Ambassador Usan needed to delay the coronation, or everything would be ruined. His king’s army wasn’t close enough yet! Just a few more hours, and they’d be in position. If Prince Dar were executed and Lady Nori crowned before they arrived . . . the Becaran military could be redeployed to defend the capital city, and the invasion could fail. He’d never imagined the Becarans would act so quickly.
My timing should have been perfect!
He’d been right about the riots. They’d begun as soon as the races ended, and the spectators he’d paid to escalate any conflict had done their job admirably. It had blossomed into full-fledged chaos, with violence spilling out into the streets and across the city, as perfectly as if he’d orchestrated it all. Which he’d done. Mostly. He hadn’t been the one to strike the spark, but he had been the one in position to take advantage.
The city was supposed to be distracted by the riots. They weren’t supposed to crown a new empress. He hadn’t counted on Lady Nori working so effectively and efficiently in coordination the high augurs, and that was a grave error. It’s her fault, he thought. And mine, for underestimating her. Plastering a smile on his face, he swept into Lady Nori’s chambers, escorted by her family’s guards. “Your Excellence-to-Be.” He bowed.
Lady Nori was seated on a velvet chair so ornate it resembled a throne. Usan was positive that was intentional. Lady Nori knew how to play this game. She’d project an air of competence and sorrow as she claimed power. Oh, she’s good. Make a show of reluctance, of only doing her duty. But his spies had reported conversations between her and the high augurs prior to the arrest of the emperor-to-be. He had no proof, of course, but he had little doubt that she was involved. If only he’d realized the significance of those meetings sooner . . . But he hadn’t. That’s on me. So he swallowed his pride and said grandly, “I offer the congratulations of my king.”
“All is not resolved yet.” Lady Nori gestured with an elegant hand toward the window, where the sounds of chaos in the streets still drifted in. The city guards had called on any available soldiers, the few who were already assigned to the city, to aid with subduing the citizens, but there was still the sound of shouts and screams. He normally would have been pleased about this. Fracturing the city’s defenses was excellent, leaving the city wide open for the Raniran army. “But I will accept your congratulations, as well as your fealty.”
“As ambassador, I cannot swear my allegiance to a foreign—”
“Usan,” Lady Nori purred. “We both know you have been acting far beyond the limits of an ordinary ambassador. I will have your oath, or I will have you arrested for attempting to ignite a war.”
He then saw how disastrous his mistake of timing was. He’d counted on more days between the riots and the crowning of a new emperor. Plenty of time for his king to swoop in and establish rule. As it was, Usan was alone, with the Raniran army too far away to help him. Not only was his plan in jeopardy, but his life was as well.
He dropped to his knees. “All I want is to go home.”
“This will be your home,” Lady Nori said with a smile.
He was to be a prisoner then, forced to divulge whatever Raniran secrets they thought he held. He saw his future stretching out bleakly before him. How had she moved so fast to outmaneuver him? She must have been planning this for some time, perhaps since Emperor Zarin’s death. Or before. He wondered if she’d had a hand in his death as well. At this point, it wouldn’t have surprised him.
There was, as he saw it, only one option left to him. He’d lost his chance to go home, but perhaps he hadn’t yet lost his chance to complete his mission. He could still ensure that Becar was ripe for the plucking when his love arrived within his king’s army.
Bowing his head, he crossed his arms as if intending to swear fealty. Instead he used the movement to draw a small knife from within his tunic.
Rising from her throne-like chair, Lady Nori approached him to receive his oath.
He sprang up and buried the knife in her heart.
Her eyes flew open.
The guards sprang at him, tossing him onto the ground and pinning him down. He heard one of them calling for a healer, who would arrive too late. It’s all about timing, he thought. The healer would be too late, and now his army would be right on time.
The Becarans would never be able to unite to choose a new emperor or empress by sundown.
I win, he thought, as the guards bound his hands, arresting him.
Lady Evara had planned to march directly to the palace when she left the kehok stable, but that proved to be impossible. The rioting had spread beyond the racetrack and through the streets of the city. Fires had broken out in several shops, and she was forced to shelter in an alleyway as a shouting mob stomped by.
“Now how do I reach the palace?” Lady Evara asked herself.
Luckily, she was always her own best resource. She spotted a column of palace soldiers marching through the street. Excellent, she thought. They’ll do nicely.
Lady Evara scurried out of the alley, then straightened her hat, grateful she’d worn one so ridiculous that it identified her as an obvious aristocrat, and strode beside the column. “Thank you for the escort,” she told the nearest soldier.
He shot her a look, but since she was dressed as a noble and was unarmed, he did not object. She walked with them to the gates of the palace, and then she swept forward to present herself to the guard. She schooled herself to ignore the way her heart thumped hard in her chest.
“Lady Evara,” she said in her most imperious tone. “I must have an audience with the emperor-to-be as quickly as possible. I come on urgent matters.”
“You come too late,” the guard informed her. “Prince Dar has been arrested on charges of high treason for the murder of Emperor Zarin.”
