An Accident of Stars (40 page)

“
Y
ou're
sure we can trust them?” Amenet murmured.

Viya squeezed her hand, watching in resentful awe as a gold-edged portal opened before them. “Not in the slightest,” she said, “but what choice do we have?”

A day ago, her reply might have been more trusting, but that was before Kikra had spoken to Oyako through the dreamscape and blithely reported that Zech had laid claim to the Bharajin Forest. Viya had been furious – not at the loss of territory, which she could well afford to cede, Kena's monarchs having kept it largely to spite Veksh rather than out of any real need or practical use for it – but at the presumption of claiming the deal had already been made. She had
trusted
Zech, and to find herself so betrayed in return – there being no way for Viya to dispute the claim without appearing weak – was unbearable.
I will have vengeance for this,
she thought.
In Ke and Na's name, I promise you that, Zechalia a Kadeja.

Such were her thoughts as the portal widened, revealing their purported allies: Zechalia, Safi and everyone else she'd travelled with from Karavos, the various Shavaktiin, and a quartet of stern-looking Vekshi women, their faces as pale as undercooked bread. Beside her, Amenet tensed, and Viya couldn't blame her. The only reason she'd agreed to Safi's plan in the dreamscape – or at least to the part of it that involved her portalling through to Veksh – was her faith in Zech to keep them safe. At the time, it had been a calculated risk, but now… now, Viya was angry.

“Matu,” Amenet whispered, her grip on Viya's hand tightening.

Inwardly, Viya cursed. She'd been so consumed with the matter of Zech's betrayal that she'd forgotten all about the other bargain she'd struck with Amenet – her promise that Matuhasa idi Naha could become their Vexa'Halat. Just for a moment, she let herself forget her own schemes, and watched as Matu stepped through the portal and bowed to both of them.

“Cuivexa. My lady Amenet,” he said softly.

He was, as he always managed to be regardless of the circumstances, beautiful. His unbound hair gleamed warmly in the sunlight, his face transformed by a soft, shy smile that Viya had never seen before. Beside him, Jeiden bobbed nervously in place, his courtly manners forgotten – assuming he had any to begin within, that is; Viya still wasn't clear on that point – in the face of his master's reunion.

“Rise,” said Amenet, and Matu obliged. He stood like a statue, and when Amenet pulled towards him, Viya didn't protest. She suddenly felt like an interloper, or worse, a voyeur, caught up in some sacred exchange she had no business witnessing. As Amenet put a hand on Matu's arm – as the two of them leaned in close, pressing their foreheads together and murmuring words too quietly even for Viya to catch – she found herself desperately searching for something safe to focus on. She found Jeiden, who was similarly embarrassed; the two of them shared a look, and when he grinned and rolled his eyes, she found herself having to repress a very un-regal giggle. A Cuivexa she might have been, but despite the admiration she felt for Oyako, there were still some few ways in which Viya both enjoyed and acknowledged her youth.

“It seems,” said Matu, when he and Amenet finally pulled apart, “that I'll be staying here for the moment.”

“And me?” asked Jeiden anxiously. “Can I stay here too?”

Amenet smiled at him. “I don't see why not.”

Pix, who until that moment had remained quietly in the background, strode forwards and favoured Matu with a sisterly kick to the ankle, which he endured with only minor complaint.

“Hey!”

“That's quite enough of that,” said Pix. “As happy as I am for you – for both of you–” she added, nodding respectfully at Amenet, “–the portal can't wait all day. There's still Leoden to contend with, and unless you plan on dethroning him through the power of love alone, I suggest you let us get on with it.”

“Far be it from me to stop you,” said Matu. He and Amenet moved to one side, and after a moment, Jeiden followed them. “Be careful,” he added, his tone turned suddenly serious. “Both of you.”

“Of course,” said Viya, and just like that her focus came flooding back.“Together?” asked Pix.

Almost, Viya was tempted to refuse; to stand her ground and keep clear of Veksh forever. But at her back were Kisavet's hand-picked fighters: the small, elite squad whose job it would be to defend Viya from the likely predations of Leoden's guards, men and women who looked to her for strength. She'd come too far to back out now, whatever the justification.

