“In my travels.”
Booted feet came to a stop at the entrance of the room. There were no more doors in the manor; they had all been ripped off when the Imperial soldiers evicted the house’s noble residents and declared it the new containment shelter for the former army of Mhashan.
“She’s there. Zira Westwind is there.” Kahrin pointed at them and spoke to the Imperial soldiers on either side of her. “The one with the shorter hair.”
“Westwind…” Vi repeated softly. The name was familiar to her in a way she hadn’t been expecting. “Your name is Westwind?”
Zira didn’t have a chance to answer as soldiers approached. “Come,” a broad-shouldered man barked in Mhashanese. Zira stood without protest.
“Where are you taking her?” Vi asked, jumping from the windowsill. The man ignored her and she repeated herself, forcing her tongue to make the sounds of the common language she’d spoken all her life, “Where are you taking her?”
The two soldiers stopped, gaping at her in surprise. They weren’t the only ones; the soldiers of Mhashan wore expressions of curiosity at her deft outburst.
“That is none of your concern,” one of the men finally said, before they dragged Zira out of sight.
* * *
There was no word of Zira, and none from Kahrin or Luke either. After Vi’s outburst in common, they began to shy away from her—prior suspicions of her being some kind of Southern spy reignited. Without Zira, Vi didn’t have the energy or inclination to refute them.
Three days passed, and Vi became bolder about wandering the manor. She was growing tired of being cooped up, tired of waiting. Perhaps it would be better if she could remember more of the immediate details following the fall of Mhashan, but her studies—or her memories of them—were lacking. She needed the counsel of the man who was tasked with looking back for her. But every room she entered was filled with people.
“How is it outside?” she asked one of the girls passing out hunks of bread. It had tasted so good three days ago, but had since grown stale. “Any progress?”
“Some.” Vi stepped off to the side, leaning against the wall next to her. “There’s rumors they might be lifting the martial law soon.”
“Rumors don’t hold water. Did they kill Zira?”
“I don’t know who Zira is, but the killings in the square have ended.”
That much was good, at least. The Emperor must be feeling more confident in his control of Mhashan. The next step would be—
“Criers today announced that tomorrow, there will a ball held for Mhashan’s court.”
“A ball?” Vi repeated. After weeks of ruling with blood and an iron fist, there was to be a party?
“I think it’s odd, having a party so close to so much bloodshed. But who understands royals? The ball is to follow some kind of announcement in the square opposite the castle.”
An engagement announcement. The Emperor would secure his hold in the West with a marriage. Vi finished off her bread with one more large bite, thanked the girl, and left. If there was a ball, the castle would be open; he’d want as many nobles as possible to attend.
Vi waited for nightfall. She’d staked her claim in the corner of one of the rooms—crowded enough that no one would notice one person missing, empty enough that she could have the dark corner of what was once a closet to herself.
“Durroe watt ivin,” Vi whispered, standing and sliding into the skin of one of the Imperial soldiers she’d been watching for weeks. The brief flash of light didn’t seem to wake any of those sleeping.
Carefully tiptoeing from the room, Vi stepped into the hall and walked with confidence. Magic was hot under her hand and the illusion blurred the edge of her vision. But it was far easier than the first time she had attempted a similar deceit—escaping out of the fortress of Soricium as Jayme.
“Lolan, don’t you usually take the mornings?” one of the guards asked as she approached the exit.
“Usually. I’m covering half a rotation,” Vi said softly, with the same Southern accent Ginger would use. Vi had picked this particular guard for her masquerade because she’d never raised her voice above a whisper. “Excuse me.”
Keeping her head down, Vi stepped out into the street. The guards at the door said nothing more. They believed the illusion completely.
Vi took a breath of fresh air. Freedom filled her lungs.
She started down the street toward where she knew the Le’Dan’s shop would be.
Chapter Five
She keptthe illusion of Lolan’s skin most of the way through the city. Vi passed three other Imperial soldiers who each gave her a bob of their heads before continuing on their patrols. It wasn’t until she reached the opulent area of town where the Le’Dan shop stood proud that Vi stepped back into a side alley, crouched, and finally let go of the magic running thin against her palm.