For once, Lady Evara was speechless.
Dismissing her, the guard inspected the soldiers, admitting them into the palace.
All right. This . . . changes things. Lady Evara prided herself on being able to quickly grasp a situation.
Either Prince Dar had indeed murdered his brother and sent his soul into a kehok, or the high augurs had orchestrated the murder and were seeking to hide their guilt by framing Prince Dar. Either way, she possessed dangerous knowledge. Only a few knew that the black lion held Emperor Zarin’s soul. If anyone found out that she was one of those few . . . If Prince Dar were guilty, she’d be branded a traitor for keeping his secret, potentially condemned to suffer the same fate. And if the high augurs were secretly evil, they’d seek to silence her. Her wealth would be the least of her worries.
I should flee.
It was the obvious choice.
Sell whatever possessions she could, and start a new life somewhere else in Becar. Or even outside of Becar. There were lovely lands beyond the desert, if she could scrape up enough gold to buy passage on one of the trade caravans. She was simply not in the position to make enemies as powerful as the ones involved in this game.
Her parents would have expected her to, as the lesser Becarans would say, cut bait and run. She was used to looking out for herself. After all, no one else would.
But . . . But . . .
What if Prince Dar were innocent?
Augur Yorbel would have known if he wasn’t. She was certain of that.
Which meant the high augurs were not innocent. And she was in possession of information that could help expose them, if she were willing to use it, thus potentially freeing all of Becar from the influence of duplicitous murderers.
That, of course, meant not fleeing and instead choosing to endanger herself.
Ironically, she wished she had an augur to consult about this moral dilemma.
No one is going to help me make this choice, she thought.
Maybe there was a way to protect herself and do the right thing, if she played this correctly. She’d have to handle it carefully . . . Yes, she could do it.
Plopping herself back in front of the guard, she said imperiously, “I need to see Lord Petalo on a matter of utmost importance.”
Others were clamoring for the harried guard’s attention. He glanced again at her, at her ridiculous hat, and waved her through. Quickly, before he could change his mind, she hurried through the arch and up the steps. Her heart felt as if it were pattering faster than a kehok could run. She tried to keep her expression smooth and walk without running toward the heart of the palace, the vast courtyards where the aristocrats commonly gathered. She then settled herself and strode through the court.
Everything was in chaos.
Some of the lords and ladies were weeping, collapsed in an undignified manner beside the statues. A few wounded soldiers were being treated out in the open. Lifting her skirts to increase her mobility, Lady Evara hurried through. She passed a clot of guards in the hallways and heard whispers: a lady had been murdered. Lady Nori.
But Lady Nori wasn’t her concern. She had one goal: the mustached blackmailer.
It took her far longer than she would have liked to locate Lord Petalo. He was in an office, hiding bravely from the riots and chaos of the court by barricading himself behind a door and a layer of servants. “Announce me,” she told a servant. “And tell him I have news that will profit him.”
After a few moments, she was permitted into the office. Steeling herself, she swept inside.
He was seated at his desk, his papers arranged as if this were an ordinary day he’d devoted to paperwork, instead of a day when the city was falling apart. She noticed, though, that the windows behind him were shuttered and barred. Plus, his glorious mustache was slightly less coiffed. It drooped instead of curled.
“You surprise me, Lady Evara. I didn’t think you would dare show your face here, in my office. You know we had an agreement, and you did not follow through. The lion not only lives, but he won.”
“Mmm, a few other events have occurred since then. You may be aware?”
He snorted. “I’m aware of everything.”
She doubted that. But she knew that as a gambler, he was considered to be an expert on the Becaran Races. And she was certain that every other member of the palace court knew that as well. They’d expect him to know every detail of the racers he bet on and to be privy to the most exclusive information. Such as a the nugget she was about to share. “I have discovered that the kehok who won the Becaran Races bears none other than the soul of the late emperor Zarin. That is why Prince Dar obtained him.”
He gawked at her, which was satisfying.
“You know this . . . how?”
“The augur who purchased him from me confided in me, before Prince Dar’s arrest.”
He shook his head. “Not possible. Emperor Zarin was a good man.”
“He was,” she agreed. “Which is why it took an artifact that functions as the opposite of a victory charm to influence his rebirth. As you may have heard, the high augurs used it on Emperor Zarin when they murdered him.”
“You can’t possibly believe that nonsense your rider spouted.”
“If you doubt that an augur can be corrupt, then tell me: Who told you that I’d failed to meet the stipulation in my parents’ will? Only the augurs and I knew.” It was a risk. She couldn’t be certain that the augurs were to blame. But it seemed likely. If the augurs were behind all the murder attempts, it explained quite a bit.
“I cannot reveal my sources.” But his mustache twitched.
“Then let me reveal what I know: Emperor Zarin was murdered and reborn as a kehok. You tried to blackmail me into killing the kehok so that this fact would never be discovered. Which means that you were in on the plot. Either you were working with Prince Dar to help hide his crime, or you were working with the high augurs to hide theirs.”
