The Shadow's heir

Laela glanced at Vander, and at Oeka. She was unreadable, and he looked ever so slightly pleased. “Yeah,” she said at last. “I mean, yes. I’ll do it.”

Laela was committed to her dangerous game now, and she prepared to play it all the way to the end. Once she and the Emperor had made their agreement, she went to see the other Northerners and bluntly told them that the alliance was settled and she herself would be getting married in Arenadd’s place.

Most of them looked surprised, and some, Duach in particular, were impressed.

“I don’t believe it,” he said. “How? How did ye talk him into it?”

Laela shrugged. “It didn’t have t’be the King. The Emperor was willin’ to accept an alternative.”

“Why ye, though?” said Duach. “Why not one of us?” Despite the objection, he didn’t sound offended.

Laela fidgeted-now came the tough part. “Er. . well, it’s ’cause. . I’m kind of a. . in the right place.”

Duach put his head on one side. “What place is that, then?”

“The Emperor wanted a Taranisaii,” said Laela. “Any Taranisaii.” That at least was true. “I asked what about me, an’. . well, he said yes.” There. She hadn’t lied.

Duach’s expression cleared, and he cackled. “Hah! Knew it. Yer a real chip off the old block, aren’t ye?”

Laela smiled sadly. “Looks like it.”

“He’s happy with a bastard, then?” Duach asked, quite bluntly.

“So he says.” Laela glared.

“Good!” said Duach. “That’s perfect. When’s the wedding?”

“Tomorrow at noon, but I want you an’ Penllyn t’stay here. I ain’t takin’ a risk.”

“Of course.” Duach smiled knowingly at her. “None of us would, and especially not ye of all people.” He looked serious. “I’ve been unkind to ye, but I know ye well enough to know that nobody’s more loyal to the King than yerself.”

Unexpected shame took hold of her. “Thanks,” she mumbled, and left, unable to make herself stay any longer.

When she got back to her rooms, she found herself greeted by two people. One was Telise, and the other was none other than Inva. She looked tired and worn, and there were bruises showing on her face and arms, but when she saw Laela, she all but ran to her. All her former reserve gone, she just about threw herself down at Laela’s feet and stayed there, pressing her forehead into the ground.

“Inva!” Laela gaped, and then grinned. “C’mon, get up. Nobody kneels to a half-breed!”

Inva got up at once, looking slightly embarrassed, but she still bowed her head. “Thank you,” she said, hands clasped in front of her. “Thank you a hundred times. Xanathus bless you for what you have done.”

“Hey.” Laela reached out and touched her on the shoulder. “It’s all right.”

Telise gasped in horror. Laela ignored her.

Inva looked up, clearly bewildered. “You. . you saved me. I don’t understand. What did I do. .?”

“You were innocent,” said Laela. “I got yeh into trouble, so don’t thank me. I just made up for what I did wrong.”

“But I allowed you to go into danger,” said Inva, looking horrified. “You nearly died, and I did nothing to stop it.”

“Are yeh daft?” Laela exclaimed. “What happened happened in the Temple, an’ you weren’t allowed in-yeh told me so yerself!”

“But it was my responsibility to guide you and make certain that you were well cared for,” said Inva.

“An’ yeh did a great job,” said Laela. “Honestly. I ain’t never been looked after so well. Now stop arguin’. You’re safe again, an’ we’ve got a weddin’ to get ready for.”

Inva hesitated, and then, for the first time since Laela had met her, she smiled. “Of course, my lady. I will be happy to help.”

27

Sun Wedding

On the night before her wedding, Laela went to visit Arenadd one last time.

He was still comatose, still pale and ghastly with sweat, and the bandage wrapped around his chest was still stained with blood. His breathing was so slight she could scarcely see it. He looked like a man on his death-bed. Worse, he looked like a man who was already dead. The grey in his hair looked even more pronounced than before.

Laela reached down to touch his forehead and pulled her hand away. He was burning hot. He’d never felt like that before. She had touched him plenty of times when he was well, and he had always been cold. For him, coldness was a sign of health. . or strength, at least.

She sighed and sank into a chair by his bedside. “What am I gonna do with you?”

The question went far deeper than it seemed. What was she going to do?

Since the incident in the Temple, she had pushed the vision she had had out of her head. There had been too much to do, too many other things to worry about. But now she let herself think it over, reliving it in her head as well as she could.

Had it been real? Had she really seen what she had thought, or was it just a hallucination that had nearly killed her?

But she already knew the truth. The vision had been real; it had to be. With it and her dream, she had now seen Gryphus twice, and both times it had felt completely real. Both times he had told her things she couldn’t possibly have known. And if the dream had been vivid, the vision in the Temple had been twice as real. She could have imagined Bran easily, but she couldn’t have imagined her mother. Not like that, not so perfectly that the woman she saw looked like her.

And the other thing she couldn’t ignore was that she had seen Gryphus at two different times and in two different ways, but that both times he had told her almost exactly the same thing: that she was the Risen Sun, and she had the power to. . to. .

“To kill you,” she whispered, eyes turning to Arenadd, lying there helpless.

She stared at him, watching his chest rise and fall ever so slightly, and tried to make herself accept what she knew must be the truth: that he had killed her mother and all the rest of her family as well.

It was easy enough to believe. They had been Southerners, and who else was he most famous for killing? She had seen him kill now, and she had begun to understand what he was capable of.

She remembered the ghosts, and the wounds that had been on them. Their throats had been slit, cut clear across by something very sharp. Identical wounds to those she had seen on the pirates. Wounds that fitted the blade of Arenadd’s cherished sickle-the same one he had used in all their lessons when he had taught her how to fight.

Laela felt sick. Arenadd Taranisaii, her best friend, the one she had trusted her whole life to, the one she was doing everything for, the one she had hugged and sympathised with. . Arenadd Taranisaii had murdered her entire family. He had made her an orphan and stolen the life she could have had forever. He had nearly killed her, while she was in the cradle.

“That’s what Gryphus wants,” she said to herself, so quietly she barely heard it. “He wants me to take revenge. To-to kill him.”

She stood up, moving to stand over Arenadd, and glanced quickly at the door. Nobody was around. Skandar was up on deck, enjoying some fresh air, and Duach and Penllyn were staying away to give her some time alone.

She looked back at Arenadd. She was unarmed, and there were no weapons in the room, but she could manage without one. He was so weak that she could probably suffocate him with a pillow or strangle him. Nobody would ever know it had been her; they would assume he had simply passed away in his sleep.

She didn’t move.

Arenadd’s face twitched, and he mumbled something inaudible.