"I know."
"Do you?" He studied me. "The shadow realms are painted as nightmare lands of corruption and suffering. But I have often wondered how much worse they could truly be than what we do here, in the blessed light, and call virtue."
"Careful, Sarp. That talk is treason."
"So is half of what rattles around in your head." He drained his cup. "Now. Let us discuss how to destroy Ferit Ercel."
"He says terrible things constantly. No one cares."
"No one cares when he insults servants and half-bloods and Iskylarians." Sarp's eyes glinted. "But what if he insulted someone who mattered? High Lord Volkan, for instance. Who happens to be responsible for border security? Who has been publicly criticized for being too soft on shadow infiltration."
Understanding dawned. "If Ferit were heard speaking against Volkan's competence..."
"In public. Before witnesses. While clearly intoxicated." Sarp spread his hands. "That would be treason, would it not? Questioning a High Lord's fitness for duty? Suggesting the Divine Council itself might be compromised?"
"Ferit would never say such things unprompted."
"He would if properly encouraged. If someone fed his paranoia about shadow infiltration. If someone suggested that the real reason half-bloods are treated so gently is because the High Lords themselves have been compromised." Sarp smiled. "Ferit already believes Ada is shadow-tainted. It would take very little to convince him the corruption runs higher."
"You want to manipulate him, so he starts spilling shit about Volkan. Fucking genius plan."
"I want to hand him enough rope to hang himself. All we need is the right moment, the right audience, and enough liquor to loosen his tongue past the point of caution."
"The Golden Bazaar." I saw it suddenly—the shape of the plan, elegant in its simplicity. "The market is three days hence. Volkan always walks the stalls at midday. If Ferit were there, drunk enough to be reckless?—"
"And if someone happened to mention, within his hearing, that Volkan had just blocked another proposal to increase purification requirements?—"
"His paranoia would do the rest."
Sarp raised his cup. "To the destruction of Ferit Ercel. May his downfall be spectacular."
I met his toast.
The plan was set.
My mother was waiting when I returned to Lord Kaya's household and when I saw her my chest filled with warmth. She sat in the single chair beside the narrow window, her profile lit by the last rays of sunset, and even after one hundred and sixty-eight years I still caught my breath at her beauty. It was not the soft prettiness favored by Light Court ladies—it was something fiercer, more ancient, the kind of beauty that started wars and drew the attention of gods.
My mother was exceptionally beautiful—the kind that made men turn their heads and forget what they were saying. Amber eyes, dark hair, features that would stay sharp and unlined formillennia. But it was the way she looked at you that people actually remembered. She looked no older than thirty—would look no older than thirty for millennia yet—but something in how she held herself spoke of ages survived.
Whatever had drawn a god's attention to her, it had not been fragility.
"You have blood on your hand."
I glanced at my palm, at the cuts already healing. "Training accident."
"I don’t think it was a training accident." She rose with fluid grace, crossing to examine my hand with fingers that were gentle but unyielding. "You gripped something until it broke." Her eyes lifted to mine. "What happened?"
"Nothing worth discussing."
"Everything about you is worth discussing." She released my hand but did not step back. "You come home with blood on your skin and murder in your eyes. What are you planning?"
"Justice."
"Justice." She tasted the word like poison. "Is that what you call it? Aydan told me what she saw during the purification ceremony, Hakan. When they brought out that servant girl and you watched Ada try to save her. She told me that you couldn’t take your eyes of Gün Ata’s daughter."
"And you believed her? You know Ada and I used to be close."
"Used to?" She tilted her head, studying me. She knew perfectly well what had happened between us—had watched it happen. Why bring it up now? "What changed, Hakan?"
