me? If not, I will-"

"Do nothing, you pompous old dog," Roshana snarled. Corajidin felt as if he had been slapped in the face. The Nasarat princess stepped in, her face so close to Corajidin's he could smell the faint scent of lime and peppermint on her hair. "I'm not Nehrun. I didn't cast my lot with you. You've made your last threat, your last demand, of my House. The price for your future is too high. You'd bring war to our doorstep, you vain little man."

"It will happen, whether you would be part of it or not. I will not shed a single tear when the Great House of Nasarat is broken. You will be lucky to remain as one of the Hundred, if I have my way."

"You may find all that harder than you imagine. My younger brother, Tajaddin, is stronger and wiser than me. He would rain down b.l.o.o.d.y mayhem on you if the need arose. Besides, you forget who my cousin is and just what he can do," Roshana said by way of farewell. Corajidin watched in outrage as Roshana turned on her heel and walked away into the crowd, pausing briefly to share words with Femensetri. The two women looked askance at Corajidin, expressions stern.

He was about to order the Anlki to arrest the woman, when he caught sight of Belamandris, grimed and troubled looking, as he walked through the door.

It took Corajidin a moment to recognize Thufan where he lay on blood-soiled sheets in the villa they had commandeered. Were it not for the hook hand, he may well have a.s.sumed the pitiful wreck on the bed was somebody else entirely. Wolfram had done what he could to treat the man's wounds, though it seemed precious little.

Never a handsome man, now Thufan was missing his right eye, cheek, and part of his jaw. The skin remained, a st.i.tched sack devoid of form, sunken over the great hollows where bone had once been. His left cheek boasted a large hole, the skin likewise st.i.tched together. Breath burbled wetly in his throat, terrible to hear.

As he looked down at his friend's body, Corajidin wanted to put his head in his hands and weep. His anger at Thufan's betrayal ebbed away, replaced by sorrow.

"How?" he asked stiffly.

Belamandris described how they had been attacked in the Rmarq while in the company of the Fenlings. A Tau-se and another man had shot at them from cover. Many of their Fenling escort had been killed. The two a.s.sailants had s.n.a.t.c.hed the Spirit Casque and fled. The remaining Fenlings had gone mad with rage. Belamandris and Thufan had had no choice other than to go with them while they chased their attackers.

"We saw somebody sprinting through the marshes," Belamandris said tiredly. He sat heavy limbed in his chair, without any of his customary grace. His face was stricken. Bruises replaced the kohl he usually wore; the skin was marred with shallow cuts. "He had the Spirit Casque with him. We left the cover of the trees to run him down and were ambushed by storm-rifle fire and arrows. Once their leader was killed, the other Fenlings lost what little control they had left. We were charging when Thufan was shot in the head. We still gave chase, but the Fenlings ran into some kind of trap. It was an explosion of lightning and thunder. Their bodies...the way their limbs...I-"

"Who?" Corajidin snapped. "Who would dare this?"

"It could've just as easily been me." Belamandris chewed his lip, then looked to the mess that was Thufan. "I saw the rifle pointed at me, then it-"

"Who did this?" Corajidin shouted at his son.

"Dragon-Eyed Indris."

Something snapped inside. Corajidin bellowed, his fists clenched against his temples. His body trembled. He grabbed an antique vase and hurled it with all his might against the wall. Hand-painted porcelain flew everywhere. Unsatisfied, he picked up the small table the vase had once stood on, then hurled it through the tall windows. Gla.s.s exploded outward, along with the table. Corajidin heard it crash, then break into pieces, on the paved courtyard below.

The Nasarats! For millennia the Great House of Nasarat had spat on his Ancestors! Had taken from them. Betrayed them. Mocked them with their self-indulgent n.o.bility! When had they ever truly suffered for their country or their people? Never! When it came time to sacrifice, it was an Erebus who was there to pay the price in blood.

Indris. Indris the exile. Indris who should have been killed alongside his treacherous, Nomad-sympathizing mother decades ago! Corajidin rued the night he had not murdered Indris along with his mother. The mistakes of the past had come home to roost.

Corajidin breathed deeply to regain a modic.u.m of control. "The Spirit Casque? You say they escaped with it?"

"No, Father." Belamandris looked his father in the eye with weary pride. "We caught up with he who had it. He'd gotten caught in the traps set by the Fenlings to protect our interests. It was some scarecrow of a Wraith Knight. I took the Spirit Casque, then took Thufan to our camp in the marshes. They had a small wind-skiff that fell apart about me as I brought Thufan here. Father, I did what I could to..."

"I know." Perhaps all was not lost. Ariskander's doom was still only hours away. A thought occurred to him. "What did you do with the Wraith Knight?"

Belamandris reached into a bag at his feet. He produced an amber-and-jade jar, the size of a large apple. It shone as if the sun burned inside, beams of blue-green and golden light cascading from it. "This I brought for you. The body I burned to the ground."