Night Shine Page 26

  But they were ushered on, and passed through the seventh, sixth, and fifth circles of the palace before Kirin balked. He dug in his heels and demanded a moment to catch his breath and fix his hair before being dragged to his mother.

  He was obeyed of course, and he shook off the wet cloak. Shine sat him down on a stool in the curving antechamber to the fourth circle’s greeting hall. Sky made quick work of rebinding Kirin’s topknot. It was the most he’d touched Kirin in days. They did not have time to powder his face, but Shine touched up the black lines around his eyes and dabbed paint onto his lips again for perfect contrast.

  Both Shine and Sky nodded encouragingly at him, and Kirin drew himself to his full height. “I’m ready.”

  “You look magnificent,” Shine said. She still wore the thin wool clothing The Scale had put her in, in so many shades of blue, and her hair now was a mess, but she didn’t care.

  “Shine, you have little shards of the great demon caught in your hair,” Sky said disapprovingly, when he noticed her touching the ragged ends.

  Sky had wished to be in full uniform, but the army hadn’t had proper demon-kissed bodyguard attire to lend him. He relied instead on a dark-purple wrap shirt from the sorceress that was significantly more luxurious than he preferred and his own black trousers and boots. He had gauntlets on his forearms, sword gloves, and his enchanted sword strapped to his back. Rain dripped off him, as he’d not bothered with a cloak in the first place, but his dark hair had already dried, with wisps messily puffing around his ears and jaw that shone blue when they caught light.

  Kirin stared at Sky, and clearly wished to speak something, but they weren’t alone.

  And suddenly Lord All-in-the-Water was there, filling the doorway to the antechamber with his shoulders.

  “Kirin,” he said hugely, relief and concern apparent in the set of his jaw and the clench of his fists. The lord commander of all Warriors of the Last Means, he always wore a belt of wide throwing daggers around his waist, cinching his red-and-white robes, and his hair was unfashionably short.

  “Lord All-in-the-Water,” said Kirin turning easily. He walked to the older man.

  “Is it you?” the commander asked warily, lifting a black-and-graying eyebrow.

  “I imagine I’ll be proving that to my mother, so please don’t make me do it multiple times.”

  The lord commander snorted. His cutting hazel eyes flicked to Sky, held there for a moment too long, then found Shine. Her he studied with open suspicion. “You should have come to me,” he said.

  Shine realized he meant weeks ago, when she first realized Kirin was an imposter. She did not reply, as she’d never spoken to All-in-the-Water before and had no intention of starting.

  “Lead the way,” Kirin said, moving to show if Lord-All-in-the-Water did not, Kirin would go on his own.

  Kirin followed the lord commander closely, and Shine and Sky fell in together at his wings. Immli came behind them, unfortunately. Shine’s pulse quickened as her pace did, and she glanced at Sky from the corner of her eye. He noticed—of course he noticed—but he did not return her looks.

  A handful of Warriors of the Last Means came along too, and before them servants scattered, peeking around pillars and from doorways. A few noblemen and -women watched from corridors that spilled into this one, especially as they moved through the third circle of the palace. Shine thought if she were among them, she’d be in the smoke ways, tracing the prince’s path unseen and unheard.

  They stepped up through the wide, flowing dragon staircase that led into the second circle where the consorts reigned, and in those hallways they had no audience at all. Anyone who could access these rooms would surely be waiting with the empress herself in the first circle.

  To Shine’s surprise, Lord All-in-the-Water did not take them to the Court of the Seven Circles but veered off toward the empress’s evening receiving hall. It was a half-circle room along the western edge of the seventh circle, and the outer wall was composed of open archways leading onto a stone porch overlooking the entire rest of the palace. Rain pattered softly against the roof, draining along hung chains into shallow pools shaped like fish. When the water overflowed, it slid through narrow, gilded channels to the edge of the porch, then poured in arcs from the mouths of spirit statues.

