clean and dry. The slippers were hopeless and she wore her own, wincing as they pinched the fluid-filled blister on her right foot.
The guard led her down a long corridor. Mostly other living quarters, she guessed, perhaps guest rooms; the floor was quiet, and she felt no one else nearby. The third-story windows looked over rain-soaked grounds and gardens, the rooftops of Lioncourt blurry beyond the Khas’s walls.
The guard waited outside Asheris’s suite as the mage led her into his sitting room. Light filled the northeastern windows, cool and gray. The air smelled of food, but also of disuse, and dustcloths draped some of the furniture.
“Excuse the mess,” he said as he waved her toward a chair and poured coffee. “I hadn’t planned to return so soon. How are you feeling?” Plates covered a low table, bread and hummus, honeyed nutcakes, sliced boiled eggs, and cold poultry with fruit preserves. She usually had little appetite so early, but her mouth began to water at the sight of food.
“Well enough, considering.” Brocade rustled as she sat, and she nearly sighed as her weight left her feet. Nothing like weeping blisters to slow an escape attempt. She accepted a cup of coffee, inhaling the rich, bitter steam happily; Assar taxed the beans heavily and the drink was rare and costly in the north. “How is the city?”
He frowned, dipping a slice of bread into the hummus. “The structural damage isn’t too bad-a few canal walls fractured, but nothing sinking. So far we’ve found eighteen dead in the canals, drowned or killed by nakh. More are still missing.”
Isyllt took a bite of pastry, honey melting across her tongue. Yesterday’s breakfast seemed years past. “Do you think the people responsible are the ones who murdered Vasilios?” She cocked an eyebrow. “Or do you think I killed him?”
“I don’t,” he said after a moment’s pause. “But someone wants me to think you did. The simplest of spells will link the scarf that killed him to a gown in your luggage.” He sipped his coffee. “Do you know why anyone would want to implicate you?”
She met his eyes over the rim of her cup. “A foreigner-a necromancer, no less-who’s already been seen snooping around? I imagine it was too much to pass up. I’m told the natives aren’t fond of my sort of magic.”
“No.” He glanced toward her ring. “It’s quite anathema.” She finished the last bite of pastry and he pressed a saucer of eggs and meat on her.
“But why kill Vasilios at all?” she asked, salting the eggs.
“That I don’t know. And that’s why I’d prefer you stay here until I find out. What do you think has happened to your bodyguard?”
She swallowed carefully. “I don’t know. I hope he’s not one of those missing in the canals. But he is a mercenary-perhaps he decided I’m not worth the trouble. How long should I plan on staying here?”
“We’ll make every effort to find those responsible. Of course, if you’d prefer to leave immediately, I could find you passage on an Imperial ship…”
“You’re too kind. But no, I’d rather stay and learn who’s responsible. My master wouldn’t wish me to leave with an old friend’s death unsolved.”
“Of course. You may explore the grounds as you wish-the guards can direct you. The gardens are quite lovely-” Even as he spoke, the light dimmed and grayed and rain rattled the leaves. Asheris glanced at the fat raindrops rolling down the windowpane and sighed. “But perhaps not this morning. We’re having a ball tonight, however, safely indoors. I’d be delighted if you would attend.”
“A ball? After what happened?”
He shrugged. “The Khas always holds one to celebrate the rains. I imagine it will be more subdued than usual this year. Will you come?”
“If my luggage arrives.” She tugged at one too-short sleeve. “I’m not very presentable like this.”
“I’m sure we can find you something.”
The pigs were a long time in dying.
Of all the sounds of Sivahra, that was one Xinai hadn’t missed. She lay curled on the floor of a hunter’s blind, trying to concentrate on the snores of her companions and the rain on the roof, while pigs died shrieking in the valley below.
Cay Xian had emptied overnight; elders and children and women too pregnant to fight slipped away to neighboring towns, while warriors scattered into the forest. By now the village stood empty as Cay Lin.
Selei slept beside her, snoring softly, and Riuh drowsed on the far side of the room. He hadn’t spoken about last night, thank all the small gods. Shaiyung hadn’t spoken of it either, hadn’t spoken at all, though Xinai occasionally felt the cool draft of her presence.
Bad enough trying to keep your living mother from meddling in relationships, let alone a ghost.
A birdcall sounded in the trees outside, was answered a moment later. No real birds, but Xian warriors keeping watch.
One high squealing shriek faded and another began. Xinai winced and tugged her blanket tighter around her shoulders. As a child, she’d wondered if men screamed like that as they died. Funny how inured she’d become to the sounds of a battlefield, but animals being slaughtered could still upset her so.
As the sky paled to a gray ceiling behind the lattice of leaves, Xinai gave up on sleep. She slipped outside to relieve herself, and when she returned Selei was awake and folding their blankets.
“What’s the plan?” Xinai asked.
“I’m going to talk to the village. We need food and supplies, safe houses. But I have another task for you two.” She gestured them closer, tsking when she looked at Xinai. “I hoped you’d at least get a good night’s sleep before I sent you off.”
Xinai and Riuh sat beside Selei, their knees not quite touching, both carefully not looking at each other.
“We thought people were disappearing in the ruby mines,” Selei said, “that the Khas was lying about accidents and deaths. It’s worse than that.” She pulled a pouch from her pocket, unwrapped it carefully. A stone lay on the cloth, rough and pale. It glittered in the light, color sparking in its heart.
“What is it?” Riuh asked.
“A diamond. They’re mining diamonds somewhere in Sivahra, using our people to harvest their soul- stones.”
Xinai reached out a hand, pulled it back again. “Where?”
“We don’t know. They’ve kept the secret well. We might never have known, but we found this stone in a raid on a government warehouse.”
“Part of the tithe?”
“I don’t think so. They were stored with the flawed stones, the ones the Khas sells. I don’t know what game al Ghassan is playing, but I mean to find out.”
“What do you want us to do?” Xinai asked.
“Find the mine. From the routes we’ve seen the soldiers take, we guess it’s somewhere to the west, between the mountain and the mines. I’ve charmed this stone as best I can to seek out others of its kind. Just be careful it doesn’t lead you straight to a Kurun Tam mage.” She wrapped the diamond again and handed the pouch to Xinai, who slipped it carefully around her neck. It hung quiet among her other charms.
Selei’s joints creaked as she rose and Riuh steadied her. “You need a proper bed,” he said.
She snorted. “In what house? The jungle is the safest place we have now.”
Xinai hesitated, but Riuh was right-the old woman looked exhausted and moved stiffly. “You could use Cay Lin.” She waited for Shaiyung to offer protest, but none came. “It has walls, if nothing else,” she went on. “Even a few roofs.”
Riuh made a warding gesture. “But the ghosts-”
“I’m not afraid of ghosts,” Selei said. “But the Khas soldiers are, and everyone knows the ruins are haunted. A good idea.”
Xinai tried to ignore the warm rush of pride. It was sacrilege, but she doubted any of the Lin ancestors would begrudge their allies a little succor.
They rolled the blankets into their packs, took rations of salt pork, cassava root, and fruit leather from the blind’s stores, and descended the hill to the village. Xao Par Khan, Selei had named it, one of the dozens of tiny communities that dotted the forest, away from clan-seats. The Khans, like the Lhuns, had lost lands to the Empire, but had never been slaughtered wholesale like the Lins and Yeohs.
