The Spirit War

CHAPTER 17

Josef gasped as the dark washed over him. This was true dark, not just lightless, but light consuming, and so cold he felt it like a punch all over his body. He couldn’t hear anything, but he could feel the darkness screaming, vibrating against his skin. Panic like he’d never felt began to close over him like a sheet of ice, and he began to sink. The darkness sucked him down like a hungry mouth, screaming and laughing at the same time. Josef couldn’t even move to defend himself, all he could do was sink and wait as the darkness poured down his throat, eating everything it touched.

Just before he was consumed, Nico’s arms tightened on his chest, pulling him back. All at once, the sinking stopped, and his limbs were free. The feeling of motion was so beautiful, Josef almost laughed with joy. Instead, he clung to the familiar realness of Nico’s wiry body with everything he had.

In less than three heartbeats, the light returned.

Josef fell to the ground, clutching his chest. He felt heavy and weak, like he’d been laid up with fever for weeks, and cold like he would never be warm again. He could feel Nico’s hands on him. Her voice was in his ear, asking if he was all right. Josef nodded and reached for the hilt of his sword. The Heart leaped into his hand, and the weakness began to fade. When he was sure he could stand, Josef pushed himself up and looked around.

He recognized the place at once. They were in the hall that ran through the center of the royal guard’s headquarters at the top of the palace. They’d come out next to the barracks door, but the barracks were empty. So was the hall. Josef’s stomach began to sink. This was the heart of the guard. Given the current crisis, it should be crawling with soldiers as the reserves reported in, but the floor was silent. His face set in a grim line, Josef drew the Heart. He turned the sword in his hand, testing the grip in his palm. An echo of power flowed back like a greeting. Josef held the sword close as he tugged open the door to the stairs leading up to the watchtower. Nico fell in behind him, skipping from shadow to shadow.

The stair was a narrow spiral ending at a heavy door that was usually guarded and locked. But there were no guards now, and the heavy door hung open a crack, as though someone had just stepped inside and forgotten to close it. Pressing his body flat against the wall, Josef reached out with his sword, opening the door with the Heart’s blade.

Even though he knew it was coming, the sight of the watchtower stopped him in his tracks. Men lay sprawled on the floor, their white faces still wide with shock above their severed necks. Josef took a quick count. Fifteen bodies, all guardsmen, far too many for the small tower. Josef set his jaw and raised his eyes to the only figure still standing.

Adela stood beside the table where the Council wizard lay slumped in his chair. Her helmet was off, and the dark braid of her hair hung free down her back, which was turned to Josef. For a moment, Josef thought maybe they’d snuck up on her, but before the thought could even finish, Adela turned to face him with a warm smile.

“I told you one day we’d be done pretending.���

Josef cursed. No point in hiding now. “Adela,” he said, stepping fully into the doorway. “Stand down.”

“Little late for that, husband,” Adela said. Her hand moved, and Josef raised his sword, but she wasn’t drawing a weapon. Instead, she held up something small, round, and blue between her fingers.

“What’s that?” Josef said with a sinking feeling.

Adela’s smile widened, and she clenched her hand in a fist. There was a sharp crunch, like an eggshell breaking, and then she opened her hand again, letting broken glass and a tiny amount of water fall to the floor.

“It was a Relay point,” she said, shaking the last drops of water from her fingers. “The last Relay point in Osera.”

Josef stared at her, trying to put words to everything that was going through his mind. But he wasn’t Eli. Words didn’t come easily. In the end, he managed only one.

“Why?”

“Because it is my duty,” Adela said calmly. “And because I have waited my entire life for the day when I could leave this miserable dirt scratch of a kingdom.”

“Duty?” Josef roared. “The queen raised you up from nothing! Defended you and your mother when everyone else wanted you cast out. She made you an Eisenlowe, captain of her guard, and this is how you repay her?” He swung his sword over the dead soldiers. “You have a twisted sense of duty, princess.”

“And what of that matters to me?” Adela sneered. “I serve a higher power than you could ever imagine.” Her voice grew deep and resonant as she spoke, and her eyes lit with a fire Josef had never seen there before. “There is no loyalty except loyalty to the true queen of the world,” she said. “No duty except in her service.”

Josef was beginning to wonder if she might be truly mad. “What are you talking about?”

Adela reached down and drew her short sword with a metallic hiss. Josef braced himself, but she didn’t point the blade at him. Instead, she held the sword in front of her with the flat side facing him. Josef was so busy trying to guess her ploy, he didn’t see the words etched into the metal for several seconds.

Sleepers wake. I am coming.

Josef’s eyes darted from sword to swordswoman. “Who is coming?”

