An Accident of Stars (42 page)

“I do,” said Viya, steadily. She moved up to Zech's right side, so that she and Safi were flanking her. Zech shivered, as though the air were suddenly full of lightning. “You never owned me, Kadeja. And once I rule with Amenet ore Amenet ki Rahei, you and Leoden both will be forgotten.”

Another rumble from the palace; the floor beneath them shuddered like a stretching cat, and for the first time it occurred to Zech to wonder if the vibrations were caused by something other than the removal of the wards.
Not that I can do anything about it.

“Stand down,” said Safi. “There's nowhere left to run.”

Emboldened by Kadeja's silence, Zech stepped forwards, and then again, until she was within arm's reach of Luy.

“It's almost funny,” she said in Vekshi, forcing herself to ignore the blood trickling down Luy's throat. “I was Ashasa's gift to you: a daughter on whom the sun both smiles and frowns. Together, we might have done anything, but you refused me. You left me to be raised by women who've since become your enemies – and all these years later, Ashasa gave you a second chance. She put me right in your path, but you were so busy maiming a worldwalker–” Kadeja's eyes widened, her gaze skewing fractionally to Safi before once more fixing on Zech, “–that you didn't even recognise your own daughter. You let me go a second time, and how did Ashasa respond then? By making me a queen of Veksh; by smiling on my alliance with Kena, with the Shavaktiin, with worldwalkers – by giving me the chance to make the unity you've dreamed of real, but founded on peace, not war. And here you stand, defying her still, because you're too afraid to admit the truth.”

“Truth?” Kadeja's laughter was high and wild. In Kenan, she said, “What truth is that?”

Zech took another step closer. “That I was your only true omen, and
you gave me away
. Since you came to Kena, Ashasa has never once smiled on you, and now she never will.”

“
Liar!
” Kadeja screamed.

The world and its motions slowed to an infinite pause. Kadeja shoved Luy away, hard, and for a terrible instant as he fell Zech met his gaze; saw his mouth widen in shock as Kadeja kept going, her knife-arm arcing up towards Zech – the blade red-limned and silver-bright, like an evil star – and then there was pain, a screaming knot of sunbursts as the knife punched through her throat – numb, she was numb, and her mouth was full of blood, and
this wasn't supposed to happen, oh gods, no, not this, not like this
– she was on her knees, the world tilting violently – a fog came down, and through it she saw panicked faces, Safi and Viya and Luy, and she wanted to tell them it was all right,
it's really all right, because it can't end like this, I didn't survive queens and dragons to die here, I've got so much to do
– but the words wouldn't come, there was just blood bubbling from her mouth, blood and air and a sudden, seizing pain in her chest like her ribs were turning inside out–

And then there was darkness, and then there was nothing at all.

Z
ech fell
, and the whole world stopped.

Or at least, it did for Saffron. She was frozen in shock, her eyes fixed on the knife in Zech's throat, on the spreading pool of redblack blood in which she lay. Around her, the yshra were moving, a flurry of blades and outraged shouts as they captured Kadeja, and even then the Vex'Mara wouldn't stop raging, struggling against her bonds as Trishka surged across, too late, and pulled Zech into her lap.

“Liars!” Kadeja screamed at them. “Liars, heretics, false daughters, false–”

The butt of Jesha's staff hit her solidly in the face; Kadeja gave an abortive cry and slumped, supported by two swearing priestesses.

“Get her out of here!” Gwen snapped, and though she spoke in Kenan, the meaning was clear to all. Kadeja was gone within moments, Jesha's portal to Yevekshasa opening and closing like an angry, golden eye. The palace shook again, harder than before, but Saffron didn't care; had barely even registered Jesha's farewell. As though it were a looped video, she kept reliving the awful, juddering moment when Zech's back had arched, eyes widening into stillness as the last pink bubble popped on her lips. She realised she was screaming, fighting to get free of the arms that wrapped her close, and when had that happened? She didn't remember dropping to her knees, didn't know who held her; only that Zech was out of reach, and shouldn't be.

“It's too late,” someone whispered, “leave it, leave it alone, she's gone, she's
gone,
you can't bring her back–”
but it was all just noise, and Saffron shook her head wildly, unable to comprehend it.

“Zech!” she shouted. “Zech Zech Zech Zech
Zech
!”

Her voice cracked, deserting her with the suddenness of gunfire. She started weeping, collapsing into those cursed arms – into
Pix's
arms, she realised dimly; Pix, who'd been holding her steady.

“She's gone, Safi,” Pix said again, voice rough with tears. “She's gone, but we need to go, we need you here, all right? Come back to me. Come back to me, please, we can't lose you both.”

It was like a dream; like piloting a video game version of herself. Saffron heaved a breath and pulled away, her skin gone cold and alien. She tried to look at Zech again – at her body, at the thing that had been Zech, gaze skating over Trishka – but her eyes refused to focus.

Instead, she looked at Gwen. The worldwalker was hugging Luy, hard. Their eyes met over his shoulder. And in that moment, Saffron knew she was done. Kadeja was captured, the Vekshi gone, and her own utility, such as it was, had expired. Since coming to Kena, she'd learned she was a lot of things, but strong enough to keep fighting when her friend was dead wasn't one of them.