“Together,” she agreed.

The portal sent shivers through her skin, as though she'd been doused with ice water. Emerging on the other side, she found herself in a suitably alien-looking courtyard, full of white grass and whiter women. As the portal slid closed behind them, Zech opened her mouth to speak, presumably in greeting, but Viya found she had no taste for pleasantries.

“Let's get on with it, shall we?” she said, masking her hostility with false cheer. “The Vex'Mara has control of my country. I'd rather like it back.”

And Leoden killed my bloodmother,
she thought, but didn't say.

Though Zech looked slightly thrown by this, she recovered well – an adaptation that Viya admired even as it irked her – and turned towards one of the Vekshi women, speaking to her in their terrible, jawbreaking language.
It sounds like they're swallowing stones
, she thought acidly, but took care to keep the observation from showing on her face.

“Good to see you again, Pixeva,” said Gwen, paying no attention to Zech's conversation.

“And you, Gwen,” said Pix wryly. “You always find a way, don't you?”

“More or less. But I didn't do this. They did.” She nodded to indicate Safi, Zech and Viya in turn – an inclusion which, of all the absurd reactions, made Viya blush. She might have interjected then, but the Vekshi woman had fallen silent.

“Not long ago,” said Zech, switching back to Kenan, “Luy and I checked the palace through the dreamscape. Kadeja, we think, is in her suite; Vex Leoden is in the main audience hall.”

“That could be tricky,” said Viya, after a moment. “He has guards there, lots of them.” Turning, she addressed her captain, a quick, clever-looking man by the name of Rahos. “While I've no doubt that you and your honoured swords would defend me fiercely against any number of assailants, I would prefer to kill as few of the palace guards as possible – they're only following orders. Leoden's arakoi, however, you may consider fair game.” She paused, thinking. “The main audience hall has only two doors. Both would be guarded from the outside, but with fewer troops than are likely to be stationed inside, and both are accessible from the silver foyer.”

“Should we barricade them in, Cuivexa?” Rahos asked.

“I think that would be best,” said Viya. “At least initially. Then we can deal with them later at our leisure. Agreed?” She turned back to Zech, one brow raised as she waited for an answer.

“Sounds sensible to me,” said Safi, when Zech hesitated.

One of the Vekshi women – a queen, Viya assumed – looked her way and started talking. When she'd finished, Zech translated.

“Mesthani a Vekte wishes to know if you require additional Vekshi forces beyond the single jahudemet-user already agreed upon. While she has no desire to see Kenan civilians harmed at Vekshi hands, she suggests it might be more expedient for everyone if the Vex'Mara Kadeja were ousted by Ashasa's Knives alone.”

This time, Viya turned to Pix, gauging the courtier's reaction. Just at that moment, she didn't trust her own feelings towards Veksh to be either rational or impartial. “Pixeva?”

“It might be for the best,” she said, slowly. “That way, her removal won't seem so much a coup as a consequence of her own actions. Of course, there'll be those at court who won't care to make the distinction, but on balance–”

“Of course,” said Viya, gritting her teeth. She'd hoped to avoid more Vekshi involvement than was strictly necessary, but she could see the wisdom in the suggestion, and forced herself to swallow her pride. “Please tell Mesthani a Vekte that Kena is grateful for the aid of both the Council of Queens and Ashasa's Knives. As I understand it, four is a sacred number in Ashasan lore–” Kadeja had whipped her in sets of four and claimed this as the reason, “–so three additional priestesses might be best suited for Kadeja's recapture.”

Turning to Mesthani, Zech relayed this message in Vekshi; a look of surprise crossed the queen's face midway through – presumably, Viya thought, at the idea that a heathen Kenan might know anything of Ashasa – that culminated in a satisfied smile. Raising a hand, she called out something indecipherable and beckoned to several of the red-robed women who'd been lurking ominously in the background. Viya didn't need to be told that these were her priestesses, all of whom were armed with bladed staffs.

