Page 99 of While the Dark Remains
My mouth goes dry. The Prism Master’s oppressive magic is making my head spin.
“And what is your name, sir?” asks Aelia, fearless and angry. “I will give you mine: Aelia Cloelia Naeus, imperial heir of Aerona. I am proceeding over these negotiations on behalf of the empire. Iljaria is not needed here.”
He barely looks at her, his gaze fixed on Kallias. “Iljaria goes where Iljaria wishes. You all are so small, your lives so fleeting, like moths, like worms. You forget the whole of this peninsula belongs to the Iljaria. That our ancestors created the world. That your gods still walk among you.”
Vil gives a cry of outrage at this flagrant heresy. I grab his arm to keep him from lunging at the Prism Master.
“Are you so far above us, then, that you have no name?”
I glance at Ballast in surprise. He stares down the Prism Master with his one eye, unafraid. I can sense the anger beneath his skin, raging and wild, barely contained.
The Prism Master turns his sharp smile on Ballast. “Do you think to challenge me, half blood?”
“Forgive my son,” says Kallias. “I have not yet taught him to respect authority.”
My stomach turns over. I’m going to be sick, andgodsI can’tbreathe.
“We are happy to receive you in Daeros,” Kallias goes on. “Allow us to honor you with a feast and ball tonight. Tomorrow, we will revisit the terms of peace between Daeros and Skaanda presided over by Aerona”—he nods at Aelia—“and Iljaria. Witnessed by myself and my heir, Ballast Vallin, as well as Prince Vilhjalmur and Princess Astridur Sindri of Skaanda.”
The earth is falling out from beneath my feet. No matter what Vil says, the Iljaria being here utterly ruins his plans. There is still more than a month to go before the end of Gods’ Fall and the arrival of the Skaandan army.
“Very well,” says the Prism Master. I find his eyes suddenly fixed on me, like he’s trying, for a moment, to see straight through my skin. Then his gaze returns to Kallias, and I nearly collapse to the floor with relief. “My name is Brandr Eldingar,” he says. “Do not mistake my intentions, Kallias of Daeros. I will attend your dinners and dance your dances, but I am here to reorder the universe according to my will. You will fall in line. Or you will be crushed.”
And the Prism Master turns and stalks from the room, the other Iljaria behind him. Their magic lingers on in the air, even when they are gone.
For a moment silence reigns, Vil and I, Aelia, Ballast, and Kallias all brought to the same level.
Then Kallias curses and slams his fist into Ballast’s jaw. Ballast falls, his gold circlet knocked loose from his head and clattering on the marble. I grab his hands and pull him to his feet again without thinking. It’s a terrible, terrible mistake.
I release him the next second, but Kallias glances between us, a smile on his lips.
Worse, perhaps, is the thundercloud on Vil’s brow.
Chapter Eighteen
Year4200, Month of the Gray Goddess
Daeros—Tenebris
“Do you think he knows?” says Saga quietly, threading strands of rubies into my hair. My gown is red tonight, the skirt stitched with orange and gold to look like fire.
“Knows what?” My thoughts are scattered, useless.
I catch her gaze in my dressing table mirror. She bites her lip, her eyes red from crying. “About Indridi,” she whispers. “She was with us when his company passed us on the road.”
My heart wrenches. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
She finishes with the rubies and sags against the dressing table. I catch her wrist, hold her steady. “It isn’t your fault, Saga.Noneof this is your fault.”
“I shouldn’t have come back here. I shouldn’t have gone to battle, thinking I was invincible. If I hadn’t, Njala and Hilf and Indridi would still be alive. Vil wouldn’t be chasing after some dangerous Iljaria weapon, clamoring to rulesomethingsince the oracle chose me to rule Skaanda. I shouldn’t have—”
“Saga.” I turn from my stool, grab her by both shoulders, and look her square in the eyes. “None of this is your fault,” I repeat. “Noneof it.”
She nods miserably, but I don’t think she believes me. She fights tears the whole time she helps me get dressed, but rallies when Vil appears at our door to escort me to dinner.
He’s dressed all in white, with black gems in his ears, and he’s glittering and beautiful, but I do not want to go with him. He’s clearly still furious about earlier, but I don’t know if his anger is channeled more at the Prism Master or me.
We talk very little on our way to the dining hall.
