《The Power and the Glory》


 Prologue

    Out of the woods, out of the dark


    I''m well aware of the shadows in my heart


    -- Sleeping at Last, Taste


    A small village, somewhere on a small planet


    Year 7437 by Intergalactic Standard Year Reckoning


    The zombie apocalypse happened on a perfectly normal market day. It happened so slowly and unobtrusively that no one noticed at first. They only realised something unusual was happening when a rotting corpse tripped over a crate of fresh fruit. Not even the most oblivious person could fail to notice a skeleton with strands of flesh still clinging to it, especially not when it sadly flopped around amidst the squashed fruit like a fish out of water.


    Everyone who saw it screamed. Everyone who didn''t see it ran to see what the screams were about. Gossip flew back and forth among the crowd. And then the shoppers began to notice all the other corpses shambling around the marketplace.


    None of the other corpses were quite as decomposed. Most of them could be mistaken for living people, as long as you didn''t get close enough to smell them. Yet a busy marketplace had so many strange and unpleasant smells that rotting flesh faded into the background. The corpses went unnoticed until everyone already knew they were there.


    The screaming grew louder. People flung down their purchases and ran for safety.


    If they''d been less frightened they might have realised these zombies did not behave as zombies were supposed to. They didn''t bite anyone. They didn''t eat anyone''s brains. They didn''t even chase the people running from them. They simply wandered around with a lost and confused air. As if not even they knew what was happening, and were waiting for someone to explain it all to them.


    Crowds pushed and shoved their way out of the market square. Policemen vainly tried to regain order. Screams rang from everywhere. In all the pandemonium, no one saw two people run back into the now almost deserted marketplace.


    The people stopped when they saw the corpses. An uncomfortable silence fell. At last one of them spoke.


    "Well," she said. She clasped her hands behind her back and looked around with a badly-feigned air of nonchalance. "This is an unfortunate accident."


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    Her much shorter companion turned purple. "Accident? Accident? You blithering idiot! How did you accidentally raise the dead?"


    <hr>


    Shizuoka, Japan


    2012 by Earth reckoning


    Year 8516 by Intergalactic Standard Year Reckoning


    "I have questions," the man said calmly.


    A close observer might have seen how his hands shook as he held his coffee cup, how he almost spilled his drink as he raised it to his lips. A close observer might have guessed he was not nearly as calm as he sounded. Unfortunately, his companion had never observed him closely.


    "I know you do," the woman agreed. "You want to know how I did it. That''s all anyone wants to know. But really, you of all people should know better than to ask me that."


    The man took a deep breath. He gripped the caf¨¦ table so tightly that it creaked ominously. "I don''t want to ask about that. I want to know why you''re here. Why I''m here. Why we''re in this caf¨¦. Why we''re drinking coffee!"


    His voice rose on the last word. As if the coffee was the most disagreeable thing about this situation, which was a base slander against the quality of the coffee. Some of the other people in the caf¨¦ turned and eyed this noisy foreigner with disapproval. The woman shrugged and added yet another spoonful of sugar to her coffee. That was her eighth. The man had kept count.


    "I''m here because I want to try mountain climbing," she said. "You''re here because you followed me. We''re in this caf¨¦ because otherwise we''d have had this conversation on the street. We''re drinking coffee because we can''t just go into a caf¨¦ and not order anything. And," she added, "because I wanted to practice my Japanese."


    "Mountain climbing," the man repeated. "You. Mountain climbing."


    She gave him an offended look. "Do you think I can''t do it?"


    "There''s nothing you aren''t crazy enough to try, little sister, and I have no doubt you can climb a mountain if you want to. But why? There are plenty of mountains at home. Why come half way across the universe for one?"


    She sipped her coffee and didn''t answer. The man stared at her. She still didn''t answer. He stared some more. No answer. He adopted his best imitation of their mother''s disappointed look. She wavered and gave in.


    "All right. I''m looking for someone."


    Trepidation filled him. It never ended well when she went looking for someone. "Who do you want to kill this time?"


    She snorted. "I''m not going to kill anyone. I just owe someone an apology. And an explanation."


    Her brother frowned. "And this person is in Japan?"


    A sad, faraway look filled her eyes, even as she continued to smile. "I don''t know. Honestly, I came here because it reminds me of home."


    <hr>


    Thousands of years and a lifetime ago, there was a little girl who stared up at the sky. A million stars shone brightly down on her, whirling around in an endless dance she could never join in. Yet it wasn''t the stars that entranced her the most. Nor even the galaxies, those explosions of brilliant lights and colours that she could see through the telescope in the attic.


    She looked up at the darkness between the stars. Its peace and emptiness called to her. And something inside her called back.

 Book 1: Secrets

BOOK ONE: SECRETS


    The world was to me a secret which I desired to divine. -- Mary Shelley, Frankenstein


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 Chapter I: Arranged

    ''I don''t think they play at all fairly,'' Alice began, in rather a complaining tone, ''and they all quarrel so dreadfully one can''t hear oneself speak ¡ª and they don''t seem to have any rules in particular; at least, if there are, nobody attends to them.'' -- Lewis Carroll, Alice''s Adventures in Wonderland


    It was summer in Neleth Ancalen, and that dratted gryphon was clawing at the roof again. Of course it was left to Naluran to deal with it. Mother was too busy fussing over that little pest Ir¨ªm¨¦. Naluran, crouched outside the library door, caught only one word in ten of their conversation. If she left she wouldn''t miss much. If she didn''t leave Mother would storm out to deal with the gryphon, catch her eavesdropping, and she would have a thoroughly unpleasant time.


    A particularly grating screeeeek on the roof-tiles made her wince. She got up and stalked out to deal with her mother''s most obnoxious pet.


    "Get out of here!" she roared up at the winged menace. "Shoo! Shoo!"


    The gryphon peered down at her. It clacked its beak and fluffed out the feathers on its back. It appeared to consider the situation for a minute, before deciding a mere Saoridhin immortal was no threat to it.


    Naluran stooped down and picked up a pebble lying at her feet. She squinted against the light of the setting sun. Carefully she took aim and fired. Her throw went slightly astray. Instead of sailing over the gryphon''s head, it landed with a clatter at its feet. The creature gave an offended squawk and spread its wings. Naluran folded her arms and watched with satisfaction as it flew back to its pen.


    By the standards of the Saoridhin upper class, Mother''s home was little more than a hovel. It had only two storeys and eleven rooms. Even the grounds were incredibly small, barely more than twenty egwia[1]. There was only one summer house, and a pitiful attempt at the sort of ornamental garden traditional in well-to-do homes. Most of the available space was taken up with Mother''s absurd zoo.


    Kumolnea ¨ªalosisv¨®eln[2] had always loved exotic animals. When her parents were still alive she and her husband had frequently disappeared on years-long expeditions to find rare specimens. That had ended five hundred years ago, when a fight with a bad-tempered fedalgraill[3] had killed her husband. Now Kumolnea restricted her collection to comparatively less dangerous animals. Unfortunately for everyone around her, she cared far more for them than for her family, her duties as Anfalen[4], the running of her household, and her position in society. For the first three she depended on Naluran. For the last one she pinned all her hopes on Ir¨ªm¨¦.


    As her oldest daughter and the future Anfalen, Naluran was saddled with responsibilities from the moment she learnt to write and speak coherently. They increased as she grew up. Now she was well over two thousand years old and had assumed her mother''s duties in all but name. It was an open secret in the family that Kumolnea was waiting only for Ir¨ªm¨¦''s marriage to pass the title to Naluran.


    And that was why she and Ir¨ªm¨¦ were currently in the library, leaving Naluran -- yet again -- to deal with the practical matters.


    The gods, fate, or mere random chance had seen fit to give Ir¨ªm¨¦ some of their great-grandmother''s legendary beauty -- the beauty denied to Naluran and her other siblings. Not content with just one blessing, someone somewhere decided Ir¨ªm¨¦ would be born on the Festival of Serenity, one of the most auspicious days anyone could be born on. Those of their relatives who were inclined to social-climbing immediately declared he was meant for greatness, and began trying to arrange for him to marry into a suitably important family. They were successful beyond their wildest dreams. The empress''s daughter tasked the royal matchmakers with finding a future husband for her own newborn daughter. A little bit of bribery, a great deal of bargaining, much praying, and no small amount of luck all combined. The marriage between Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Princess Abihira was arranged while both of them were still in their cradles.


    In her most unkind moments Naluran sometimes thought the gods had given Ir¨ªm¨¦ so many blessings to hide they hadn''t given him a personality.


    While she sulked outside the house the sun had finally slipped behind the hills. The gryphon sailed overhead, squawking at a nest of rooks in the trees. Some of the animals in the menagerie growled and chirped. Voices outside the gate warned her that her other siblings were coming home from their evening at the theatre.


    Naluran moved to go back inside. A thought struck her suddenly. Instead of going in the door she turned and ran along the path that circled the house. Lights shone in the library windows. They were partially ajar to allow the cool night air into the house. She stood against the wall and listened. Unless she moved she was indistinguishable from the brick in the half-light.


    "Above all," her mother was saying, "you must not offend your future wife. No matter what she says or does -- and I must say I''ve heard some strange tales about her -- you must not show obvious disapproval. Change the subject if you feel you must say something. And do nothing to make the royal family think you''re a country bumpkin!"


    There was no reply from Ir¨ªm¨¦. Perhaps he had fallen asleep after the first hour of their mother''s spiel.


    "We must pretend changing the wedding date is of no consequence to us," Kumolnea continued.


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    Naluran did a double take. Changing the what? Why had she heard nothing about this? She handled all the official correspondence. When Ir¨ªm¨¦''s future wife came to visit it was Naluran who arranged the day''s itinerary. When Ir¨ªm¨¦ went to visit her in her foster parents'' home it was Naluran who arranged his journey.


    "I know, Mother," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said in his usual dull tone.


    "And be sure not to forget--"


    Naluran didn''t listen to any more. She needed to check the recent communications from the royal family. Perhaps she''d forgotten something -- though she couldn''t see how she could have forgotten that.


    <hr>


    The allied empires of Saoridhl¨¦m and Seroyawa had a long-standing tradition. A child from one royal family would be fostered by the other''s royal family, and vice versa. It was a very useful tradition, one that ensured the two empires maintained close relations while also providing a bargaining chip -- or a hostage -- if those relations soured. Kiriyuki perfectly understood the reasons for the custom. She acknowledged that it was a good idea. Most of the time she was quite happy with Abihira as her foster sister.


    And then there were times like this. Times when she devoutly wished Abihira had never set foot in Seroyawa.


    "Iyeshisu[5]. Please tell me you aren''t summoning demons in our boat-house."


    Abihira hadn''t heard her come in. She yelped and knocked over the ink bottle when Kiriyuki spoke. Black ink splashed all over the sheet of paper in front of her, covering the runes she''d drawn and spilling over onto the floor. Kiriyuki pinched the bridge of her nose. She watched helplessly as the current bane of her existence tried to mop up the ink, and got most of it on her own clothes.


    "Kiriyuki-erira[6]!" Abihira stood up, dripping so much ink it looked like she''d been swimming in it, and sketched an overly-dramatic bow. "Please pardon this lowly one''s failure to receive you properly. As you see I have been hard at work--"


    "Making a mess," Kiriyuki interrupted, torn between laughter and exasperation at her antics. "Which you''re going to clean up before you come back to the house. What were you doing, anyway?"


    "Nothing," Abihira said promptly. In Abihiraese that always meant, I am up to no good and will wreak havoc if not stopped.


    Kiriyuki eyed the ink-stained sheet of paper as if it was a snake about to strike. "Do you know what you''re doing?"


    "I''m trying to conjure light," Abihira said, brushing her hair out of her eyes and leaving an inky mark on her face. "If I can get the amount of magic right, I''ll be able to create lights that automatically turn on after sunset and turn off at dawn."


    Some of Abihira''s strange ideas were useful. Others... Well, no one was ever going to forget the Incident of the Mechanical Cake Mixer. Mirio was currently away visiting his mother''s family, so Kiriyuki had to take his place as Abihira''s designated babysitter and ensure there was no repetition of that incident.


    "We already have lights that turn on after dark," she said patiently. "They''re called gas lamps. Now clean up that ink. There''s a letter from your parents waiting for you in the house."


    Abihira paused in the middle of reaching for one of the mops leaning against the wall. "A letter? They sent one last week."


    Normally letters from her parents only came once a month. Kiriyuki knew that as well as Abihira.


    "I don''t know what it''s about," she said to forestall any more questions. "Get to work. The sooner you''re finished the sooner you''ll find out."


    Abihira sketched an even more dramatic bow. Kiriyuki rolled her eyes and walked out.


    <hr>


    Viniok Palace had many shrines. It was a chaotic collision of the gods worshipped by many different tribes. A reflection of the people who made up the royal court, some said. A complete mess, less charitable people said. The unfortunate side-effect of so many shrines to so many deities was worshippers turning prayers and devotion into a game of one-upmanship. In the last week alone more than ten officials were late for court because they were competing to see who could pray the longest.


    It was an endless headache. A headache that Kivoduin, as the prince''s chief adviser and second-in-command, was inevitably left to sort out.


    With all the trouble that religion caused her on a daily basis, it was unsurprising that Kivoduin had little time for it. Prince Ilaran, however, was surprisingly devout. And even more surprisingly, he worshipped a god that no one else in the palace had ever heard of.


    In any other place that would have prompted raised eyebrows. But this was Tananerl, a province that was less a province and more a loose confederation of tribes reluctantly working together. Ilaran never asked anyone else to worship his god with him, so no one bothered him about it.


    Perhaps it was something he''d learnt from his Ilsarrel[7] mother. Kivoduin never asked. It was none of her business, after all. The only effect it had on her was that it made him easy to find. When she heard he was praying, she knew exactly where to go and never had to send messengers to ten different shrines.


    Today she found him just where she expected to. It was a welcome relief after she spent an hour earlier hunting for the Minister of Revenue.


    "Your Highness," she said, bowing.


    Prince Ilaran acknowledged her with a nod and continued lighting the candles in front of the altar. After two hundred years of working for him Kivoduin knew what he meant without him needing to speak.


    "The carriage is ready, your Highness," she said. For a minute she paused, considering her next words. "If I may speak plainly?"


    "That is your job," Ilaran agreed, in the dry tone that meant he was teasing her. The candlelight cast flickers of red through his dark brown hair.


    Red is the colour of death in Saoridhl¨¦m, Kivoduin remembered. The shrine was warm, yet a coldness crept along her spine.


    "I have doubts about the wisdom of this journey," she managed to say, her mouth suddenly dry. "Remember your unfortunate uncle."


    Ilaran froze. Kivoduin suddenly felt like a rabbit who had blundered straight into a fox''s den. The sad fate of Prince Siarvin was rarely spoken of openly in the royal court. It was a cautionary tale, a warning that treachery could come from the last place anyone would expect. Few people ever dared mention it to Ilaran. For was it not the Saoridhins who worse than killed Siarvin, and was Ilaran not half-Saoridhin himself?


    "Believe me," the prince said, in a quiet but composed voice. He picked up the candle snuffer and began to extinguish the candles. "I''m only making this journey now because of my uncle."


    Kivoduin blinked in confusion. "I don''t understand."


    "You will soon."


    Ilaran extinguished the last candle and got up. Kivoduin continued to bow as he walked past her. She was left to wonder if the prince''s last sentence had sounded as ominous to him as it did to her.

 Chapter II: Beware of the Ghosts

    To live past the end of your myth is a perilous thing. -- Anne Carson


    "I don''t believe it!"


    Five hundred years ago the royal household would have been alarmed to hear angry shouting issue from the Prince Royal''s[1] palace. Unlike most of his family Prince Mirio had neither the inclination nor temperament for involving himself in court squabbles. In the past, shouting in his palace would have meant something was badly wrong somewhere. Now, however, the passing courtiers merely sighed and shook their heads. Inwardly they lamented that years of living in Seroyawa had still not taught Her Highness the Foreign Princess any discretion.


    Mirio''s palace was comparatively isolated. As the son of a concubine he had little chance of becoming emperor. As the son of a foreign concubine he had no chance at all. His mother was from Gengxin, and no self-respecting Seroyawan would allow someone with mixed blood to take the throne. An outsider would have assumed he was miserable and lonely. A reasonable assumption, but a completely wrong one.


    It was hard for anyone to be lonely when their siblings decided their house was the perfect place to meet and talk without interruption.


    Take today for example. Abihira paced back and forth across the room. Kiriyuki was too busy eating the sweets she''d brought to pay any attention to the others present. Mirio himself sat cross-legged on the floor, calmly drinking tea and pretending not to see the crumbs Kiriyuki dropped all around her. The two younger princes were out in the garden, holding a mock sword fight with twigs for swords and saucers for shields.


    "Sit down and drink your tea," Mirio said as Abihira passed the table for the fifteenth time. "It will go cold."


    Abihira sat down and muttered something in common Seroyawan[2]. "Is tea your answer to everything?"


    Kiriyuki snorted, a display of unladylike behaviour that would have scandalised her parents. "Just drink the tea. He''s like a mother hen. He''ll never be happy until you do."


    As she spoke she reached for another sweet. A small avalanche of sugar and crumbs fell from her clothes onto the floor. Mirio looked silently at the mess. His lips pursed ever so slightly and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Nearly two thousand years of growing up with him had left Kiriyuki able to read the smallest changes in his expression.


    "Sorry," she said without much sincerity. "I''ll sweep them up later."


    "Thank you," Mirio said serenely, pouring Abihira a fresh cup of tea.


    It was a strange -- and for their father, a rather unwelcome -- fact that Mirio, the son the emperor didn''t exactly dislike but would prefer to forget about, the child of a diplomatic union with a foreign woman the emperor had no interest in, understood the unspoken rules of accepted conduct much better than his four half-siblings. Kiriyuki and her full brothers and sister were the children of the empress, the woman the emperor admired, respected, and even loved in his own way. Yet they frequently excited disapproving looks with their lack of tact, behaviour that wasn''t quite impolite but certainly wasn''t polite enough either, and being far too free with their real opinions.