Only then, as the priestesses formed up alongside her squad of honoured swords, did Viya realise that the one voice she'd most expected to hear had been absent from the conversation: Yasha hadn't said a word. Finding the silence suspicious, she looked at the matriarch. Yasha's arms were crossed, her sharp gaze fixed on Zech. Though her face was just as inscrutable as ever, there was something both disappointed and calculating in the set of her shoulders, as though she'd been dealt a setback and was still in the process of planning her response. Viya felt an unexpected stab of solidarity; clearly, she wasn't the only one to have been wrongfooted and betrayed by Zech's actions, and for all she'd once disdained the woman, it was oddly comforting to know that Yasha, too, had been fooled.

“We should go,” said Gwen, breaking the silence. “Let's get it over with.”

“Agreed,” said Viya, and raised a brow at Zech. “Shall we?”

Zech lifted her chin – she was always doing that, trying to compensate for her lack of age and height – and just for a moment, the fact of her youth was blinding enough that Viya felt some of her anger melt away. Whatever else she'd done and regardless of who she was, Zechalia a Kadeja, though no longer a child by any reasonable measure, was younger even than Viya. But she was also extraordinary, possessed of a wit and strength that belied her skinny frame, her mottled skin, and made her into something – someone – bigger. She was a queen of Veksh, and, for better or worse, Viya and Amenet had allied themselves with her.Still looking at Viya, Zech said something to Mesthani, who relayed it in turn to the remaining priestesses. There was a rumbling sound, like thunder in the distance, and as one the queens and priestesses began to step back from the group, distancing themselves from what would happen next. Zech, however, moved forwards, standing alone at the centre of the courtyard. Pulling a blade from her belt, she extended her arm and cut herself in the crook of her elbow. Blood welled up, bright as hope, and dripped into the air. Instead of hitting the grass, it hung suspended in space, coagulating into an eerie bead of white light. Zech gasped, as though the breath had been pulled from her lungs, and stumbled into Safi's arms. The light intensified, ripping wider and wider – a burning, gyrating hole in the world – until the portal was wide enough, though barely, for a grown adult to walk through.

Someone screamed; it was one of the jahudemet-wielding priestesses, overwhelmed by the strain of keeping the portal open. She was doubled over, clutching the courtyard wall for support, and suddenly everyone was moving at once.

“Now! Go now!” Yasha bellowed. “They can't hold it for long!”

As if to prove her point, the edge of the portal roped out wildly, a whip of pure magic more lethal than a swordstrike. Viya grit her teeth, refusing to give in to fear.
It's just a door. It's just a door.
But her feet stayed firmly rooted to the earth, and the roar of magic swelled and grew like a thunderstorm.

“Let me go!” yelled Zech, fighting against Safi's hold of her. “It's
burning
, Safi, I need to go! Please!”

But Safi refused. “You know what Kiri said!” she shouted, straining to be heard. “You have to go last – the portal will shut as soon as you pass through it!”

“
Please!
” Zech screamed. “Safi… I can't… I can't hold it–” There were tears streaming down her cheeks, and just like that, Viya found she could move again.

“With me! With me!” she said, and in a single, stubborn rush, she darted through the portal and into Karavos.

G
wen watched
, horrified, as Iviyat vanished from sight. The portal was unstable, its outer edges seething like the coils of an angry snake, and as Pix darted through, the structure wavered dangerously, threatening to take off her head. But Pix, as always, proved stubbornly hard to kill; she dodged the portal-edge with all the grace of a courtier performing a formal dance. Not to be outdone, Viya's guards dashed through in quick succession, followed in turn by the Vekshi priestesses, and all the while Zechalia was wailing in Saffron's arms, begging to be let go.

“Arsegullet!” Yasha swore. “Trishka, go! Yena stays here; I'll not risk you both.”

Yena wavered, torn between fear of Yasha and fright at Zech's agony. Almost imperceptibly, her gaze drifted to Saffron. “But–”

Trishka shook her head, cutting her off. “I'll see you soon,” she said, touching two fingers to Yena's cheek. “Stay.”

Obedient, Yena nodded, stepping back to Yasha's side. Then it was Trishka's turn to brave the portal, and Gwen experienced a moment of heart-seizing panic, remembering all too well her friend's previous hurts. But her worry was for nothing: Trishka crossed with incongruous calm, as spry as a child.

Zech screamed again, bucking fiercely against the arms that held her.