Page 42 of The Hurricane Wars

Alaric could feel a vein in the hollow beneath his left eye start to twitch, as it always did when he was about to lose his temper. Trying not to appear too obvious about it, he inhaled slowly, and when next he spoke, it was in steady tones. “Your fellow soldiers?” he repeated. “If you still consider yourself Sardovian, my lady, then these negotiations are a waste of time and effort.”

He watched her lips press into a taut line. She looked so angry that it wouldn’t have been a surprise if she’d started levitating. When she didn’t say anything, he continued, “Even if I were spineless enough to apologize for military actionsundertaken during a time of war, I would hardly do so at the behest of a temperamentalchild. We made the crossing in the hopes of coming to terms and avoiding yet another blood-soaked conflict, but if the notion offends your sensibilities so much, Lachis’ka, all you have to do is say the word and I will see you again on the battlefield.”

In the stony silence that ensued, Queen Urduja leaned forward in her seat, immediately drawing everyone’s attention. “I believe that tensions are too high to facilitate any sort of agreement presently. May I suggest that we put this meeting on hold?” Based on her demeanor, this was more of a command. “We can resume negotiations tomorrow, when we have all gotten suitably used to one another. In line with this, the Kesathese delegation is more than welcome to stay here in the palace, where they will be treated as honored guests.”

Lueve’s pleasant composure had faltered during Alaric and Talasyn’s verbal duel—in fact, it had appeared as if she were having a heart attack when Talasyn called the Night Emperor an ass—but, now that her sovereign had stepped in, the chief negotiator was quick to gather her bearings. “Yes, Harlikaan, I believe that would be ideal,” she said smoothly. “We shall adjourn for now.”

Kai Gitab had held his peace all throughout the meeting. In Talasyn’s experience, the rajan was a shrewd and extremely calculating man who dispensed words as reluctantly as a miser parted with their coins. Once the Kesathese delegation had left the room, however, he turned to Urduja. “Begging your pardon, Harlikaan, but I am not sure that it is prudent to let the Night Empire have the run of the Roof of Heaven while a formal treaty has yet to be drafted.”

“I am quite certain that Ossinast won’t slaughter us in our beds,” Urduja said dryly, “althoughsomepeople appear to be rather set on persuading him to do that.”

Talasyn bristled as her grandmother shot her a pointed glare. Before she could defend her actions, however, Niamha piped up, drawing everyone’s attention, “More of that sort of thing might prove beneficial to our side. The Night Emperor strikes me as the type of man who is very difficult to rattle. Somehow, though, the Lachis’ka rattles him. I was watching him closely earlier. It seems that he can do a remarkable job of keeping a level head until prolonged interaction with Her Grace.”

“We just really hate each other, that’s all,” Talasyn mumbled, embarrassed.

“Hate is a kind of passion, is it not?” Niamha countered.

“I’m—Passion?” Talasyn echoed in a squawk, a hot blush suffusing her cheeks. “There’s no— What are youtalkingabout—I can’t stand the sight of him and the feeling is mutual!”

Niamha and Lueve observed her with varying degrees of amusement. “It would seem,” Niamha remarked with a faint grin, “that Her Grace still has much to learn about the ways of men.”

Elagbi clapped his hands over his ears, which made Lueve Rasmey burst into peals of melodious laughter. “Perhaps we should stop teasing the Lachis’ka,” she quipped. “I doubt that Prince Elagbi’s tender paternal heart can take much more.”

“Yes, well, before he starts weeping all over the place”—Urduja narrowed her eyes at Talasyn, who stiffened upon realizing that she wasn’t off the hook just yet—“I cannot stress this enough, Alunsina. If Kesath hadn’t gotten their hands on void magic, we might have stood a chance. As it is, however, they’ve already wounded one of our dragons. The Night Empire is only willing to negotiate because they don’t want to expend resources any more than we do, and it is your duty to ensure that theyremainwilling. If you fail, the consequences will be dire for all of us. Govern your pride, Your Grace—or, at the very least, be smarter about how you cling to it.”