    Discretion and politeness were the most important things in the royal court. You could commit any sins you liked, be as corrupt as possible, and engage in backstabbing all day long, as long as you were discreet and polite while doing it. Abihira, as a foreigner, and Kiriyuki, as the Crown Princess, had some freedom to flout the court''s customs without facing severe disapproval. Mirio had no such security. From earliest childhood he had learnt that he had to follow the rules to the letter. Only people who had known him all his life were able to tell what he truly thought about anything.


    "You still haven''t told us why you''re angry," he said as he handed Abihira her teacup.


    She drank the tea all in one go, wrinkling her nose slightly at the taste. Not even more than five hundred years in Seroyawa could give her a fondness for green tea. "It''s that dratted letter." She would have used a stronger word than ''dratted'', but she caught Mirio''s eye in time. "My parents want me to go home next month. No reason, no warning, not even an apology for the short notice!"


    "I''m sure they have good reason for it," Mirio said.


    Abihira grimaced. "That''s what I''m afraid of."


    <hr>


    In the long lifespans of immortals a month passed by in an instant. Abihira was on her way to her parents'' house before she knew it. Her arrival at Yaruael Palace was a confused blur. Time only slowed down again when her parents summoned her to her mother''s study.


    It was an open secret in the royal family that Princess Hartanna and her second husband were at best indifferent to each other. They avoided spending time together as much as possible to ensure their indifference did not turn to outright hostility. Years before marrying Abihira''s father Hartanna had fallen in love with a commoner of no family or money. She had married him against her mother''s orders. No one had ever told Abihira the full story of what happened next. All she knew was that her mother''s first husband died, leaving her to raise their only child herself, until Grandmother arranged a marriage between Hartanna and one of her fifth cousins, Mihasrin Kiyalanilsilru. Abihira was the ninth of their children.


    Seeing how coldly distant they were towards each other, she sometimes thought her very existence was a minor miracle.


    Now she was faced with both her parents, apparently in agreement on some unknown subject. Abihira could have weaseled her way out of almost any situation if she was just dealing with her mother. She could have done the same, possibly with a bit more difficulty, if she was only in trouble with her father. But when confronted with both of them, with no idea what the problem was, she could only sit down and worry about why they were angry.


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    I know I kept my necromancy research well-hidden, she thought, unconsciously clenching part of her outer coat in her hands. Not even Kiriyuki knows about it.


    "Rilluintiar," Hartanna said, using Abihira''s kelros-name[3]. "We have something very serious to talk to you about."


    Abihira''s mind flew back to necromancy. Her grip on her coat tightened. She tried not to let her alarm show on her face. "What is it, Mother?"


    "Your marriage."


    Years of getting into trouble had taught Abihira to appear calm in almost any situation. She had a spiel of excuses ready for every sort of confrontation she could imagine. But nothing could have prepared her for that answer. She would have openly gaped if memories of Kiriyuki''s etiquette lessons hadn''t still lingered at the back of her mind.


    Every Saoridhin noble had an arranged marriage. Not every marriage went ahead. Sometimes one future spouse died. Sometimes scandal led to a match being broken off. Sometimes the betrothed people didn''t like each other and mutually agreed to call the marriage off. Still, the vast majority of betrothals ended in marriage, and the vast majority of marriages were fairly happy. Abihira knew this as well as she knew her own names. She also knew she was betrothed to a minor nobleman, and she knew her future husband fairly well.


    Some families believed it was best not to let a betrothed couple meet until shortly before the wedding. The Sinistrahs, the royal family of Saoridhin, had always believed this was nonsense. Abihira and Ir¨ªm¨¦ had played together as children, visited each other as adolescents, and exchanged letters as adults. They knew each other well enough. Perhaps they weren''t each other''s best friends, and they never fell head-over-heels in love, but Abihira could think of many worse men to marry.


    They also weren''t meant to marry until they were both over three thousand years old.


    Unless Abihira had hit her head and slept through more than one thousand five hundred years, this was much too early to talk about her marriage.


    Not to mention the reason she viewed marriage to anyone as a necessary evil. She could never love Ir¨ªm¨¦ the way spouses were supposed to love each other. She would always find marital duties a burden. It didn''t matter who she was betrothed to. She had never desired anyone, man or woman. Romantic love was something she was simply incapable of.


    Abruptly Abihira realised she was expected to say something.


    "My what," she said blankly.


    "Your marriage." Her father shook his head and frowned, looking as if he thought she was very stupid.


    Her mother nodded. "We''ve decided to... Well, it will happen sooner than we expected."


    Abihira tried frantically to think of something to say. She failed. Her mind had gone completely blank.


    "How much sooner?" she gasped after what felt like hours.


    "Sit down and let us explain," her father said.


    Abihira hadn''t even realised she''d stood up. She sat down again and waited, feeling as baffled as if she''d just been told snow was black.


    "There are two main reasons for our decision," Hartanna began, falling into the lecturing tone she used when called upon to explain something to people less intelligent than she was. "First, politics."


    I might have known, Abihira thought sourly. Politics was used to justify every sort of insanity imaginable.


    "Kumolnea-anfalen is," Hartanna paused and looked shamefaced, "not to put to fine a point on it -- an incompetent fool. She has no intention of standing down until her son is married. And her people are increasingly unhappy with her misrule. Rumour has it a rebellion is imminent."


    Serves Kumolnea right, Abihira thought. "So you want me to get married quickly so she''ll finally stand down."


    Her parents nodded approvingly.


    "Exactly," Mihasrin said. "Preferably before there is any unpleasantness. So your marriage will have to be... within the next five years."


    Very few people cope well with the news that an event they thought distant is suddenly looming over them. Immortals are no exception. Abihira could hardly have been more astonished if the sun fell out of the sky.


    Good grief, she thought, clutching the arm of the chair to steady herself. "I-- I see." She took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. "You said there were two reasons."


    Her parents exchanged a look.


    "Yes." Mihasrin frowned. "We''ve heard some very strange rumours about you. Meddling with dark magic and digging up graves."


    "It was only one grave," Abihira corrected without thinking. "And there was no one in it. I was testing--" She stopped abruptly when she remembered what she''d been testing. "Er-- I mean, I wanted to see what being in a grave was like."


    As excuses went that was an utterly terrible one. But she could hardly tell her parents that she had been searching for a vampire''s grave. There were certain skeletons it was better to leave in closets. The existence of vampires was one of those skeletons.


    Hartanna pursed her lips. "That''s exactly the sort of morbid fantasy we''ve been told you''re prone to. It has to stop. We don''t want certain rumours to start."


    "So you want me at home to keep an eye on me," Abihira finished for her.


    <hr>


    Raiv¨ªth Kiwarinsv¨®eln had been Empress of Saoridhin for the better part of twenty thousand years. She was old even by the standards of immortals. Very few people dared come into her presence without showing her the proper respect.


    And yet here was her cousin''s son, dressed in the bizarre fashions of the province he ruled, greeting her with only the most perfunctory bow. Worst of all he was wearing green[4].


    The colour of misfortune, Raiv¨ªth thought with distaste. No sane, civilised person would ever wear green.


    Such disrespect simply could not be tolerated!


    "Ilaran Kh¨ªralsilru," she greeted him in a frosty tone. "How nice to see you accepted our invitation. You were barely two hundred when I last saw you. I must hope you are wiser now."


    Her nephew held himself with the sort of stiffness that suggested he was ready for an attack. "I thought you knew, Aunt. My name is Ilaran Illessilru now."


    The temperature in the throne room plummeted. Raiv¨ªth contemplated trying to reason with him. At last she decided this was the wrong time. There would be other opportunities.


    "It has been many years since you last visited us," she said with forced politeness. "I daresay you''ll find many things have changed."


    Prince Ilaran gave her an equally forced smile. His tone was as frosty as hers. "In some things, Aunt, I''m sure I will find no changes."


    If he had been anyone else he would have been thrown out of the palace for his insolence. Unfortunately he was the son of Raiv¨ªth''s much-mourned cousin. It was too late to help poor Aderthril. Now all Raiv¨ªth could do was try to tolerate her son''s presence. He wouldn''t be here long. He was only here for the celebration of the Day of Comets. It was less than a month away. She was sure no one could cause much trouble in a month.


    "If you''ll excuse me, Aunt." The prince bowed abruptly. "I want to visit my uncle."


    He turned and stalked out without waiting to be dismissed. The courtiers gasped and muttered among themselves.


    Raiv¨ªth watched him leave with an ominous sense of foreboding.

 Chapter III: Necromancy

    There was always a haunted quality about the place, even before anything bad happened. -- Caroline Zancan, We Wish You Luck


    Everyone in Saoridhl¨¦m knew some version of the story. The trouble was, all the widely-known versions varied wildly in the most crucial details. As for the people involved in the story, they refused to say what really happened. Everyone pieced together their own account, full of mistakes and outright fiction.


    Not even Ilaran knew the full story. But he knew enough. One thousand and seven hundred years ago Prince Siarvin had been well-respected, increasingly powerful, and everything indicated he had a glittering career ahead of him. He could even have become the ruling prince of Tananerl. Then he visited Eldrin, capital of Saoridhl¨¦m. The next anyone heard of him, he had been embroiled in a scandal and accused of the most horrific crimes. Then the whole business was abruptly hushed up. Siarvin married a Saoridhin noblewoman and never returned to Tananerl.


    You didn''t have to be a genius to know there was a great deal missing from that story. Tananerl''s people believed Siarvin had been the victim of a conspiracy, possibly by his older brother or other rivals. Saoridhl¨¦m''s people believed he was a criminal who got off scot-free.


    Ilaran''s mother had believed her sworn-brother''s[1] wife had many sins to answer for. She had died without ever learning the truth. Ilaran''s princedom was finally secure enough for him to leave it unattended for an extended visit to Eldrin.


    He owed it to his uncle and the spirit of his mother to finally learn the truth.


    Passersby stopped and stared at him as he walked towards his uncle''s manor. Ilaran ignored them all. He''d spent his entire life getting disapproving looks from some part of his family. At least today there was a real reason for them. He knew perfectly well what connotation green had for the Saoridhins. He''d chosen his clothes today with that in mind. Let them scowl and mutter all they liked. He was long past caring. Centuries of scorn, deserved and undeserved, had a way of creating indifference in even the most sensitive person.


    Kastl¨¢n Manor was unusually large for the family home of a mere r¨²daun[2]. What was stranger was that it had two separate buildings. Haliran-r¨²daun lived in the main house. Her husband lived in the other one, and rarely left it even to visit his wife. Everyone took this as proof that their particular version of the story was true.


    The gate-keeper stared very hard at Ilaran when he approached. She took in the colour and style of his clothes, the lack of jewels braided through his hair[3], and the high, pointed griordul[4] he wore. She bowed and greeted him before he even spoke.


    "Your Highness," she said. "The lord is expecting you."


    Ilaran raised an eyebrow.


    I didn''t send word ahead, he thought suspiciously as he walked through the gate. The obvious solution struck him as he made his way towards his uncle''s house. Damn you, aunt. Stop meddling in my business!


    The front door opened as he reached the steps leading to it. Prince Siarvin looked down at him with weary resignation. Ilaran stopped and bowed low.


    "Greetings, uncle," he said in Siarvin''s native language.


    Siarvin shook his head. He looked awful, Ilaran realised when he straightened up. He was painfully thin, his eyes sunken and shadowed, and his hair lank and devoid of decoration. Even his clothes were a dull shade of brownish-red with no embroidery.


    "I told you not to come," he said in the same language. "There is nothing you can do here."


    "With respect, uncle, I disagree."


    Common sense said Siarvin was right. But Ilaran had inherited his mother''s stubbornness even though he inherited little else from her. He would learn the truth if it killed him.


    Some understanding of this showed in his uncle''s face. They stood looking at each other in silence for a long time. At last Siarvin sighed and stepped back.


    "Well, now you''re here you might as well come in. And for goodness'' sake, did you have to wear that colour? Everyone will say you''re an evil witch[5]!"


    <hr>


    There were many absurd stories in Neleth Ancalen. They claimed Ir¨ªm¨¦ had no heart, or else that he wasn''t really an immortal but one of the shapeshifting creatures his mother had found on one of her travels, or even that he was some sort of spirit.


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    Ir¨ªm¨¦ wished he knew who had started them. More to the point, he wished he knew why they started them. His mother had made it very clear over the centuries that he was going to marry into the royal family, and heaven help anyone who interfered with that plan. If his future in-laws heard some of the rumours they would be reluctant to let the marriage go ahead.


    Abihira herself probably wouldn''t care. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had known her all his life and he still didn''t know what to make of her. She was the only person he''d ever met who let a snake bite her just to see what would happen.


    Life had taken on an unreal, dream-like air as he prepared for his visit to the capital. He tried to cling to some semblance of normalcy. Like always he tended to the flowers in the greenhouse that he had planted himself. Like always he read books about mysterious and faraway places that he had never visited. Like always he attended every concert playing the music of composers he especially liked. But in the background he still heard people whispering about him when they thought he couldn''t hear. It didn''t quite hurt. People would always talk, about anyone and everyone. Yet he wished they wouldn''t tell such ridiculous stories.


    For the first time in many years his mother would accompany him to Eldrin. She had to discuss wedding dates and arrangements with Abihira''s parents. Ir¨ªm¨¦ just knew that meeting Abihira this time would be horribly awkward. It was one thing to think of their marriage as something far in the future. It was quite another to know it was practically just around the corner.


    On the day before they left he went out to the archery range for the first time in several months. For most of the day he fired at the targets again and again, until he could almost convince himself he''d silenced his dread of tomorrow. All the same, in the evening he went back to the house full of barely-smothered resentment -- towards his mother, towards the royal family, towards everyone who arranged his life for their convenience and never consulted him.


    I wish tomorrow was over, was his last conscious thought before he fell asleep.


    <hr>


    It took Abihira the better part of a week before she was able to slip away from the palace unobserved. If she was still in Seroyawa she would have had no difficulty avoiding everyone. But she hadn''t lived in her parents'' home for over five centuries. She first had to rediscover the best hiding places before she knew where to go.


    At last she found an old barn far out in the palace grounds. In winter it was used to store grain for the horses. In summer it was empty except for mice and a few pieces of horse tack.


    It was the last place anyone would expect necromancy would be practiced.


    Over the years she had found many ancient books full of long-forgotten magic she didn''t fully understand. Unfortunately for everyone she understood enough to piece together the general idea. Result: necromancy.


    She hadn''t gotten beyond the theoretical stage in Seroyawa. Now she had peace and quiet, her collection of notes, and a stack of mouse corpses in various stages of decomposition.


    First attempt, she scribbled in her notes, fresh corpse. She paused and looked at the dead mouse. It was missing most of its fur, and the smell made her nose wrinkle. She added "(relatively)" after "fresh corpse". Method: runes.


    There was just one problem. She couldn''t figure out what sort of runes the books'' authors had in mind. Most of them were from planets far away. Some were in languages she didn''t speak. Abihira flicked through a book before giving up.


    I''ll figure it out myself.


    She drew the runes generally used for "life" and "death". After a minute''s thought she added the Classical Seroyawan character that meant "become". Then she took a deep breath and reached out with her magic.


    Nothing happened. The runes might as well have been meaningless scribbles. Abihira shrugged and added a new line to her notes.


    Outcome: failure.


    Her second attempt could hardly be called an attempt. She tried to recite a spell. The problem was she didn''t know what spell to use.


    "I need better books," she grumbled.


    It was a pity the Saoridhin form of necromancy had been outlawed countless millennia ago. Records of it were practically nonexistent. The only surviving mentions she could find were about how evil and deadly it was. What a ridiculous overreaction to something that had never caused any harm and had actually helped solve some crimes. No one had even bothered to record why it suffered such a sudden and dramatic fall from grace.


    Next she tried magic on its own. This time she got a result. It just wasn''t the one she wanted. Before her astonished eyes the mouse''s corpse crumbled to dust.


    Third attempt, she scribbled in her notes. Her handwriting, never the neatest, now strongly resembled the wanderings of a drunken spider. Outcome: failure. Must find out what happened.


    <hr>


    She spent the rest of the afternoon trying to recreate the incident of the disintegrating mouse. Most of the corpses were completely unaffected. Some of them became notably more decomposed. Two even burst into fire, and one exploded. Abihira added increasingly illegible entries to her notes with each successive failure. She almost forgot what she had originally been trying to do.


    Then, to her own amazement, one of the corpses got to its feet. It took a few shambling steps before it collapsed. Abihira stared at it for several minutes. It never moved again.


    She grabbed her pen, splashed ink over the barn floor in her haste to write, and scribbled a barely-coherent account of the incident. Then she began trying to reanimate the mouse again.


    By the time the sun set she had managed to make most of the corpses move. The fully-skeletal ones were the easiest to control. With the still-intact ones she was fighting against rigor mortis, and usually it won. None of the reanimated mice stayed reanimated. As soon as she stopped using magic on them they always fell down and went back to being normal corpses. None of them were truly brought back from the dead. They were just puppets she forced to dance on her strings.


    Abihira wrapped her books and notes up in a waterproof horse blanket. Her mind was full of plans and possibilities as she went back to the palace. Obviously the next step was to try to actually create a living corpse. For that she would need a lot more practice. And more corpses. As many corpses as she could find.


    She just had to keep her parents from learning about it.

 Chapter IV: Visiting

    If you''re as strong and mighty as you say you are, you wouldn''t be afraid. -- Erin Entrada Kelly, Lalani of the Distant Sea


    Liameon Palace was widely considered the last word in elegance. If it was fashionable or expensive, Princess L¨ªusal Hartannasv¨®eln had it somewhere in her home. People would travel for miles just to get a glimpse of her famous collections.


    Abihira had witnessed Mirio''s ill-advised attempt at painting. She''d encountered a disturbing number of corpses in all stages of decomposition. She''d even been seen some of the more bizarre styles of clothing in both Seroyawa and Saoridhl¨¦m.


    Yet she had never seen such a cluttered eyesore as her older sister''s house.


