Chapter 17 #2
It took only a few minutes for the room to fill back up with servants and Dogs, some straightening the rumpled bedclothes, others dressing Tallu and me, a couple bringing breakfast from the kitchen.
Each of the servants who brought it tested the food in front of the watchful Dogs.
Neither hesitated, and I wondered how they had that strength to trust that none of the other servants had put something in the food.
I prepared myself a plate, then looked out the window and saw the three ravens that had followed me from the Mountainside Palace to the Lakeshore Palace.
Terror appeared grumpy, his ruffled feathers and arched shoulders making it clear that he was not impressed with how tightfisted I was being with the food.
Amused, I opened the door to the balcony, stepping out onto it and out of earshot of all the servants and Dogs. I pinched a piece of fried meat from my plate between my thumb and forefinger, holding it out to Terror.
“For your loyalty,” I said. “Even if we no longer understand each other.”
The bird cocked his head at me, turning so that he could regard me fully with one of his eyes. “She will owe me for staying so loyal to this miser. Why I…”
I blinked, frowning, but the more I tried to listen, the more his words faded though his voice lost none of its volume. Then, the only thing I heard was Dawn’s irritated squawk as Ratcatcher shuffled closer, nudging Terror until the other bird pecked him hard, sending him flapping away.
“She who?” I demanded, but Terror only regarded me.
I handed out most of the food on my plate, saving for myself the cooked cereal, already cooled by the time I put my spoon in it. The air changed as Tallu came up beside me.
Glancing over my shoulder, four Dogs were arrayed at the door to the balcony, just far enough that they might be able to hear whatever we said.
“My lord,” I said.
“You look at me strangely now,” Tallu murmured.
He handed over a small piece of bread, and Dawn and Ratcatcher fought over it, their squabbling covering his words.
“I thought perhaps I shouldn’t tell you.
But you make me irresponsibly honest. Loving you makes me lose all reason. I want to tell you everything.”
I turned, glancing at him. His profile was severe, his expression nearly unreadable. But I had seen behind his walls, and I knew that every aspect of his appearance was a single seamless facade, carefully constructed to turn him into the emperor that everyone wanted to see.
No wonder the Imperium’s citizens thought he was a god.
His own feelings had no place on the face of Emperor Tallu, patriarch of House Atobe, first Dragon Chosen Emperor of the Southern Imperium.
Yet underneath, I knew he was Tallu, the boy who had been waging a silent rebellion, poisoning his own empire from within.
Tallu’s emotions went as deep as the ocean, and loving me had set the surface of him alight—what had once been water as smooth as glass was now choppy with waves.
“I will not let this be the end,” I said. “And you will not either. We can leave now, give this all up. There are cabins in Dragon’s Rest Mountains that no one ever visits. We can find one and live there. I could hunt, and you could just be.”
Tallu turned, his lips pulling up in a slight smile. “Now who treats me as a child?”
But the smile too quickly dropped off his face, and he shook his head, forcing me to hold his russet gaze.
I shivered, remembering exactly how powerful he could be.
The power he wielded openly might be from his crown and his throne, but anyone who looked at him knew it was far more than that.
He was power incarnate. He was emperor not because of his birth but because of himself.
“Today, we rescue my brother, and I will need the skills your mother taught you.” Tallu’s eyes were exacting; he needed his assassin. “We cannot let Maki remain in the hands of a mad king.”
I had seen it, too: King Inor snapping at nothing, his eyes searching the darkness for things that no one else could see.
As Lerolian stepped through the Dogs, his face set in severe lines, I thought perhaps King Inor was not alone in that.
Both Tallu and I turned away from the Dogs, facing the grounds, and Lerolian came up beside us.
To anyone watching, it would look as though we were having a conversation with each other, the content covered up by the birds still fighting over the torn bread Tallu offered.
“With the loss we suffered last night, there are only seven of us left,” Lerolian said without any preamble.
He looked at the birds unseeingly, a grimace on his face.
“Three of us have decided to stay here rather than risk whatever the Shadow King has in store for us. It may be the last time you will see them.”
Tallu’s face paled, his lips so tight that they nearly matched the color of the marble railing around the balcony. He blinked, swallowing before he managed, “Will you stay here or come with me?”