“Who do you think?” Adela laughed, swinging her sword until the point was leveled at the eastern window.

Josef kept his eyes on her, but she made no other moves. Finally, he risked a glance. He had to glance twice before he realized what he was looking at. There, miles out on the line where the Unseen Sea met the sky, the horizon was peppered with tiny dots running north and south as far as he could see.

“Oh yes,” Adela said as the realization broke over his face. “The Immortal Empress is here at last to finish what she started two and a half decades ago.” She brought her sword back around, aiming the point at Josef’s heart. “We are the sleepers,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. “For years we’ve worked to weaken this island in her name. Now, your country, divided and hollowed by our hands, shall break like rotten fruit when her boats strike the shore.”

“That’s impossible,” Josef said, forcing himself to ignore the rapturous smile on her face and keep his eyes on her sword. “You weren’t even born when the Empress invaded.”

Adela lifted her chin with a haughty sneer. “Loyalty to the Immortal Empress is not constrained by time. Our duty is passed down from mother to child, for generations if need be. We who sleep are called the ever faithful, all of us waiting generation to generation for the day she calls our blade.”

“Loyalty?” Josef shouted. “Faithfulness? You betrayed your country and your queen! You killed your own men, and for what? Loyalty to an Empress you’ve never met?”

“Yes,” Adela said, holding her short sword steady. “And I will be rewarded in ways you cannot comprehend.”

“Not if I can help it,” Josef growled. “Nico, go tell the admiral I have our traitor.”

Nico didn’t even get a chance to respond before Adela started to laugh.

“Go ahead, little girl, it doesn’t matter now. Your kingdom is broken, your queen dying and alone. Her duke, the only man who could have rallied Osera, is dead. Your army is terrified and without leadership, your clingfire, the only weapon against the palace ships, destroyed. And since both Relay points are gone, you can’t even use what little time remains to warn your allies. Now do you understand, prince? Send your girl, it will do no good. Osera has already fallen.”

Josef glowered. “I never picked you for a fool, Adela,” he said. “But I guess I was wrong about that too. Only a fool counts a battle won while the defenders are still standing.”

Adela smirked at him. “Not for long.”

Behind him, Josef felt Nico tense, ready to jump through the shadows and land on Adela’s back. He stopped her with one word.

“Go.”

Nico snarled at Adela one last time and vanished into the dark. If Adela was surprised by this, her face didn’t show it.

“Quite the little monster you’ve got there, Thereson,” she said. “Are you sure it was wise to send her away?”

“Yes,” he said. “I’m the prince of Osera. It’s my duty to finish you myself.”

“Duty? You?” Adela laughed with delight. “The murderer prince who ran away?” She paused. “Actually, you were the only variable. When Theresa gambled the treasury to bring you home, we never thought you’d actually come home. But I’m glad you did, husband. Having the marriage bed for an alibi gave me more freedom to move than I could have hoped for, and your presence made my mother’s job easier. The queen gets herself very excited when you’re around. Such exertion makes it so much easier to explain her worsening fits.”

Josef’s eyes widened. “My mother’s not sick at all, is she?” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “You’ve been poisoning her.”

Adela shrugged. “Hard to say, at this point. After close to ten years of drinking my mother’s tea, Theresa’s condition has become quite real. I doubt she’ll last out the week, especially once she hears that her son, her last, ridiculous hope, finally gave in to his violent nature and had to be put down like a mad dog.”

“If that’s how you see this playing out, you haven’t been paying attention,” Josef said, raising the Heart as he stepped into position. “I may not be much of a prince, but I am the best and, unless you surrender now, the last swordsman you will ever meet.”

“We’ll see about that,” Adela said, stepping into first position.

Josef looked her over. His instincts during the proving had been right. The stance Adela took now had none of the stiffness from before, and her fingers gripped her sword with a master’s assurance. But even so, even if she somehow was a master duelist, there was no way she could hope to beat the Heart of War with an infantry short sword.

He glanced down at the Heart. It was a pity to use it for a fight like this, but he didn’t have the luxury of a handicap. He needed to end this quickly and warn his mother. If he moved fast enough, he might even be able to save her. Josef gripped the Heart with both hands, sliding his feet forward across the stone. Finish it fast, he thought. Finish it now.

The Heart hummed in agreement, and they moved as one, bearing down on Adela like an iron wave. The princess’s eyes widened at his speed, but she didn’t try to dodge or spin away as she had in the Proving. Instead, she lifted her short, stocky blade and braced for the Heart’s impact. The short sword looked so pathetic before the Heart’s monstrous weight, Josef almost laughed. But Adela didn’t break her guard, even as the Heart struck her sword with the force of a mountain.