    Pottery from five different eras shared a shelf with dolls made in Lianruil, sporting ghastly grins dressed in clothes so colourless and moth-eaten they were practically rags. No matter where she turned she found suits of armour, so flawlessly clean and undamaged it was obvious they had never been worn in a battle. An entire wing of the palace was devoted to opera costumes. Several rooms were given over to jewellery and headdresses -- most of them replicas of long-lost originals.


    How anyone can live in a glorified museum is beyond me, she thought, side-stepping a rug made of bedraggled phoenix feathers.


    L¨ªusal and her family lived at the back of the palace, where the sightseers were forbidden from intruding. It should have been easy for Abihira to find her way there. She was the princess''s sister. Her visit was expected. The servants at the entrance hall had told her where to go and even offered to lead her there. But she had stupidly thought it would be easy to find on her own. Now she was in a room displaying various carpets and rugs, and she had to admit she was well and truly lost.


    Transportation spells were one of the first things magicians learnt. They were also extremely unreliable when used indoors. If she tried to cast one here she would probably end up in L¨ªusal''s living room. Only problem was, she would probably also take the entire display room with her.


    Every immortal who was capable of telepathy could communicate with other immortals over great distances. Abihira had long since forgotten how to specifically send a message to L¨ªusal, even if she''d ever known it. Instead she broadcast a message to everyone in the house.


    This building is a damn maze, she shouted to anyone who cared to listen. Someone please tell me where I am!


    A vague feeling of surprised amusement brushed against the edges of her awareness, probably from the servants or the visitors. Telepathic communication was always clearest when between relatives or close friends. Abihira ignored the faint whispers of people laughing at her and waited for a more distinct response.


    It came fairly quickly.


    You little idiot! L¨ªusal''s voice was full of laughter and the smug superiority of older siblings everywhere. How did you get lost so easily?


    "Easily", she says, Abihira thought with a huff.


    L¨ªusal continued, Come downstairs. I''ll tell the servants to wait for you. Try not to get lost on the stairs.


    <hr>


    By the time the servants finally showed Abihira into her sister''s living room she would have happily raised an army of the dead just to destroy the house. The sight that greeted her was not calculated to improve her mood or raise her opinion of the palace. L¨ªusal''s living room was a riot of colour and tastelessness. Never before had Abihira seen wallpaper with stripes of magenta and sickly yellow. She hoped she never saw it again.


    "Hello, little sister. I hope you enjoyed your tour of the museum," L¨ªusal said, perfectly straight-faced. Wonder of wonders, she was dressed in a pale blue coat that was neither tacky nor hideous. Her maid deserved an award.


    Abihira was hardly able to respond to her greeting. She was too thunderstruck by the room''s sheer ugliness. If only a suitably sarcastic remark had presented itself! But her mind remained stubbornly empty of any comments, sarcastic or otherwise, and she sat down after speaking barely a full sentence.


    L¨ªusal sat down opposite her and stared at her with the blatant rudeness of an older relative about to say something very offensive. Abihira gritted her teeth and prepared for the worst. She wouldn''t let it affect her no matter what it was. She wouldn''t.


    "Well, I never thought you''d be a great beauty, but I must say I''m surprised at how ugly you are!"


    ...All right, that did sting. Abihira knew perfectly well she would never be listed among the most attractive royals. Her teeth were too sharp and crooked, her face too long and pointed, her nose much too harsh.


    It was also her unfortunate lot to always be around much more attractive people, and to look worse than she was in comparison. She had also spent over five hundred years in the same court as Kiriyuki, who had no shortage of admirers until they got close enough to be scared away, and Mirio, who on multiple occasions had caused outbreaks of swooning and awful poetry among the young ladies of the court just by existing. As if that wasn''t bad enough her fianc¨¦ was commonly called one of the most beautiful men of his generation -- though it must be said that Abihira had never noticed anything extraordinary about him.


    (What was so wonderful about him, anyway? He had black hair? So did she. So did half the people on the planet. He had blue eyes? Again, so did she -- if you stretched the definition of "blue" far enough to include "silver[1]". So did countless others. No matter how often she thought about it she still didn''t understand all the fuss.)


    Anyway, it was disgusting hypocrisy on L¨ªusal''s part to call Abihira ugly when she was no beauty herself.


    "At least I don''t look like a gorsim[2] dressed up in a peasant''s hand-me-downs," she retorted.


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    L¨ªusal''s eyes widened until she looked like she was doing an impression of a gorsim. "You little--"


    The door opened. Hostilities ceased at once. Both women schooled their expressions into polite indifference and tried to look as if they were only talking about the weather. Abihira expected a servant would enter with kainoren[3] and snacks. Instead an only too familiar figure appeared.


    "There you are, little sister!"


    Abihira gave a most undignified screech and tried to jump over the back of the chair. Not him! Of all the people it could have been, why did it have to be him? She''d thought she was safe from him at L¨ªusal''s house. He couldn''t stand L¨ªusal! What was he doing here?


    The bane of her existence, the nightmare she''d thought she''d escaped, the worst pest she''d ever had the misfortune to encounter advanced on her with the wide grin that always warned he was about to play an especially nasty trick.


    "I only heard yesterday you were back in the city," Arafaren said. He spared L¨ªusal only the briefest of nods. Even in the midst of her shock Abihira noted their older sister did not look pleased to see him. "What did you do this time? Whatever it was, I would have helped if you''d asked me."


    That was only too true. Of all her siblings Arafaren was the closest in age to Abihira, and they had been expected to play together for most of their childhood. They had alternated between being bosom friends and sworn enemies. When they were adolescents Arafaren had gone through a phase of pranking the people around him -- usually Abihira -- on a daily basis. She had been the victim of far too many tricks before she finally lost her patience and pranked him in return. The resulting war had robbed everyone of peace for years. Occasionally they had teamed up. The memory of those incidents made even the bravest tremble.


    "I didn''t do anything," Abihira said when she had somewhat recovered. She eyed her brother suspiciously. It didn''t look like he was holding anything in his hands, but the last time she assumed that, he dropped a centipede on her head. "Look, if you''re going to play a trick on me, do it and get it over with."


    Arafaren had the audacity to look offended. "How old do you think I am? I grew out of that childish nonsense a century ago."


    Really, Abihira thought. I could have sworn you were still playing jokes fifty years ago.


    The unfortunate incident of Grandmother''s hat was not easy to forget. Some memory of it seemed to strike Arafaren too. He winced and looked ashamed.


    "Well, I''ve grown out of most of it," he corrected himself. "But why are you here? I couldn''t believe it when Mother told me where you''d gone. I can''t think of anywhere more boring."


    L¨ªusal made an insulted noise.


    "Mother gave me a list of relatives to visit," Abihira said. She relaxed slightly as minutes ticked by and Arafaren still showed no signs of dropping centipedes on her. But she still kept a watchful eye on him. The memory of L¨ªusal''s earlier remark prompted her to add, "I came here first to get the worst over with."


    L¨ªusal made another insulted noise. Neither of her siblings paid any attention to her.


    "I got a letter from your foster brother," Arafaren said, reaching into his pocket. Abihira prepared herself for the pranks to begin. Instead he took out a slightly rumpled sheet of paper covered with Mirio''s distinctive spidery handwriting. "Couldn''t understand most of it. Something about keeping you away from graveyards. But he says--" He paused to find his place in the letter. "Where did I see that? Oh, there it is. ''Tell her to give our regards to any corpses she meets, and to beware of hungry ghosts.'' I was up most of the night trying to figure out what in the Twelve Realms he meant by that. So please, have pity on me and let me in on the joke!"


    Abihira only just stopped herself from facepalming. Of all the people Mirio could have written to, he chose Arafaren, and of all the things he could have said, he wrote that. He had to be trying to make sure she didn''t meddle with necromancy. She was sure of it.


    "None of your business," she said, making a mental note to send Mirio -- and Kiriyuki, who was sure to be involved somehow -- a strongly-worded letter about minding their own business.


    Arafaren opened his mouth. Behind him L¨ªusal''s scowl suggested she was about to start one of her lectures. Abihira took stock of the situation and decided discretion was the better part of valour.


    "Oh my, look at the time!" she exclaimed, jumping up. "I''ll be late!"


    She ran out of the room before they had a chance to respond. Behind her, she heard Arafaren say, "What in the world was that about?"


    <hr>


    For the next few days Abihira had no time to worry about necromancy, Mirio, or Arafaren''s tricks. Not only had her parents summoned her home unexpectedly, they''d done it right before a festival. She had to listen to arguments about wedding arrangements while also choosing a suitable outfit for the Day of Comets. She wrote a short and painfully awkward letter to Ir¨ªm¨¦ while her parents discussed the wording of the invitations. The one time she saw her grandparents, it was for less than an hour and all they wanted to talk about was the wedding too.


    At last she got a chance to leave the palace unnoticed. She went straight to the royal crypt. She couldn''t try any necromancy there. Even the most unobservant people would notice if a long-dead emperor walked out of the crypt. But it was quiet, out of the way, and rarely visited. There she might finally have a chance to look over her notes.


    Most of the royal palaces were close together and connected by avenues and winding roads. The crypt was set behind them, and could be accessed from almost all of them. Including Yaruael Palace. Abihira brought a bouquet of flowers with her, just in case anyone wondered what she was doing.


    The doors were never locked. There was no reason for them to be, when nothing valuable was stored in the crypt and grave-robbers would never dare break in. She pushed them open and stopped abruptly. Someone must already be in the building. The gas lamps were lit, casting a pale light on the stairs leading down to the graves.


    Abihira almost turned and walked out again. Just when she finally thought she''d get peace and quiet...!


    It would look odd if I didn''t leave the flowers, she thought as she hesitated at the top of the stairs.


    She pushed her notes deeper into her pocket and stepped forward. Her footsteps echoed around her until it sounded like a large crowd was following.


    When she reached the main crypt she at first thought she was alone after all. The royal crypt was a vast place with three different levels. The most important graves, those of past monarchs, were closest to the main stairs and the easiest to reach. Royals from lesser branches were buried in the sections set aside for their family. It was easy to look over the graves and have a good view of most of the top level. Yet there was no one in sight.


    The guard must have left the light on, she thought. How careless.


    Abihira made her way to her family''s plot. There was a memorial to one of her brothers there. A memorial, but no grave. Everyone would expect her to leave the flowers there. She rounded Emperor Fenmaer''s grave and stopped in her tracks.


    The crypt wasn''t empty.


    Her first illogical thought was that a vengeful spirit had taken up residence. The bright green clothes of the figure sitting cross-legged in front of a tomb certainly gave that impression. Common sense took over almost immediately. With some embarrassment she realised it was just a normal -- if eccentric -- immortal.


    The person looked up. He wasn''t one of her siblings, or cousins, or any of the other relatives she would recognise on sight. The first thing she noticed about him was that he had bright green eyes to match his clothes.


    How unlucky, she thought.


    That was quickly followed by the realisation he had been crying. Tear-tracks stained his pallid face. He turned away again and wiped his face with his sleeve.


    "Sorry to bother you," Abihira said, feeling suddenly very awkward. No one liked to be interrupted while crying.


    She moved on and found a different path to her family plot. She didn''t see the stranger again.

 Chapter V: A Fairy-tale of Lies

    A nightmare for some, for others a saviour I come, my hands cold and bleak, it''s the warm hearts they seek. What am I? (Answer: death.) -- Unknown


    In the end it was the crypt that gave Abihira an idea. Why should she go looking for corpses when she could find them by the dozen in graveyards?


    Immortals were not truly immortal. They got their name through a series of misunderstandings, bad translations, and outright lies. They lived far longer than the mortals they encountered on other planets. But they could die. They could be killed. Every city, town and village had its own graveyard. Every building''s foundation was laid among the dust of long-dead immortals. Dig deep enough in the ground beneath her feet and she knew she would find the bone fragments of forgotten people who had once thought they could never die.


    Maybe one day I''ll be able to bring them back, Abihira thought, idly scuffing the ground with her foot.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ was supposed to arrive this afternoon. He was going to stay for the festival, Grandmother would make the formal announcement of the upcoming wedding afterwards, and then he would go home until shortly before the actual wedding. Abihira''s parents were running around like headless chickens, making last-minute preparations and getting in each other''s way. The chaos quickly got too much for her, so she brought some of her books -- the "harmless" ones, with no mention of necromancy -- out to the garden. Now she sat in one of the swings her oldest sister had built years ago, with a book open in her lap and her thoughts miles away.


    At some point she would have to have a serious conversation with Ir¨ªm¨¦. Partly about the necromancy. She had no intentions of giving that up for anyone. But also about her feelings towards him. Or lack thereof.


    She knew perfectly well that Ir¨ªm¨¦ didn''t love her any more than she loved him. He was only a friend, and not even her best friend. Perhaps he knew her feelings already. She had never made any attempt to hide her lack of romantic interest. Even so, it was only fair to tell him the truth now. It would be horribly awkward and embarrassing, but it would save so much trouble later.


    For all she knew he might very well be the same as her. Never in their long acquaintance had he showed any hint of attraction to her or any other woman. Or to any man, for that matter.


    The book slipped out of her hands and landed on the grass with a dull thump. The sound brought her thoughts back to reality and out of the rabbit trails they''d run down. For a minute she couldn''t even remember what she''d been thinking of earlier.


    Oh yes. Graveyards.


    If it wasn''t for that dratted festival she would have found no difficulty in leaving the palace for as long as she wanted to. Perhaps her parents would have insisted she take a maid or two with her. Even that wasn''t certain; she was far enough down the line of succession that no assassin or kidnapper would find her a worthwhile target. And her years in Seroyawa had ensured most people didn''t know what she looked like, probably didn''t know she was back in Eldrin, and in any case they didn''t particularly care.


    But now her parents wouldn''t leave her alone for an hour at a time. Unless they sent her off to visit her motley assortment of nearby relatives, every day was an eternal succession of, "Abihira! What do you think of this dress?" or "We have to plan the menu!" or something equally exasperating. Sometimes they even telepathically asked her questions while she was trying to have a conversation with whoever she was visiting.


    If this was a real marriage, Abihira would have asked Ir¨ªm¨¦ to elope with her by now.


    Right on cue her mother''s voice telepathically filled her head. Abihira! Come and have a look at wedding jewellery.


    Abihira got up with a grimace. At this rate she''d need to run away to the mountains to get any peace.


    <hr>


    Trains and airships were a relatively new innovation. Which meant they''d existed for almost eighty years but most people still viewed them as unreliable. From a logical standpoint it was perfectly understandable; everyone except small children had been alive before they were invented.


    Understandable or not, Ir¨ªm¨¦ still thought those people were fools.


    Of course that might be because his mother was one of them. All his life Ir¨ªm¨¦ had heard about filial piety and respecting his elders. They were fine ideas in theory. They just were incredibly hard to put into practice. Especially when his mother insisted on dragging a collection of charms around with her.


    What use would a few bits of rock be against a train accident? he thought, watching her place the charms around her chair.


    "Here," Kumolnea said. She handed him several pieces of polished and painted stone. "Keep those with you all the time."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ eyed them with distaste. They couldn''t be more obviously just ordinary stone that a charlatan sold as "magic". The paint was flaking off most of them.


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    Attempting to point this out would have started an argument, and he would rather avoid the inevitable unpleasantness that would bring. He took the rocks without a murmur and dropped them into his mother''s suitcase when she wasn''t looking.


    Half-way through the train journey Kumolnea spotted an old acquaintance and wandered off to speak to her. Ir¨ªm¨¦ waited until he was sure she''d leave him alone for a while. Then he took his notebook and pencil out of his pocket and began making notes for the next chapter of his novel.


    His writing was the only thing he had that was something only he knew about. Well, Abihira knew. It was hard to keep her from finding out when he once accidentally sent her a partially-completed chapter instead of a letter. She had sent it back with a list of comments, not all of them quite to his liking, and they never mentioned it again. His family knew he wrote "scribbles". None of them cared enough to question him about it.


    If he had the courage he would have sent his stories to one of the monthly serials. But the dread of their hard work being rejected -- or worse, published and mocked -- made cowards of all but the bravest writers. Ir¨ªm¨¦''s writing was just a hobby. It could never be anything more.


    He read over his summary of the last few chapters, only just stopped himself making a few important changes to them, and began work on the next one. For the rest of the journey he was happily occupied by the trials and tribulations of his unfortunate heroes.


    <hr>


    "So, Prince Ilaran is visiting again? Can''t imagine why he bothers wasting his time here when he can find a larger audience for his spite in the Silver Palace. I''ll tell the servants to bring over a dust-pan and broom. They''ll need them to clear away the remains of shattered reputations when he''s said his piece."


    Haliran''s tone was as mocking as usual, with even more barely-veiled cruelty than normal. Siarvin ignored her and continued brushing his hair. Shizuki had been brushing it for him before his wife decided to pay one of her infrequent visits. He had slipped away as soon as she was announced. For reasons they all knew only too well, it was best if Shizuki was never in the same room as Haliran.


    She paced to and fro across Siarvin''s bedroom. At least she wasn''t angry enough to start destroying his belongings yet. He watched her every move in his mirror, relieved to note she hadn''t brought her sword with her this time.


    "Why does he keep coming here?" she demanded, turning to glare at Siarvin. "What are you telling him?"


    Siarvin separated his hair into strands and began to braid it. "Stories about his mother, mostly. He has far too few memories of her."


    The mention of Princess Aderthril stopped Haliran in her tracks. For the briefest of moments she looked genuinely regretful. Perhaps she was. Siarvin had once thought he was a good judge of character, but Haliran had fooled him too many times for him to believe anything she said or did.


    The man he had been before would have tried to order her out by now. The man he had become knew her too well and was just too tired to try. It was easier to accept things as they were. Fighting would only hurt him.


    "He tells me about Tananerl," he continued, tying his braid with a grey ribbon. "It''s changed a great deal."


    For a minute it looked like Haliran was about to say something more. Siarvin held her gaze through the mirror, silently daring her to object. His life was nothing but an endless procession of putting up with things. But even he had his limits. Heaven help her if she tried to cut him off from the one remaining relative who gave a damn about him.


