Twenty-Nine

Safire stared into the gray fog, her heart in her throat.

“No one could survive that fall,” Raif said from beside her, the frown on his brow deepening. “We’re five stories up.”

Eris can, she thought. Or maybe it was more like hoped.

Because suddenly, in Eris’s absence, things seemed murkier than ever.

As Raif told one of the other soldiers to go check the gardens below, the empress herself arrived. Her naval uniform had been replaced by a gown of the same shade that was fitted to her torso, then fell in shimmering waves from her waist to the floor, revealing a silver underlayer at the bottom that frothed like waves.

“What happened here?” Her voice was cold and commanding.

Raif looked to Safire, clearly wondering the same thing.

“Your fugitive was here,” she said. “Disguised as one of your soldiers.”

Every pair of eyes was on her now. Safire burned beneath their gazes.

“She jumped off that balcony just a moment ago,” added Raif.

Leandra’s eyes narrowed on Safire.

“She was here—on this balcony—with you?” Her voice was edged with accusation. “How long were you two alone for?”

Safire swallowed, trying to stave off the heat sweeping through her at those words.

“Perhaps she was under threat,” said Dax, moving their attention to himself. Safire didn’t know how long he’d been there, but his eyes remained fixed on her.

He was giving her a way out.

“She had a knife to my back,” Safire told him. “If I’d called for help, she would have thrust it in.”

She didn’t really believe that. She only said it because it might curb the skepticism in the empress’s eyes.

“So she forced you out here,” said Leandra. Her lips thinned and her jaw stiffened. “She came, she singled you out, she isolated you. For what purpose?”

Safire forced herself to meet the empress’s gaze. “She came to turn me against you.” This was pure truth. “She said you’re the one who made the deal with Captain Jemsin. That it’s you who wants the Namsara.”

Leandra tilted her head, her gaze locked on Safire’s. “And what, exactly, would I want her for?”

Safire shook her head. “She didn’t say. But it’s nonsensical. He’s a vicious pirate. And seeing as you just executed Kor and his crew, you don’t seem fond of pirates.”

From the corner of her eye, Safire saw Dax turn his head, puzzled by this news.

“And,” Safire went on, “why would you make a deal with a pirate when you could just invite Asha to your citadel?”

But you did invite her, thought Safire. And Asha declined the invitation.

And in their conversation earlier, Leandra seemed eager to send her soldiers out searching for Asha—but that was because she was in danger of being hunted by Eris.

Neither fact was proof of anything, though. All Safire had was Eris’s word. And that, she knew, was useless.

There was movement from behind the empress as Caspian stepped up beside her. “There’s no body,” he informed her. “She must have survived.”

Safire felt the hard knots inside her—knots she hadn’t even known were there—loosen at this news.

“That’s impossible,” said Raif, shaking his head, staring down into the mist below once more.

Before Safire could join Dax, the empress stopped her.

“If she comes to you again, don’t detain her. Don’t call for help.” Leandra’s gaze bore into Safire, as if it was just the two of them alone on that balcony. As if the others didn’t exist. “The next time she seeks you out, I want you to kill her. Is that understood?”

Safire held that stormy gaze. “Understood.”

The word was like ash in her mouth.