The two blades met with a scream of metal, and Josef watched in satisfaction as the short sword crumpled. He could feel the impact moving through her blade like the Heart was an extension of his own arm, but as he stepped in for the follow-through that would shatter Adela’s ribs, he realized something was wrong.

The short sword was still breaking. The metal was still folding in on itself, still crumpling like ash as it absorbed the Heart’s strike. Josef’s eyes widened. He could feel the blow spoiling even as he carried it, feel himself slowing as Adela slid backward, letting her sword break and break and break, drinking in the blow. Before the force could fade completely, Josef abandoned the strike. He swung the Heart back and turned midstep, using the last of his spoiled momentum to step out of her range, coming to a stop a few feet away with the Heart between him and Adela as he tried to figure out what had just happened.

Adela straightened with a smile and raised her sword, holding up the crumpled blade for Josef to see. Josef didn’t see how there had been enough metal in the sword to crumple as much as it had, let alone enough to absorb the enormous power of the Heart. He was still trying to make sense of it when Adela’s sword began to change. The etched words on the blade flashed with blinding light, and the crumpled blade began to straighten. The metal moved like a living thing as it pushed out of the stocky, confined shape of the short sword, growing longer, sharper, and slightly curved. The whole process took no more than a handful of seconds, and then Adela was holding a sword that looked nothing like the one she’d held a moment ago. The new blade glowed with a light of its own. It was delicate and straight now, without a single mark from the crumpled mess it had been moments before. Even the handle had changed, pushing out of the squat single hilt to a two-handed hold with a thick guard chased all around with stylized waves that seemed to dance across the glowing steel.

Josef kept his face neutral, refusing to let her see his surprise. “An awakened blade,” he said. “Are you a wizard as well as a traitor and a spy?”

“I could scarcely be a sleeper if I was a wizard,” Adela answered, swinging her newly changed sword in a whistling arc. “Wizards attract attention. To serve the Empress, we must be invisible. But this blade is not the crude, half-alert spirit you people call ‘awakened.’ Like me, it is a servant of the Empress.” She held the sword out for him. “What you see before you is one of the Hundred Conquerors, a treasure of the Empire given only to those who serve behind enemy lines.”

“Really?” Josef played along. “What’s it made of that it crumples like trash when struck? Tin?”

“Steel,” Adela said. “A mile of steel compressed into a blade by the Empress’s own hand.”

This time, Josef couldn’t hide his surprise. “A mile of steel?” he cried. “How can a mile of steel become a blade?”

“All things bow before the Empress,” Adela said. “Metal is no different. It followed her command as everything does, becoming her soldier, just as I am. The Hundred Conquerors have served thousands of soldiers in countless battles, passing from sleeper to sleeper as the Empress conquers the world. Each sword has been trained over hundreds of years to follow pressure commands so that even the spirit deaf can use it to its full potential. This blade cannot be defeated, it cannot be escaped, and, as you just saw, it cannot be broken.” Her eyes flashed with a cruel light. “Not even by the Heart of War.”

Josef’s mouth twitched. After all her revelations, he shouldn’t be surprised she knew his sword. But… “If you think a mile of steel will be enough to save you from the Heart, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Adela sneered, but whatever she meant to say, she never got the chance. Josef was already flying toward her. This time, he kept both hands on the Heart’s hilt, letting the blade guide him. He could feel the Heart’s spirit moving through him, filling him until he could see the mountain behind his eyes, the great peak cutting the clouds, the deep roots holding up the world. An awakened blade was nothing. A mile of steel was nothing. The Heart of War moved with a mountain’s rage, and Josef gave himself to it, letting its strength take him over with a furious cry.

Again, Adela raised her blade to parry, but her smug look faded as the blades collided. As before, her glowing sword crumpled, the metal folding over on itself so fast it sparked, but this time, it wasn’t enough. Josef’s cry became a roar as the Heart’s power thundered through him, forcing Adela and her collapsing sword backward. They crashed together into the wall of the watchtower with an explosion that carried them through the stone and out into the air. As the blow finally left him, so did the overwhelming will of the Heart, and Josef realized he was falling. In front of him, almost lost in the enormous cloud of dust and broken stone, Adela was falling as well, her face a mask of shock and horror as the last of the Heart’s force ran through her crumpled blade to finally hit her body. As he felt the strike connect at last, Josef got one final glimpse of her face screwing up in pain before the blow sent her flying out of the dust cloud like an arrow.