    Centuries of marriage had at least taught Haliran when to back down. She muttered something and turned to leave.


    Shizuki''s head popped around the doorframe as soon as the front door closed behind her. "Please let me poison her."


    Siarvin smiled and shook his head at the familiar plea. He was never quite sure if Shizuki was joking. Deep in his heart of hearts he hoped he wasn''t. "Now, now. She is your birth mother, after all. No one likes matricide."


    His step-son pouted. It was a childish gesture so utterly out of place on the face of someone who was half snake spirit, with the unblinking yellow eyes to prove it.


    "Announcing Prince Ilaran!" a guard shouted outside.


    Siarvin got up and walked into the main room. Shizuki turned into his snake form and slithered after him. He coiled around one of the room''s pillars and watched silently.


    "Let him in," Siarvin called to the guard.


    The door opened and Ilaran walked in. He hesitated mid-step at the sight of a large green snake staring at him. He recovered more quickly than most people did, and bowed as if nothing had happened.


    "Hello, uncle," he said. He paused, then bowed again to the snake. "Hello, Lord[1] Shizuki. It''s a pleasure to meet you at last."


    He sounded almost sincere. Siarvin and Shizuki exchanged a look. Most people reacted to Shizuki''s snake form by running away. Even the ones who stayed couldn''t hide their discomfort.


    The snake slithered down the pillar and turned back into Shizuki''s immortal form. This was the moment when almost everyone would look away in disgust. Siarvin watched Ilaran''s reaction carefully. Apart from the faintest shiver, he showed no revulsion at Shizuki''s eyes, or the way the light shining on his skin gave the slightest hint of scales, or his unnaturally smooth movements.


    Shizuki and Ilaran stared at each other for a long time. At last Shizuki smiled -- an awkward smile, since he consciously tried not to reveal his fangs and forked tongue.


    "I like you," he announced with the air of one revealing a great secret.


    Potential crisis averted, Siarvin thought with relief. "Sit down, both of you. Have some tea."


    Ilaran sat down in the chair opposite Siarvin. Shizuki sat cross-legged on the floor beside him. He watched every move Ilaran made with an intensity that would have been thoroughly alarming to people not used to him.


    "No matter what you say, I''m going to make sure Haliran suffers," Ilaran began with all the tact and subtlety of a shaberos[2] in a well-stocked larder. He didn''t even wait for Siarvin to hand him his tea. "If you want I''ll try to keep Shizuki out of it. I assume that''s why you introduced me to him now?"


    Shizuki shook his head. He continued to stare at Ilaran like a cat watching a mouse. "I wanted to meet you. And I want everyone to know her sins. I want her to bleed."


    "I''ve heard something more," Siarvin said quickly, before they could get into dangerous territory. There were many secrets in this house that he didn''t want to reveal just yet. Shizuki''s origins were among them. "Have you heard of Princess Abihira?"


    "Which one?" Ilaran asked.


    "Princess Hartanna''s daughter."


    Ilaran thought for a minute. "The one who tried to break into the forbidden archives and got arrested?"


    "That''s her." No one who had heard about that momentous occasion would ever forget it. "Haliran''s got the idea she''s a mage. I don''t know if it''s true. But if you have a chance, find her and warn her to stay away from Haliran at all costs."

 Chapter VI: The Curious Case of the Walking Dead

    Would you like to live with your soul in the grave? -- Emily Bront?, Wuthering Heights


    Abihira''s first successful necromancy (necromancing? She needed to find a good word for it) happened completely by accident. It was on her first visit to a different planet since her return home. For once she was visiting someone of her own volition, instead of ticking names off a list her parents gave her.


    She hadn''t seen Kitrit¨²r Nenimyssv¨®eln for over four hundred years. Her old friend had inherited lands here, on the planet Muirus 9436, half-way across the galaxy from Vanerth[1]. Abihira had only visited Muirus 9436 once before. Her impression of the place was that it was tiny, unimportant, and its code numbers were a blasted nuisance to remember. Unfortunately they were necessary. Leave them off entirely and she might end up getting on a spaceship for a completely different part of the galaxy. Forget some of the numbers and she''d find herself sent to one of its moons.


    She knew better than to try a transportation spell. They were rarely reliable at the best of times. Attempt to travel thousands of light-years by one, and she''d end up in a black hole or somewhere equally undesirable. So there was nothing for it but to pack some clothes and set off for the spaceport.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ had arrived the day before. For the next week at least he would be dragged into the middle of endless wedding preparations, and it was useless to even think of trying to talk to him yet. Since she had nothing better to do, and would go stark raving mad if forced to look at another menu or list of decorations, now was the perfect time to go visiting.


    The spaceship covered the distance between the two planets in less than a day. Abihira watched Muirus 9436 grow steadily larger through the windows. An idea began to form in the back of her mind as they entered its atmosphere. It took on form as they landed in the spaceport. By the time she picked up her suitcase and walked off the ship, it was almost definite.


    Kitrit¨²r had once helped her in several of her experiments with not-dark-but-not-exactly-light magic. She had volunteered to be turned into a frog, been put under mind-control (that failed miserably, since she did the exact opposite of what the spell told her to), helped steal bone fragments from the royal physician''s stores, and generally done things that would leave normal people worrying about her sanity. Who better to help Abihira with necromancy?


    As soon as she entered the main spaceport she found Kitrit¨²r herself waiting. At first she didn''t recognise her. Gone were the long flowing outer robes of the Saoridhians. Instead Kitrit¨²r wore the brocade skirt, tunic, and capelet commonly worn on Muirus 9436. Abihira blinked and did a double take.


    Her surprise must have shown, because Kitrit¨²r burst out laughing. "Your face! You look like you''ve seen a ghost!"


    What an astonishingly appropriate remark, considering what Abihira was thinking about.


    Kitri abruptly stopped laughing. She took a step forward and stared very hard at Abihira. She was so much shorter than her old friend that she had to crane her head back to look her in the face, and Abihira had to look down at such a sharp angle that her chin was almost touching her collarbone. Abihira took a step back to spare both of them a sore neck.


    "You''re planning something, aren''t you." Kitri sounded simultaneously curious and apprehensive.


    "Perhaps," Abihira agreed.


    There was a short silence. Well, as much silence as was ever possible in a busy spaceport. Kitri''s face went through a series of complicated emotions, beginning and ending with reluctant resignation.


    "Please tell me you won''t turn me into a frog again."


    Abihira laughed. "Don''t worry. There are no frogs involved. At all."


    <hr>


    "I don''t believe you!" Kitri''s voice was a piercing wail.


    Abihira shrugged. "You said no frogs. Well, there are none."


    "But necromancy! Are you serious? Necromancy!" On the final word she reached a note normally reserved for opera singers and air raid sirens.


    In spite of her objections she accompanied Abihira to the nearest graveyard. But she complained the whole way.


    <hr>


    Three hours, an empty marketplace and a zombie apocalypse later, Kitri had only one thing to say.


    "I told you so!"


    <hr>


    "It seems," Abihira began, with the air of someone imparting pearls of rare wisdom, "that we have a slight problem."


    Kitri scowled at her over her fourth glass of adakler[2]. It was ironically a relief that the walking dead had frightened away everyone in the public house. Neither of them had brought any money with them, and Kitri desperately needed a drink.


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    She''d point-blank refused to allow Abi anywhere near the bar. The last thing they needed was a drunk necromancer.


    "Have you just realised that now?" Kitri asked, voice full of sarcasm mingled with abject misery.


    Abi, who was becoming a strong competitor for the title of "world''s worst friend", pretended not to hear her.


    "It was easy enough to wake them up," she said. "It should be easy enough to put them back to sleep. But if I do it here their bodies will fill the whole town."


    A walking corpse shambled into the pub. It walked right into a table. Instead of moving around the table, it continued trying to walk in a straight line. Again and again it collided with the table. Kitri shook her head as she watched.


    "Your creations haven''t the sense the gods gave to ducks," she grumbled. She reached over the bar and filled her glass again.


    Abi shrugged. "I suppose decomposition isn''t good for their brains. We''ll have to herd them back to the graveyard."


    "You will," Kitri corrected her. "This whole sorry mess is all your fault. I''ll have nothing more to do with it."


    In the background the unfortunate corpse was still fighting with the table. Kitri had never seen such a one-sided battle in her life. Abi finally took pity on it. She got up, took its partially-decayed arm, and turned it round so it faced the door. It shambled out again to rejoin its friends.


    "I can''t just tell them where to go," Abi said thoughtfully. "Look at them; I don''t think any are able to see or hear very well. So I''ll have to lead them back in person."


    Kitri snorted. "The ghost and the catacomb of ancient days[3], then. But with corpses instead of politicians. A fine sight you''ll look, with the walking dead following you like ducklings!"


    Leave it to Abihira to take her literally.


    <hr>


    It took a long time for the people who lived in the town to risk coming back to the marketplace. They only dared go when armed and backed up by the full police force. When they arrived they found the place in general disarray and smelling strongly of rotting meat. But there wasn''t a single corpse to be seen.


    For years afterwards a puzzling rumour persisted. No one ever knew where it came from. No one knew anyone who could confirm it. Still it lingered like an unquiet spirit.


    Someone had come to the marketplace that day, it said. Someone walked among the corpses and wasn''t afraid of them. Someone called them to follow, and they obediently fell in line.


    A new rumour started that day. A rumour of horrors long forgotten and nightmares abroad in the light of day.


    There is a necromancer in the kingdom, it said. They flout the natural order for their own selfish gain. Beware!


    <hr>


    An outbreak of undeath was not the sort of thing that could escape notice. It was practically calculated to draw widespread attention and create endless talk. When Abihira returned from her eventful visit she found the news had even reached Eldrin.


    "It''s extraordinary," Hartanna said at dinnertime. Abihira, Arafaren, Ir¨ªm¨¦, and Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mother were the only other people present. Mihasrin was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he had reached the limit of how much he could tolerate his wife''s company -- or vice versa. "Muirus 9436 is the last place you would ever expect a necromancer. Why, Abi-shol[4] was there when it happened! She might have been in danger and we''d never have known!"


    Abihira froze. Even without looking up from her plate she felt Arafaren staring at her from his place beside Ir¨ªm¨¦. If anyone would put two and two together, it was the planet''s worst prankster who already had reason to associate her with ghosts.


    Curse you, Mirio! she thought, viciously stabbing her fork into a slice of carrot that had done nothing to deserve the treatment. Why did you send him that letter?


    The conversation moved on to less dangerous topics. Well, slightly less dangerous. Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mother talked everyone''s ears off about her plan to capture a sea serpent. Abi thought of Mirio again, and of Kiriyuki. They would have been very offended by the idea of anyone catching a sea serpent.


    Her thoughts moved back to Seroyawa in general. This evening''s dinner was perfectly normal venison steak and vegetables. Looked at objectively there was nothing wrong with it. Yet suddenly she felt a strong longing for hayumari[5] or nekewo[6]. For the first time it sank in that she would never live in Seroyawa again. She''d never make necklaces out of seashells with Kiriyuki again, or lose a dozen games of kinin[7] to Mirio. Her eyes began to prickle ominously.


    Abihira attacked her steak with renewed violence. She was not going to start crying at the dinner table. Especially not in front of her future husband. She''d never live it down.


    At last she thought it was safe to look up. She glanced at Arafaren, pleased to see he was preoccupied with his dinner, then looked at Ir¨ªm¨¦. He was gazing right at her with a mildly puzzled expression. The light from the gas lamps caught on the blue opals in his hair, making his already pale skin even paler in comparison. His eyes seemed unnaturally large and almost white.


    Abi had looked at corpses, ghosts, ghouls, and all manner of frightening things. Ir¨ªm¨¦''s face in that moment struck her more forcibly than any of them ever had.


    "Is something wrong?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked quietly. "You look shaken."


    Thank goodness he didn''t say I look like I''ve seen a ghost, Abi thought, barely suppressing a fit of most unsuitable giggles. "Don''t worry, my eyes were just playing tricks on me. How did the wedding preparations go?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ shuddered. "Please don''t mention them."


    "That bad?" She gave a smile of commiseration. "Cheer up. Sooner or later they''ll forget about it and start thinking about the festival instead."


    Judging by the look on his face, Ir¨ªm¨¦ did not find this reassuring.


    <hr>


    News of the zombie apocalypse had also reached Seroyawa. Kiriyuki heard it from her ladies-in-waiting. Mirio heard it from the court officials. Both of them immediately came to the same conclusion.


    They met in Mirio''s palace as soon as the court''s business was finished for the day. A glance at both their dismayed faces and each knew the other had already heard.


    "No need to ask who''s responsible," Kiriyuki said with a groan. "Why didn''t we stop her?"


    "I tried." Mirio sat down at the table with none of his usual poise and grace. "I wrote to her brother. I thought he''d stop her from doing something so foolish."


    Kiriyuki snorted. "How very helpful. You''d never be able to stop me; why should he be any different? We need a better plan. Somehow we have to save that little idiot from herself!"

 Chapter VII: Shizuki

    And so, that is it now. Not even a memory of light remains. -- Helaena C. Moon


    Ilaran had spent almost his entire life in Tananerl. He hadn''t been born there, something he would very much like to forget for more than one reason, but it had been his home for so long it had almost become part of him. Immortals had a curious way of getting strongly attached to the place where they lived. Especially when they rarely ventured away from it. (Rumour had it some very old ones had actually become part of their homelands, part of the wind and the grass and the trees.)


    Unfortunately this meant that leaving his home was almost physically painful. It was like pulling an old tree up from its roots and replanting it somewhere else, in unfamiliar ground under an unfamiliar sky, and expecting it to do well there. He spent his first two weeks in Eldrin almost hibernating in his wing of the Kelth¨ªr Palace[1]. He ventured out only to visit his uncle, or to pray at his mother''s grave. It wasn''t until just over a week before the Day of Comets that he finally felt able to go into Saoridhin society.


    Even then he still felt dizzy and off-balance as he wrote to accept Prince Mihasrin''s invitation to a dinner party. Ilaran had spent decades studying calligraphy. His handwriting was one of the few things about himself he could take genuine pride in. Yet today the lines were wobbly. The letters ran together. He crumpled up several attempts and started again. It made no difference. In disgust he scribbled the letter as quickly as possible and sealed it without looking at it again.


    For the first time he would have a chance to pass Siarvin''s warning on to Princess Abihira. He still hadn''t thought of how. He knew perfectly well he''d already gained a reputation for being odd. Even so, walking up to a stranger at a dinner party and giving her a strange message would convince everyone he was a complete madman. What could he say anyway? "My aunt-by-marriage is planning something and she intends to use you because she thinks you''re powerful enough to be a mage. Yes, I know there have been no mages for millennia and if you really were one the whole world would have heard of it by now." He could just imagine Princess Abihira''s reaction.


    Ilaran sent a servant to deliver the letter before he gave into the temptation to rewrite it for the umpteenth time.


    When he closed the door and turned around he found a snake on his desk.


    Snakes were a far too common sight in Tananerl. The vast majority of them were poisonous. And they had a most unpleasant tendency to get into the places they were least wanted. Ilaran''s hand instinctively moved to one half of the hulaee[2] at his waist. The snake watched him, motionless and apparently unconcerned. He forced himself to let go of the hilt.


    "Hello, Lord Shizuki," Ilaran said, clasping his hands in front of him and trying to pretend he hadn''t almost attacked his cousin.


    The snake''s appearance shifted and distorted until it was gone and Shizuki sat on the desk in its place. He swung his legs over the side like a small child perched on a chair too high for it. His plain loose robes had the same green colour and mottled brown stripes as his scales. For a minute Ilaran wondered if his scales became clothes, or if his clothes became scales.


    "Hu. Lo," Shizuki said. His mouth moved awkwardly as he tried to form the word.


    For the first time Ilaran realised having fangs and a forked tongue must make clear communication a nightmare. No wonder Shizuki had barely spoken in any of their previous meetings, apart from in that first meeting.


    Ilaran''s mother had beaten -- not physically, but the verbal equivalent -- certain rules of proper conduct into his head since before he was old enough to understand the difference between politeness and rudeness. One of them was that hospitality must be shown to all guests, no matter how unexpected, unwanted, or unusual.


    "Would you like some tea?" Ilaran asked.


    Shizuki nodded. He shuffled closer to the edge of the desk, rested his elbows against his knees, and propped his chin up on his hands. His wide, unblinking eyes never left Ilaran as the older man stirred up the fire and poured water into the kettle. It would have been very unnerving for anyone else. But Ilaran had prepared tea under far more stressful circumstances, including in an old theatre converted into a makeshift hospital while a battle raged right outside the door. It took a great deal more than his strange sort-of cousin to faze him.


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    Making tea was one of the few practical things every noble learnt as a child. Ilaran''s mother had taken it a step further and insisted he learn how to prepare his own meals, mend his own clothes, and tidy his own room. Ilaran glanced over at Shizuki, sitting perilously close to his writing supplies, and thought he would likely need to tidy his room by the time this visit was over.


    As the tea brewed he took the opportunity to study Shizuki as closely as Shizuki was studying him. He had often heard of this almost-relative''s existence. Some very disturbing rumours circulated about his origins. What Ilaran had known about him before their first meeting could be summed up in two sentences. He was Haliran''s bastard, the result of an affair with a snake spirit[3] from Seroyawa. Siarvin took pity on him -- for reasons known only to himself -- and adopted him as his son.


    There was no way to deny that Shizuki''s immortal form was unsettling. But once Ilaran could look past the snake-like yellow eyes, he could see the resemblance to Haliran. Their faces were the same shape, they both had slightly pointed chins, and Shizuki''s nose was almost as sharp as Haliran''s. No one who had seen both of them could deny they were related.


    According to rumour Haliran had tried to kill her newborn son when she realised his appearance revealed her sin to the entire world. He was sceptical of most rumours, but Ilaran was inclined to believe that one. It fitted in perfectly with what else he knew of Haliran.


    "How old are you?" he asked, mainly to fill the silence, as he poured out cups of tea for both of them.


