Faraj smiled. “Well met, Lady. Asheris tells me you did us a valuable service. The Empire appreciates your efforts. But we must speak again later—I have business in the hall, and my daughter is impatient to see the mountain.” He nodded politely and touched his wife’s hand in farewell before turning toward the hall.
Adam caught her as Isyllt set her foot in the stirrup. “Do you want me to come?” he asked in Selafaïn.
“If he decides to murder me on the mountain, I doubt you could save me.”
His eyes narrowed as he glanced at the smoking mountain. “I don’t trust that thing. I don’t trust anything here.”
“Good. Don’t start.”
His mouth twisted. “I’m doing a lot of waiting for you.”
She gave him an arch smile. “But you do it so well.” Feeling Asheris’s eyes on her, she swung into the saddle before he could reply.
The ride up the mountain was an easy one, despite Isyllt’s aching back. The road was cleared wide and paved, the horses sure-footed. The same ward-posts lined the way. She caught sight of other buildings scattered behind the hall that she hadn’t visited on her first tour—lapidaries’ offices, and servants’ quarters.
No matter how sure-footed, horses couldn’t climb the steep upper slopes. They dismounted at a way station a third of the way up and began the rest of the climb on foot.
Soldiers led the procession, with the Viceroy’s family just behind. Murai, whom Isyllt guessed to be near twelve, skipped up the road, tireless and nimble as a goat. Isyllt walked beside Asheris, the rest of the guards trailing a polite distance behind.
The path was broad and smooth, but stable footing didn’t lessen the unnerving whistle and tug of the wind around the rocks, or the sight of dust and pebbles rolling away into nothingness. The wooden railing seemed far too fragile for the fall beneath it.
The forest stretched below them, draped like velvet across the hills. The Mir glittered as it rolled to the sea and the bay shimmered with gray-green iridescence, shot with blue and gold where sunlight fell. Across the river lay the green slopes of Mount Ashaya, a jewel-bright lake nestled in her cauldron. Unlike her sibling, Ashaya slept, her fires cold and dead.
Isyllt glanced down and frowned. They must make a lovely target, strung like beads against the mountainside. Would rebel arrows reach so high? Sweat trickled across her scalp and stuck strands of hair to her face.
“How is it that a member of the royal house came here?” she asked Asheris, to distract herself from calculating assassinations.
“Barely a relation. But the bonds between us were enough that the Emperor trusted me to oversee things here.” His voice was a shade too bland as he wiped his brow. He wore no hat—which seemed unwise despite the color of his skin—and moisture glistened across the curve of his skull and darkened his collar. “Sivahra is a valuable asset to him.”
“Are attacks like yesterday’s common? We hear only rumors in the north.”
“They become more common, though yesterday’s was worse than usual. This Hand of Freedom grows bolder, or madder. They kill their own with every such strike.”
“Have you made any arrests?”
He glanced up at the sun, amber eyes narrowing against the glare. “I suspect that’s being taken care of even as we speak.” His smile was hard and cold, and Isyllt turned her gaze back to the path in front of her.
Xinai woke to sunlight dappling through a window, memories and dreams so tangled she couldn’t tell where she was. Home.
But not truly, though the room with its clay walls and woven mats was nearly twin to the room she’d slept in as a child. She swallowed, the taste of last night’s spiced beer sour now on her tongue. Outside, the familiar sounds of daily work drifted in the air.
The door creaked softly and her hand neared her knife hilt. Riuh Xian ducked his head into the room.
“Good, you’re awake.” He’d washed the ashes from his hair and replaited his beaded braids. In better light he was younger than she’d thought, not far past twenty.
“What time is it?”
“Nearly noon. You missed breakfast.”
She wrinkled her nose at the thought; last night’s feast still sat heavy in her stomach.
He tossed a folded bundle to her. “Grandmother says I’m to take you to Cay Lin, if you wish.”
“I know the way.” It came out harsher than she meant, and he began to turn away. “But I don’t mind the company. Thank