The very air feels wrong once we’re inside those marble walls—wrong as a splinter I want to rip out, if only I could find its edges.
As Meredy and I lead a hurried procession of a dragon and a grizzly bear down the hall to the throne room, our footsteps make lonely echoes off the polished marble. Just like on the hill, there are more guards than usual stationed throughout the warren of halls, but there are no masked and shrouded figures flitting through any of them. No dry, rattling conversations and laughter of the Dead filling these halls the way they always have.
And that, I realize, is what’s bothering me.
All the rooms once belonging to the Dead are empty, together composing dusty chambers of a hollow, lifeless heart. A heart whose rhythms were as familiar to me as those of my own. I’ve lost something else I can’t replace, and suddenly, as we walk over a large scorch mark darkening the hallway, I have the urge to grab Meredy’s hand.
“It feels odd being home, doesn’t it?” she whispers, squeezing my hand as if the absence of the Dead has her on edge, too.
“This is Karthia,” I answer, the words sticking in my throat, “but it isn’t home.”
Meredy arches a brow. When I don’t offer any explanation, she leans in to kiss my cheek, making me feel as though I’ve just swallowed a cup of hot, strong tea.
With her by my side, it’s easier to square my shoulders and hasten toward the throne room doors as two guards draw them open. They bow low as I pass, whispering, “Welcome home, Sparrow,” and I somehow find a smile for them.
They stare openly at Nipper, exchanging guesses as to what she might be—“Is that a wild cat?” “A sort of boar?”—as her tail slithers over their feet on our way past. It’s clear they’re hungry for any distraction from the palace’s pervasive air of misery.
Their curious chatter fades into the background as I take in the sight before me. It’s amazing how much someone can change something in a short time, if they’re determined enough. The last time I was in this room, I killed a man I once trusted. A man I once called a friend. The blood has long been wiped from the glistening marble floor, of course. But now, on the raised dais where the throne was proudly displayed—a seat occupied by Valoria’s ancestors for countless centuries, and coveted by many—there’s a new chair, morecomfortable and less imposing-looking, decorated with gems, its arms painted a warm rose gold.
Valoria sits on its wide, black velvet-cushioned seat, flanked by girls I don’t recognize, girls who must be her ladies-in-waiting. Just as I’ve often pictured her while we’ve been gone, her head is bent over the notebook where she maps out her inventions and plans, and a stick of charcoal rests between her fingers. My heart aches at the familiar sight, and I suppress the sudden urge to throw my arms around her.
Instead, I mount the steps to the new throne and kneel stiffly before her while Meredy lingers at the bottom of the steps to lecture Nipper for trying to bite one of the guards stationed around the dais.
“Valoria. Thank the stars you’re all right. We came as soon as we got your message—or rather, overheard it,” I say quickly, before the lump in my throat gets any worse. There’s a small scar on her collarbone, almost hidden by the high collar of her inventor’s jacket, and beside her rests a long, polished piece of black wood with a wolf’s head carved into its handle. A cane. “Valoria,pleasesay something. I want to know everything.”
Snapping her notebook shut, Valoria lifts her head. Perhaps it’s a trick of the scant light cast by one of the many chandeliers she’s installed in here, but her deep brown eyes seem to shine harder than the glittering stones of sapphire, emerald, jasper, smoky quartz, and turquoise set in her tall golden crown.
“You’re later than I expected,” she sniffs.
Smudges of charcoal decorate her face and neck, but her inventor’s jacket, with its stiff shoulders and glittering gold threads, still looks immaculate.
Gathering the loose fabric at the end of my shirtsleeve, I reach to dab the biggest charcoal stain beneath her eye. “It’s so good tosee you.” I don’t addalive, though I think it. “You’ve got a little something—”
She raises a hand as if to slap me, making the rest of my words stick in my throat. I gaze deep into her eyes, daring her to go through with it, but her lower lip trembles and she drops the hand as swiftly as she raised it.
“Death be damned, Your Majesty,” I mutter under my breath as I leap to my feet. “If you need a punching bag, I’m right here,friend. But give me some warning first.”
Valoria staggers to her feet, aided by the two girls on either side of her. One of them offers out the cane, but she shakes her head, refusing it.
“Friendsdon’t call each other by their titles!” she snaps, leaning so close I can smell her perfume of daffodils and rosewater. “Friends don’t bow to each other.” Her eyes are shining so bright, I realize, with the effort of holding back tears as everyone else in the room looks on in quiet awe. Valoria has certainly found her leader’s voice. “Oh, and friends don’t vanish from each other’s lives in the middle of the night without a word like they never really mattered to each other at all, especially not when one of them just took over running a kingdom.” She takes a deep breath and adds with a hint of pride I’ve missed, “It’s good to know my little winged messenger made the journey to Sarral, at any rate. Did you see it? What did you think of the design?”
When I shake my head sadly, she nods and drops back onto the throne, as if the effort of standing without the aid of her cane cost her something. I note the old, familiar gleam of curiosity in her eyes as Nipper peers up at her, but she doesn’t ask about the dragon.
“Where are the Shade-baiters who attacked you?” I demand, trying to forgive the way she nearly slapped me. I deserved it, but it’s not like the Valoria I know to hold on to so much anger.
“Rotting in the dungeons, along with Lyda Crowther and the other traitors loyal to my departed brother. Danial made sure the would-be murderers never see daylight again,” Valoria answers coolly. “And in case you’re keeping count of everyone who’s tried to kill me, that’s: Count Rykiel, Duchess Nyx, Baroness Crowther—she’s a snake even from her cell—and three rogue mages from Grenwyr City. We’ve had an assassin sent from as far as the Idrany Islands, too, so add another to the tally.”
“Seven?” I shake my head, stunned. “And the Shade—was there really a Shade?”
Valoria nods grimly. “Jax and Simeon took care of it. My only loyal weather mage put out the resulting fire.”
That explains the scorch mark in the hallway. Once again, I have to fight the urge to put my arms around Valoria. If Danial couldn’t heal her limp, she must have truly brushed death. I just want to shelter her from this place that’s turned against her.
“Of course, now that my most experienced necromancer has answered my summons, I have work for you to do,” Valoria continues, her tone much too formal for my liking. “You’re to guard my back from Shades and anyone dangerous enough to create them. You’ll also need to keep a close eye on the gates in the city—there are usually only a handful at a time, as I’m sure you recall. You’ll also assist Jax and Simeon in watching the cemeteries so no one goes disturbing the dead. Oh, and have Kasmira come see me as soon as she’s finished with her usual business at the harbor. I have work for her and the crew, too. Understood?”
“Of course. Anything you need, I’m here. I was so scared when I heard what had happened.” I kneel again so she’s forced to meet my eyes. “Everyone was. Kasmira used so much of her magic trying to get us here, I’m afraid her hand might be damaged for good.” Taking a deepbreath, I add, “Valoria, leaving was never about hurting you. It was...” My voice trails away as I struggle to put into words all the wounds I was trying to mend after the battle. “It doesn’t matter what it was. I’m sorry I wasn’t here before, but I’m here now, and if anyone else tries to send a Shade after you, they’ll have to answer to me. But how did a Shade get inside the palace in the first place?”
“I fear you’d have to ask my council about that,” Valoria says coldly.
