The priest’s face creased suddenly, as if he was in pain, and his eyes rolled back into his head. The candle fell from his hand and landed, sputtering, on the stone. Somehow it seemed to flare brighter than before. “The world is broken,” the priest whispered. “The Circles are closed and they cannot get through. They’re trapped in the dark. The sun will be swallowed. Time will end. All will turn to shadows and dust.”
In one swift movement, the priest stepped into the pool and grabbed her arm, hauling her toward him, his strength startling and fierce. Now his eyes met hers, and they blazed with light. “Seek the god. Fulfill your vow. Unlock the doors.”
“Getoffme!” Eda wrenched herself from his grasp. Her skin burned where he’d touched her. “What do you think I’m doing right now? Iamseeking him. Iamfulfilling my vow. What aboutNiren? What about my temple and the Empire?”
The priest shrank into himself again, his eyes dull and blank. He studied her impassively. “You came seeking answers. That is your answer.”
“Will Niren die?” She hated how her voice shook, how the words choked out of her. “Will the gods take her from me? Will she—will she turn into her shadow self?”
“Seek the god,” the priest repeated. “Fulfill your vow.” For one brief moment he brushed his fingers across her forehead and she felt a flare of heat. But then he withdrew his hand and stepped out of the pool, vanishing into the darkness.
Eda slapped the water and it splashed up into her face. It touched her lips and tasted bitter.
Chapter Six
EDA ARRIVED BACK AT THE PALACE JUSTas the sun disappeared over the western horizon. She was dirty and tired and angry, and her hand gods-damnedhurt, blood still slowly seeping from the wound; she hadn’t had time to bandage it properly. She could taste the grit of her long and fruitless ride, feel it caked on her skin. She longed for a bath. Huen take the doddering priest and his cursed riddles to the depths of the earth—she’d wasted nearly an entire day.
A young female attendant met her at the door, obviously flustered. She couldn’t seem to look directly at Eda, twisting her fingers in the loose material of her silk trousers.
“What is it?” Eda snapped, coming up the steps and sweeping past the young attendant. It was cooler inside, the arched halls and marble floors helping to circulate the air and keep the heat at bay. Down the corridor and around a corner, Eda saw a flare of orange—another attendant, lighting a lamp.
The attendant’s eyes found the floor, and her knees started shaking. She mumbled something incoherent.
“Speak clearly to your Empress, girl!”
“Your Barons have been in the council room with the Denlahns all afternoon. They’ve—” Her whole body started shaking. “They’ve signed the treaty,” she whispered.
Eda went cold and, for an instant, shock outweighed her fury. Then she straightened her spine, staring at the quivering attendant and felt her rageburn.“Where is he?”
“Who, Your Imperial Majesty?”
“Baron Rescarin.Where is he?”
“In the dining hall, Majesty. The court has—the court has just sat down to dinner.”
Eda’s fingers coiled tight around the hilt of her dagger, and the girl gasped and scrambled backwards, pressing up against the wall of the corridor. Eda looked at her in disgust. “I’ve not yet stooped to slitting the throats of servant girls, you sniveling creature. You’ve delivered your message. Now get out of my sight.”
The attendent bowed and was gone in the space of a heartbeat.
Eda strode into the dining hall ready to murder Rescarin.
He was sitting on the right hand of her empty seat at the head of the table, the Denlahn ambassador beside him, the prince and princess opposite. An uncorked bottle of what Eda recognized as the late Emperor’s centuries-old vintage lay half empty at Rescarin’s elbow, which shocked her unduly—the Emperor himself had reportedly touched it only once a decade.
Eda swept up to the table and grabbed the bottle, corking it firmly. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, past caring to present an aloof exterior to her Barons.
Rescarin eyed her mildly, lifting his glass in her direction. “Toasting the signing of our treaty with Denlahn, of course, Your Majesty.”
Eda could practically taste her anger. “You have no right to sign a treaty in my name.”
“Oh, not to worry, Your Majesty—we have left the marriage clause up to you, to sign or not, as you wish.” He smiled, smug as the viper he was, and patted her arm like she was still the child whose province he’d snatched up before her parents’ bodies were even cold.
She drew a sharp breath, the rage eating her up from the inside. “No treaty can stand unless it is affixed with the Imperial seal.”
Rescarin swirled the wine around in his glass. She stared at the priceless liquid and imagined it was his blood. “You can affix it in the morning, my dear. But tonight is for celebrating the long overdue cessation of hostilities between our two nations. Have a seat, won’t you? Join us.”
His dark eyes glittered in the candlelight, and Eda was suddenly aware of the other courtiers seated around the table, watching her, waiting to see what she would do.
She glanced at Prince Ileem, who raised one eyebrow, the expression on his smooth face unreadable.
