“Group of minor lords passing through Eset—they spotted me.” Surakwel made a beeline for the tea, helping himself to an extra cup. “I told them I’m meeting a friend, which is surely less suspicious than skulking around in the corridor by myself.” He regarded the two women expectantly from beneath a fringe of shaggy brown hair. “So what were we talking about?”
Vela appeared severely unimpressed by this new development, but she wasted no more time once she and Talasyn had joined Surakwel at the table. “Repairs and modifications on our vessels here in the Dominion are going slowly,” she told them. “It’s no easy task synthesizing Nenavarene with Sardovian tech, but we’re getting there.”
“It’s not enough,” Talasyn said quietly. “We need the Huktera fleet, but the Dominion court will revolt if Queen Urduja outright breaks the treaty with Kesath for a venture with such an uncertain outcome. We’ll need numbers on our side to convince them. We need more allies.”
“Precisely. Which is why I’ve started sending envoys to other nations again,” Vela told her. “My best spies and politicians, who can be counted on to infiltrate discreetly and broker deals with the right people, those who won’t rat us out to Kesath. Of course, they’re at a disadvantage because we can’t reveal where we’re hiding, but it’s worth a shot. And they have time, considering that we can’t make our move untilafterthe Moonless Dark.”
“Isn’t it dangerous, though?” Talasyn asked. “If Queen Urduja finds out …”
“Nothing about this is safe.” Vela sipped her tea sparingly. “But I think there’s a reason why the Nenavarene no longer patrol the waters southwest of the Storm God’s Eye. I think your grandmother fully expects me to use this time to rally sympathetic nations to the Sardovian cause so that she can use the additional troops as leverage to convince her court to go to war.” She gave Talasyn a searching look over the porcelain rim of her cup. “You need to use this time wisely as well. Along with your new role.”
Surakwel had thus far been showing proper Nenavarene male deference in letting the women speak without interruption, but at the mention of Talasyn’s “new role,” he cried out, “How can youstandit, Lachis’ka? Being married to that—that figurehead of all evil—”
“It’s because of Talasyn’s marriage into the Night Empire that we might actually be able to liberate the Continent from it,” Vela reminded him.
“Still!” Surakwel rounded on Talasyn. “Aren’t you ever tempted to drive a blade through Alaric Ossinast’s heart while he lies in your bed?”
“In my defense,” said Talasyn, “he’s only ever lain in my bed once.”Before I kicked him out of it, after we did something that I swear I will never tell another living soul.“But I’ll let you know where we’re at with the stabbing in due time.”
The breeze picked up, stirring the edges of their cloaks and the gauzy curtains that framed the window. Eset’s sea of weathervanes spun frantically as the black clouds that had been haunting the sky all afternoon made good on their promise and a heavy rain came pouring down, water on water, the lake churning around the stilts that held the city above it.
“You leave for Kesath tomorrow, don’t you, Lachis’ka?” said Surakwel.
“Yes,” Talasyn replied. “There’s a storm coming. It will be a rough journey in this weather.”
“A storm indeed.” Vela stared out over the lake. Whatever stared back at her—whatever she saw in the charcoal swirl of waves and lightning—made her draw a breath.
“After the Moonless Dark, Talasyn,” she repeated. “Be ready.”
Talasyn could only nod. The waters of Eset boiled within their banks and a cold wind swept through her heart.
CHAPTERTHREE
He was wearing his mask when they met again.
Talasyn descended the ramp of the diplomatic schooner that had borne her from Kesath’s shoreline to its capital city, then stopped to look around. They were high up on one of the docks that spiraled from the Citadel’s control tower in long strips, like the arms of an octopus. The coolness of the spring air lanced through her bones, a foreign sensation after her long absence from the Northwest Continent.
She had only ever seen the Citadel in maps before. A few years ago, in a fit of desperation, Ideth Vela and the rest of the Sardovian Allfold’s War Council had toyed with the idea of rescuing their soldiers from its prisons, but they’d nixed any such plans when it became clear what they would be up against.
Now that she was walking above the Citadel with her grandmother, her father, her lady-in-waiting Jie, and their royal guards, the Lachis-dalo, Talasyn could understand why Vela had changed her mind.
This was one great military stronghold rather than a living, breathing city. A series of starkly cut stone buildings andbare courtyards were tucked away behind thick walls lined with sentry towers and ballista platforms. Unlike Nenavarene settlements, where the skies were filled with ships cutting one another off and racing for prime spots on landing grids, here sleek vessels bearing House Ossinast’s chimera on their sails drifted through the air at a sedate pace, in carefully controlled lanes. Beyond the walls was nothing but barren fields and stormship hangars, stretching onward to the horizon.
“Haven’t been here five minutes and I’m already depressed,” Jie grumbled as she, along with the rest of the Nenavarene delegation, trailed after Talasyn.
“Be quiet,” Queen Urduja hissed. Talasyn heard Prince Elagbi chuckle before he, too, was shushed by his mother.
In all honesty, Talasyn was inclined to agree with her lady-in-waiting, but Alaric’s tall, broad figure, standing stock-still a few feet away to receive her, demanded all of her attention. He was in his battle regalia: spiked pauldrons and clawed gauntlets, chainmail tunic and belted cuirass, a mix of black like night and crimson like blood. Strands of wavy dark hair fell across his pale brow. His gray eyes regarded her blankly above the obsidian half-mask bearing a carven design of snarling wolf’s teeth.
Behind him were Sevraim and two identically armored figures. The Shadowforged twins. The Thing and the Other Thing, as she called them in the privacy of her head.
Talasyn had no idea what Alaric was thinking as she crossed the distance between them on legs that she had to will to remain steady. It felt as though the walkway, built of metal grids that stretched high above the city that was not a city, threatened to shatter with every step she took.
When she came to a stop in front of him, he inched closer until she was forced to look up to see his face.
“Lachis’ka,” he murmured.
It had been a fortnight since she’d last heard his voice. Time had not in the least diminished its effect on her. Those deep, rich tones of honey mead and oak, lent a muffled, smoky quality by his mask, sent an unwelcome thrill somersaulting through her stomach.