A Sky Beyond the Storm (An Ember in the Ashes #4) - Sabaa Tahir Page 0,39

it into me, Mauth would heal my body.

“If you so desperately want to keep me out of trouble,” she says, “walk with me. If the jinn come, I give you leave to take me where you like.”

Mauth’s magic twinges, a somnolent snake stirring, sensing a distant threat.

I nod once, in agreement. I give you leave to take me where you like. The way she regards me is—fixed. Yet there is a warmth to it. A sultry heat underlying her determination. What is she thinking, when she looks at me like that? Where would I take her if I could?

The voice imprisoned within answers: Somewhere peaceful. Rain drumming above and a fire crackling, a soft bed and hours and hours ahead.

I turn my back on that voice, and on her.

“I’ll be nearby,” I tell her. “No need to come looking for me.”

Then I windwalk far enough away to collect myself, before she makes me feel any more.

XVI: The Blood Shrike

By the time we reach Delphinium, my arrow wound has reopened and bleeds freely down my thigh. I grit my teeth against the pain as my men drag open the ancient wooden gates, which dump a small avalanche of fresh snow onto my head. When I dismount before the decrepit castle that is the new seat of the Emperor, my legs nearly give way.

“Harper,” I say. His brows are furrowed, his hand half-extended toward me, but I shoo him into the castle. “See that Musa, Darin, and Tas are well settled. I must find Livia.”

The Gens Aquilla flag flies high atop the castle’s steeply pitched roof, as does the hawk-and-hammer flag of my nephew. Delphinium has never felt like the rest of the Empire. It lacks the domes and columns of Antium, or the vast orchards of Serra.

Instead it is a city of thatched roofs and cobbled lanes, tucked into the massive Nevennes Range. The residents are tough and boisterous and less concerned with class than the rest of the Empire. Taius the First was born here five hundred years ago, when it was nothing but a trading post for trappers selling furs and fish.

I listen to the drum messages as I ascend the steps. Supply train attacked north of Estium, thirty dead. Warlock Grímarr spotted in Strellium barracks raid. Seventy dead.

My time away has emboldened Keris and her cronies. I must find a way to wrest the balance of power back.

The men at the front gate salute, and I barely wave them at ease before turning toward Faris, who strides out of the keep to greet me. “The Emperor?” I say.

“Charming petitioners with the Empress Regent.” He glances down. “Shrike, you’re bleeding all over the steps.”

“A scratch,” I say, and when he rolls his eyes instead of smothering me with concern like Dex or Harper would have, I’m thankful he understands me. “The Emperor shouldn’t be so visible. Why is Livia seeing petitioners with him?”

“You can take that up with her.” Faris puts his hands up. “She won’t listen to Rallius, or me. Says the people need to see their emperor.”

Of course Livia would say that. She doesn’t realize how many assassination attempts we’ve foiled.

Dex appears from the hallway behind Faris, in his usual Mask’s armor, but for a blue-and-gold cloak that marks him as Livia’s steward.

“Security is the least of our issues, Shrike,” he says. “There are a dozen Paters making noise about the recent attacks on supply trains. The Empress Regent is to meet with them in an hour, but they might take greater heed of her if you—and your scim—were present.”

“I’ll be there,” I say. Delphinium welcomed us with open arms five months ago. The people here welcomed the Scholars too.

But then Livia freed the Scholars. The Commandant sent assassins for our allies and my nephew. The troops haven’t been paid in weeks. We began rationing to prevent starvation, as Keris has a chokehold on all the roads south of the Argent Hills.

And I bear more bad news.

As I pass him, Faris peers behind me. “Where’s your little archer?”

I know who he’s speaking of. Laia’s sudden departure from our group stung. Part of me respects her lack of sentimentality. She had a mission. She did what she had to do.

Still, I wish she’d at least said goodbye.

“Little archer? She has better aim than you, you ass.” I punch Faris in the arm, and he winces. “And she’s braver. I didn’t see you delivering a baby in the middle of a siege. As I recall, you were trying not