Lova and Wren’s footsteps rang off the high walls as they mounted the staircase that dominated the atrium. A canopy of banners fluttered overhead. There were hundreds of them, one for every member of the clan. It was an impressive sight, the mass of navy and white, like an upside-down sea softly swaying in the breeze brushing in through the fort’s entranceway. Wren had practiced her magic here many times with Caen when she was younger, in the dead of night to ensure they weren’t seen.
Following a sudden, childish urge, she snatched at some qi to whip up the wind, shooting a strong gust through the foyer and up into the banners, making them flap. There were shouts of surprise.
Wren bit back a hiss at the energy this frivolous bit of magic cost her. She was still hurting from her time in the training pit, every bit of her aching.
“It’s the injury again, isn’t it?” Lova said. “Let’s go back to the armory. Or fight me, if you have to. I could do with some practice. Things have been rather boring around here lately.”
“Boring isn’t bad.”
Lova huffed. “Says the sole survivor of Ikhara’s legendary warrior clan, who will soon defeat the King’s cruel rule to bring about a new age in our land’s history.” Her tone lost its teasing edge. “Boring wasn’t in your past, Wren Hanno. And it isn’t in your future.” When Wren didn’t respond, Lova caught her elbow. “This isn’t like you,” she said quietly.
“Isn’t it?” Muscles tightened in Wren’s jaw. She remembered again Lei’s words: enemy, you. She sensed Lova wanting to continue the conversation, so she shot her a cutting look and they climbed the next few floors in silence.
When they arrived at the room her father had shown her to earlier, the guards bowed, opening the door.
“You don’t have to come with me, Lo,” Wren said. “Especially seeing how much you disapprove.”
“Oh, honey,” Lova purred, “as if I’m one for doing the good, sensible thing.”
She strode in without waiting for a reply, and Wren followed, a little lighter knowing she wouldn’t have to go through this alone. That was something Lei had taught her; burdens could be shared. Though Wren would never have wanted to share this with Lei. Lova, however… she, too, had been born with violence in her blood. She might not like what was about to happen, but she understood it.
The jackal demon was still asleep, curled on his side. Gangly limbs poked from too-wide hems.
Wren felt a surge of pity—which only reminded her how little mercy the King and his men had ever spared them.
She prodded him awake with her foot.
The boy was alert in an instant, scuttling back, awkward in his binds. His sharp ears pricked. He’d looked innocent in sleep, but now he fizzed with frantic energy. “Keeda scum,” he snarled. His eyes shot to Lova. “Moon traitor.” He scoffed. “I don’t know which is worse.”
Lova gasped dramatically. “How dare you! Of course I’m worse!” Her incisors flashed, and she leaned in. “Want me to show you just how much?”
Wren held out a hand. “Let me make this easy for you,” she told the demon. “Tell me what you were really doing by our watchtower, or you can tell me in a few minutes—maybe even hours—from now. It’ll be the same outcome, but one way will be far more pleasant for you.”
“Far more pleasant for all of us,” Lova added with a pout. “A lot of care goes into keeping this coat so glossy.”
The jackal-boy bared his teeth at her. “I’m not gonna help you with anything, keeda-lover.”
He was raspy with thirst. Wren considered getting him some water, but she didn’t have the time. Not if the boy had information she could use to find Lei.
“So you’re choosing the difficult way?” she asked him.
“Smart one, aren’t you?” His eyes flicked over her. His lips curled. “Aren’t you one of the King’s little sluts? I’m sure I’ve seen you at the palace.”
At his words, the room went dangerously silent. Wren sensed Lova bristling, clearly struggling to hold back her rage.
One of the King’s little sluts.
Wren drew the gutting knife from the folds at her waist. She wanted this over with. She wanted all of this over with. This moment, this war, these children shaped by ugliness and malice.
The jackal-boy really was so young. And yet the contemptuous look on his face was as old and set as buried bones.
His eyes darted to the knife, then back to Wren. “Do your best, keeda,” he sneered.
She crouched over him. “As you wish.”
They rushed from the room as soon as the full picture of the demon’s confession hit them.
Clan members gave Wren startled looks as she and Lova flew down the main staircase, and she knew what she must look like, blood-splattered and wild-eyed. But there wasn’t any time to clean up. When they arrived at the atrium, Wren peeled off to find her father, while Lova paused, calling at her back, “I’ll send up a doctor and a shaman. To help with his… pain.”
Wren paused, breathless, turning. “Thank you,” she said. She hated that she hadn’t thought of doing the same.
Lei would have.
Then again, Lei wouldn’t have done any of this in the first place.
How many more murders will you commit in the name of justice until you realize you’re as bad as those we’re meant to be fighting against?
Wren was thankful Lova’s amber gaze held no judgment. “You did well, Wren,” she said. “As well as that kind of thing can be done.” Then she was off, the hems of her trousers rustling on the stone floor.
Wren hurried on to the dining hall. Wide eyes trailed her as she made her way through the vaulted room filled with noise and food smells, every table packed with Papers and demons. Wren’s father was sat at his usual table at the head of the hall. Caen was beside him. The two of them were on their feet before she reached them.
“Our watchtowers have been compromised,” Wren told them at once. “The King’s soldiers have been taking control of them over the past week so we wouldn’t be alerted to his army’s movements. That’s what the boy was doing by the river watchtower.”
Caen tensed. He shook his head. “We should have known.”
“How long do we have?” Ketai asked.
“Not we,” Wren corrected. “Nantanna.”
For a moment, the two men looked confused. Nantanna was their province’s capital, and Ketai its steward. Though they’d heightened its security since the start of the war, it was the Jade Fort they’d been anticipating to come under attack. Naja, the King’s personal guard, had even threatened Lei with it when she’d attacked them during their journey to secure allies. Nantanna was the third largest settlement in Ikhara. Alongside Papers, thousands of demons lived and worked there, and unlike other places there’d been little evidence of rebellion against the King’s rule. Why would he attack one of his own cities?
Understanding darkened Ketai and Caen’s faces.
They’d been tricked.
It was foolish of them to have ever thought the King would be concerned about popularity among his citizens after the war. He was reckless. He was blood-hungry. The King would hurt Nantanna for the same reasons he’d hurt anything.
Power. Pleasure. Revenge.