    Shizuki answered slowly and with a pause after every word, taking care to speak distinctly. "Five. Hundred. And. Two. Last. Summer."


    Five hundred and two. Barely even an adolescent[4]. No wonder he hadn''t learnt yet to change his appearance into something less... serpentine. In the vast life-spans of immortals it wasn''t very long at all. Ilaran pursed his lips as he remembered his own childhood and adolescence. For most people''s perspective that hadn''t been long either. Yet it cast a long shadow over the rest of his life.


    He handed Shizuki his cup. "Have you ever left Eldrin?"


    Shizuki shook his head, then nodded it. He drank all the tea in one go, to Ilaran''s alarm. That had been freshly-boiled! "No one sees me. Only Father knows."


    That didn''t make much sense. But asking for clarification would get them nowhere. Ilaran couldn''t imagine anything worse than being trapped in one place -- especially if that place was Haliran''s manor -- for centuries. "Do you want to leave?"


    Shizuki nodded. "Want to meet sire." Ilaran''s confusion must have shown on his face, because he tried to elaborate. "Siarvin is Father. Sire is... other father. Never seen him."


    At last Ilaran understood. "You want to meet your birth father? Do you know who he is?"


    Once again Shizuki nodded and shook his head in succession. "Servant''s son. Sent away."


    That confirmed at least one of the rumours. It also raised frightening possibilities about what other ones were true. Ilaran considered asking. This conversation was basically a long series of questions anyway; what was one more?


    No, he decided. Some things I''d rather not know just yet.


    Thinking back to their first meeting, something struck him about Shizuki''s speech. "Have you learnt to change your appearance yet?"


    "Sometimes," Shizuki said. "It makes me tired. Don''t do it much."


    Ah. So that was why his speech now was much more fragmented than a week ago. It also explained why he couldn''t leave for long.


    Shizuki poured himself a second cup of tea. He drank it as quickly as the first one. "Do you know why I''m here?"


    Ilaran shrugged. "I suppose Uncle told you to visit me."


    Shizuki gave him the sort of smug "I know something you don''t know" smile that tended to infuriate even the most even-tempered people. "No. Came to help. No one sees me so I see everywhere."


    Once again Ilaran''s confusion must have been visible. His mother would be horrified. She''d always told him never to let anyone see any sign of weakness. Not even family. (Especially not family.) Shizuki sighed and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again they were a perfectly normal dark brown. When he spoke his fangs were conspicuous by their absence, and his tongue was no longer forked.


    "I''ll have to sleep for hours after this," he grumbled in an undertone, apparently to himself. "In my snake form I can go anywhere and no one pays any attention. Even if they see me they think I''m just an ordinary snake."


    Really, Ilaran thought. He never had a high opinion of most other people''s intelligence. It had just dropped dramatically. How can anyone think a twelve-foot-long, bright-green snake is ordinary? In a country where snakes of any kind are scarce and rarely venture into cities?


    "You write a message to Abihira and I''ll deliver it," Shizuki continued. "Mother doesn''t like you. She suspects you and Father are planning something. It''s best if you are never seen talking to Abihira."


    Ilaran ran that plan over in his head. He came up with only one possible flaw. "How can you deliver a message? You don''t have pockets as a snake."


    "No," Shizuki agreed, "but I can put things in my pockets before transforming, and they''re still there when I change back. I don''t quite know how it works."


    Well. That was odd. Ilaran tried to figure it out for a moment before giving up. "All right. Do you know what Haliran''s planning?"


    Shizuki tilted his head to the side. It was a surprisingly bird-like gesture for him. "She''s angry because Father borrowed letters her friends sent her, made copies of them, and sent them to the police. She needs to make connections with more powerful people who''ll be willing to look the other way. I don''t think she believes Abihira''s anything special at all. That''s just the excuse she''s giving in case anyone questions her. She just thinks she''ll be easy to manipulate because she''s a stranger."

 Chapter VIII: An Awkward Conversation

    So rides my soul upon the sea


    That drinks the howling ships,


    Though in black jest it bows and nods


    Under the moons with silver rods,


    I know it is roaring at the gods,


    Waiting the last eclipse.


    -- G. K. Chesterton, The Ballad of the White Horse


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ drummed his fingers against the edge of the balcony. Never before had he found it so difficult to focus on a opera, especially one that was new to him. Normally he would have been mentally critiquing every aspect of the music, singing, and plot -- making allowances of course for how even t¨ªarna operas[1] generally had very flimsy plots. Today he hardly even noticed that the lead actor struggled with the high notes, or that one of the valrin[2] players in the orchestra lagged a beat behind everyone else. Such things would usually have grated on his nerves. But today...


    Today music was the last thing on his mind. The reason for that was sitting right beside him but far enough away for propriety''s sake.


    Certain members of his family had the idea that Ir¨ªm¨¦ was an idiot. He had much the same opinion about them and so he never tried to correct them. He could tell when something wasn''t quite right. And he knew something was a great deal more than not quite right here.


    Nothing interesting had happened on that little planet -- whatever its name was -- since it was used as a military base during the War of Jijuhr[3]. Very few people even remembered it existed. If asked where the zombie apocalypse was likely to start, no one would include it anywhere on the list.


    Suddenly it was in all the headlines. Abihira had been there at the time of the Incident. She had looked very shaken when the subject was discussed. Those three facts had to be connected.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ glanced suspiciously over at his fianc¨¦e. To all outward appearances she was absorbed by the opera. The light from the stage glinted off the sapphires in her black hair and caught in the silver embroidery on her cobalt mirvomon[4]. (If for a minute he imagined her in wedding blue[5], that was no one''s business but his own. And if the thought filled him with a confusion mass of conflicting emotions, he had no one to blame but himself.)


    Objectively he knew he was considered attractive. Goodness knew everyone from relatives to complete strangers had commented on it enough over the years. Beauty and physical appearance had never mattered as much to him as it did to other men. But he''d never been able to decide if Abihira was pretty or not. As he looked at her now he thought he''d finally settled it to his satisfaction. She wasn''t pretty as such, but in certain lights she looked like she was.


    And that is entirely beside the point! he reproved himself, annoyed at how his thoughts had wandered off. The question is: what did she do on that planet?


    He had no doubt she was involved somehow. The painful memory of some of her more outrageous past pranks still haunted him.


    In the background an aria reached a crescendo. Abihira''s parents were in the next box and unlikely to overhear anything he said. In keeping with custom her ladies-in-waiting sat in the seats closest to the door, where they could be chaperones while still giving the betrothed couple privacy to talk. It was likely the only chance they would get to have a serious conversation for quite some time.


    Under normal circumstances Ir¨ªm¨¦ viewed music with the same seriousness most people reserved for matters of life and death. Heaven help anyone stupid enough to talk to him in the middle of an opera. These were not normal circumstances. Even before the incident of the walking dead he had important things to tell Abihira. Well, one important thing. Now he had two, and it was time to get the inevitable awkwardness over and done with.


    On the stage the chorus sang a -- very loud -- warning to the heroes. The ghost was about to appear. Abihira leant forward so she could get a better view. Ir¨ªm¨¦ took a deep breath. It was now or never.


    "Abihira, there''s something we have to talk about."


    It took her a minute to tear her attention away from the stage and realise what he''d said. "Hmm? What? Oh!" She stared at him, surprised. "You too?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ clung to his courage before it could desert him. "It''s something very important--"


    "Wait," Abihira interrupted. She sat back in her chair and fixed her gaze on a point somewhere over his shoulder. She grabbed fistfuls of her mirvomon; a sure sign for those who knew her that she was nervous. "I have something very important to tell you too."


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    She''s going to admit to whatever she did, was Ir¨ªm¨¦''s only thought. The astonishment drove everything else out of his mind. All that worry about how to confront her, and she owned up at once!


    "It may have an effect on our marriage," she continued.


    Good grief, Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought, thoroughly alarmed. Perhaps this was something more serious than a prank gone wrong. Just what has she done?


    "You see, I." Abihira stopped and took a deep breath. Ir¨ªm¨¦ waited on tenterhooks for whatever she would say next. "I can''t love you."


    A sneaking suspicion crept into Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mind that this had nothing to do with the walking dead. He could hardly stop her now and explain there''d been a misunderstanding. Besides, this sounded just as important as what he had in mind. Even he was surprised at how steady his voice was when he spoke. "Is there someone you prefer?"


    Abihira stared at him as if he''d announced his intention to move to Kudgadchisen[6]. "Of course not! That''s the whole point. I don''t like anyone. I mean, obviously there are people I like. But I don''t like anyone in that way."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ had always known he wasn''t quite like most other men. Now it was confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt. Very few men would have reacted to a proclamation like that with a silent sigh of relief and a thought of, Thank the gods.


    "So you see," Abihira continued, "I can''t be a... a normal wife. I like you as a friend, but I don''t think I can ever see you as anything else."


    "That''s one of the things I was going to tell you," Ir¨ªm¨¦ began without even thinking beforehand of what he meant to say. "I''m the same. Maybe not quite the same, because I think I could learn to love you in time[7]. But I don''t want... I don''t..." He stopped, trying to find the words to describe something that was an inherent part of him but that he''d never tried to explain aloud. "I''m happy if we''re just friends and not anything else."


    In the poor lighting it was difficult to tell what Abihira''s expression was. He got the distinct impression it was profound relief.


    "Since we''re making rather embarrassing confessions anyway, I might as well tell you I kissed Mirio once. It was to win a bet, it was frankly almost disgusting, and I never want to do kiss anyone again."


    It took Ir¨ªm¨¦ a minute to remember who Mirio was. "You kissed your brother?"


    Luckily the orchestra was making such a noise that it drowned out his raised voice. All the same, they both looked around guiltily to make sure no one had overheard.


    "Foster brother," she corrected. "We''re not actually related. And it was only a few years after I arrived in Seroyawa. I''d barely even spoken to Mirio then. Kiriyuki said she''d let me try orakunuru[8] if I kissed a stranger. I didn''t want to kiss an actual stranger, so I stretched the definition a bit. Mirio got the shock of his life when I walked up to him and kissed him. He nearly threw me out the window. I think most of the court ladies wanted to murder me after that. And Kiriyuki said Mirio didn''t count as a stranger, so it was all for nothing in the end."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ tried to picture the scene. His imagination wasn''t up to the task.


    "Anyway," Abihira continued, as if she''d been talking about nothing more shocking than meeting a friend for tea, "there''s... something else I have to tell you about."


    Please don''t tell me you kissed one of your real brothers, was Ir¨ªm¨¦''s first thought.


    Abihira glanced up at her ladies-in-waiting and lowered her voice even more. "Necromancy."


    <hr>


    For millennia people whispered about the seas around Seroyawa. Don''t venture too far out, they warned. Don''t stay out too long. Be very wary of anything you see. If a sea serpent approaches, it''s already too late. They will sink your boats and drag you down to the depths.


    Honestly, Kiriyuki found the rumours hilarious. What self-respecting sea serpent went around sinking boats? It wasn''t good for trade. Why would anyone want to drag people to the bottom of the sea? What good were drowned immortals to beings that were immortal themselves? (And were not cannibals, despite what certain ignorant or spiteful people claimed.)


    It was a pity none of those gossips were here now. They might change their minds if they saw the Prince Royal, a sea serpent immortal descended in the direct line from Ryuuhibiki herself, standing at the water''s edge with the disgruntled expression of a cat that had just got its feet wet.


    All right, Mirio had an excuse. After all he was only half-Seroyawan. His sea serpent form wasn''t as large as the rest of his family''s, turning into it didn''t come as naturally to him as to them, and he couldn''t stay underwater for as long or dive as deep. But that was still no reason to be so reluctant to approach shallow water!


    Like all good older siblings, Kiriyuki considered it her sworn duty to do something about this. In her sea serpent form she flicked her tail and sent a great wave crashing down on his head.


    Don''t be such a baby, she said telepathically as Mirio cursed in three different languages and tried to wring the water out of his hair and clothes. Anyone would think you were scared of water.


    Mirio''s response was decidedly rude and would have scandalised their father if he heard it. Kiriyuki laughed, a sound like the wind wailing through a narrow bay, and flicked another wave at him. He jumped out of the way in time, and it splashed harmlessly on the beach.


    "Get out of here," he snapped. "I just want you to know this is a terrible plan and I will not make any excuses for you. You can face Father''s wrath on your own."


    Helpful as always, little brother, Kiriyuki snorted. Any messages you want me to pass on to Abi?


    "Yes. Tell her she''s a blithering idiot and she''s going to get herself killed. Now go before someone sees you."


    Kiriyuki turned and swam out to the deeper water. As soon as it was deep enough she dived beneath the surface. Each swish of her tail carried her further and further away from the shore, and closer and closer to Saoridhl¨¦m.

 Chapter IX: Event Horizon

    For this is a heavy matter,


    And the truth is cold to tell;


    Do we not know, have we not heard,


    The soul is like a lost bird,


    The body a broken shell.


    -- G. K. Chesterton, The Ballad of the White Horse


    That went rather well, all things considered, Abihira thought with forced optimism. At least he didn''t run away screaming.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s reaction was certainly better than she expected. He had neither fled from her as if she was about to perform necromancy on him, nor thrown a fit and publicly accused her of being a serial killer. At some point during the millennia since necromancy was outlawed people had come to associate it with murder, and to claim all necromancers were serial killers. It was a frankly ridiculous idea. They were practically opposites; one caused death and one reversed it -- or sought too. Abihira had mentally prepared enough excuses and arguments to fill a lengthy book. Of course it would turn out that she didn''t need any of them. If she hadn''t thought of any excuses, Ir¨ªm¨¦ would probably have interrogated her as if she was a criminal on trial.


    As it was he just stared at her through eyes large as dinner-plates. He made a choking, gasping sort of noise that left her worrying he was about to have a heart attack. But then he took a deep breath and visibly forced himself to calm down.


    "Oh," was all he said.


    He stayed silent for the rest of the performance. He continued to look as if he''d just witnessed something horrifying, and he sat so still he almost looked like he''d been turned to stone. When the opera was over and they left their box to rejoin Abi''s parents Ir¨ªm¨¦ was still deathly pale.


    It was just as well that his mother and her parents were too busy talking their various friends and acquaintances to pay much attention to their children. Hartanna, deep in conversation with a duchess, hardly spared Abi a glance when she approached her.


    "Ir¨ªm¨¦ has a headache," she said, making the first excuse she could think of. "We''ll leave now."


    "Of course. Whatever you want," Hartanna said in the absent tone that showed she wasn''t listening to a word. She''d have said exactly the same if Abi had announced her intention to jump off the opera house roof. She went right back to her conversation without thinking any more about Abi or anything she''d said. "I couldn''t believe it when I heard. Imagine, spending so much money on such an ugly bracelet! Do you know, I''m sure it isn''t even real gold."


    Abi rolled her eyes and went back to Ir¨ªm¨¦. He was still standing just outside the door to their box, so deep in thought that he hardly noticed anything around him. Her ladies-in-waiting stayed at a polite distance, with nary a hint of curiosity on their faces. Abi knew better than to believe it. No doubt they were listening with all their might and main so they would have plenty to contribute to the servants'' gossip. For the first time a disagreeable possibility struck her. What if their conversation wasn''t as quiet as she thought it had been? The last thing she needed was for the entire household to hear she was a necromancer. What the servants knew, everyone knew sooner or later.


    It had been years since she last eavesdropped on the staff''s conversations. Now it looked like she''d have to start listening at every chance she got, until she was sure of what they knew or didn''t know.


    "Come on," she said to Ir¨ªm¨¦. "We''re going home."


    It was a testament to how shaken he was that he didn''t even protest they should wait for their parents to leave.


    Leaving the building was easier said than done. Everyone who''d been at the opera took the opportunity to catch up with their friends or make new acquaintances. The hallways, the stairs, the foyer, the pavement outside; everywhere was full of people deep in their own discussions. Abi grabbed Ir¨ªm¨¦''s hand and pulled him through the gaps in the crowds. Her ladies-in-waiting followed as best they could.


    Finally they reached the main door. And promptly ran into an unforeseen obstacle.


    Until now no one had taken them under their notice. A few people grumbled as they pushed past, but that was all. Now for the first time someone directly approached them.


    "Excuse me? Are you Abihira-mirthal[1]?"


    Damn it, Abi thought even as she turned to see who had spoken. When will we get out of here?


    The speaker was a young woman, at least ninety years younger than Abi herself, dressed in a pale lavender mirvomon. The amethysts woven through her hair looked real at a distance, but when she bowed they didn''t catch the light the way real gems would.


    "I''m Luamon Haliranssv¨®eln," she said, straightening up again. "My mother, Haliran-r¨²daun, asked me to pass on her hopes that you are happy to be home, and to extend an invitation for you to come to tea any time you want to."


    It was just the typical pleasantries extended to someone who was in the capital for the first time in years and who everyone decided they should at least try to be polite to. Abi gave no more thought to it than she''d given to all the similar greetings. She made some vague polite response and left quickly, dragging Ir¨ªm¨¦ after her.


    There were so many carriages outside the theatre that it took ten minutes just to find theirs. The coachman stared suspiciously at Abi when she told him to drive back to the palace. From the look on his face he must have thought she''d committed some crime and was fleeing to evade capture. Only the presence of her ladies-in-waiting, out of breath and disgruntled after elbowing their way through the throngs, convinced him that there was nothing sinister afoot. Everyone knew that these ladies-in-waiting were not the ones who had accompanied Abi to Seroyawa. Those ones were still there, packing up her belongings and preparing to bring them back to Eldrin. These ones were some of her mother''s more junior servants, with no personal loyalty to Abi and no reason to cover up for her if she was in trouble.


    If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ remained grimly silent for the entire trip home. At some point Abi realised his silence had changed from "shocked" to "angry". Oh well. It had to happen. She could only hope the inevitable explosion came when there was no chance of anyone overhearing.


    Arafaren stuck his head over the rails on the landing when he heard the main door open. "You''re back!" he exclaimed unnecessarily as Abi dismissed her maids. "How did it go?"


