A Magic of Twilight

As the Kraljica nodded and smiled and waved to the well-wishers among the ca’-and-cu’ who gathered around her, Dhosti leaned closer to the commandant. “The Kraljica doesn’t look well to me, Sergei. Just these last several days. .”

“I share your concern, Archigos. Renard’s talked to her attendants and nurses; they all say the same.” The commandant’s forehead creased above the hawk’s mask. He didn’t look at the Archigos, but at the crowd of the elite pressing around the Kraljica and Ana. “At her age, one never knows, but this sudden decline. . I’ve wondered about the possibility of poison.”

“Is that possible?”

A shrug. “I don’t know yet. But I will.” The commandant almost smiled at that, an expression that caused Dhosti to shiver as if snow were blowing down his bent spine. “Renard tried to convince her not to come down tonight, to let the A’Kralj represent her, but she refused.”

“That, at least, hasn’t changed,” Dhosti said. He saw A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca moving toward the Kraljica with his daughter and marriage-son in tow. Behind them, the trumpets blew their fanfare

again, and all turned to the stairs to see the A’Kralj make his entrance.

Following his matarh’s lead, he was dressed as a mythological figure from the Toustour: Misfal, the first of the Moitidi breathed into existence by Cenzi. The A’Kralj’s costume was chosen perfectly for his athletic figure: dark, close-fitting leather trousers and vest, a shirt painted with marbled veins, his mirrored mask gleaming and studded with polished stones, and a floor-length cape that, like the Kraljica’s clothing, was alive with silver-and-blue color, as if a waterfall were cascading from him. As he stood there, he rose slowly into the air as white clouds fumed from the floor below him before rolling heavily down the stairs.

The A’Kralj remained suspended, his hands lifted as if in benediction, before he descended slowly to the floor once more.

The applause that greeted his performance was enthusiastic, if carefully less long in duration than that which had greeted the Kraljica.

As the A’Kralj descended the stairs, the Kraljica, as was customary, came forward to greet him, still supporting herself on Ana’s arm. The A’Kralj, at the bottom of the steps, bowed and gave the sign of Cenzi to Dhosti, who returned the gesture, then Dhosti watched the Kraljica grasp her son’s hand, and place his other hand on Ana’s. Her voice was too faint for him to hear as she inclined toward her son, but he assumed that she was introducing Ana to the A’Kralj, and that made Dhosti suspect that the Kraljica’s insistence that Ana help her wasn’t entirely an accident. He wasn’t certain how he felt about that; he knew it certainly wouldn’t please his niece Safina, who had often been mentioned as a possible match for Justi. Safina, though, had already shown that she had not inherited Dhosti’s skill with the Ilmodo; he doubted that Safina would ever rise above her current status as e’teni, and that made her less than a good fit for the A’Kralj.

Justi nodded to his matarh, smiled his polished and perfect smile, and moved away, slicing through the throngs directly toward A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca and his daughter and son-in law, and there he entered into an animated discussion.

“The A’Kralj keeps his own counsel,” Sergei said alongside Dhosti.

“And his own affairs.” Sergei pointed his chin toward Francesca, whose hand lightly drifted down the A’Kralj’s arm. It was the intimacy of the gesture that caught Dhosti’s attention; he noticed that it also caught the attention of Estraven, whose face darkened and scowled above the hem of his costume dress.

“Truly?” Dhosti whispered to Sergei.

The commandant nodded.

“Does the Kraljica know?”

“I think she suspects. But not through me.”

“I thought that was part of your job, to give the Kraljica the information she needs.”

The commandant smiled. “It’s my job to know as much as possible about everything that happens here in the city, Archigos. And it’s my job to give the Kraljica information that requires her action or that would affect her adversely. I know far more than I tell the Kraljica,” he said, and his eyes locked on Dhosti’s. “Far more. But I keep it to myself until the proper time. Or I tell others, who may know better than I when the proper time might be. I trust you take my meaning.”

Dhosti nodded. “I will bear that in mind,” he said.

“I’m sure you will,” Sergei answered. “Especially if the Kraljica or you has a thought toward marrying the church to the state.”

Justi ca’Mazzak

It was the applause that seemed to lift him up, rather than the chants of the teni hidden behind him. The acclaim of the ca’-and- cu’ drowned out their chanting, and he closed his eyes as he spread his hands wide. He stood on warm air, suspended in the ovation. Too soon, though, he was standing on the stairway’s landing once again, and he walked slowly down the stairs toward the crowds.

Very soon, when he came to the ca’-and-cu’ it would be as Kraljiki, and the applause and the attention would be his alone. He would not have to share it with his matarh.

But for the moment he had to smile, had to bow to the dwarf who, without realizing it, was likely in his last days as Archigos; had to reach for Matarh’s hand in supplication: smiling, always smiling, even as he glanced quizzically at the young man-no, it was a young woman, he decided suddenly-who was on the arm of the Kraljica.

The woman was supporting his matarh, he realized suddenly. He almost smiled.

His matarh took his hand in hers. It was cold and trembling, that hand, with skin spotted and wrinkled. She reached for his other hand and placed it over the young woman’s. “Justi,” she said. “This is O’Teni Ana cu’Seranta. . you know, the one who saved the Archigos from the Numetodo assassin.” Her voice quavered, and was so weak he could barely hear it. She looked decidedly old tonight. She looked ill.

“So this is the one I’ve heard so much about,” Justi said. “It’s a delight to meet you, O’Teni.”

She couldn’t give him the full curtsy that etiquette demanded while on the Kraljica’s arm, but she bowed her head, muttering more to the floor than to him. “Thank you, A’Kralj,” she answered. “Your costume. . was quite impressive.”

He nodded quickly, ignoring the nicety. “Matarh, should you be out here? If you’d like to retire, I’d be happy to. .”

“No.” For a moment, her voice had its honed edge and imperiousness. “I’m fine. I am thinking, Justi, that you and O’Teni Ana should dance later.”

“I’m certain we can find the time for that, Matarh,” he answered. So is this the one you’ve chosen, Matarh? he wanted to ask. You could at least have chosen someone less plain. “But if you’ll excuse me for the moment. .”

His matarh’s eyes widened at his brusqueness, but he strode quickly away before she could gather herself to comment. He’d glimpsed Francesca through the crowd, standing next to her vatarh, and he moved toward her. “A’Teni ca’Cellibrecca,” he said, accepting the older man’s bow. “It’s good to see you again, and I must say that the simplicity of your costume is refreshing.” He gestured at his own costume ruefully. “I feel a bit too. . conspicuous.”

“The A’Kralj is always conspicuous,” ca’Cellibrecca answered, “as he should be. And it will be more so in the future.” He stopped, glancing pointedly in the direction of the Kraljica and the Archigos. “You already know my daughter, and her husband. .”

“Yes, of course. Vajica, U’Teni, how are the two of you this evening?” He could not quite keep the amusement from his face at the sight of Francesca’s husband, whose already-rouged cheeks flared even more over the edge of the ridiculous costume he wore-that he knew Francesca had chosen for Estraven; she’d laughed about it the last time she and Justi were together. Justi wondered how much the man knew or suspected-not that it mattered. Ca’Cellibrecca had already promised that the marriage would be annulled as soon as he was Archigos, and that U’Teni Estraven would be placated with another wife-Allesandra, the daughter of the Hirzg of Firenzcia, had been mentioned. Justi took Francesca’s hand. “You shame the other women here, Vajica,” he said to her. “They