Thankfully, sleep comes for me quickly, and it seems only a moment before golden light pries my eyes open again. Struggling out of the mound of bedding, I squint at the bright sun through the glass windows; now I understand the purpose of the heavy velvet curtains lining the bed.
I had dreamed of lights—not the morning sunlight or the gleam of souls, but the flicker of flames at my back, and dark shadows dancing on the scrim. Though I hadn’t seen him in my dream, I’m fairly sure the king was in the audience. My brother had been there too, hadn’t he? I lie in bed, trying to remember what show we had been performing, when his voice comes again, knocking the shreds of the dream out of my head. “Jetta?”
“Akra?” I sit up, bleary-eyed, and he snorts.
“Are you still sleeping? It’s mid-afternoon!”
“Really?” I glance back through the window. Outside, the sun is at a gentle angle in the sky. “I think it’s still morning here.”
“Here?” I can hear the puzzlement in his voice. “Where are you, exactly?”
I hesitate. “In Aquitan.”
“Aquitan? I thought you were going to get the elixir!”
“I did . . .” Frowning, I paw through the pillows until I find the flask again. It is still warm from my hands. “I have it. But the Keeper’s Book of Knowledge is here too, and it may help us stop Le Trépas.”
“Cam mentioned that,” Akra says slowly. “But he didn’t say anything about the two of you going after it now.”
“It was a last-minute decision,” I say.
“It often is, with you. But it’s probably for the best you’re so far away.”
“Why?” He doesn’t answer immediately, and I’m suddenly very awake. “How are things in Nokhor Khat?”
“There’s good news and bad news,” Akra says cautiously.
“Good news first.”
“Well,” he says slowly. “I’m pretty sure we’re all still alive.”
“That’s the good news?” My mouth goes dry. “What’s the bad news?”
“Raik is still alive too,” Akra replies. “Your blood didn’t work on him.”
I clutch the flask tighter. “So . . . he wasn’t dead when Cam found him during the battle at the temple?”
My brother sighs. “It was dark. There was a fight raging outside. And the scar looks fairly bad,” he adds. I can imagine the bitter smile on his own scarred face. “It would have been an easy mistake to make.”
“But . . .” I shake my head—it makes no sense. “Why would Raik work with Le Trépas willingly?”
“We didn’t exactly get a chance to ask him,” Akra says. “But my guess is for the power he can offer.”
“Power?” An uneasy feeling bubbles up in my stomach—Le Trépas had offered me the same thing. “But Raik is a king.”
“He knows Camreon belongs on the throne,” my brother says with a scoff. “We all know. And there are two ways someone can react when their sibling is more powerful than they are: pride, or envy.”
The uneasiness grows, but I try to laugh it off. “Are you proud of me then, Akra?”
“I was just about to ask you the same question,” he replies, and I laugh again, for real this time. But he doesn’t laugh along. “That isn’t all the bad news.”
My smile falls away as quickly as it came. I look once more to the window, facing east. The city hides the sea, which in turn hides my country. My family. My friends. “What is it, Akra?”
“Leo went after Xavier. We’re going to bring him back,” he adds quickly, but I’m still trying to make sense of the words. “I almost didn’t tell you, but—”
“What do you mean, bring him back?” My heart is pounding. “Where is he?”
“He’s at the dock with the rest of the Aquitans,” Akra says. “But the Prix de Guerre doesn’t leave for two days yet.”
“The Prix de Guerre?” My stomach flips—deportation would be the least of Leo’s worries. “What if Xavier kills him—or Le Trépas finds him first?”
“Believe me, I wish he’d thought of that before running off,” my brother replies, but I’m already scrambling out of bed. Forget the Book of Knowledge, forget the ship. I already have the elixir. I need to wake Theodora and get back to Chakrana.
“I’ll be there by tonight,” I say, wrenching the door open. Then I freeze at the sight of a Chakran woman in the sitting room.
For a moment, I am certain it’s Maman—but how could she have gotten here, to Aquitan? And although this woman is about the same age, she is plumper—well fed—and much more comfortable in an Aquitan gown than Maman would ever be.
The woman stares back at me, a cautious look on her face. Then her eyes flick to the empty room behind me. Had she heard me talking—shouting? I shut the door again quickly as my brother’s voice echoes in my head. “No,” Akra says firmly. “Stay where you are. I don’t want to have to worry about you running off too.”
“Akra—”
“You need to find that book,” he says. “Le Trépas might not have raised the Boy King, but he’s still the one in control. Stopping him is the best way to end all of this.”
“Yes, but—”
“Know your role, Jetta. And let me play mine.”
I grit my teeth—it’s something he always says. But my role isn’t to sit by while Leo is in danger. Still, it’s no use arguing with my brother about it. “If you don’t want me to give you orders, you should give me the same courtesy,” I hiss, but his only response is silence, and I know in an instant that I’ve gone too far.
My fingers curl around the neck of the flask—of course his orders to me are different from mine to him. He had told me once how it felt: the pressure like a hand around his heart, the sensation of the air being pressed from his lungs if he did not leap to
