Cyrilia received the gift of blackstone,Scholar Tarschon had whispered.
“Yet when humans discovered it,” Morganya said softly, “they began to abuse it. They used it to control Affinites, to exploit us, because theyfearedus, dear child. Humans will always fear the things they do not understand.” A malignant hatred, something rotten and fetid, twisted Morganya’s features. “When you speak ofdestroyingthe natural order, remember this: The unbalancing of our world began long ago, when humanity discovered blackstone and began to use it against Affinites.”
Perhaps that was true, Ana thought, keeping silent. Perhapsthe world had already been unbalanced long ago, whenthe oppression of Affinites began at the hands of non-Affinites through blackstone. And she, born into a world like this, had simply accepted it as the natural order, the way things were meant to be.
“And then,” Morganya continued, “the Deities left us searock, an element with powers naturally absorptive of alchemical magic. It took Alaric years to create siphons out of it so that we could use it on the alchemical power inhumans.In the wrong hands, it can be used to take away Affinities. In the right hands—inAffinitehands—it is used to gain more power.”
And Bregon,Scholar Tarschon had said,we received searock.
“Why leave us this magic,” Morganya murmured, “if not for us to use it? Why create Affinites in their shape if not to have us rule? The Deities have left us remnants of their powers so that we canbecomethem, Anastacya. I now understand that it is my duty to fulfill that destiny, and to bring balance back to this world.”
“You once spoke of liberating Affinites, of bringing equality to this world,” Ana said. “Yet you have freed Affinites from one type of servitude only to force them into another.” She spat the last words. “Into servitude foryou.”
“For me?” Morganya laughed, as though she genuinely found this amusing. “Darling girl, don’t you see? I amrestoringthe balance of the world. I am putting powerbackinto the hands of Affinites. All I need…is for them to believe in my cause, first. You see, people want to think they have a choice, yet you take that choice away, and they will begin to realize that everything I’m doing is right, that everything I’m doing is forthem.Then, I can create the perfect world I envision. I will dictate who is deserving of power and punish those who are not. I can dispensejustice upon this land, unencumbered. I can re-create this world as it should be.”
Ana thought back to a conversation that bore chilling echoes of this one—a conversation she’d had over a moon ago, in the darkest corner of Novo Mynsk, with a boy made of shadows. Seyin, the deputy of the rebel group the Redcloaks, had questioned the monarchy, questioned the idea of a world with a benevolent ruler.
“You’re not doing this for the people,” Ana said quietly, “you’re doing this to play at being a god. Look at the riots outside. And look at you. You’re so afraid of losing power that you would stop at nothing to take it all. To remake yourself in the form of a Deity.”
Morganya’s expression held such cold fury that Ana thought the Empress would kill her, right there and then.
But the Empress only bent forward, her eyes turning understanding, her face holding a glimmer of the quiet, kind aunt Ana had once thought her to be. “My dear Anastacya,” she whispered, stroking Ana’s face, each touch of her hand sending shivers of revulsion down Ana’s spine. “Why do you resist? You and I, we are the same.”
Against Ana’s will, Seyin’s whispers came back to her.Tell me, what is the difference between you and Morganya? You are, after all, both Affinite empresses promising a better world for your people.
Ana wanted to shut her eyes. But Morganya held her in place, her gaze boring into Ana’s.
“I grew up as the only Affinite in my small village,” Morganya said. “They called me a witch, a deimhov, an abomination.” Her expression had become distant, clouded in memories; her fingers had fallen still against Ana’s face. There was a sadness in herexpression, so faint that Ana might have missed it. “I swore to myself, then, that I would do whatever it took to take my revenge. To rid the world of people like that: those who inflicted cruelty, and those who stood by doing nothing as they watched.
“And then I came to Salskoff Palace. I watched as your father mistreated you, as he made the mistakes only a foolish emperor who’d experienced nothing of what his people were going through would make. I knew I had to take things into my own hands and remake this world as it should be. A world where a little girl born with a strange power might not think herself different, might not wonder herself a monster.”
It was as though Morganya had pulled out the whispers inside Ana’s own heart and spoken them from her lips. As Ana stared into her aunt’s face, looked over all its familiar edges and curves, she couldn’t help but feel as though she were looking into a cruel reflection of herself.
But—no,no,she thought, struggling, Morganya’s Affinity on her body resisting her attempts to turn away.
Morganya had murdered Mama, then Papa, then Luka, and hundreds, if not thousands, of other innocents without even batting an eyelash. And now, she planned to use and manipulate the very people she was sworn to protect…to grow her own power.
But Ana…Ana had always remembered the very first thing her brother had told her. A whisper from all those years past. She closed her eyes, summoning his image, the bright green eyes sparkling against fawn skin, the smile that had lit up her world just like Mama’s used to.Your Affinity does not define you,he’d told her.What defines you is how you choose to wield it.
Ana lifted her gaze to her aunt’s. “No one is born a monster,” she said quietly. “We become monsters because of our choices.”
The empathy on Morganya’s face vanished. “My Affinity is spent from our earlier speech,” she snapped, turning to Sadov. Exhaustion lined her face; sometime throughout their conversation, dark circles had appeared beneath her eyes. “I cannot exercise adequate control over her mind.”
Realization washed over Ana like cold water: Morganya had been trying to use mind control on Ana. It was the more insidious aspect of her Affinity to flesh and the makeup of one’s body: Over the years, Morganya had trained herself to be able to re-form the matters in people’s minds, shaping the nebulous spaces where thoughts were born and twisting them to her way.
Yet there was always a cost to using one’s Affinity—a cost with which Ana was intimately familiar. She knew, all too well, the feeling of weakness, nausea, and fatigue that came after expending one’s powers.
Morganya had overused hers—perhaps in an attempt to control too many people.
Sadov’s reply came from the shadows. “Soon, my Divine Empress, your power shall be unfettered.”
There was something in his tone that drew Ana’s attention. Something she wasn’t understanding, just yet.
The Empress turned back to Ana. Her expression was stoic, almost businesslike. “I thought persuading you to change your mind might be the kind way out,” she said softly, and lifted a slender hand in Kapitan Markov’s direction. “One last chance, Anastacya. Tell me where the siphon is, or your Kapitan dies.”
It was as though she’d knocked the breath from Ana. “No.” Her voice shook. “You can do whatever you wish to me. Just don’t hurt him.”
Her aunt laughed, a silken sound. “If I know you at all, it isthat you have one great weakness, Little Tigress. I have learned that hurting you will achieve nothing. But hurting the ones you love?” Her lips curled triumphantly, and she flexed her fingers. “The siphon. Last chance.”