  When the sky was clear, the sunset lit the porch and set fire to the gilded pillars and gold-seamed marble walls inside. Lush pillows and benches were casually arranged around the empress’s star-shaped chair. Shine had been here for formal occasions, when the setting sun dazzled the air, putting everyone off-kilter and wincing prettily but for the empress, safe with a headdress of shimmering beads or rain-silver shading her face. If they’d been brought here on a sunny day, Shine would have thought something was wrong that the empress wished to set her son on edge. But the rain made it a soft world, comforting and cool, despite the damp breeze.

  The empress sat straight-backed upon her chair, hands folded upon her lap. Her face was hidden by a veil of black thread beaded in jet and tiny squares of obsidian that fell down from her forehead to her breast, slipping against the crimson silk of her gown. Black-embroidered peonies darkened the silk like inky shadows, and her nails were lacquered black—just like the sorceress. Shine clenched her hands together, shivering with memory.

  Arrayed behind and to either side of the empress were her most trusted attendants, including that pair of palace witches, Aya and Leaf, their heads shaved and painted with sigils Shine still couldn’t read, and a single old priest in pink robes. The witches stared at Shine hard, each with a spirit crow upon her shoulder, their misty bodies forming hard and disintegrating and forming up again in a slow cycle. They glared at her with their single aether-blue eyes.

  The First Consort Sun-Bright and Second Consort Love-Eyes each waited as well, just as surrounded by attendants, and at the edges of the room Warriors of the Last Means stood rigid and ready.

  Kirin strode in with his usual grace, but halted abruptly before his mother, without offering a bow. He stared silently for a long moment, and Shine resisted the urge to step forward and place a hand between his shoulder blades.

  Though Shine missed the signal, suddenly the Warriors of the Last Means leapt forward, moving like lightning through the silk-clad attendants, and held spears tipped in steel at Shine, Sky, and Kirin.

  FORTY

  THEY STOOD IN A circle of teeth. Shine gasped, eyes widening at the nearest spear tip. Beside her Sky twitched but did not grab his own weapon.

  Kirin remained still, chin raised.

  Lord All-in-the-Water said, “Show us that it is you and not some imposter. All three of you.”

  With a sigh of weary compliance, Kirin swung a hand up and grasped the end of the spear pointed at his neck. The warrior holding it lowered his eyes before remembering his job in that moment was to challenge the prince, not submit. Kirin gripped the spear and lifted his other hand, pressing his palm to the tip. With a sneer at the pain, he jerked his hand, slashing the soft skin.

  The black threads of his mother’s veil shivered.

  The Second Consort Love-Eyes sucked in a breath: her lovely lips parted, and her green eyes teared. Shine had always found her to be pleasant and willing to allow Shine access to her rooms, and she was sorry to see such obvious distress in the pinking of Love-Eyes’ cheeks.

  First Consort Sun-Bright, Kirin’s father, watched stone-faced as a spirit statue. One of his attendants had a hand on his shoulder as if to offer reassurance.

  Kirin released the spear and held out his cupped palm. Slowly, eyes on his mother, he tilted his hand and let bright-red blood dribble down the side, trailing in a vivid line before it dripped once, twice, and a third time onto the lustrous wooden floor.

  The empress touched the moon pearl set into the collar of state she always wore in public. Approval.

  “Mother,” Kirin began, but Lord All-in-the-Water interrupted:

  “The others too.”

  Shine wrinkled her nose an
d said, “May I have a smaller blade?”

  The lord commander took a throwing knife from his belt and stepped through the circle of spears to offer her the hilt.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, and without art sliced open the back of her wrist. She hissed, and held it out, showing the blood.

  Sky put his hand before her, and Shine gripped the knife tighter, lifting her eyes to his. She recalled when he’d cut himself before the empress right after she slit the throat of the imposter. Then he’d turned away from the empress; now he did not.

  Gritting her teeth, Shine cut into the back of Sky’s wrist too, letting the blade clatter to the floor when his blood welled so dark and purple. Then both of them looked to Kirin, and they all looked at his mother.

  “Everyone out,” said the Empress with the Moon in Her Mouth. Shine had heard the empress’s voice only a handful of times in her life. It was both rich and gentle.

  First Consort Sun-Bright moved nearer to his wife and said to the room, “Tell the palace the Heir to the Moon has returned to us, whole and wholly himself.”