Josef was still trying to see where she’d gone when he crashed into something hard and brittle. He grunted as he hit and rolled on instinct. The landing hurt far less than it should have. The echo of the Heart’s power was still crashing through him, drowning out every other sensation. He’d joined with his sword before, but never like that. The black blade had moved not with him, but through him. Its power was his power, its will, his will, and as it began to drain away, Josef felt emptier than ever. But as he lay still and fought to steady himself, the Heart’s hilt pressed against his hands, warning him that the fight was not over.

Like a man waking from a deep sleep, Josef shot up and the world returned. He was in a crater on the roof of the palace’s western wing. The watchtower, what was left of it, loomed above him. Its entire north face was gone, the stone sundered by the force of the Heart’s blow. There were great holes in the tile roofs of the stylish buildings around the castle where the blown-out chunks of the broken tower had landed, but Josef’s eyes skipped over them, looking for his target.

Adela lay in the ruins of what had been the top floor of the most prestigious bank in Osera, her body cradled by a great wave of shining steel. The metal moved as he watched, throwing off the rubble, and Josef cursed as it lifted Adela to her feet. When she was steady, the metal retreated, flowing back into the shape of the long, curved sword.

She shook her head, as though trying to clear it, and Josef started to grin. Challenge the Heart, would she? But the weakness lasted less than a second. At once, her head snapped up, her eyes finding him instantly among the wreckage. Josef got to his feet, watching to see what she would do. Even after cutting through a mile of steel and the wall of the watchtower, the Heart’s blow had been enough to throw her far. It was a long jump from the wrecked bank where she stood to the palace roof. He planted his feet, easing the Heart in his hands as he waited to see how she would handle it, but Adela made no move to close the distance. Instead, she raised her sword, pointing the tip at Josef’s chest in challenge.

Smirking, Josef held up the Heart in answer, his mouth opening to taunt her into a wild charge.

He never got a chance. The moment he moved the Heart, the tip of Adela’s silver blade shot out. It flew like an arrow, cutting through the air with a screaming whistle. By the time Josef realized what was happening, it was nearly too late. With no time to duck, he defended the only way he could. He raised his sword and flipped it, holding the Heart’s broadside like a shield over his chest. For a split second, it looked like this would work, but then the tip of Adela’s blade flickered, and the sliver shot forked left in midair. There was no time to adjust, no time for Josef to do anything but brace himself as the sword point slipped around the Heart’s defense and stabbed through his left shoulder.

It happened so quickly, there wasn’t even any pain. One moment he was braced, the next a length of shining steel pierced his shoulder like a spit through a roast. He could feel the metal in his muscle, slick and burning hot from the expansion. He was still staring dumbly at it when the blade began to lift. Across the expanse, Adela was raising her sword, lifting Josef up until his feet were dangling.

Now it hurt. Every centimeter she raised him sent a new bolt of pain sharp enough to make his vision go dark radiating from his shoulder. He struggled because he felt he should, but it was a futile effort. Her sword had skewered him like a speared boar. He couldn’t even slide himself off the blade. All he could do was grip the Heart as Adela lifted him farther and farther into the air like he weighed nothing.

Just when Josef was sure his arm was going to rip off, Adela flicked her wrist. The sword snapped in a mirror of the motion, slinging Josef off the end. He was dimly aware of tumbling through the air, but his real attention was on the blinding pain of the sword as it slid out of his body. The agony made him sluggish, too sluggish to do more than tuck his head as Adela’s throw sent him through one of the palace chimneys. The bricks crumbled when he hit, falling on him in a rain of broken stone as he tumbled down the slope of the palace roof until, at last, he hit one of the stone gutters and stopped.

For several moments, all he could do was lie still and try to breathe. His body was seizing up around him, his blood grinding to a halt in his veins. His right arm was a bar of pain, but even though he couldn’t feel his right hand, or form a coherent thought, Josef clung to the Heart instinctively, knowing without knowing that it was his best chance of survival.

As his mind slowly came back to the present, the first thing he heard was the soft hiss of steel as Adela’s sword shrank back to its usual shape. Groaning at the effort, Josef turned his head to see her walk to the edge of the bank’s broken roof and hold out her sword again. He sucked in a breath, bracing for another blow, but her sword was pointed down. The blade extended again with a metallic whine, and he heard the stone shatter as the tip hit the street below. Then, using her sword as a pole, Adela stepped out into the open gulf of air between the bank’s ruined roof and the palace. The sword began to fall at once, carrying her across the gap until she landed neatly on the edge of the palace roof. Her sword retracted the moment her feet were firm, returning to the long, gently curved blade as Adela advanced on Josef.