“Send me home,” she croaked.

“
Now
?” said Viya, all outrage belied by her visible shellshock. “But we have to go, before the whole palace knows what's happened!”

“The whole palace
already
knows! The
whole palace
,” Saffron said, voice stiff with tears, “is
shaking
, and I don't… Thorns and godshit, Viya, but if I stay, you're going to have to run from here – you're going to leave this room, you'll leave her here, and I can't–” her voice cracked, slipping into English, “– Jesus, I can't do it, OK? I can portal right the fuck out while you're all still here, but I can't, I can't walk off with you and leave her
alone
, like she's just, just – and I'm useless right now, the Vekshi are gone, you don't need me,
you never needed me
, and Trishka can do it now, right? She can send me home?”

This last to Gwen, who suddenly looked more exhausted than Saffron had ever seen her. “Ask her yourself,” she said tiredly, in Kenan.

Trishka.

If Kadeja had been Zech's mother in blood, it was Trishka who'd raised her in truth. It was easy to forget that sometimes.

Not now, though. Not ever again.

Trishka knelt with Zech's head in her lap, her face so tremulously calm, she looked like a wave on the cusp of breaking. Her eyes –
soft, soft
– were fixed on Zech, her fingers carding gently through that scraggle of grey hair. Without looking up, she said, “If it's what you want, I can send you home. Perhaps it's best.” Her gaze flicked to Saffron, raw and sad. “You'd be safer there.”

Saffron nodded, throat tight with tears. She was shaking in every limb, and part of her whispered
coward, Zech would want you here
, but Zech was dead and she just wanted everything to stop, and if she stayed, it couldn't.

Wordlessly, she tugged away from Pix – not standing, but crawling, crossing those last few feet to her friend. Trishka, she noted distantly, was sitting in blood, which Saffron couldn't afford to touch, though at that moment she'd quite forgotten why.

The knife was still in Zech's throat.

It stuck out obscenely, like an oversized thorn, and yet the thought of removing it made Saffron want to vomit. The floor shook again, more lightly than before, as though in gentle chastisement of their delay. Her gaze flew to Trishka's: she was crying too.

“She would want you safe, I think,” said Trishka softly.

Nodding, Saffron choked on a sob.

She reached out and closed Zech's eyes.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

“All braids tie off,” Trishka murmured – a reference to the braided path, for all the good it did them now – and in her mouth, the phrase was curse and benediction both. To Gwen, Trishka added bitterly, “I assume you're staying here?”

It wasn't like Saffron had expected Gwen to come with her now, but even so she flinched at her answering nod.

“But you'll find me, though?” Saffron blurted. “Later?”

“I will,” said Gwen. She stood beside Luy now, one hand gripping his shoulder, and as Saffron saw the clear resemblance between them – the shape of chin and cheek and nose – she realised, with that strange little lurch which betokened the return of dreamscape-knowledge, that Luy was Gwen's son.

“And so will I,” said Luy, unexpectedly. “The ilumet links all worlds, Saffron Isla Coulter. However long it is before we meet in waking–” the palace gave another ominous rumble, and Pix swore softly under her breath, “–I'll find you in the dreamscape before then.”

Saffron nodded, a hot lump in her throat. She staggered upright, stepping back from Zech and Trishka, unable to look away. A part of her screamed frantically that she ought to stay, but she was too afraid, too weak, and there were no regret-free options left.

The glow of Trishka's magic was pink and raw, an electric wound in the world. The portal spun itself open like an exploding Catherine wheel, and when Saffron looked around the room – at Gwen, Luy, Trishka, Pix and Viya – their faces were all bathed in its eerie glow. She didn't say goodbye, just squared herself and moved, because part of her didn't want to go, and part of her was numb beyond choosing, and part of her couldn't get away fast enough.

At the very last moment, she turned on the threshold, an over-the-shoulder glance as she passed between worlds. She wanted to say something, anything, but as she opened her mouth, the doors to Kadeja's room swung open, and in stormed Leoden, flanked by guards. Unable to check her momentum, Saffron kept going, an abortive cry on her lips as she stumbled home.

The last thing she saw as the portal snapped shut was the look on Leoden's face.

He was furious.

Gwen's hackles rose, fists clenching of their own accord. Their party was only five-strong now, and Leoden had brought nearly twice as many guards–

“The prisoner,” said a hard-faced woman, “demanded to speak to you.”

It was such an impossible statement, it took Gwen almost three full seconds to process it, during which interval the floor shook yet again, rattling the bowl in Kadeja's altar.
Prisoner. Leoden is the prisoner.

“Demanded to speak to all of us?” Viya asked, into the sudden silence. “Or to one of us in particular?”

“To the worldwalker, my Iviyat,” Leoden said, smiling thinly. “Your presence here is irrelevant.”

Viya stiffened, and before anyone could stop her, she closed the gap between them and slapped her husband hard across the face. He clearly hadn't expected it; he growled, arm moving to return the blow, but the nearest guard hooked his elbow and stopped him.