  Some left quickly, others reluctantly. The pair of witches were the last to go, staring at Shine over their shoulders. She widened her eyes, hoping they could see sparks of fire in her pupils.

  A departing attendant offered Shine a bandage with which to wrap her wrist and hand. She wished she could steal some power and heal herself. But she’d promised the great demon, and besides, it might be dangerous to display her power to everyone still watching so carefully.

  Soon it was only herself, Sky, Kirin, Lord All-in-the-Water, the two consorts, and the empress.

  And the witch Immli, who had knelt beside the exit, head lowered and hands clasped, asking silent permission to remain.

  No one made him go, to Shine’s irritation.

  The empress stood, and all but Kirin knelt as she approached him. She lifted her hands to remove the combs holding the black-rain veil against her looping, thick braids. Second Consort Love-Eyes moved to her wife’s side to gather the combs and veil.

  Shine looked down fast, before she saw the empress’s revealed expression.

  “Kirin,” the empress whispered, and then Shine heard the motion of silk, and the two embraced. “My son,” the empress added. “Oh, my son.”

  “Mother,” he said, calm. Too calm.

  “We’ll send for your mother too,” First Consort Sun-Bright said to Sky. “She came to the palace two weeks after you left. Terrified out of her mind.”

  Sky’s jaw clenched, and he bowed his head sharply.

  “Nothing,” said Lord All-in-the-Water, but Kirin interrupted him:

  “No, that is not her name.” The prince drew himself up, leaving his hand lightly on his mother’s wrist. “This is Night Shine, and she is a hero.”

  From the edge of the chamber, Immli said harshly, “She is a monster and should be put in demon chains.”

  Shine whirled on him, furious. Her fingers curled into claws, but Kirin said, “You overstep, witch.”

  “Kirin,” said the First Consort.

  “Father, we owe Shine my life, and the sanctity of the Moon. Everyone else in this room would have attempted the investiture ritual with an imposter and likely lost all the support of the great demon. That the situation is not so dire has everything to do with Shine.”

  Shine willed herself calmer as she listened to the prince defend her, but she couldn’t stop glaring at Immli.

  Sun-Bright said, “I understand that, my son, but we would like to hear what the witch has to say.”

  Immli bowed deep enough from his kneeling position to brush his forehead to the ground. When he leaned up, he put his hands respectfully on his knees. Omkin was nowhere to be seen, but Shine knew the demon was nearby.

  The empress returned to her chair, and the Second Consort replaced her veil.

  Then the witch was given permission to speak. He said, “Empress, my lord and lady, my prince, Night Shine herself is some kind of great demon—she is no sorceress. I have witnessed her drain aether like a demon, and at night fall into such a deep trance there is no telling what she might have been doing, away from her body. She is susceptible to a witch’s naming magic, though too strong for me to make her my familiar. Unless she can prove she is no threat, how can we not take precautions, or risk her befouling the prince, who must remain pure?”

  Though Shine hated to put her back to the witch, she turned to look at the empress and her consorts. She held her fists against her sides, breathing a little too hard, and tried to seem nonthreatening. If only she still were Nothing—she should have waited to rename herself until she’d gotten Kirin home and safe. This was her fault.

  Everyone stared at her.

  Kirin said, “Shine is not dangerous to me.”

  “But to others?” Lord All-in-the-Water said sharply.

  “The great demon of the palace has allowed me to be here,” Shine said softly. “The Moon itself.”

  The empress’s mouth flattened, and the First Consort glanced across his wife to catch the gaze of the Second Consort.

  Second Consort Love-Eyes nodded to her partner consort and then turned back to Shine. She asked gently, “Shine, can you explain away this witch’s concerns, then? Tell us what you have become?”

  Shine looked to Kirin, who gave her one of his single-shoulder shrugs, performing a greater degree of nonchalance than he likely felt. “I can tell you some, but I do not entirely understand what I am now. No one does.” She licked her lips, slid a glare at Immli, and said, “I am the reason Kirin was taken by the Sorceress Who Eats Girls.”

  Love-Eyes gasped, but nobody else reacted visibly.