He sank to the ground, bringing the Heart up as high as he could. The wound in his shoulder burned like a hot poker, but the Heart’s strength was already washing the pain away. He probably could have stood if he’d really tried, but Josef stayed put, watching Adela as she stopped by his feet. Her braid was skewed from the impact earlier, and the wind whipped her long hair across her face as she stood over him, surveying her kill. Her sword shone with harsh light, steam rising off the blade in long tendrils as she planted the point between the tiles and leaned on it like a walking stick.

“Still alive?” she cooed.

That was when Josef struck. He pushed up with his uninjured shoulder, the Heart of War moving in a black flash as he swung straight for Adela’s neck. For a split second, he saw true panic in her eyes, and then her fingers tightened on the hilt of her sword.

The blade responded instantly. It flew out like a silver rope, loping up and back with a scream of steel to hook the Heart’s blade. Josef grunted as the Heart of War jerked in his hands. Had he been standing, he could have held the blow on course, but striking up from the ground and on one injured shoulder, he simply didn’t have the strength. Adela’s sword pulled the Heart’s trajectory off at the last second, flipping the black blade and Josef with it.

Josef cried out as he slammed into the tiled roof for the third time, rolling as he hit in a desperate effort to save his injured shoulder. He ended up on his stomach, but just as he kicked his legs under to get up, Adela’s boot landed on his neck and slammed him down again.

Adela leaned over him, panting wildly as she ground her boot down with all her weight. Josef gritted his teeth and shifted, turning his head so he could see her face. She was glaring down at him with pure, righteous fury. One hand held her sword, its flexible blade still wrapped around the Heart, but her other hand was pressed against her neck, staunching a shallow wound half an inch from her windpipe. Despite the boot grinding into his neck, Josef grinned. She wasn’t quite as fast as she liked to think.

“How are you still alive?” Adela whispered, her voice shaking with rage. “You should be bleeding to death.” Her dark eyes darted to his hands, still gripping the Heart of War with all their might. “I wonder.”

She jerked her fingers along her sword’s hilt. The flexible blade followed the motion, slinging down in a flashing arc. Josef’s eyes widened, and he dropped the Heart a second before the whipped blade would have sliced off his fingers. Adela laughed above him, but Josef had both hands free now. He reached up with his free arm, fingers closing around her boot before he threw her as hard as he could. Adela’s laughter cut off with a strangled cry as she fell, but Josef had already put her out of his mind. Every sense he had was focused on the black blade lying crooked on the tiles. He’d been separated from his sword for only a few seconds, but already the pain was threatening to knock him out. The Heart was all that mattered. If he couldn’t reach it, he was down for good. But as his fingers brushed the hilt, a flash of silver cut him off.

Adela’s sword whistled over his head, landing on the Heart with a whine of cutting metal. Josef snatched his fingers back with a curse as the flexible blade wrapped itself around the Heart like thread around a spindle, and as it wrapped, the blade began to spin, surrounding the Heart in an impenetrable cocoon of whirling steel. The moment the sword was completely covered, Adela flicked her hand like she was cracking a whip and the blade of her sword snapped off, freeing her from the tangle of whirling metal she’d woven around the Heart.

“There,” she said, smiling as the broken length of sword in her hand folded and re-formed until it was a slender, curved blade once again. “Let’s see how well you fight now, Thereson.”

Josef’s eyes flicked back to the Heart. Despite Adela seemingly snapping her blade in two, the cocoon of spinning steel around the Heart was going strong, grinding into the tile below with a whining scream. He crouched on his knees, considering his options. It didn’t take long, since there was only one. Blood soaked his arm, back, and chest, and he was starting to feel light-headed even through the pain. If he was going to do anything other than sit here and bleed to death, he needed the Heart, but there was no way through the spinning coil of Adela’s blade. Not without losing a hand, or worse.

Josef gritted his teeth with a growl of frustration. “That’s a very annoying weapon you have there, Dela. Does your Empress fight all her battles so cheaply, or am I the exception?”

“The Empress fights for victory,” Adela said. “Anything else is merely the conceit of prideful swordsmen.” She tapped his shoulder with her blade, forcing him to turn and face her. “You are defeated, Prince Thereson,” she crowed, beaming down at him. “Your wound is bleeding as it should now that I’ve separated you from that hunk of iron you call a sword. Give up. As it stands, I can still save your life, but you will be dead for certain if you persist in fighting.”

“Why should I give up?” Josef said, sitting back on his heels as he pressed both palms against the hole in his shoulder in a futile attempt to hold in the blood. “You think I believe you’ll let me live? After everything you’ve admitted to me?”

“Of course,” Adela said. “With the duke dead and your mother soon to follow, you are next in line for the throne. If you die here, the succession will be broken completely.”

“What do you care about the succession?” Josef wheezed. It was getting hard to sit straight now. “I’m not about to make you queen, if that’s what you’re after.”