The Kesathese delegation had an entire wing of the palace to itself. A large bronze door in Alaric’s chambers opened out into an orchid garden with a miniature waterfall, bisected by two stone paths. One led from his door to a westward hallway, while the other met the first path at its terminus and linked up with what appeared to be someone else’s suite of rooms in the opposite wing, judging from the canopy bed that he glimpsed through a gap in the curtains on the other side of the garden.

Such luxury was not without its price. There were sariman cages affixed to the walls and pillars at seven-meter intervals, shutting off the Shadowgate, making it impossible to speak to his father in the In-Between. And there was also the fact that the pleasant garden view was ruined by Commodore Mathire, who was trampling all over the neatly trimmed grass with pacing footsteps.

“I don’t care what the Lightweaverorthat old hag said, thishasto be a trick.” Mathire was obviously still smarting from her gaffe in the council room. Her face was pale with fury.

“First of all, Urduja Silim ishardlya hag,” Sevraim pointed out from where he sat beside Alaric on a stone bench, “and, secondly, that’s the Night Emperor’s grandmother-in-law you’re talking about.”

“Prospectivegrandmother-in-law,” Alaric corrected. “A prospect that seems to be diminishing with each passing second.”

“To your very great sorrow, I’m sure, Your Majesty.” Sevraim uttered this with enough sarcasm to make it sound like a joke, but notquiteenough to disguise the shred of curiosity that lay within. He was studying Alaric with a look that verged onknowing, although Alaric didn’t have the slightest idea what Sevraim thought he knew. “I cannot believe that the Lightweaver and the Lachis’ka have turned out to be the same person. All those months spent looking for Talasyn and she was here all along. It’s—”

“A trick!” Mathire repeated hotly. “A ploy orchestrated by Ideth Vela!” She stopped pacing in front of Alaric, squaring her shoulders in determination. “Your Majesty, we are well within our rights to demand proof that there is no collusion going on. We cannot gamble the security of our empire, especially when the Nenavarene have a reputation for being less than forthright. All we have is the Lightweaver’s word that she fled here after the war, but that begs the question as to whoelsecould have fled here with her. If I may be so bold as to insist—Kesathmustbe allowed to search Dominion territory, to determine for ourselves that they don’t have the Sardovian fleet tucked away somewhere within their shores.”

“We can make that requestafterwe’ve hammered out the terms of the marriage contract,” Alaric conceded. “That way, the negotiations will be over and done with and it will be less critical to abstain from offending Nenavar.”

“And if we turn up no evidence of Sardovia, Your Majesty, do you mean to go through with it?” Sevraim asked. “Will you marry a sworn foe?”

Alaric would rather eat glass shards, but his father’s words were at the forefront of his mind. Of course, there was every chance that Gaheris would sing a different tune upon learning the identity of the Lachis’ka. As of now, though...

“I will do what I must,” was Alaric’s stoic reply, “for the sake of the Night Empire.”

Chapter Seventeen

Talasyn was in a terrible mood. She’d tried to sneak out of the palace, only to discover much to her chagrin that security measures had been tightened due to the Kesathese presence. Before any of the increased number of guards could notice the Lachis’ka skulking around, she crept back to her chambers and then into the garden beyond, frustration curling low in her gut. The Sardovians needed to be informed of this new development as soon as possible. She needed Vela’s advice on how best to proceed.

This particular garden section of the Roof of Heaven lay open to the sky, allowing copious amounts of moonlight to come spilling down over the grass and the orchids and the artificial waterfall that tumbled into a dark, rippling pool. The combined illumination of the stars and the seven moons was almost a soft, shadowed daytime.

Standing in the middle of the garden, Talasyn tipped her face up to the pulsating celestial mazes and took slow, deep breaths. Perhaps the perfumed scent of the flowers and the gentle burble of water and the cool evening air would help her regain inner peace.

As she watched, the night sky shimmered with a haze ofdeep amethyst light. The Voidfell’s lone nexus point, located in the crater of a dead volcano on the Dominion’s centermost island, was discharging.

Talasyn remained as curious about void magic as she’d been when she first encountered it. While she’d been briefed on most aspects of life here in Nenavar, she’d been told very little about this amethyst dimension of aetherspace. She knew only that it was more malleable than other dimensions, that it could be folded into small aether hearts and still retain its properties as a weapon. Hence, the muskets—and she could only be glad that Kesath didn’t appear to be producingthoseyet.

---