Page 77 of The Twisted Throne

Ahnna snorted. “I don’t believe that nonsense.”

As James blinked, he saw the leaves at the bottom of the teacup. Sawdeathwritten in them.

“Who killed her?”

He twitched, it seeming as though she’d read his thoughts. “Pardon?”

“Your mother. Who killed her? Because everyone seems to believe it was Alexandra, and that makes little sense to me because your father would have executed her for it, no?”

He exhaled slowly, trying to calm his madly racing heart. “He’s never been able to prove the identity of the culprit. If he had, they’d be dead.”

Lightning flickered in the distance, and Ahnna mercifully ceased interrogating him and moved to the spiral’s railing, resting her elbows against it, eyeing the thunderstorm. Most people feared the height, but Ahnna leaned over the railing as though she wouldn’t fall but take flight. “I’ve heard about Harendell’s twisters. That they tear through the open plains, destroying everything they touch.”

“This storm will bring only rain,” he said, watching the clouds. “It’s not warm enough for twisters. Or at least, it’s unlikely.”

“Have you seen them?”

“Many times,” he said. “It’s said that the Sky Palace was built in mimicry of them.”

Ahnna leaned so far over the railing, he almost lunged to grab the back of her dress. “Yes,” she said. “The spiral. I see it now.”

“If a twister comes, the only place safe from them is underground. They follow you.”

“They sound sentient.”

His mouth twisted. “Careful. That’s what they say in Cardiff. That the storms are demigods that find their way to earth to punish the God worshipers.”

“That’s interesting, given that in Ithicana, we say the storms protect us from those who’d do us harm. It was a typhoon that spared Eranahl from Silas’s fleet.”

He was still angry from her line of questioning, and that anger made him say, “We heard it was Lara who slayed Silas in a duel, ending the battle. They say Lara is the savior of Ithicana.”

“That’s what they say,” Ahnna repeated, her tone suggesting his barb had struck true, though he didn’t feel any satisfaction in one-upping her.

But before he could say anything to temper the jab, the sound of running feet caught his attention. A sweating soldier rounded the spiral behind them, breathing hard as he panted out, “Major General, sir. We’ve just received word that a mob has imprisoned a woman in Marickshire under the accusation of astromancy. Her husband is born and bred Harendellian, and he claims that the accusations are false. He’s begged aid from the crown, but the mob is already building the pyre.”

James grimaced. The small hamlet was at least an hour’s gallop away. He’d never make it in time. But he had to try.

Inclining his head to Ahnna, he said, “If you would excuse me, I must attend to this.”

“They don’t mean to burn her, do they?” she demanded. “Without trial?”

“That is the way of it.” The words came out from between his teeth. “Though as her husband is Harendellian, I have an obligation to interfere until certainty of her offense might be obtained. Enjoy the rest of your day, my lady.”

Not giving her a chance to answer, James turned on his heel. The moment he was out of sight, the howl of the wind in the spiral drowning out all noise, he broke into a run.

Neither of her guards hadoffered much in the way of information about the situation in Marickshire, beyond that intervention required an individual of a certain rank, both men seeming to be of the opinion that no one should intervene at all. So Ahnna immediately went to her rooms and summoned Hazel.

“Hazel,” she said the moment the slender woman entered her rooms, “I was with James when his presence was requested to intervene on behalf of a woman accused of practicing astromancy. It sounded to me as though the mob intended to burn her without trial.”

“A trial is not required,” Hazel answered. “Astromancy is illegal, and civilians are encouraged to take action against practitioners.”

“An accusation is enough? Do the accusers not need to provide proof before they burn women alive?”

“If someone has been accused, there is proof,” Hazel said curtly. “Astromancy is illegal, immoral, and abhorrent in the eyes of the true faith. It is not worth His Highness’s time, though he may goto the scene to ensure no further violence results. Oftentimes, the accused’s associates will attempt to free them.”

She’d thought James’s swift reaction had been motivated by the desire to prevent the burning, but Hazel’s words cast that into doubt. “Is this a frequent occurrence?”

“Too common by far.” Hazel’s eyes searched hers with uncharacteristic boldness. “It is the reason the border between Harendell and Cardiff is closed. To prevent Cardiffians from coming into Harendell and forcing our people to take action against them. But they covet our land and gold, so they sneak across and attempt to blend in. I’m sure the clever ones abandon their ungodly practices and survive by blending in, but some insist on holding to their ways. This is the result.”

---