Adela’s lips peeled up in a sneer. “Why would I want to be queen of this pit? Osera is a savage place, even by the standards of this savage, backward continent. To be honest, I don’t think this island is worthy of the Empress’s conquest, but my lady is more forgiving than I am.”

Adela lowered her sword and leaned down, bringing her head to Josef’s level. “The people of Osera are stubborn brutes,” she whispered. “Even without a king, they will throw themselves at the Empress’s soldiers, breaking like waves on the wall of her palace ships until the sea is red with Oseran blood. But there’s no reason the Empress’s coming has to be a massacre. Think, Thereson. If you live, you will become king of Osera with the power to make your people surrender. Since you came home when your mother raised the bounty, I can’t believe you’re as indifferent to your homeland as you pretend. It’s true that nothing you do can save Osera now, but there’s still a chance you can save your people. Pledge your loyalty to the Empress, and she may be merciful.”

Josef stared at her for a moment, and then he started to laugh. Each seize of his chest sent a wave of pain that nearly knocked him out, but he couldn’t stop. “You actually think…” He gasped. “You actually believe Osera would listen to me?”

Adela scowled. “If you don’t like the terms, I can always stand here and watch you die.” She straightened up again, flicking her sword until the point was level with Josef’s throat. “What will it be, Josef Liechten Thereson Eisenlowe? Life for you and your people at my Empress’s mercy, or certain death for every soul on this island? Choose quickly, we’re drawing a crowd.”

Josef glanced down. Sure enough, the square in front of the castle was packed with people. Some were pointing up at the prince and princess; others were simply staring dumbstruck at the cratered roof and shattered buildings. The crowd was entirely citizens, no guards or military, and Josef turned away to focus on the more important matters of Adela’s sword and his bleeding shoulder. But, just before his eyes left the crowd, he caught a pair of familiar faces.

A second later, a cool breeze ruffled Josef’s hair.

“Can’t we go faster?” Nico said, leaning out the carriage window.

Eli clung to his seat for dear life. He’d been making the most of his first nonthieving-related arrest when Nico had come charging out of the shadows by the door and told everyone Adela was their traitor, that she’d killed her own guards and broken the queen’s Relay point, and that Josef was fighting her as they spoke. That was five minutes ago. Now, thanks to a few well-placed scares from Nico and Eli’s quick hand with knots, they were in a requisitioned military cart hurtling over the rutted streets of east Osera toward the palace.

“Any faster and we’d end up flat against a building,” Tesset answered from his perch on the driver’s seat, holding the horses straight as the road veered and dipped. Tesset had come along without being asked, but Eli hadn’t complained, as the Council man had offered to drive. He was starting to regret that decision. Tesset made him nervous. Despite the plunging horses, the man’s expression never changed from interestedly neutral, as though this was all nothing more than a play he hadn’t quite decided he liked yet.

Of course, if this was a play, Eli didn’t like the way the plot was going one bit. Clinging to the vibrating carriage, he glanced up at the rapidly approaching palace. It looked fine from this angle, but they’d heard the enormous crash a few minutes ago. From here, Eli couldn’t see what had caused it, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good. Nothing good ever came of noises that loud.

“We’re turning,” Tesset said. “Hold on.”

The carriage careened sideways, nearly sending Eli and Nico tumbling into the street. Nico was back in her seat a second later. Eli took significantly longer to pull himself upright.

“What was that about?” Eli groaned, clutching his bruised shoulders as he watched the palace fly by on his left. “Stop! The palace is right there.”

“The fight’s on the western wing,” Tesset said. “We’re on the wrong side. If we stop here we’d have to walk through the palace. Better to drive around.”

Eli grimaced. “Just don’t take us into the front square. That’s where every—”

He cut off as Tesset careened the cart again. “Would you stop that?” Eli shouted, holding on for dear life.

If Tesset heard him, he gave no sign. They were darting through the rich neighborhood just below the palace now, weaving in and out of the growing traffic. But as they turned down a street that led to the palace square, Tesset reined the horse to a skidding halt, forcing Nico and Eli to hold on or be thrown.

“Didn’t I tell you?” Eli cried. “Not the square!”

Tesset ignored him and hopped down. Shaking and cursing, Eli followed, leaving the cart and the panting horses standing in the middle of the street. As Eli had predicted, the entrance to the palace square was blocked by a mass of people crawling over each other to see what was happening.

“I told you,” Eli said again, pointing disgustedly at the wall of backs. “We’ll never get through now.”

“What’s the matter, thief?” Tesset said. “Afraid of a little crowd?”

