Lightbringer (Empirium #3) - Claire Legrand Page 0,44

returning to the deepest corners of herself, hidden and untouchable, like shadows retreating fast at midday.

But it was too late.

Beside a humming, pale ring of light, Simon stood with raised arms, both of them shaking with obvious effort. But when he stepped through the light and disappeared, he emerged the next moment at the far side of the room. He took a single staggering step before falling to his knees, gasping for breath, and when he looked up at Corien, it was with a tired triumph.

Such a little thing, a mere skip across a single room, and he had not touched the threads of time.

But the threads of space he had found were brighter than those he had summoned upon her arrival in Elysium. Stronger, more reliable. It was a start, and Eliana had allowed it to happen. She had made it happen. She had lost her grip on her power, let it rise as she had when Remy lay bleeding in her arms, and again on the beach in Festival, and again—awfully, guttingly—in the gardens of Willow with Simon’s heart beating under her hands. That one small moment had been enough.

Her stomach plunged fast, a swift fall of ice.

Corien smiled, wide and slow.

“Excellent,” he said quietly. “Now we can begin.”

9

Navi

“The last queen of the Vespers? Oh, we all loved her. Her consort died at sea many years ago, left her a young widow, but she kept building her ships, and she raised seven children to be the sweetest little crownlings you could ever hope to meet. Then the Empire came to the capital, killed her and six of her babies on the steps of the Ivory Palace. But her seventh child, little Brizeya, was never found. Some think she was swept out to sea, where the waves laid her to rest beside her father. Others think she still lives, planning her revenge. I think of that poor child every night. If she does still live, I hope she never learns her true name. There’s nothing left for her here. There’s nothing left for any of us.”

—Collection of stories written by citizens of the occupied Vespers, curated by Hob Cavaserra

They had been traveling through the Kavalian Bog for six days and two hours, and Navi was convinced they would never find their way out.

Glaring ahead through the strange yellow-tinged fog that choked the air, Navi gripped her oar hard and rowed.

Ruusa, the head of her personal guard, did not like that Navi was rowing. She was one of only four of Navi’s personal guard who had managed to escape the Empire’s invasion of Astavar and flee to safety with Navi, her brother Malik, and their friend Hob.

It had been weeks since they had left Astavar, weeks since Navi’s healers had administered the crawler antidote Eliana and Harkan had stolen from Annerkilak. Ruusa, however, was still not used to the idea of Navi being well. She scolded Navi for working so hard at the oars. Navi would wear herself out. Navi must guard against exhaustion in case some dormant scrap of crawler serum remained in her blood.

But rowing was the only thing keeping Navi sane. Rowing and recreating in her memory a map of the Vespers.

They were on one of the Vespers’ northernmost islands, Hariaca. Once they crossed this awful, endless swamp, they would follow the Hezta River to the island’s southern coast. From there they would traverse the Amatis Shallows on foot to the island of Laranti.

And there, at last, Navi would meet with the leader of Red Crown in the Vespers. A woman, Hob said, named Ysabet. She would be able to help Navi mobilize the Red Crown soldiers scattered throughout the Vespers—a massive nation comprising thousands of islands ranging in size from the enormous and city-choked to the minute and remote—and prepare them to travel across the Great Ocean to the Emperor’s city, Elysium. They would gather an army of rebels and strays, then sail to Eliana’s aid, ready to help her destroy the heart of the Empire.

If, that is, Eliana was still alive by then. If she hadn’t already been tortured into madness or coerced into allying with the Emperor.

Or, God forbid, willingly agreed to ally with the Emperor.

It was at a small Red Crown safe house in Meridian that they had learned the devastating truth: the brutal onslaught of imperial forces at the city of Festival and the capture of Eliana by Admiral Ravikant, who commanded the Emperor’s navy.

Navi closed her eyes. She had not yet