    "Badly," Ir¨ªm¨¦ muttered, stalking past Abi. He hesitated at the foot of the stairs, then abruptly turned and stormed into one of the sitting rooms. "Abihira, I want a word with you."


    Abi grimaced and followed him, painfully aware of her annoying older brother''s curious eyes watching the entire thing. She left the sitting room door open, but cast a spell to ensure no one could hear anything said inside.


    "I suppose you''re going to be angry and offended and complain I''m defying the gods or some such nonsense," she began before Ir¨ªm¨¦ could speak. Her own anger made her words sharper than she intended. "And just when I thought we might possibly get on well enough together."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ collapsed onto one of the chairs like a puppet that had its strings cut and buried his face in his hands. Through the open doorway Abi saw Arafaren approach, listening with all his might. He scowled at her when he realised he couldn''t hear a word.


    "Why?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked. "Of all the things you could do, why did it have to be necromancy? Do you have some dead friend you want to resurrect?"


    That was one of the marginally less offensive misconceptions about necromancers. They went mad with grief and broke the laws of nature, stories claimed. Perhaps it was true of some. But it was certainly not true of all.


    "No." Abi folded her arms and sat down on the chair opposite him. "I didn''t start studying necromancy because I want to bring a specific person back. I''m studying it because I''m curious. Because I want to know what happens after death. Because I want to know if raising the dead is truly possible."


    "All the stories--"


    Abi didn''t quite roll her eyes. It took a tremendous effort not to. "Since when have stories ever told the whole truth? People lie. They forget things. They exaggerate. They tell their listeners what they want to hear. If you believe all the stories are true, then do you really believe the stars are portals to other worlds?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ glared at her from between his fingers. "Don''t be ridiculous. Of course I don''t believe that. But history tells us that necromancy is dangerous."


    History is just another form of gossip, Abi thought. "It''s not dangerous. I know what I''m doing."


    "Oh, so you meant for those corpses to attack the town? People could have died!"


    Abi had a sudden flashback to the corpse losing a battle with a table. Truly, a terrifying threat. "It wasn''t nearly as serious as people say. The corpses didn''t attack anyone. And I didn''t send them to the town. I took my eyes off them for a minute and they wandered away."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ glared at her. "What happens when you take your eyes off other corpses and they do go and attack people?"


    "They won''t," Abi said with the certainty of someone who didn''t even know she was wrong. "I can control them."


    A long and uncomfortable silence fell. Outside the door Arafaren didn''t even try to pretend he wasn''t watching everything. Ir¨ªm¨¦ stood up sharply.


    "I''m going to bed," he said. "I really do have a headache now. Please don''t raise any more corpses tonight."


    He stormed out before Abi could make a suitably cutting reply.


    "What was all that about?" Arafaren asked when she removed the spell.


    She walked past him without deigning to acknowledge his presence.


    <hr>


    After that fiasco Abi went up to her own room. The minute she opened the door she knew something was wrong. Her window was wide open. Not only had it been closed before she left, she had checked it was locked. You never knew when a burglar might break in. Especially when most of the family were away for hours.


    She looked around, taking a very quick inventory of everything. From all outward appearances the room was exactly as she''d left it. Not a single piece of jewellery was out of place.


    Abi lit a candle and pulled open the wardrobe door. She''d hidden her necromancy notes behind a loose panel at the back of the wardrobe. Carefully she pulled the panel out. The notes were still there. She put it back into place and closed the wardrobe.


    How strange, she thought, looking around again. Who goes to all the trouble of breaking in and then leaves empty-handed?


    A quick inspection of the windows only added to the mystery. The lock hadn''t been broken. The windows hadn''t been forced. Someone had opened them from the inside. Unbidden a memory of one of Kiriyuki''s ghost stories surfaced in her mind. There were creatures that could trick you into thinking they''d left the house, when really they were still there. Right behind you. Drawing closer... and closer...


    Something brushed against Abi''s shoulder. She let out a high-pitched yelp most unsuitable for an aspiring necromancer. When she looked round she groaned. It was only the curtain blowing in the wind.


    "I''m an idiot," she grumbled aloud.


    She closed the window and turned around. That was when she noticed the envelope. It was a plain white envelope, with none of the distinctive designs used in nobles'' family stationery. Even the handwriting was plain and unremarkable. It sat on top of her bedside table, amidst the pile of books she hadn''t got around to reading yet.


    For attention of Princess Abihira, it read. Underlined twice on the next line was, Very important.


    Common sense said to be extremely wary of mysterious envelopes left by equally mysterious housebreakers. Abi had never been on good terms with common sense. She opened it, took out the letter, and scanned its contents.


    Beware of Haliran-r¨²daun, it said, sounding like a plot device in an especially melodramatic potboiler. She is planning to gain your confidence so she can use your name in schemes of her own.


    "What use would my name be to her?" Abi wondered to herself. "I''m not popular or influential."


    She has committed grave crimes already. Have nothing to do with her, and her approaching ruin will not damage you.


    If the writer had known anything about Abihira they would have known better than to create such a mystery. What crimes had Haliran committed? What schemes did she have? How did the writer know this, and what sort of ruin would Haliran suffer?


    Before reading the letter Abi had no intention of accepting the invitation Luamon had extended to her earlier. Now however she was determined to visit Haliran at the first chance she got.

 Chapter X: Miscalculation

    The sweet little lies you tell won''t erase the blood on your teeth. -- Unknown


    Far away from Saoridhl¨¦m, Kitrit¨²r awoke from her uneasy sleep in a cold sweat. "That idiot Abi is doing something stupid again. I just know it."


    It wasn''t quite as much of a leap of logic as it sounded. Ever since the incident of the walking dead Kitri''s nightmares had been haunted by reanimated corpses. Not the brainless, harmless ones Abi had actually reanimated, but vicious, deadly creatures that relentlessly hunted the living. Night after night she started awake with a stifled scream, feeling the phantom pain of imaginary teeth tearing through her throat, her hand flying to her neck to make sure the teeth were just imaginary after all. After so many nights of endless panic she was not feeling at all kindly-disposed towards Abi. So when she woke again, this time with the certainty that something was going horribly wrong somewhere, she knew exactly who to blame it on.


    Kitri got up, her mouth set in a grim line. It was useless trying to go back to sleep now. She wouldn''t get a minute''s peace until she was sure her imbecile of a friend wasn''t about to start a galaxy-wide zombie apocalypse.


    She went into her study and began to draw up plans for an unexpected trip to Saoridhl¨¦m. She didn''t know how long she''d be away. Probably at least until after the Day of Comets -- which would provide a convenient excuse for her hasty departure. Everyone knew she was originally from Saoridhl¨¦m and most of her immediate family still lived there. All she had to do was temporarily hand the ruling of her lands over to her steward, pack enough clothes to last her a month or longer, and buy tickets on the earliest spaceship to Saoridhl¨¦m. With any luck she''d be on her way by tomorrow morning at the latest.


    Abihira won''t know what hit her, Kitri thought with grim satisfaction as she made a list of important duties. I''ll stop her raising the dead again, even if I have to go to the empress herself!


    <hr>


    From the perspective of someone on a boat the sea between Seroyawa and Saoridhl¨¦m was almost a thousand miles of vast emptiness. There were small islands in between them, of course; parts of the Ikinasan archipelago. If you didn''t want to make the whole journey in one go (and who would, when the seas were rumoured to be full of strange creatures?) then you could veer south. That way you could make a quick stop in the kingdom of Hyon-eun before heading north-east again to Seroyawa -- as long as you kept in mind the often very strained relationship between Hyon-eun and Seroyawa. But the unfortunate fact remained. Unless you went in an airship, or took a complicated route by land through Kazincgy, Nabevsky, Lagoeuli, Liang and Western Qi, you faced miles and miles of open ocean.


    Tales abounded of the things seen in the oceans. Tales of enormous octopuses, of islands that weren''t islands, of sea serpents and kraken and other, even stranger things. Most people who made the journey saw nothing at all, and thought the people who told the stories were drunken fools. Yet still the whispers lingered.


    Unusual sightings around the coast of Liang were much rarer. The crew of the Meijung had certainly never seen anything to alarm them before. When they cast their fishing nets one day they expected to catch guoma[1] and nothing else.


    The first sign something was wrong came when the fishing boat abruptly lurched to the side, as if something had grabbed her and was pulling her behind it. Startled exclamations and angry oaths rang out. Everyone peered over the boat''s sides to see what had happened.


    The sea bubbled and roiled like boiling water around their fishing nets. Something very large coiled and thrashed just far enough below the surface that they couldn''t see what it was. A silence equal parts amazed and horrified fell on the fishermen.


    Before their eyes the lines holding the nets in place grew tighter and tighter. Just when it looked like they were about to snap, they abruptly loosened. The water calmed. The boat stopped shuddering and lurching. Everything went back to normal as if nothing had happened.


    "What was that?" everyone asked at once when they got their breath back.


    One of the fishermen shouted and pointed out to sea. "Look!"


    They looked. In spite of how warm the day was all of them felt a cold chill wash over them. Something sped away from the boat, rapidly disappearing into the distance. Something that broke the surface with long arches of a snake-like body. Something that moved far faster than any sea creature they''d ever seen before.


    Unanimously the crew decided never to fish in that part of the sea again.


    <hr>


    Kiriyuki didn''t slow down until she was miles away from any boats with fishing nets. Her scales still stung, rubbed raw where the net had dug into them.


    I must never tell Mirio about this, she thought as she swam on at a more sedate pace. She would die of embarrassment if her brother found out she was caught in a fishing net. A fishing net! One of the first things all sea serpent immortals learnt to beware of!


    Abihira had better appreciate the trouble Kiriyuki was going to on her behalf. Not even sea serpents liked travelling so far in such a short time. They stayed around their own territory and only ventured far out into the ocean when they had to. Already she''d had a narrow escape from a rokuyukin[2]. At this rate she wouldn''t reach Saoridhl¨¦m until tomorrow. Who knew what trouble her stupid little sister could get into in that time?


    Stolen story; please report.


    <hr>


    If everything went well Kiriyuki''s absence wouldn''t be noticed for another two days. By that time she should have safely reached Saoridhl¨¦m. Perhaps she would already be on her way back. She went hunting often enough that no one would suspect anything just yet. Or so Mirio hoped.


    Unfortunately everything didn''t go well. The Seroyawan royal family wasn''t required to attend court unless they were specifically summoned. It was just his luck that the emperor summoned all five of his children the afternoon following Kiriyuki''s departure.


    Mirio slowly made his way to the Great Palace, delaying the inevitable as long as possible. His stomach sank further and further with every step. When he entered the Audience Hall his worst fears were realised.


    "There you are!" his father exclaimed, scowling at him as if he was personally responsible for all the world''s ills. "Where is the First Princess?"


    Mirio bowed before answering, as protocol dictated. He kept his calm expression fixed in place while inwardly he weighed up the risks of lying. It would buy him some more time, yes. But when the truth inevitably came out the resulting explosion would be much worse.


    "By now I believe she is somewhere in the Sea of Owanano," he said, and watched all hell break loose.


    <hr>


    Abihira spent hours trying to find an excuse to visit Haliran-r¨²daun. Nothing she came up with was plausible enough. Then L¨ªusal came to visit and practically handed her an excuse on a plate.


    "Have you heard?" her older sister said to their mother in a conspiring tone. "That woman--" Her tone implied she wanted to use a very different word, "--Haliran-r¨²daun has bought the very collection of Liang pottery I wanted to buy. It''s disgraceful! A creature like her! I''m sure I don''t know where she got the money, unless one of her male acquaintances gave it to her. The things I''ve heard about her would make your blood run cold! They say her husband is a brute. If it''s true then all I can say is they''re well-matched. Apparently she beat a servant so badly the poor girl''s blind now. I can''t abide the thought of that precious pottery staying in the hands of such a bitch."


    An onlooker would have thought Abi was completely engrossed by the novel in her hands. She didn''t bat an eyelid at anything L¨ªusal said. But she listened to every word. A plan began to take shape in her mind.


    "Offer her more money than she paid for them," Hartanna suggested practically.


    L¨ªusal groaned and sank back in her armchair. "If only I could. But, well, I don''t quite know how it happened, but we''re rather short of money at the minute."


    I can''t imagine why, if you go around buying everything you see, Abi thought dryly.


    "No," Hartanna said sharply. "I can guess where this is going. I absolutely refuse to give you any more money."


    Abi put her book down. "I could try to get the pottery for you."


    Her mother and sister turned and stared at her as if they''d forgotten she was there. L¨ªusal narrowed her eyes. She gave Abi the sort of look a detective might give a known bank robber who''d been caught in a bank vault and insisted they''d just got lost.


    "I didn''t know you were interested in pottery," Hartanna began.


    At the exact same time L¨ªusal said, "What''s in it for you?"


    Abi thought quickly. She wasn''t stupid enough to claim she''d developed a newfound love for ornamental pieces of clay. She also couldn''t admit she just wanted an excuse to visit Haliran-r¨²daun. "I''m used to haggling. We do it all the time in Seroyawa. If I meet this what''s-her-name I dare say I could argue her into letting you have the pottery for less than what she paid for it."


    L¨ªusal continued to look suspicious. "How very nice of you. Again, what do you get out of this?"


    "You''ll owe me a favour," Abi said, which was true enough. "So if I ever need help I''ll call on you."


    L¨ªusal barely suppressed a shudder. "What a lovely prospect. I think I''d rather do without the pottery. You might ask me to help you usurp the throne! I wouldn''t put anything past you."


    "How rude." Abi sniffed. "I have no interest in the throne. Now where does Haranil or whatever her name is live?"


    <hr>


    Technically Shizuki was not supposed to leave his adoptive father''s house. In practice, what Haliran didn''t know absolutely would hurt her, but she didn''t know that either yet. She went on thinking that her unwanted bastard was kept out of sight and out of mind, while Siarvin and Shizuki went on letting her think that.


    By now the manor''s staff were so used to the sight of a large snake slithering around that they knew to ignore it. Perhaps they had their suspicions about it. Snakes of any sort were not common in Saoridhl¨¦m, and this snake had the distinctive pattern and diamond-shaped head of a Seroyawan okimira. But the snake never harmed anyone, and no one was fond enough of Haliran to report it to her.


    Today found Shizuki coiled up on the roof of the main manor, half-asleep in the sun. Occasionally a passing carriage made him raise his head to see who it was. All the people who passed the manor gates would have been astonished if they knew he was watching them. If he recognised them -- and he usually did; he knew almost every royal and noble currently in the city -- he could make a reasonable guess at where they were going. If he didn''t he amused himself by weaving elaborate stories about their lives.


    Very few people actually visited Kastl¨¢n Manor. Since Ilaran was out of the city Shizuki knew no guests were expected today. He knew a great many things about the day-to-day running of the manor; things even Haliran paid no attention to. If asked he could say with certainty how much every piece of furniture had cost, how much the head cook spent on each meal, and why the teaspoons had a miraculous habit of disappearing when certain relatives came to call. He knew the names of all Haliran''s closest associates. He knew the contents of the documents she kept hidden from everyone''s view. And everything he knew, Siarvin knew.


    The clatter of an approaching carriage startled Shizuki out of his half-doze. He looked up, and stared in surprise. For the first time in years something was happening that he didn''t know about.


    The carriage drove right up to the front door. On its door was the two-headed wolf that marked it as belonging to the royal family.


    Shizuki had never seen Princess Abihira before. He did however know what her parents and all her siblings looked like. It required no great detective work to look at a young woman who bore a striking resemblance to Princess Hartanna, with her hair up in a distinctively Seroyawan style, and to guess at her identity.


    What in the world is she doing here? Didn''t she read the letter?

 Chapter XI: Youll Never Believe It!

    ...Why should one idle spade, I wonder,


    Shake up the dust of thanes like thunder


    To smoke and choke the sun?


    -- G. K. Chesterton, The Ballad of the White Horse


    "Father! Father!"


    It was extremely rare for Shizuki to make so much noise. Even in his immortal form he usually moved as quietly as... well, as a snake. He could go anywhere he liked without anyone noticing him unless they already knew he was there. Now he shouted at the top of his lungs for the first time in centuries. Heads popped out of the windows as Siarvin''s servants tried to see what was happening. They were disappointed. Shizuki ran straight to the garden, where Siarvin could always be found at this time, and the overhanging tree branches blocked their view.


    Shizuki ducked under the trees and leapt over the carefully planted rows of nuyium[1] as if he was practicing for a race. He skidded to a halt in the middle of the dwarf inikul[2] patch, right in front of an amazed Siarvin.


    "What under heaven has gotten into you?" his father exclaimed, dropping his shovel in his surprise.


    It took several minutes for Shizuki to get his breath back. In the distance he heard the murmur of voices from the main house, followed by the distinctive and unmistakable sound of the front door closing. Siarvin, whose hearing was not as sharp, didn''t notice anything.


    With an effort Shizuki straightened up and forced his fangs to disappear. Forget the toll it would take on him. Now was one of the times when he urgently needed to speak clearly.


    "I delivered the letter to Princess Abihira," he said in between gasps. "I left it in her room. She couldn''t have helped seeing it."


    "You told me that before." Siarvin took his arm and guided him over to sit in one of the garden chairs. "Are you quite all right? I warned you the sun might be too strong for you up on that roof. Why do you stay up there for hours when we have perfectly good chairs?"


    Shizuki shook his head. "It''s nothing to do with the sun. I just saw Princess Abihira arrive. She''s in the main manor right now."


    All the colour drained from Siarvin''s already pale face. He stood as still as a statue for several minutes.


    "What?" he cried when he got his voice back. "But... But we warned her! I was as clear as  I could be without telling her too much! Can she not read?"


    "She''s been in Seroyawa. Perhaps we should have written it in Seroyawan," Shizuki said with unwonted sarcasm. His own inability to speak Seroyawan was a nagging pain at the back of his mind, a feeling of guilt that he knew was irrational but he couldn''t argue away.


    He knew there were thousands of people in Saoridhl¨¦m who were either maligned as "yaear"[3] or politely described as "l¨ªuga"[4]. Most of them didn''t speak the languages of their foreign parents or grandparents. Most had no more understanding of their ancestors'' culture than the fully-Saoridhian people around them.