Eli started to tell him exactly what was wrong with that question, but before he could get a word in, Nico and Tesset stepped up to the edge of the crowd and began pushing people out of the way. Fortunately for all involved, the crowd in the square was too preoccupied to care about a little pushing. They were all staring up at the palace roof. Some were pushing toward it, but more were trying to get away. Eli didn’t blame them. The western side of the palace was a wreck. The palace watchtower was half gone, its northern side blown out completely, which explained the boom from earlier. Fallen hunks of stone littered the square and the buildings around it, especially the elegant building at the castle’s northwest corner, which seemed to have lost a large chunk of its roof. Eli was still wondering what could have caused such massive destruction when Nico grabbed his arm and pointed up at the palace roof.

Of course, Eli sighed. Who else?

Josef was on his back on one of the castle gutters with Adela standing over him. Even at this distance, Eli could see it was bad. The stone beneath Josef was dark with blood, and the Heart was nowhere to be seen. Adela’s mouth was moving, but this far away her words were lost in the noise of the crowd and the endless wind.

“It’s a bad position.”

Eli glanced at Tesset, who had stopped pushing the crowd and was now eyeing the battle with professional interest.

“Liechten should be able to take a girl like that,” he continued. “She must have a gimmick, and he must have fallen for it hard if he’s on his back, especially considering how he took Sted. Still, won’t be long if he keeps bleeding like that.”

“Josef will win,” Nico hissed.

“I’m with Nico,” Eli said. “I would be an old man by now if I let myself panic every time I saw Josef at death’s door. He’ll win, I’m sure. Our problem is what comes after.”

Nico shot Eli a furious look. “What do you mean?”

“Listen,” Eli said, dropping his voice.

Nico and Tesset obeyed, falling silent as the noise of the crowd rolled over them.

“Go on, princess!” an old man shouted. “Kill the traitor!”

“Thereson is a murderer!” someone else shouted behind them. “He killed the duke! Avenge Finley!”

“He’s no prince of ours!” a woman cried. “Kill him! Kill the traitor!”

And on and on and on.

“I see what you mean,” Tesset said at last.

“They’re all idiots,” Nico said at the same time. “How dare they—”

“Nico,” Eli’s voice held a sharp warning. Nico glared at him, but shut her mouth. Eli smiled apologetically at Tesset and grabbed Nico’s shoulder, turning her around and leaning down so that their heads were together.

“Listen,” he whispered. “Josef’s going to win this fight, but it’s our duty to make it count.”

Nico nodded. “What have you got in mind?”

“We’re going to clear his name,” Eli said. “But first, I need you to find me a wind.”

Nico gave him a skeptical look, but she didn’t question him. Instead, she looked up, her eyes darting across the sky. “There,” she said, pointing up.

Eli followed her finger with his eyes. “You!” he cried, layering just a hint of power into his voice as his finger shot out, pointing at the same spot in the sky as Nico. “Can I ask a favor?”

He felt immensely stupid yelling at the empty air, but he hid it with a confident smile. Thankfully, a few seconds later, a strong breeze ruffled his hair.

“Good guess,” the wind whispered in his ear. “I’m impressed enough to hear you out, wizard.”

“You’re too kind,” Eli said. “I have a bit of an odd task for you, but I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

His shirt fluttered as the wind turned in a circle. “I’m listening.”

Eli glanced at Nico with a wry smile and launched into his plan. Beside him, Tesset listened with growing interest. By the time the wind agreed and blew away, he was grinning as wide as any of them.

“Never boring with you, is it, Monpress?”

Eli flinched at the mention of his name, but he hid it flawlessly, turning on Tesset with a winning smile.

“I should hope not, Mr. Tesset.”

He would have said more, but Nico smacked his arm and put her finger to her lips. Eli nodded and turned back to Josef, who was still lying on his back looking at Adela, who wasn’t talking anymore. The seconds crawled by, and then, without warning, a great wind picked up around them.

That was his cue. Eli cleared his throat and cupped his hands over his mouth. A small, thin flow of air whistled through his curled fingers. Eli licked his lips as the wind brushed over them and very softly began to speak.

High above the crowd on the palace roof, Josef held Adela’s gaze, his lips pursed in exaggerated consideration as he made a show of thinking her offer over. But his attention was on the wind in his ears and the familiar voice it carried.

“Josef,” Eli’s disembodied voice whispered. “If you can hear me, give a sign.”

Josef shifted his knee, nudging a chunk of broken stone so that it clattered down the roof.

“Good enough,” Eli said. “I’m guessing Adela has come clean as a traitor by now?”

Josef nodded without thinking, and then froze when Adela’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Powers, don’t do that,” Eli hissed in his ear. “Listen, before you roll out whatever you’re planning, I need you to follow my instructions to the letter.”

