I balled my fists. “If you’ve hurt him…”
“We endeavored to treat him with the utmost kindness, Your Highness, but the boy put up quite a fight.”
Another lie. “What fight could a thirteen-year-old boy put up against a regiment of trained imperial guards?”
“Look above you,” said Hawar silkily. “Even now, he works potent magic.”
“They’re only birds!” I spat. I faced the sentinels scattered among the crowd. “Does Hawar have you all in his purse? What happened to your loyalty to the imperial family?”
“The sentinels are under oath to protect Kiata before all,” Hawar replied. “Kiata is under threat.”
Takkan grabbed the chief minister by the collar. “Let the princess into the dungeon. Now.”
Caught by surprise, Hawar flailed and swatted his fan at Takkan’s head. “Unhand me at once! At once, Bushi’an Takkan! How dare you? Your father will hear about this! I’ll have the entire court denounce your family—”
Takkan had had enough. He seized the minister’s fan and snapped it in half with one hand. “You’ve already made it clear what you think about my family,” he said icily. “The North is full of brutes and barbarians, you say?” He dropped the broken fan so he could unsheathe his dagger, and he prodded its blade against the wobbling bulge in the minister’s throat. “I’m happy to prove your point. Now let Shiori inside!”
It was the wisest thing I’d ever seen Hawar do: flick his fingers to bid the guards step aside. I barged into the dungeon.
“Where’s the sorcerer?” I demanded. One of the guards pointed to the stairs. I rushed down and found Gen in the first cell to my left.
The boy’s face was bruised and bloodied, his nose broken again. He lay on a bed of straw, his black hair a curly mess. When he saw me, he raised a hand and waved—a greeting and a reassurance that he was alive.
“Here everyone says I have a knack for getting into trouble,” I said, helping him up. “You’re not much better.”
“Trouble follows power,” he mumbled, touching his nose to assess the damage. He groaned. “Damn it, I didn’t get to finish healing, and now the bridge is going to be crooked forever.”
“This isn’t the time to be vain. Can you walk?”
He let out a whimper but nodded.
“That was clever, calling for the birds.” I tried to cheer him up with a grin. “Kiki was impressed.”
“I knew she’d be” was all Gen said.
Outside was pandemonium. While I’d been in the dungeon, Kiki had led the army of birds against Hawar and his men. Eagles and falcons battered the soldiers, and crows were pecking at Hawar’s nose and ears. The chief minister resorted to picking up a wooden bucket from the ground to shield his face as he scurried for an escape.
“They’re only birds,” Kiki said, mimicking what I had told Hawar. Her papery chest puffed up proudly. I don’t think you’ll be able to use that excuse ever again.
“I hope I won’t need to,” I replied, but I patted her head affectionately. “Well done.”
I rather liked leading an army, said Kiki. I might do it again. We could use more wings.
She flitted off right before Benkai and his men arrived. I wished I could stay and listen to my brother reprimand the dungeon guards, but Gen needed help. Ignoring the boy’s protests, Takkan and I took him to the infirmary for bandages, then to Takkan’s chambers for new robes and some rest.
Stacks of books, scrolls, and papers were strewn about the wooden floor, and unwashed writing brushes were scattered all over his desk. I sent my betrothed a curious glance. His rooms in Iro had been obsessively neat.
“I’ve been researching” was Takkan’s sheepish explanation.
“Demons?” asked Gen. He lifted one of the scrolls and skimmed its contents. “Kiata’s knowledge on the matter is woefully out of date.”
“Thankfully, we have you,” I said, plopping onto a cushion.
Gen set down the scroll. “I wasn’t able to get the amulet,” he said finally. “I got close, but then—” He hesitated. The failure was obviously a blow to his pride. “Then I got afraid.”
“Of the sentinels?” asked Takkan.
Gen scoffed. “They hardly noticed me.” His voice dipped. “But Bandur did.”