Page 53 of A Court of Masks and Roses
My name, my true name, rides Trace’s voice into the center of my chest. I know I should tell him never to use it, but I can’t. So I do the next best thing—feign deafness and keep walking.
“Bahir is a mage,” Trace says into my back. “Someone who manipulates magic directly. And he is the only mage on the whole bloody continent.”
I freeze. “How—”
“It doesn’t matter how I know. I do. The point is, I think your reaction to Bahir’s ring was a reaction to his magic. Justas you reacted to the healing crystal’s magic. This makes you a threat to his secret.”
A puzzle piece clicks into place. “Which is why he had Viva Sylthia target Lianna,” I say.
“Yes.” Trace catches up to me, his voice dropping. “So if you won’t go to Everett for your safety, then go to discover what your relationship to magic is. Find out whether you pose more danger to Bahir than comes from just knowing his secret.”
28
VIOLET
Behind the heavy curtain of King Firehorn’s study, Violet’s heart fluttered like a butterfly. The air hung heavy with heat and dust and the familiar staleness of aged velvet. Violet took a steadying breath and pressed herself into the deep windowsill. She was getting a bit large for her nook now, but perhaps that was all right. The Goddess had been preparing her for this moment for a long time, teaching her how to hide and listen. How to put her invisibility and unimportance to good use.
The men on the other side of the curtain resumed speaking on the heels of silence. And it was the Goddess’s own hand, Violet was certain, that guided her to take out the memory crystalnow.Reaching into her pocket with a trembling hand, Violet pulled out the precious pouch Brother Joshua had entrusted her with and peeled back the cloth to expose the crystal in time for Firehorn’s first words.
“What would it take?” The ghost of surrender in the king’svoice chilled Violet’s bones. “For you to stay, for the war to end?”
A pause. Long, pregnant, and devastating.
“Sylthia,” Envoy Jajack said steadily. “All of it, including the few acres that Everett did not conquer in the original assault. Dansil will surrender all claims to the territory and its resources, stop any attempt to regain the lands, and officially announce that Sylthia is forever a province of Everett.”
“That isn’t a negotiation,” Firehorn barked. “That’s—”
“It’s a price,” the envoy said coolly. “Reparations for allowing Viva Sylthia terror mongers to thrive under your reign, to kill Prince Rune and assault Princess Raza in the midst of a ceasefire.”
“Stars. Do you realize what you are asking, Jajack?”
Jajack’s voice softened. “Political statements aside, this is far from a bad offer, Firehorn. With the rise of the Order of the Goddess in Dansil, your people use so few living crystals that, frankly, purchasing what you need would be cheaper and safer than mining it yourselves in Sylthia. The black powder used in the mines kills the workers as often as not. Dansil needs fresh blood; it needs its soldiers and miners home, working fields and raising families. You’ve not the people to spare to fight for a slab of land that Dansil has no use for.”
Violet’s stomach tightened at Jajack’s honeyed words. How conveniently the man failed to mention the Dark God guiding Everett’s hand in expanding his domain. And the punishment Dansil would endure for allowing evil to thrive.
Firehorn drew a sharp breath. “Bastard,” he spat. “Sylthia isourland, Jajack. You invaded.”
“Sylthiawasyour land until we conquered it twenty years ago.” Jajack’s unapologetic voice is firm but not altogether unkind. “Now it is ours.”
“Then let us split it,” said Firehorn.
“No.”
Violet’s small hand around the memory stone became slippery with sweat. On the other side of the curtain, atap tap tapof pacing footsteps, then a creak of wood taking weight. A familiar sound. Violet’s birth father settling into his favorite, aged chair.
“What you must decide, Firehorn,” Envoy Jajack continued, “is how much more pain you are willing to inflict on Dansil to continue to deny reality.”
Firehorn’s answer, when it finally came, was barely a whisper. “Viva Sylthia wants Sylthia returned to Dansil. If I announce that I’ve given up the struggle for the territory altogether, Viva will raze my cities.”
“It’s that bad?” asked Jajack.
“Yes.”
A slow release of breath. “In that case, I can commit to a peacekeeping force from Everett. Soldiers who would come under your command and protect Dansil from unrest. We can have them in place before the announcement.”
No,Violet wanted to shout.You know nothing of what you say. Sylthia and its crystals belong to the Goddess.
But Firehorn did not know he was negotiating with the Dark God himself. So instead of running from the room, the king chuckled without humor. “And what assurance do I have that these peacekeepers, once allowed into the heart of Dansil, will not decide to put an Everett flag on my palace?”