It took all his willpower not to roll his eyes, but Josef stayed still, listening to Eli’s plan. Adela tilted her head at his silence, obviously growing impatient, but by the time she got mad enough to show it, Josef knew exactly what to do.

“I grow weary of this,” Adela said, edging her sword a little closer to Josef’s neck. “Which will it be, Thereson? Die here and doom your island, or surrender and spare yourself and your people?”

Josef leaned back. “You tell me.”

Adela paused. “What do you mean?”

“This is the day you’ve been preparing for all your life, right?” He jerked his head to the east. “Your Immortal Empress is finally coming, and you’ve dutifully done everything you could to pave the way for her. You killed Duke Finley and his son, poisoned the queen, probably burned the clingfire stock too, now that I think about it. Doesn’t really matter anymore, I guess.”

Adela’s hand tightened on her sword. “What are you playing at?”

“I never play, princess,” Josef said, his voice deadly serious. “It’s no secret I’m a terrible prince to Osera. I don’t even know what’s going on half the time. Now you’re standing there asking me to make decisions about the country’s future?” He shrugged as far as he could with his wound. “How should I know? Traitor or spy or whatever your true colors, the sad truth is you’ve done more as Osera’s princess than I ever did as her prince. This is your moment, Dela, not mine. So you tell me, what should Osera do?”

Adela lowered her sword with an exasperated look. “Leaving his country’s fate to her betrayer? You truly are a terrible prince, Thereson.”

She stabbed her blade point down into the roof and leaned on it, the loose strands of her dark hair blowing wildly in the strong wind. “You want to know the fate I would choose for Osera?” she said, smiling down at him the way she used to when they were kids. “Fine. I want it to burn. All of it. Do you know what it was like, growing up here? You people are barbarians, with your insistence on blood lines and noble houses. My mother grew up in the bosom of the Empire. She told me stories of a perfect land where everyone is judged on merit and loyalty. Where disobedient idiots like you are cast away while people like me become leaders because of our skill, not our birth. People still die of hunger here. Can you believe it? In the Empire there is no war, no famine, no natural disasters. Spirit or a human, everything there is clean, ordered, and perfect, and all the Empress asks in exchange for this perfection is obedience.”

She flung out her arm, pointing at the city below. “You can’t know what it’s like!” she cried in disgust. “To know that paradise exists while you are trapped in this pigsty. But my exile is over.” She grabbed her sword and swung it back toward him with a mad, enraptured smile. “My mother and I have fulfilled our purpose. We have cleared every obstacle that stands in the Empress’s path and offered up this pathetic excuse of a kingdom to her like a peeled grape on a platter. When the Empress arrives, we shall be rewarded beyond anything you can imagine, and when I’m standing at her side, I will look down on the burning shell of Osera, and I will laugh. I will laugh and sing my Empress’s praises while her soldiers slaughter every last one of you ignorant, barbaric savages.”

“Then you’re not sorry,” Josef said, leaning away from the quivering point of her sword. “Not about killing the duke and his son? Or about the years you’ve spent poisoning my mother?”

“Of course not.” Adela laughed, her voice echoing in the wind. “I’d kill Finley again if I could, the pompous bore. And Henry. I can’t tell you how happy I am that the Empress came quickly and I don’t have to waste my life being his queen and bearing his dull-witted children. As for Theresa, she deserves what she got for being so trusting. The only thing I regret is that I had to pretend to lose to you at the Proving, but I intend to remedy that now.” Adela smiled, her sword inching forward to press against the naked skin of his throat. “You should have been smarter, Prince Thereson, than to let your enemy choose your fate.”

“I don’t think so,” Josef said, tilting his head into the wind. “Is that enough?”

“More than enough,” Eli’s voice drifted on the breeze. “We heard the whole thing.”

Adela’s eyes went wide, and she swung around, searching for the source of the voice, but the roof was empty.

“Who’s there?” she shouted. “Show yourself!”

Her only answer was the wind’s low moaning as it swept past her, blowing her voice down over the now completely silent crowd.

“Well,” Josef said, pushing himself up. “If you’ve got all you need, we’ll finish it from here.”

Adela spun back around, bringing her sword right up to the skin beneath Josef’s chin. “What do you mean ‘we’? You are alone! No one can save you!”

Josef didn’t move, not even to flinch away from the blade at his throat. “Wrong, princess. You were the only one who was fighting alone.”

Adela bared her teeth with a snarl and flicked her wrist, sending a wave of steel down her sword that would slice Josef’s neck in two. But before the wave was halfway down the blade, the Heart of War’s spirit exploded open, and the weight of a mountain fell on the palace.