    Shizuki knew from painful experience that there was nothing as embarrassing as someone twenty generations removed from their last ancestor to actually live in Seroyawa who still thought they understood everything about the place. He was mortified on her behalf when that person tried to tell actual Seroyawans that she knew their culture better than them, and wanted to convince them that something they had no problem with was actually very offensive to them.


    That woman''s abject humiliation years ago was a perfect example of how he did not want to act. He knew he didn''t understand the first thing about life in Seroyawa. He knew that if he ever visited he would be as much of an oddity there as he was here. It was one of life''s cruel ironies that Princess Abihira, whose only Seroyawan ancestor was Emperor Miaris[5], knew more about Shizuki''s ancestral home than he did. Yet still he longed wistfully to speak Seroyawan. Tangled up with that longing was a lurking fear. If he ever met his birth father, would they even be able to communicate?


    "--zuki? Shizuki? Are you listening?"


    Shizuki snapped out of his thoughts. Briefly disorientated, he blinked up at Siarvin and tried to look as if he''d been paying attention. It didn''t work. His father sighed and shook his head.


    "As I was saying," he began with the patience of a put-upon tutor, "do you know why the princess is here?"


    "Of course not. I came to tell you as soon as I saw her."


    "Then go and see what you can overhear. For all we know she might be stupid enough to confront Haliran about her plans. She might even mention the letter."


    <hr>


    First impressions could always be deceiving. Abihira''s first impression of Kiriyuki was that she was an infernal nuisance, and her first impression of Mirio was that he had the personality of a brick wall. She was wrong on the second count. The jury was still out on whether she was wrong on the first one.


    Her first impression of Haliran-r¨²daun was of a woman absolutely set on having her own way. Heaven help anyone foolish enough to try to deny her. For whatever reason of her own she was hell-bent on keeping the pottery for herself. Why a collection of old vases should matter so much to someone was an impenetrable mystery to Abi. She had never been able to understand why people would spend their last penny for some rare item to add to their collection, or why finding something unique mattered more to them than their family. She''d seen it in L¨ªusal enough times to have a very low opinion of her sister''s sanity. Now she was seeing it in Haliran.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Collectors are lunatics, Abi decided.


    "I understand that your sister wants these pieces," Haliran said in a sugary sweet tone. "But she must understand that many people want them. I was lucky enough to get there first; otherwise someone else would own them now."


    Something about that tone set Abi''s teeth on edge. It was far too gushy and kindly to be sincere. She was sharply reminded of the more patronising members of the Seroyawan court, the ones who thought she was just an ignorant foreigner and could never adapt to life in their country. The ones who also looked down on Mirio as nothing more than a half-breed, an embarrassment to the royal family. They hid their disdain behind a veneer of effusive politeness. Yet both Abi and Mirio had sensed the poison concealed beneath the sugar.


    That association hardly endeared Haliran to her.


    "How about a compromise?" Haliran said suddenly. Her tone remained obnoxiously sweet. "We can both have them. I''ll loan them to her for, say, a year, and then she can give them back to me for a year, and so on."


    Abi shrugged noncommittally. "I''ll have to ask L¨ªusal about it."


    "It would be a very good way of solving this dilemma without any unpleasantness." If Haliran''s normal voice sounded like that, it was a miracle everyone around her hadn''t got diabetes. "Don''t you agree?"


    "Hmm," Abi said. She left it up to Haliran to decide if that was agreement or not.


    <hr>


    All things considered Abi had rarely been so happy to leave a place. The only thing to dampen her spirits was the thought of coming back to give L¨ªusal''s answer.


    Haliran''s servants showed her out of the sitting room. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of something green darting behind a curtain. When she paused and looked more closely there was nothing there.


    <hr>


    "It was something about pottery," Shizuki reported when he went back. His eyes were growing heavy and it was an effort to speak clearly. His fangs kept trying to push their way forward. His tongue flopped around in his mouth, trying to twist itself to form sounds an immortal wasn''t capable of. He''d been in this form for far too long.


    Siarvin blinked. "Pottery? Are you sure?"


    Shizuki nodded. He gave up fighting and let his immortal form fade away. It was such a relief to not have to concentrate on never letting his appearance slip. "Heard them talk. Sister wants pottery, she came for it."


    Siarvin groaned. "Of all the absurd things. And there I was imagining something terrible was happening!"


    <hr>


    When Abi arrived home she expected to find L¨ªusal waiting for her. Surely she would want to know how things had gone. Probably she would go on a long and rambling rant against the audacity of anyone who dared propose a compromise with her -- especially on a subject of such importance as her collection.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ might be there too. He would likely want to talk to her in private. It wasn''t a conversation she was looking forward to. If she wanted any peace in her marriage she would have to convince him necromancy wasn''t as dangerous as everyone thought.


    Neither her wildest dreams nor her worst nightmares could have prepared her for what she actually found when she walked in.


    L¨ªusal was there, ready to pounce as soon as the door opened. Her expression could have been duplicated only by a politician awaiting the results of an important election. Ir¨ªm¨¦ was there. He was poring over yet another draft of the guest list. Abi suddenly felt sorry for him.


    Then she saw the third person in the room. The sight drove all other thoughts out of her mind.


    "What-- Why-- What are you doing here?"


    Kitri glared at her. "I''m here to make sure you don''t do anything stupid."


    "I''m not doing anything stupid!" Abi protested automatically, her mind still reeling.


    "What about my pottery?" L¨ªusal demanded, unable to wait any more.


    Kitri''s unexpected appearance threw Abi into such confusion that at first she couldn''t remember what L¨ªusal was talking about. "Your what? Oh! Er, I haven''t got it."


    She quickly explained the results of her conversation with Haliran. As expected L¨ªusal threw a fit, shouted insults, and stormed off. Abi collapsed into a chair and paid no attention to her. At least Kitri was polite enough not to start yelling until L¨ªusal was gone.


    Silence fell -- the painfully awkward sort of silence that indicated an argument was imminent but the people involved were trying to pretend everything was just fine. Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked from Abi to Kitri and back again. Thankfully he had the common sense to cast a sound-blocking spell before he spoke.


    "Is this about the necromancy?" he asked.


    The silence turned from an awkward one to a baffled one. Both women gaped at him as if he was a walking corpse himself.


    "You know about that?" Kitri didn''t even wait for an answer. "Good! Then you can help me convince this imbecile never to do it again!"


    Abi opened her mouth to protest. She didn''t get a chance. The room''s temperature suddenly plummeted.


    "Again?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ repeated. His tone was so cold it gave her chills.


    Kitri nodded. She ignored Abi''s frantic hand gestures telling her to shut up. "She raised an entire graveyard last week. The whole town''s still talking about it! They think it''s the end of the world."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ turned and glared at Abi. Compared to the atmosphere now, his tone a minute ago was practically as warm as Haliran''s. "You didn''t tell me about that."


    Abi weighed up her options. Going on the defensive now would just convince them she knew she was wrong. No. There was nothing else for it. She''d just have to brazen it out.


    "That was just a slight accident," she said. "It wasn''t as serious as you make it sound. No one was hurt."


    Kitri snorted. "No, they were all just frightened out of their wits."


    "Why are you so determined to be a necromancer anyway?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ demanded. He stared at Abi as if she was the most bizarre thing he''d ever seen. "Just give it up. No one wants any necromancers around. It was outlawed for a reason."


    "And what was that reason?" Abi retorted smartly.


    Both her opponents fell silent. Their abashed looks showed plainly that they had no idea.


    Kitri tried to regain her lost ground. "People don''t outlaw things for no reason."


    Finally they were back on territory that Abi had actually prepared for. She had a dozen different answers ready for this sort of question. Now she finally got the chance to use them. "Of course not, but many things have been outlawed and then legalised again. Did you know that gas lamps were once illegal? People were afraid they''d cause fires."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ did not look convinced. "Are you sure? I''ve never heard anything about it."


    Abi ignored him. "Anyway, I can prove necromancy is safe. I''ll show you right now."

 Chapter XII: The Undead Mouse

    Don''t know how long I''ll sit behind this door


    Before you build a little moat one day


    Around a castle that can''t be ignored


    Where no one ever comes to stay


    -- Stuart Townend, My Fault


    "This is a terrible idea."


    "You''ve said that before."


    Kitri scowled and folded her arms. The effect was ruined by the wind that kept blowing her hair over her face. No one could look menacing when they got a mouthful of their own hair every time they tried to speak. "It bears repeating. I just want to make sure you know what an absolutely dreadful idea this is!"


    An especially strong gust of wind came along just as she finished speaking. It pulled her hair completely out of the loose plait hanging down her back. For a minute her face disappeared entirely behind her hair. It took a great deal of self-control for Abi not to openly giggle at the sight.


    Instead she rolled her eyes. Kitri was too busy fighting with her hair to notice. "Don''t be stupid. What harm can mice do, alive or dead?"


    She meant it as a rhetorical question. Naturally Ir¨ªm¨¦ took the chance to answer it. Unlike Kitri he had his hair pulled back much more securely. Not content with merely braiding it, he also had the braid tied up in a ponytail. Unfortunately that meant the wind wasn''t distracting him as much, and he had more liberty to make smart comments.


    "They eat everything in their path," he said flatly. She was sure that was an exaggeration. "If you get us killed by undead mice, I''ll come back as a ghost and haunt you."


    Abi was strongly tempted to retort with, Aren''t you threatening to become a necromancer yourself? She stopped herself mainly because she still didn''t know where the line was between necromancy and ghosts. There was a difference. Every scholar agreed on that, though they varied wildly on everything else. But no two books ever agreed on what the difference was. Not even ones by the same author, illogical though it sounded.


    Perhaps the difference is ghosts choose to linger on, while necromancers call back spirits already gone, she mused as she picked up a relatively fresh dead mouse by its tail. But some ghosts only appear decades after they died. Does that mean ghosts necromance themselves?


    She put that thought aside for future investigation. At the minute she had more important things to think about. Namely, proving she could in fact perform necromancy safely. It would have been more convincing if she was able to raise a dead person. Alas, she could just imagine the uproar that would follow if she suggested it. A mouse would have to do for now. That had the added benefit of her already knowing what she was doing. She''d raised many mice before.


    True, she wasn''t sure she''d raised them successfully. The problem with animals was that you couldn''t tell if they were exactly the same as they had been in life. But no undead mouse had ever tried to eat her yet.


    Abi stared very hard at the dead mouse. In the background she was dimly aware Kitri and Ir¨ªm¨¦ were staring very hard at her. Carefully she gathered her magic and reached out with it towards the corpse.


    Stand up, she ordered.


    The mouse twitched. Slowly it staggered to its feet. It stood up and then stopped moving.


    Abi sat back, feeling very pleased with herself. "There! You see? It''s not attacking us."


    "Yet," Kitri corrected her with the air of a born pessimist. "It''s not attacking us yet."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ took a few steps forward. He knelt down in front of the mouse, which was still on its feet but no more alive than it had been before. Abi watched warily.


    What is he doing? she wondered. Does he think this is all a prank?


    Even at the height of her career as a prankster, using a mechanical mouse to make everyone think she was a necromancer was not her style at all. Ir¨ªm¨¦ should know. He''d helped her plan a few tricks in years gone by.


    He held out his hand, pausing every few seconds as if he expected to be bitten. The mouse remained frozen in place. Abi and Kitri watched in confusion.


    Then the mouse turned its head.


    An icy chill fell on Abi. It felt as if someone had sneaked up behind her and poured cold water over her. The mouse couldn''t move on its own. It was just a lifeless puppet. She knew that as well as she knew her own name. And she hadn''t given it any orders.


    The mouse''s nose twitched. It gave a very good impression of studying Ir¨ªm¨¦ through its empty eye-sockets. He remained as still as the mouse itself should be. Just for a moment, like the stillness before an explosion, nothing happened.


    Then it sprang into his outstretched hand.


    <hr>


    No matter how you looked at it there was no avoiding the fact a partly-skeletal mouse was a disgusting sight. A partly-skeletal mouse that was also moving around would turn anyone''s stomach. Yet the mouse sat calmly in his hand. Its head was tilted up to look at his, even though it had no eyes. It made a slight wuffling noise as if it still needed to breath, its nose twitching like a living mouse''s would. Its long, cold claws sent an instinctive shudder down Ir¨ªm¨¦''s spine.


    All his life Ir¨ªm¨¦ had heard stories of how necromancy was evil. Creatures brought back from the dead were monsters that would tear living beings to shreds. The little mouse stayed motionless in his hand. It showed no signs of preparing to attack. Certainly no one could call it an evil monster.


    In spite of all logic it was almost... cute.


    <hr>


    Two hundred years ago a rival kingdom had attacked Tananerl. Ilaran had frightened them away by conjuring torrential rain to turn the road they took into a morass.


    Or so the story went. What actually happened was much less supernatural. Ilaran and his generals knew the terrain of the area. The road ran through a flat plain bordered by steep cliffs. They knew that when rain fell in the mountains beyond the cliffs, a few days later it would come sweeping down on the plain. A person travelling across the plain would have no warning until the deluge began.


    For almost a week the two armies faced each other on different sides of the plains. Ilaran delayed the battle as long as possible. He sent scouts to find out if it was likely to rain on the mountains. When they said it was, he sent a warning to the enemy general.


    "Turn your troops back or I will call down a terrible storm on you," his message read.


    Of course the enemy general had laughed. Of course he had thought it was just a bluff. And so, days after the rain began on the mountains, Ilaran brought out a golnuan[1] and began to play it. The enemy were close enough to see him. Less than an hour later the rain began. Faced with an opponent who was apparently powerful enough to control the weather, the enemy thought better of attacking.


    When the story was retold most people focused on how clever the idea was. No one ever knew how frightened Ilaran had been. How his hands had trembled so much he could hardly play properly. How terribly, illogically alone he had felt, even with his army camp a mere stone''s throw behind him. That hour had passed with agonising slowness. Every minute he feared this time would be the exception and the rain wouldn''t come.


    The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    It was a feeling he never wanted to experience again. It was also the closest comparison to how he felt at the minute.


    The throne room of Erthalas Palace[2] was far larger than his own throne room back in Viniok Palace. Never before had he realised just how large it was. He felt like a tiny, insignificant speck of dust in a vast emptiness.


    "I don''t understand," the empress said, staring down at him from her throne as if she wasn''t sure she was seeing him properly. "If you have a serious matter to report, why not do it now? Why do you want to wait until the day after the festival?"


    One wrong move and his plan would fall apart. Worse, the consequences would come crashing down not only on him, but on Siarvin and Shizuki.


    "I have no solid proof yet," he said. "I will have that proof by next week, and I''d rather not cause a scene on the day of the festival."


    Not unless it was necessary. The more people who learnt the truth, the better. He would strike a blow Haliran would never be able to recover from.


    Raiv¨ªth continued to look baffled. "Perhaps this is the way you handle things in your principality. But here it is highly irregular to admit to knowing something worthy of reporting and then insist on delaying the report. Does this have anything to do with your trip to the country?"


    Ilaran saw no harm in admitting that now, at least. "Yes. I was gathering evidence."


    "But you have no solid proof." The disbelief in her voice was palpable.


    He forced himself to stay still and remain calm. "None that ties it to the person I know is responsible."


    Raiv¨ªth stared very hard at him. It looked almost as if she thought she could tell if he was lying just by glaring long enough. Ilaran didn''t move. He refused to show any emotion at all.


    "Very well," the empress grumbled at last. "I still don''t understand any of this. I hope you can produce a good explanation for it."


    <hr>


    Instead of going to visit Siarvin, Ilaran went straight back to his accommodations. As he had expected he found Shizuki waiting for him.


    "Yes," he said in answer to his cousin''s questioning look. "It''s started."


    Shizuki perked up like a child who''d been told they could have dessert before dinner. It wasn''t the sort of attitude anyone would expect from someone helping to plot their mother''s downfall.


    "Can I be there when it happens?" he asked hopefully.


    Not for the first time Ilaran wondered how in the world Haliran had treated her unwanted son. Obviously she hadn''t treated him well. Ilaran had to admit it was difficult for him to imagine treating anyone well unless there was something in it for her. But Shizuki''s gleefulness made him wonder if her treatment had gone beyond trying to ignore his existence as much as possible.


    "Have you had anything to eat yet?" he asked, deciding it was best to change the subject. For a minute he worried that perhaps Shizuki''s diet consisted of insects or frogs or something equally unappealing. "The cook told me that she''s made three banor[3] of gruniay[4]. Would you like to try them before you leave?"


    Shizuki thought for a minute before he nodded. "Can I bring some back for Father?"


    Ilaran tried to picture how a snake would bring dumplings anywhere. He knew Shizuki could somehow keep things in his pockets when he transformed, but all he could picture was a snake carrying a basket of dumplings in its mouth. "Er... perhaps it would be better if I brought them. Shall we go and see him now?"


    <hr>


    Haliran, blissfully unaware of how certain events had been set in motion, was making her own plans. Many of her friends would be in the city for the Day of Comets. She would have the chance to meet up with them and discuss her investments. Perhaps she would even have a chance to talk to the silly little princess again. She had not been left with a high opinion of Abihira''s intelligence. Someone so willing to go to so much trouble for a relative was either na?ve or a downright idiot. It would make her easy to manipulate, but she would never be reliable enough to trust with any great secrets.


    Perhaps she should encourage her oldest daughter to make friends with Abihira. Goodness knew Luamon was every bit as foolish. It was an unfortunate and very vexing fact that all of Haliran''s legitimate children took after their father and had precious little of her personality. She did not have a high opinion of her husband. She''d arranged their marriage because she needed to get married, and she chose Siarvin precisely because of his stupidity. No one else would be so easily duped.


    Now that she thought of Siarvin, she''d have to find a way to stop him meeting with that little pest Ilaran. Haliran had detested the


    prince''s late and unlamented mother. The son was just as irritating. If he didn''t leave of his own accord soon she would have to find some way to have him sent away. It would only make Siarvin restless and more likely to lash out if he heard too much about his homeland. She didn''t like him, but she''d spent too much time and effort making sure he could never leave, that someone at least was completely dependent on her. He would never betray her when she was the only person he knew in the entire city. She wouldn''t let this wretched interloper undo all her hard work.