“But—but I wasn’t!”
“Of course you weren’t.” She flounced into a chair and spread her skirts wide, as if she planned to stay for a while. “You and I both know that you couldn’t have afforded to pay me the amount you promised. You were working for someone. Your ‘sources.’ But the people of Becar don’t know that. They’ll blame you.”
His eyes bulged as the implications of what she was saying sunk in. “It was Lady Nori. Her idea. Her information, obtained from the augurs.”
“What a pity she’s dead and can’t confirm or deny that.”
He was sweating. “She’s . . .”
“Oh my, Lord Petalo,” Lady Evara mocked. “I thought you were aware of everything!”
“Are you trying to blackmail me? I already have info on you—”
She gasped as if offended. “I wouldn’t dream of spreading unsavory rumors about you! Unless, of course, you were to spread unsavory ones about me . . . But truly, there’s no need for us to threaten each other. I have come to you with a gift of information.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What do you want from me?”
Goodness, he was dense.
“Spread the truth as widely as you can, as quickly as you can.” She smiled at him, knowing the power of her smile. She’d charmed much more intelligent men than Lord Petalo before. “You’re a clever, resourceful man. You have connections throughout both the court and the racing community, which makes you the perfect mouthpiece for such news . . .” She trailed off, letting her request sink in, along with the compliments.
His eyes widened, as if understanding were blossoming. “Ah, so you are giving me this information, in exchange for my secrecy about your personal situation?”
She was fine with him thinking that was the reason. Even her own parents hadn’t been capable of seeing anything virtuous in her.
“It’s a win for you,” Lady Evara promised. “Reveal the truth about the kehok-emperor. Expose the fact that Lady Nori tried to have him killed, at the bequest of the high augurs or in coordination with the high augurs. Let people draw the obvious conclusions they wish, and you become blameless.”
He was nodding. “Lady Nori was supposedly present when the high augurs arrested Prince Dar. She could have orchestrated all of it.”
“If you expose her crimes, you’ll be a hero.”
He liked that. She could tell.
She smiled encouragingly as he began to pace and plan. A person who could provide information like that would be valued. He’d curry favor with whomever stepped forward to fill the power void. He suddenly frowned. “But . . . proof? What proof do I have?”
“This isn’t a trial,” Lady Evara pointed out. “This is a riot. You don’t need proof. You only need gossip. I’m sure you know the right ears to whisper into.”
“I do!”
“Right now, people are hungry for facts, whether they’re true or not. Feed that hunger, and they will be grateful to you.” She laid a hand on his arm. “As am I.”
“And I am grateful to you, Lady Evara. You did indeed have news that will profit me. I will forget our prior conversations ever happened.”
Calling to his servants, he scurried out of his chambers. She surveyed the room and spotted a fat pouch hastily shoved between tunics. She lifted it out and checked its contents: gold coins. Glancing at the open doorway, Lady Evara pocketed it.
If everything went wrong, she was not going to be penniless.
She then sailed out of the room with an aristocratic nod to the guards. Before giving up and fleeing with a stolen pouch of coins, though, she was going to do what she could to make sure that nothing more went wrong—At least not for me.
She wasn’t going to make any bets on the fate of Becar itself.
In his cell within the augur temple, Dar despaired.
He sat on a bare cot. Through the one tiny slit of a window, he could see the sky, a mottled orange and rose—it was near sundown, the time when Zarin’s vessel should have been killed so he could be reborn. It had been such a good plan, he thought.
But he realized now he’d never had a chance. The high augurs had always had all the power, and today they’d proved that. He could almost admire how thoroughly they had outmaneuvered first his brother and then himself, and no one had ever suspected them. Until Raia.
He wondered if the high augurs had caught her yet. He didn’t doubt she was on their list, as one who knew the truth. It was too dangerous to leave her be. She may be publicly executed as well, accused of high treason, or it could be done quietly. The augurs might not even have to sully their own hands. Certainly they had enough gold to ensure it happened.
How could he have misjudged them so badly? All of Becar had. Everyone trusted the augurs, completely and absolutely, to guide them toward the right and good. But all the while . . . And now the people would never know the truth. Lady Nori would be crowned empress, and Zarin and Dar would be forgotten, intentionally, as an embarrassing disaster that they’d escaped.
What he didn’t understand was why. But he doubted anyone would explain that to him.
He wished he’d had a chance to talk more with Zarin. He would have liked to say goodbye. And Raia . . . He’d never met anyone as brave as her. He knew what had happened with her parents, and how she’d gone on to race and win.
There were a thousand things he wished he’d said or done. Alone in a room with stone walls, he thought through them all. If I had a second chance, I wouldn’t let so many moments pass me by. I’d say what I felt. And do what I thought was right.
But he’d used up all his chances.
His fate was sealed. No one was more powerful than the high augurs.
He wondered what he’d come back as.