Lerolian sighed, the frown on his face making the wounds there appear that much deeper. “I have promised I would see this through to the end with you, have I not?”
Tallu nodded, his chin dipping briefly so that it brushed the collar of his robe. “They are afraid of being pulled into the throne?”
“They are afraid of what it means. If they are pulled into this ‘shadow,’ does that mean they can never enter the river and be reborn again?” Lerolian rubbed at the wound on his chest, where an arrow had pierced him through.
“They would rather fade, going to the river now than risk it. But I made you a promise, and I will not go back on it if I have any strength left in me.”
The other six blood monks had arrayed themselves around the garden beneath our balcony, staring up at Tallu. Some looked sad, while others’ mouths pulled flat, their brows creased.
Three of them rested their hand to their chest, just over their heart, nodding their heads. Lerolian had once done something similar, and I recognized it as a sign of respect.
One by one, they left the gardens, weaving through the maze and stepping out through the wall.
“I am the Inner Heart, now, as I was then. It is my duty to protect any of my order who remain. And it was our curse that led to this.” Lerolian raised his hand, gently pressing it on Tallu’s shoulder, even though the latter could not feel the touch. “I will remain with you as long as I can.”
Tallu nodded, taking one last moment to look out over the grounds. He put his plate on the banister, and immediately, the birds began fighting over the scraps of his meal. When he turned, his robe spun behind him, a wave of black following him.
“Let us go to see Maki’s workshop. I would know what is in my palace.”
Two Dogs walked in front, Tallu and me in the middle, and another pair behind us.
Lerolian and the remaining ghosts went ahead, disappearing as they went to give us warning about what was coming.
No one spoke, servants standing back, bowing formally as we passed.
There were so many of them. It didn’t seem reasonable to have this many servants on staff when the emperor was not in residence.
Had Quuri managed to keep them all employed, or had she hired them recently—perhaps even in the hours between the arrival of our messenger and Tallu himself?
If so, she couldn’t possibly have vetted all of them.
Some of them would have come from the recommendations of others, or even just based on availability.
And what of the ones the Kennelmaster had spoken of last night?
Had those even had the benefit of recommendations, or were they simply warm bodies to fill the space?
I was left with an uncomfortable feeling. What did Terror’s words mean? Who was the “she” he had referred to? One of the new servants?
I tried not to let my frown show on my face, focusing instead on the golden clasp at the shoulder of Tallu’s robes. It matched the crown he wore, carved into the shape of a dragon.
As though following my thoughts, something heavy landed on my shoulder from behind, and I spun, only to realize it was Na?, no bigger than my forearm. She hissed into my ear, her tongue licking at my earlobe.
“I do not like this. There is something wrong here, deeply wrong, rotten from within. And yet you bite into the apple whole, knowing that something inside will make you sick.”
Before I could untangle that, we were at the head of the stairway, the Kennelmaster waiting with Asahi and Sagam. Ahead, Tallu paused just long enough to gesture. The three men turned, heading down the stairs.
At the bottom, the landing was just as narrow as I remembered; there wasn’t room for all of us. There were no signs of blood, no new scratches on the walls. There were no scraps of fabric from torn clothes or abandoned weapons.
Going by the evidence, no one had been here at all.
“Open the door,” Tallu said.
Sagam turned the handle, releasing a rotten stench, the smell of nicked bowels and kills not properly dealt with. Sagam and Asahi stepped inside first, the latter reaching up to light the lanterns.
The bolt of electricity, the brilliant white spark, went from his hands to the switch. Nothing happened. Frowning, he tried again, but the lights remained stubbornly off.
“There’s something wrong,” Asahi said. “They aren’t working.”
“Get the lanterns,” the Kennelmaster said. One of the Dogs behind us jogged back up the stairs, returning a few minutes later with five lanterns. He passed them among the Dogs, and soon, we were surrounded by them. Asahi and Sagam each took one, lighting them and stepping further into the room.
Tallu and I followed behind the Kennelmaster. The lanterns cast uneven, dancing shadows, and the corpses on the wall seemed to move as the light shifted.