  “Long ago, the sorceress created a powerful spell to help the great demon of the Fifth Mountain be reborn to life, and it worked—only not exactly as she intended. The demon was born again, here in the palace, because the palace is a safe place for a great demon.” Shine paused meaningfully.

  The empress nodded. She understood why.

  Shine continued. “I didn’t know. Nobody did. But the sorceress has been looking for me. That is why she killed girls.”

  “Kirin is not a girl,” First Consort Sun-Bright said in a warning voice.

  “He was bait,” Shine said quickly. “To lure me. The sorceress realized where I must be, so she took Kirin and replaced him, knowing I would come because of what I had been. And it worked. The Day the Sky Opened and I went, and when I faced her, she agreed to let Kirin go. It was that easy—because she got what she wanted. Me.”

  Kirin sighed, as if a little bored, and his father shook his head in disapproval. But the empress spoke quietly, her veil shivering. The First Consort relayed her thoughts. “You are here, though. Not with the sorceress.”

  “Kirin needs me. Whatever I was, or—or am—I was Kirin’s first. My loyalty is here.”

  The prince shifted toward her and put his hand on her shoulder. He held his gaze on his mother. “Shine is powerful, and new, and we are lucky to have her. I trust her, Mother. If you trust me, you must trust her.”

  A movement behind them reminded everyone Immli remained.

  “Yes?” the Second Consort said, as sweet as always. Perhaps it was her mask, just as Kirin’s arrogance was his.

  “At least, Glorious Moon,” said the witch, “let us be cautious with the reborn demon. She killed Skybreaker.”

  Shine’s eyes widened, and she sucked in a breath to argue, but Kirin squeezed her shoulder, saying, “Skybreaker attacked us, Immli. Shine protected me—would you have had her do anything different?”

  But Shine saw the doubt in the Second Consort’s bowing lips and found no encouragement in the First Consort’s hard expression.

  Immli bowed again. “My prince, I apologize, I—I only report the whispers of the aether, the gossip of spirits and demons, because it is what we all hear, we witches with our familiars. And what we hear is that your sorcerer Shine is dangerous. She herself claims she does not know everything that she is, and so might be vol
atile. How can even she predict what she might do? Let us put sigils on her to bind her power while she remains here.”

  Kirin frowned, but the First Consort said, “Will you submit to such a thing, Night Shine?”

  Shine did not want to, but she nodded. Gossip, she thought. What other rumors might spirits spread about Kirin? She had no choice but to obey.

  “Then go with this witch,” Kirin’s father said, “and see it done. Sky, you will make your full report now to Lord All-in-the-Water, and you, my son, will remain with us.”

  Sky bowed deeply, barely glancing at Shine and Kirin before departing with the lord commander.

  Kirin squeezed Shine’s shoulder and let his hand fall. “Come find me in the morning.”

  She nodded, then bowed to the empress before reluctantly going at Immli’s side.

  The two paired witches, Leaf and Aya, waited just outside with their crow familiars, and Immli told them they were to fit Shine with binding sigils.

  Shine kept her jaw clenched shut as they led her to the fourth circle of the palace, to a bathroom she’d never seen before, as it had no smoke ways in its walls and a thin glass roof smeared with gray rainwater. The chamber glowed with violet twilight: it had a deep central pool and four shallower and crescent shaped, each a different composition and temperature. The women witches bathed Shine in warm saltwater to cleanse influence and aether-marks from her skin while Immli fetched a priest. They gave her salt to put on her tongue until it dissolved and burned spruce incense, murmuring quiet blessings. Their crows flew back and forth across the chamber, drawing aether-winds into simple patterns of balance and cleansing. They chattered at each other, and Shine could hear them but did not think Leaf and Aya could. It made her smile meanly.

  When Shine was clean, they wound her hair into a simple knot, dressed her in a plain gray tunic as long as her calves, and painted sigils on her palms, the soles of her feet, and beneath her ears.

  They laid her down on a thin mat and called in Sovan the dawn priest and Immli. The army witch was still dusty and wearing his uniform, but Sovan had on the same sickly pink robe and egg-blue sash as always, his long white hair bound in blue ribbons and his beard dyed harsh black. His copper skin had age spots, but his eyes were wrinkled in a friendly way. “I remember you,” he said.