Chapter 27
He leads me to the large, gilded mirror at the back of his closet. When I was searching his room, I tried to pry it off the wall, but I don’t mention my snooping. I want to build some trust between us.
“We’ll only have to do this once. May I?” He puts his hand out for mine.
I give it to him, confused as to where this is leading. He steps behind me.
His reflection towers over me, and his hand dwarfs mine as he presses my palm flat against the glass. He bends over to hover his face above my ear.
“So it knows you,” he says, his low tone reverberating.
Cool air washes off him, prickling my bare arms. His hair makes my own charcoaled locks look pale, his eyes so deep they could swallow me.
The mirror shudders, snapping my attention off him.
I try to yank back, but he holds me firm.
The reflection warps, then the whole surface erupts into ripples. He lets go and steps around me, passing through the glass like it’s water.
I stare at my distorted reflection, wide-eyed. I hesitate only a moment longer before I move to follow. The glass offers no resistance. My skin tingles, the world blurs, then I’m through.
The air on the other side is cooler, heavier. I’m at the top of a stone staircase. Faint lights flicker along the walls, casting dancing shadows.
Passing through the mirror was nothing like the dizzying experience with the voidstone, so I assume we are just on the other side of the wall. It’s yet another magical object in Alaris’s possession. Then again, the voidstone doesn’t open the shadowgates, so this is actually the first.
“Quite a trick,” I say, my voice low.
Alaris glances back. “A friend made it. She has a talent for hiding things in plain sight.” He starts down the stairs. “I believe you may have met her at the Somnus celebration in Delvos.”
I stiffen, only one face coming to mind: the blonde who gave me the mask. I hadn’t thought much about her since Somnus.
“Another of your ‘lovers’?” I ask, unable to keep a slight bite out of my tone.
“Not even as a pretense,” he chuckles. “We’re old friends. Her name is Vesper.”
She’s a powerful friend, having made the mask I borrowed and this mirror. A reflection of Delvos’s chaos magic, versus the more commonly talked about prophetic readings.
I follow Alaris down the stairs to a large stone chamber. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but once they do, they widen.
Maps cover the walls. Scrolls lie stacked in neat piles. Racks hold weapons—long swords and spears and bows. Dark armor covered in elegant filigree stands against the far wall.
It’s a war room.
He puts the new map Mirvol delivered on a table and crosses to a chest in the corner. It’s dark wood, bound in brass, with a symbol burned into the lid: an eye pierced with three lines.
One of the symbols of Sophiri, goddess of wisdom, clarity, and memory.
Alaris kneels and opens it. Inside, nestled in velvet, are layers of thin opalescent rings, no larger than a bracelet. Some glow softly, humming with power, while others lie cracked and lifeless. There must be over a dozen—though the majority are already faded, their light burned out.
“When it became clear to me the wither was a serious threat, this is what I invested in.” His voice is quiet. “Do you know what these are?”
I crouch beside him, staring at the rings. “They look familiar,” I admit.
“Oraculi,” he says. “Scrying tools. They can show the truth, but the more hidden, unknown, or guarded, the more power it takes.”
The word stirs something in me. “Oraculi,” I murmur. Then it clicks. “I’ve seen one before. My father had one. Given to him as a gift.”
A gift. I don’t know why I chose that word. It wasn’t a gift—it was a trophy. Proof from Captain Orso that he had captured the traitors who’d held it. He delivered the oraculi alongside their heads.
“Ah.” Alaris smirks. “And did it work?”
“No. How did you know that?” My father tried to use it in front of the court to rewatch the traitors’ deaths, but it fizzled out when he looked through it, and he smashed it on the marble.
“Quite a few factions ensure these break before they ever reach the emperor. If he raised one to his eye and asked who wished him ill, he would see more faces than mine.” He picks up one of the broken rings, turning it in his fingers.
“I’ve burned most of them out asking the same question, over and over. ”
“And what was the question?”
“The cause of the wither.” He tosses the cracked ring back into the pile. “The answer was always the same: the endless summer at the center.” His dark eyes find mine. “The only way to stop it is for the emperor to stop using his power.”
And my father won’t stop. Alaris doesn’t have to tell me that.
My fingers hover over the oraculi. Each one of these is worth a public execution. Yet they’re stacked in the chest like cheap bangles. The lifeless outnumber the glowing by three to one.
I suck air in through my teeth.
“Which means if you really want to stop this,” Alaris says gently, “you’ll have to help me kill him. Are you sure that’s something you can live with?”
Can I really help kill my father?
I stand and turn my back. I walk away from the chest, pretending to examine a map on the wall.
I’ve never even thought about the emperor dying. He’s ancient. He’ll outlive all of us. He’s more a force than a man, more a stranger than a father, and an absolutely ruthless leader. But ruthless or not…can I do it? Can I help end my own blood?
Right or wrong, only two things rise up in me at the thought of his death: fear of getting caught and put to the pyre, and fear for my siblings and their children. If ignarian power is to blame, killing the emperor could easily turn into wiping out the whole line.
We’re not close, but I don’t want my family members to die. Even if I hope I never see Jasper again, and I wouldn’t mind if he suffered a little, I don’t want him dead.
“I can live with it,” I say, clearing my throat. “But if overuse of the flame is the problem…my family…”
“Only your father needs to die,” Alaris says. “However, his fall will cause turmoil. I can’t guarantee their safety.”
I look over my shoulder. “Sounds like no matter what you do, no one’s safety is guaranteed.”
“No. It’s not.” He observes me another moment, perhaps waiting to see if I’ll change my mind.
