“Yes, she is.” I didn’t want to talk about Lady Sarnai. Seeing my brother and my father again, all I wanted was to memorize their faces. To hear their voices and fill the widening gaps in my memory.
Baba’s sleeves were torn, and when I rolled them up I saw welts on his arms.
“They only hurt us when we resisted,” said Keton thinly. “When they came to Port Kamalan, I tried to fight them. They nearly burned the shop down.”
I paled with wrath. Just thinking of Baba being torn from his worktable, of soldiers looting the shop my family had strived so hard to keep, of seeing my father and brother in chains, and of Keton, who had only just regained his ability to walk, pushed down and whipped—how dare the shansen!
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “This is my fault.”
Keton touched my arm, a sign of forgiveness, but I could see the questions forming in his head, made evident by the crease of his brow. Whywasthis my fault? Why was I so important that the shansen had sent soldiers to Port Kamalan to capture him and Baba? These questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
I pressed my lips tight and hid my hands in my pockets.
To my relief, Edan appeared.
“The main apartments in the south courtyard were untouched by the fire,” he said quietly. He sounded tired; using magic had drained him more than he was willing to let on. “It’ll be warmer there for your father.”
Keton’s eyes widened, recognizing Edan from the stories I’d told about him, but this wasn’t the time for introductions.
Together, Edan and I lifted Baba and carried him inside. We found a bed in one of the ministers’ chambers, and as we set Baba on it, his hooded eyes peeled open.
He clasped my arm. “Maia.”
I flinched and kept my eyes lowered, hoping Baba wouldn’t notice them if I stayed in the shadows.
“You’re safe, Baba,” I told him. “The shansen is gone. Lady Sarnai has taken the Winter Palace.”
“And the emperor?”
I hesitated. “Dead.”
“Dead. So many dead.” Baba’s eyes glazed over and stared off at the ceiling. He said nothing for a long while. “May the gods watch over him.”
He started to sit up. “Who is that behind you?”
Edan had returned with a steaming bronze kettle.
“Baba, Keton…,” I started. “This is Edan, His Majesty’s Lord Enchanter.”
“FormerLord Enchanter,” said Edan, clearing his throat.
Any other time, I might have smiled at how nervous Edan looked, but not today. He set down the kettle to properly greet my family. First a bow to Baba, then to Keton, who balked.
“We’re the same age,” said my brother. “Stop bowing. Please.”
My father eyed the enchanter with distrust. “Ah, yes, I’ve heard a great deal about you. There are many who believe you are the reason for the Five Winters’ War.”
Edan inhaled a deep breath. “And they would not be incorrect,” he replied, “sir.”
“So you are the one to blame for the deaths of my eldest sons. For the thousands of sons that died, and the many more that are marching to their deaths as we speak.”
“Baba—” I tried to interject. I offered him the water. “Drink.”
At the sound of my voice, Baba’s shoulders trembled.
He let out a sigh of remorse. “I am tired,” he said at last. “Save these introductions for another time. I wish to rest.”
His eyes closed, dismissing us all.
