They’d landed on the shores of Northern Cyrilia, at a small fishing port where immigration checks were not stringent. Linn and Kaïs slipped through the Portmaster’s cursory glance. No yaegers around to sniff out the scent of their Affinities. She wondered whether that had changed, with Morganya on the throne. Would the yaegers now go after thosewithoutAffinities?
Tonight was the second night of their journey east to Salskoff in search of Ana and her army. They kept their eyes and ears out for any clues of the Red Tigress’s whereabouts; until they found her, though, Kaïs suggested Salskoff was the best destination. In the sprawling capital city, they would be sure to find information.
Throughout the past moon of their travels, whenever she wasn’t eating or training with Kaïs, Linn would look at the littlewooden token Ruu’ma had given her. It seemed to hold all the secrets of their world. She’d memorized every groove and etching as well as she knew the lines of her own palms. She’d turned over every word the Temple Masters had spoken, wringing meaning from them until they’d run dry.
The Heart of the Gods lay at the northernmost point in this world, where the Silent Sea met the shores of the Cyrilian Empire. And, as Ruu’ma had said, it was the source of all alchemical power that, combined with siphons, could harness all the magic in the world—to restore balance to the world…or to destroy it.
Theyhadto get this information to Ana, and bring her to where the Heart was supposedly located, before the Imperial Patrols brought the jade tablet to Morganya.
Linn and Kaïs slept huddled in an abandoned dacha the first night. They ate rations they’d purchased at the fishing port’s market, and melted snow to add to their waterskins to drink. On the second day, they came across a destroyed village.
It was near dusk, the Syvern Taiga drawing a jagged outline against a gray winter sky. Linn smelled the smoke in the air, its acrid stench woven into her winds. It wasn’t long before they found the source.
Several dachas near the outermost edge of the village had been burned black. It was only when Linn touched her cheeks and her fingers came away smudged with streaks of gray that she realized it was ash twirling down from the sky and not snow.
They walked down empty streets, a gale rising like the moans of phantoms all around them. The village square was empty, yet Linn couldn’t help but feel as though they were being watched. She could sense Kaïs’s tension by her side; he flexed his fingersevery once in a while, as though yearning to grasp the hilts of his swords.
And then, in the landscape rendered monochrome, she glimpsed a flash of color. Linn bent, sweeping aside the blanket of soot and snow, and let out a soft gasp.
It was a frozen piece of parchment, painted in bold themes of crimson and gold, but what drew Linn’s gaze was the portrait on the page: a face she knew all too well.
ANASTACYA MIKHAILOV, THE RED TIGRESS OF CYRILIA,the poster announced,DECLARES WAR AGAINST THE BLOODY REIGN OF EMPRESS MORGANYA.
“Kaïs,” she exclaimed, turning around, but the next thing she saw took her breath away.
Kaïs crouched on the ground several steps away, bent over what resembled a bundle of furs. Upon closer look, Linn realized: It was a person.
She stumbled across the snow and fell to her knees. It was a woman the same age as Linn’s or Kaïs’s parents. Her pale blond hair peeked out from the shawls she’d wrapped around her face—but blood was splattered across her chin and lips. Linn shivered.
“Her lips are blue,” Kaïs observed. “Linn, pass me a globefire.”
Wordlessly, Linn reached into their pack and took out a fresh globefire. With a few rattles, the alchemical powders within were ablaze. Gently, Kaïs took the woman’s hands and wrapped them around the orb.
“Meya dama,” he said. “We are here to help. Can you tell us what happened?”
The woman’s lips moved faintly, and Linn caught a whisper. “Red Tigress…”
Kaïs unlatched the waterskin from his pack and tipped it to her mouth. The water mingled with blood as it dribbled down her chin. The woman’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Linn with sudden urgency.
“My son,” she rasped. “He pledged himself to the Red Tigress’s army…then the Empress’s forces came and…”
“The Red Tigress’s army,” Linn repeated sharply. “They were here not long ago?”
“Just yesterday morning,” the woman whispered. Her lips trembled. “The Empress’s forces passed through…just hours ago…” Tears leaked down her cheeks. “We should never have resisted. Fighting is fruitless. All that it has brought us…is this….”
Looking around the scorched dachas, Linn thought of another city that had fallen not long ago. Novo Mynsk had suffered the same fate, under Morganya’s Imperial Inquisition.
Was this what awaited the world if Morganya found the Heart of the Gods and siphoned its full power?
She gripped the woman’s shoulder, and it was then that she noticed the large gash on the woman’s abdomen. “Meya dama,” Linn said quietly. “Can you tell us where the Red Tigress’s army went?”
“East,” came the reply. “To…Osengrad.”
“And the Imperial Inquisition,” Kaïs cut in. “Where did theygo?”
The woman shook her head. “Not…Inquisition,” she whispered. “They were too few in number….”
Linn looked up sharply, meeting Kaïs’s eyes.