I always thought of that look in his eye as calm, but now I realize there is weight in those shadowed depths. He’s carrying an impossible plot to save a continent.
And it does sound impossible.
I drift to the table where he left Mirvol’s papers. “My father has ruled for three thousand years. Armies have marched on the Citadel. Assassins have snuck in.” I drag a finger along the map. “It always ends the same way, in the Crimson Square. What makes you think you’ll be the exception?”
“I can kill him.” His voice is sure. “That’s the smaller problem.”
I scoff. “Really?”
“Really. The oraculi didn’t just show me the emperor.”
He rises and joins me at the table. He shuffles through layers of papers, until his fingers land on a sketch. He hands it to me.
It’s a black and white drawing of a man standing before a massive chalice of fire, the flames rising three times his height.
“The Eternal Flame.” Ignar’s power given form, the way my father keeps the land warm and the summer endless without wielding magic constantly.
It burns in a chamber deep beneath the throne room.
I’ve never seen it, but I was brought before it in my mother’s belly for a blessing to become a sun-strong child.
Alaris nods. “Even after your father’s death, it will continue burning. It will drive the wither on. To truly end this, we have to kill the emperor and extinguish the Flame.”
“Impossible.” I already used that word, but now it feels like I used it too soon. “It’s in the most protected part of the palace, behind a door that only my father can open.”
“I know.”
I squeeze the paper and start pacing back and forth. “And even if you could get to it…the Flame is like a sun. It’s so hot, my father doesn’t use his power to keep it burning. He uses his power to contain it, so it doesn’t incinerate the palace.”
At least it’s a fact that divinials, even first generation, can die. But the Flame? I’m not sure that it can be put out.
“So you don’t think a sprinkle of rain will do the trick?”
I give him a look.
“Ly, I’ve been planning this for a long time. Have a little faith.” He eases the drawing from my grip. “The issue is getting close enough. I have spies working on ways in, but I must admit, a princess stepping into our midst could prove incredibly useful.”
His pause is an unspoken question. As if he still thinks I might run.
I let one corner of my mouth twitch up, then nod. “I guess it’s a good thing I came back then.”
“It is.” His eyes gleam. “Tomorrow, I’ll have you start to review our intel. For now, it’s quite late. Your rooms have been cleaned.”
“I still have rooms?” My smile quirks up higher. “I can stay in the aviary…”
“Ly.” Now he fixes me with a look. “If you go back there tonight, I’ll tear it down.”
“But the hawks…!”
“They’ll agree with me.” He starts for the staircase. “Now come.”
I roll my eyes but follow. After last night, and the ride, I’m exhausted. A real bed does sound nice. And another bath, maybe, although nothing could compare to my last one.
He pauses at the top of the steps, the back of the mirror’s outline glowing on the stone in faint purple.
“We don’t speak of this outside my rooms or my office. Only discuss it with Dashol or Karns.”
I nod. I haven’t forgotten that Drina could be around any corner.
“One more thing,” he says. “Karns will need to change your job description, so no one questions your increased visits to my wing. Let’s assign you to…
” He considers for a moment. “Cartography. Using the hawks to collect reports and update the maps of my territory. That will explain the ink on your hands when you work on maps of the Citadel.”
I giggle.
His lips lift, his eyes on my mouth. “What’s funny?”
“One day I’m a princess. Then a governess. Then a hawk keeper. Now a cartographer.”
“Ah. It’s clear your skills were wasted at the palace. The world is just beginning to uncover them.”
“And just how much more is there to uncover?”
“A lot, I think.” His sly smile grows as he leans in close. “Although if you ever turn back to thievery, let me know. I’ll want to hide my valuables.”
The faint purple glow catches on his brow, his cheekbones, the hair framing his face. My fingers twitch against my thigh. I grip my skirts before they can reach for the curl hanging across his eye.
The exhaustion must be getting to me. I blink slowly, swaying.
“Come,” he mutters, and leads me back through the mirror.
He walks me through the castle, only pausing to mutter something to a maid.
My steps drag. I should be panicking about joining a doomed rebellion, helping to kill my father, or the future of my family if we succeed. But all I can focus on is his broad shoulders, guiding me back to my bed.
He stops in front of my room. I open the door to find it just as I left it, the bed freshly made. A steaming cup of soup and black-salted bread are waiting for me on the table.
I realize now how long it’s been since I’ve eaten. He must have asked the maid for the food.
“Meet Dashol in my office tomorrow morning,” Alaris says, against the doorframe. “He’ll help you get started on the maps.”
“Dashol? Not you?”
He shakes his head. “I have to leave before first light. I’ll be gone two days. Maybe three.”
My eyebrows pull together in a silent question.
He leans close to my ear, static running over my skin. “Reconnaissance mission,” he whispers.
“Dangerous?” I whisper back, as soon as I find my words.
He shakes his head once. “Just a visit to my cousin,” he says at his ordinary volume. “I’ll look forward to your progress on those maps.”
I want to ask more about where he’s going and why, but I’m not supposed to speak of the plan outside his rooms. “I understand. I’ll see you in a few days, Alaris.”
He dips his head. “Until then, Ly.”
I eat quickly and drag myself to bed. After nights sleeping in the aviary, I should sink into the mattress. Instead, I lie awake.
Why do I feel like running back into the hallway and begging him not to go?
Alaris’s shadowgates are my exit plan, but I only have to wait a few days. I’ve gone all this time without.
So why do I feel this sense of foreboding at the idea he won’t be here when I wake up?