“You killed my bloodmother,” Viya said, cold and uncowed. “You killed Hawy. She was loyal to you, and the minute she realised what you were, you had her cut down like a stand of rotten reeds. So don't you call me
my Iviyat
. I was never yours. But I
am
the Cuivexa of Kena.”

With that, Viya turned away from him. Leoden snorted, but without heat, and all at once he was as discomposed as Gwen had ever seen him. It wasn't just that his hair was wild, or that his clothes were dishevelled, though such details were incongruous enough. It was the fact that his mask was gone: that perfect, polite control that had so comprehensively hidden his true nature from her and Pix. Gwen didn't know if its absence was deliberate or calculated, but either way it was something she hadn't expected to see. It threw her off balance – as, indeed, did Leoden's apparent capitulation – and
that
made her wary.

“What do you want?” she asked.

Tugging his arm free of the guard who held him, Leoden took a step forward. His eyes darted around the room, widening slightly as he noticed Zech's body. In a quieter tone than Gwen had expected, he asked, “Where is my Vex'Mara?”

“Gone,” said Gwen, as much to try and gauge his reaction as for the satisfaction of provoking it. Leoden clenched his jaw but didn't speak, and after a moment, she added, “Taken to stand trial in Veksh, for crimes against Ashasa.”

Leoden's fingers clenched and straightened. “I hear that Amenet still lives.”

“She does, no thanks to you.”

“A pity,” he said, then added, in a faster, sharper tone, “I won't ask how you brought down the palace wards. What you need to know, Gwen Vere, is that they aren't the only thing your recklessness has broken. Or has it completely escaped your notice that the palace is coming apart?”

“Coming apart?” Pix gave an incredulous snort. “Don't exaggerate, Leoden.”

“I'm
not
,” he shot back, and as if to emphasise the point, the building rumbled again, longer and louder than before. The hairs on the back of Gwen's neck stood up. She'd thought the shaking was a consequence of the broken wards, but if it was something else–

“Explain,” she said. “Fast.”

Leoden shot her a withering look. “Very well. The wards were tied to a magical artefact in one of the lower chambers – it's believed to be a weapon of sorts, though Sahu's Kin are still arguing about its exact function. Breaking the wards has evidently caused it to activate, and as it is currently housed in a room to which only I have access… Well.” He smiled thinly. “You can see the problem.”

Pix scoffed. “How convenient.”

“Funny,” said Leoden. “I was thinking just the opposite. Whatever you might think of me, Pixeva ore Pixeva, I have no desire to see this palace brought to the ground. If that were the case, I'd have fled it already rather than let myself be captured by these–” he waved an unimpressed hand at the guards, “–
nobodies
. Or did you honestly think I'd come to you easily, willingly, without a good reason?”

“I think you always have reasons,” Pix said, “but seldom the ones you profess.”

“Easy enough to find the truth,” said Louis suddenly. “Find one of Nihun's Kin, someone gifted with the ahunemet, and have them see if he's lying.”

It was the first time he'd spoken since Saffron's departure, and Leoden did a double-take at the sound of his voice. Gwen briefly wondered why, until she recalled that Leoden had never seen her son's bare face before, only his veils. (And soon enough, she'd sit down with Louis and ask what the hell he'd been playing at, pretending to give Leoden aid. She'd nearly had a heart attack to see him in Kadeja's arms; it had taken all her willpower not to cry out and betray exactly how valuable a hostage he made. But then, she supposed, it explained a great deal about his involvement in things.)

“Well,” said Leoden lightly, for all that the betrayal had clearly startled him. “And why I am even surprised? Never trust a Shavaktiin, the saying goes. I ought to have heeded it.”

“And a great many other adages besides,” said Louis. “Such as, for instance, not blaming the murder of visiting dignitaries on unlikely culprits. The Uyun ambassador's entourage were very interested to learn of your penchant for poisoning, and consequently rather keen to take revenge. Right about now, I expect their guards are helping to incapacitate yours – the ones who aren't already drunk, drugged or turned against you, that is.”

Gwen's heart filled with pride.
That's my boy!

Leoden cupped his hands and proffered them in a gesture of mock-respect. “Well played!” he said, a hint of snarl in the words. “And here I'd been wondering how this rabble of dunces had managed such an effective strike. I hadn't considered that they had
inside help
.” He tilted his head, mouth twisting cruelly. “Have you betrayed your vows for this, Shavaktiin? You told me you were outcast within your order – what does the Great Story say about this?”

Louis didn't flinch, and Gwen was proud of him for that, but she had a mother's knowledge of his tells, and the subtle tremor in his throat said that Leoden had struck a nerve.

“The story doesn't care for you, Leoden,” Louis said. “That's all you need to know.”

“Hurry.” The single word dropped into the conversation like a stone. All eyes turned to Trishka, who was breathing heavily, still cradling Zech's body. “I can feel it in my magic. There's something in the palace, something… wrong.” She lifted her chin and looked at Gwen. “Whatever it is, you need to shut it down. Fast.”