    He''d defied her once, when against all logic he insisted on raising her bastard. She''d never been able to prove it, but she was sure he had something to do with the boy''s father so mysteriously disappearing too. If she wasn''t careful he might defy her again.


    Haliran finished signing the day''s paperwork late in the afternoon. For a while she sat at her desk lost in thought. At last she stood up and went to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. She reached past the bandages and mixtures for poultices. At the very back of the cabinet was a small glass bottle full of light orange liquid with gold swirls through it. Written on the label in a barely-legible scribble were the words, Pain relief. USE IN MODERATION.


    It had been more than twenty years since she last gave Siarvin the sedative. The threat of it alone should keep him in line. Even if it didn''t then it shouldn''t take much now to send him to sleep if she did have to use it.


    <hr>


    Like most capital cities Eldrin had been built beside the sea. It sprang up on both sides of the Bay of K¨¦rol. In spite of its name the bay was a long deep fjord, almost a very wide river, full of boats at all times of the day or night. At high tide the water was so deep in the middle of the bay that the largest ship ever built could have sunk without a trace.


    When she first entered the bay Kiriyuki swam along mere inches above the sea bed. She very quickly discovered the problem with this. Over the millennia many ships had sunk in the bay. Much debris and trash had been thrown or swept into the water. Pieces of wood, metal, and goodness knew what else sank to the bottom, getting tangled up in the seaweed and just waiting to snare any large creature that came their way.


    Kiriyuki swam higher, away from the danger. Above her the sunlight flickered intermittently. Sometimes it was blocked out entirely by a ship sailing overhead. Sometimes it caught on her scales and made them glisten in a way that formed perfect camouflage from below but was entirely too conspicuous from above.


    It was an unfortunate but undeniable fact. Sea serpents were not made for subtlety. Yes, they could move very fast. They could sneak up on a school of fish without being seen. They could stay motionless for hours on end.


    They were also very large. Ambushing fish was a very different thing from trying to swim through a busy inlet. For one thing, the fish didn''t have harpoons.


    Kiriyuki stayed as far below the surface as she could. She dived deeper when passing under ships, always taking care not to blunder into the forest of trash below. Getting out of that would be much worse than getting out of a fishing net.


    She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally got out of the bay and into the River K¨¦rol. It wasn''t as deep as the bay, but for now it was still deep enough for her. When she was safely away from the city she would change back into her immortal form and swim for the shore. So far everything was going better than she expected.


    With a flick of her tail she surged ahead, further away from the busy parts of the river.


    On one of the bridges connecting the two sides of the city a group of curious passersby stopped and gawked at something very strange in the water. No one got a clear look at it. No one agreed on what it was. But everyone knew they''d seen a large -- and definitely living -- creature just below the surface.


    <hr>


    "Now do you believe me?" Abi demanded. "I know what I''m doing. And necromancy is perfectly safe."


    Kitri still didn''t look convinced. She eyed the motionless mouse corpse on the floor as if it was about to jump up and bite her. "That''s what you said last time. Those poor people are still afraid to go to the market."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ hadn''t said a word since he put the mouse down and it went back to being an ordinary dead body. Abi glanced at him questioningly from time to time. He didn''t know she hadn''t meant it to jump into his hand like that. If she told him the truth he would go back to opposing necromancy. If she didn''t tell him he would think she deliberately made it jump at him.


    Kitri turned to him. "Don''t you agree?"


    It took him a minute to realise she was speaking to him. "Sorry, what?"


    "Don''t you agree necromancy is dangerous?" she said, slowly and distinctly. Abi recognised her tone from the times the weapons master had explained something to her while trying not to lose his temper. "It has to stop."


    "I don''t know," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said, amazing both his listeners. "The mouse was cute."


    ...Cute. Cute. Never by any stretch of the imagination would Abi have called it "cute". She and Kitri exchanged matching worried looks, for once in perfect agreement.


    Something was wrong with Ir¨ªm¨¦.


    I hope he''s not going to turn out like his mother, Abi thought. A bizarre image sprang into her mind, of Ir¨ªm¨¦ starting a collection of reanimated corpses and calling them his pets.


    Abi had seen many strange and disturbing things. That idea made her shudder more than any of them ever had.

 Chapter XIII: Poisonous

    Murder''s not a hobby for the cautious


    Thoughts of violence can make the timid nauseous


    -- A Gentleman''s Guide to Love and Murder (musical), Poison in My Pocket


    Few things could strike a chill into Siarvin''s heart like the sight of that bottle. It was through that damn bottle''s contents that Haliran had ruined his life and forged the chains still binding him today.


    In small doses given by sensible, responsible, sane and normal people, varnadhur was an excellent painkiller and a mild sedative. Everyone had it in their houses in case of painful accidents or emergencies. Every apothecary sold it[1]. Apart from a bitter aftertaste it was more palatable than most medicines. It was also incredibly easy to get addicted to. Centuries ago some wiser heads had seen the problems with this. They tried to have its use restricted. By and large they failed. Even today there was nothing inherently suspicious about someone owning bottles of the stuff.


    There was just one problem. In large doses it would leave a person in a half-sleeping, half-waking nightmare before knocking them out completely. In especially large doses it would kill.


    Years ago Siarvin had been so foolish. He had thought Haliran was just being friendly when she found him alone and offered him a drink. He had never thought he was in danger so he took no precautions. He had never been given a large dose of varnadhur before so he had no resistance to it.


    What followed was something he tried not to think about. Much of it he couldn''t remember at all. For the rest he had been trapped and unable to move, forced to be a spectator with no chance to defend himself.


    The next day he woke, confused and disorientated, in his own room with Haliran beside him. She''d thought her plan out well. She explained it to him as he lay, still too dizzy to move.


    "I need to get married quickly," she said. Even now he remembered how matter-of-fact her tone was. "Before my former lover discovers I''m with child. You''re a foreigner with no friends in this city. You hardly even know anyone. No one will believe you if you try to tell them the truth. While I--" Centuries had passed but her smile here still haunted him, "--am a noblewoman from a respected family. I can claim you drugged me, dragged me here, and raped me, and everyone will believe me. A doctor will confirm that the crime happened. So you see, you have no choice but to marry me."


    It was so easy in hindsight to see he should have killed her there. Unknown to Haliran, in those days Siarvin had always kept a dagger by his bedside just in case assassins came for him as they''d come for his sister. He could have reached it and stabbed her right in the heart before she realised a thing. He should have done it no matter what the consequences would be. But he was so dizzy, and felt so sick, and couldn''t believe yet that this was really happening.


    When reality sank in he went to the empress. He told her the truth and asked for help. But Haliran had gotten there first with her version of events. She claimed they''d slept together while drunk, that she was carrying his child, and he was now looking for a way to get out of marrying her. Within a day her lies were believed all over the city.


    Life took on a horrible haze of unreality after that. The wedding went ahead. For months Siarvin fell into a sort of apathy that not even his hatred could stir him from. What did anything matter now?


    In the end it was the birth of Haliran''s bastard that finally woke him from his months-long indifference. Back then he thought that child was the catalyst that caused Haliran to commit her crime. It made no sense, but he hated it more fiercely than his wife herself.


    The bottle of varnadhur was there for anyone to use. He didn''t have to use much. A dose that was safe for an adult was fatal for a newborn baby.


    Haliran showed no grief for her child''s death. Just tight-lipped fury. She knew perfectly well who was responsible.


    After that she began drugging him regularly. The first few times she had to get her trusted servants to hold him down and force him to drink it. Eventually he stopped trying to fight. What was the point when he knew he couldn''t win?


    For centuries she had visited him at least once every year. Siarvin drank the varnadhur willingly and embraced the merciful unconsciousness it brought. Eventually she left him alone. His insistence on adopting Shizuki was what finally kept her away. Haliran knew as well as Siarvin did that her unwanted son had both the motive and the ability to kill her. Venomous snakes were not common in Saoridhl¨¦m. Few doctors stored the antidotes to their poison.


    Now here she was again. With that damn bottle in her hand again.


    Siarvin instinctively drew back. He had no weapons. Years ago Haliran had taken the precaution of never letting him anywhere near them. She had placed a spell on the armoury to keep him out and set spies to make sure he never had a chance to buy any of his own. At some point in the past the bow and arrows he had brought with him from Tananerl had disappeared never to be seen again. Even kitchen knives were blunted before he was allowed to have them.


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    Ninety years ago he would have drunk the drug without protest, too defeated to even think of fighting. But now, after so many decades of his mind being his own again... He would kill her with his bare hands if that was what it took. But he would not drink that again.


    Haliran set the bottle down on the table. Unnecessarily she asked, "You know what this is?"


    Siarvin''s mouth had gone too dry for him to speak. He nodded once, not taking his eyes off her for a second.


    "Good." She sat down at the table and glared over at him. "You will tell your nephew or whatever he is that he is no longer welcome here. If I ever see him in my house again I''ll make sure you drink this every day."


    Everyone knew that drinking it too often would get a person addicted to it. An addict would drink larger and larger quantities with each dose. Death always followed quickly, within less than a year in most cases. All the doctors would agree on the cause of his death. Even if anyone did suspect foul play, the official verdict would be death by overdose. Self-inflicted. A tragic accident.


    Shizuki had slithered off somewhere when he heard Haliran approach. No doubt he could hear every word. But Siarvin had ordered him years ago not to attack her unless in self-defense. A bastard half-breed who murdered his own mother would never be given a fair trial. Or any trial, most likely.


    "Do you understand?" Haliran asked in that horrible smug tone she always used when she''d already won and she knew it.


    For a minute Siarvin contemplated the practicality of throwing the table at her. Regretfully he had to admit it wouldn''t work.


    Anyway, she needed to be alive when Ilaran revealed her crimes in front of the entire royal court.


    "I understand," he said through gritted teeth.


    Too late, he added silently. You''ve already lost.


    <hr>


    Shizuki reappeared as soon as Haliran left. One look at his face confirmed that he''d heard everything.


    "Go and tell Ilaran not to visit any more," Siarvin ordered before he could say anything.


    "But Father--!"


    Siarvin gave Shizuki a Look. It was the sort of Look parents everywhere had mastered, and children everywhere knew to obey or face unpleasant consequences. Shizuki closed his mouth and accepted there was nothing else for it. His disgruntled expression showed what he thought, though.


    <hr>


    Kitri could say with certainty that this was not how she expected today to go. She had mistaken Ir¨ªm¨¦ for a sensible young man who''d support her in her anti-necromancy campaign. At first he had supported her. Then, just when she most needed him to back her up, he changed sides and went over to the enemy. Over a mouse. Kitri didn''t like mice, living or dead, and couldn''t imagine how anyone''s opinion could be swayed by one. It was disgraceful!


    Worst of all, now she was left to argue with Abi alone.


    "You can''t just go around raising the dead," she insisted, trying another tactic. "Why, the person is probably happy being dead. They won''t want someone to come along and drag them back to life without so much as a by-your-leave. What if they''ve already been reincarnated?"


    Abi stopped in her tracks. She stared at Kitri as if she''d just been told water was dry. "...I never thought of that."


    Thank the gods, Kitri thought. I''m finally getting through to her.


    Her hopes were dashed by the next words out of Abi''s mouth.


    "Maybe that''s why I haven''t been able to bring a person back yet," she said. "I wonder how long it takes someone to be reincarnated?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ piped up for the first time since they left the barn. "Quite a while, I''d think. It depends on how soon their next descendant is born[2]."


    Kitri stared open-mouthed as the two of them launched into a discussion of how long it would theoretically take someone to be reincarnated. Soon they moved on to whether or not their soul would go somewhere or just float around in the atmosphere until there. It was by far the strangest conversation Kitri had ever heard. And she was the magistrate for her lands. She had heard some very strange things over the years.


    The path back to Abi''s parents'' palace ran alongside the river for several yards. Here there was a steep drop down to the water, which was still very deep, so railings had been placed along the side of the path in case anyone wasn''t watching where they were going. Kitri left the other two to their discussion and stalked ahead.


    A flicker of movement in the water caught her eye. She leaned over the railing and looked down. At first her brain refused to accept what she was seeing. It interpreted the sight as sunlight reflecting off the surface, or a group of fish swimming in a line.


    Then the thing broke the surface. Its purplish-green body formed several immediately-distinctive hoops. Kitri knew what it was even before its long head appeared. The horns, whisker-like appendages and dagger-sharp teeth only confirmed her fears.


    It was a sea serpent.


    An abrupt silence behind her showed that Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ had seen it too. Its head continued to rise until it was level with them. It didn''t spare a glance for Kitri or Ir¨ªm¨¦ at all. It just glared straight at Abi.


    For one awful moment Kitri thought it was something conjured up by Abi''s necromancy. Sea serpents were not native to Saoridhl¨¦m. None had ever been seen here before. Wild stories of them came from Seroyawa and the seas around it. Tales that their breath was poisonous, that they could kill a person merely by looking at them, that they were larger than any ship.


    The poisonous breath and deadly gaze were clearly exaggerations. Kitri wasn''t so sure about the last rumour. In this part of the river it was more than fifteen feet below the path. The sea serpent''s neck was long enough to reach that far -- assuming that was its neck; it was hard to tell where neck ended and body began. At least half of the creature was still in the water.


    A long and dreadful silence fell. It probably wasn''t as long as it felt. To Kitri it might as well have been an eternity.


    Eventually Abi spoke. Her voice was a high-pitched squeak. If her eyes were any wider they''d fall out of her head.


    "Kiriyuki?"

 Chapter XIV: To Wake the Dead

    Therefore do not bend, Ancalim?. Once bend a little and they will bend you further until you are bowed down. Sink your roots into the rock, and face the wind, though it blow away all your leaves. -- J. R. R. Tolkien, Unfinished Tales


    "Kiriyuki?"


    The sea serpent hissed. Kitri stepped back. Ir¨ªm¨¦ put himself in front of Abi, glaring up at the creature as if its existence was a personal slight. What use he thought he would be if it did decide to attack, probably not even he could have said.


    Kitri was never sure of what happened next. It was a blur with only a few seconds of nightmarish clarity. The sea serpent lunged forward. Kitri leapt away. Ir¨ªm¨¦ grabbed Abi''s arm and tried to pull her out of harm''s way. Water splashed everywhere, on the path, on the serpent, on Kitri herself. She couldn''t see Abi or Ir¨ªm¨¦. For one awful minute it looked like the sea serpent had climbed onto the path.


    Under the circumstances Kitri''s thoughts were not at all coherent and hardly helped her understanding of the situation. No no nonononono how can it do that it doesn''t even have arms--


    Then suddenly the serpent was gone. In its place was a young woman, a Seroyawan from her appearance, her hair and clothes dripping wet. Kitri was briefly distracted by the silver embroidery on her long black outer robe. For a minute it looked less like embroidery and more like... scales...


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s well-meaning assistance only got himself and Abi in the perfect spot to be drenched by an even larger wave than the one that hit Kitri. The two of them were so busy grumbling and bickering that they were paying no attention at all to their surroundings. Kitri tried to speak. It was most unfair that right now she was soaked to the skin but her mouth was bone dry.


    While she was still trying to remember how to speak, the... sea serpent? Being? Woman? Just trying to decide how to refer to her was giving Kitri a headache! Whatever she was, she burst into a long and clearly angry monologue in an unfamiliar language. Abi''s expression grew more and more outraged with each word. Minutes ticked by and the woman still didn''t run out of things to say.


    At last Abi''s patience ran out.


    "You didn''t have to save me! I was in no danger!" she snapped.


    The strange woman glared at her. In understandable but oddly-accented Saoridhin she said, "Are you sure? Then why do you smell of dark magic?"


    It took a great deal of self-control -- and a lingering healthy dose of fear -- to stop Kitri telling the woman all about Abi''s latest escapades. Ir¨ªm¨¦ opened his mouth, caught Abi''s eye, and closed it again.


    The woman continued without letting Abi get a word in edgewise. Unfortunately she went back to speaking in her own language. Kitri and Ir¨ªm¨¦ exchanged awkward looks. It was never pleasant to be caught in the middle of an argument. When the argument was in a language they spoke then there was some entertainment to be derived from it. But no one could find anything interesting in such a lengthy spiel when they didn''t understand a word.


    Abi interrupted in the same strange language. She and the woman yelled at each other for at least ten minutes. Well, Abi yelled. Her friend -- or so Kitri assumed; clearly they knew each other, and no one would travel miles to find a stranger or an enemy -- didn''t actually raise her voice. She didn''t have to. The scorn in her voice could have turned milk sour.


    This continued for so long that Kitri began to seriously wonder if Abi had forgotten her and Ir¨ªm¨¦''s existence. She took a step back. Then another. And another. She waved to get Ir¨ªm¨¦''s attention, then gestured emphatically for him to follow. He looked uncertainly at Abi. She remained blissfully unaware of his existence. With a shrug he slipped past her.


    Kitri set off down the path, feeling absurdly like a small child evading a lecture. Ir¨ªm¨¦ followed more slowly. He kept stopping to look back at the still-raging argument with the air of a mother hen worrying about an especially stupid chick. Before long he''d fallen so far behind Kitri that she couldn''t see him any more.


    Unlike him she wasn''t overly concerned for Abi''s safety. A woman who started a small-scale zombie apocalypse could face a sea serpent alone.


    But just in case, perhaps she should warn Abi''s parents about what was happening.


    <hr>


    "I don''t believe it," Abi grumbled in Seroyawan. "You came all this way, without permission, just because you and Mirio thought I''m too stupid to be left on my own?"


    Kiriyuki snorted. "You? Worried about doing anything without permission? The hypocrisy is astounding. I came here because I knew you''d make a fool of yourself if you were left unattended. And you are left unattended," she insisted, ignoring Abi''s protests. "In spite of Mirio''s clumsy attempts no one in your family truly knows what sort of things you meddle with."


    If it wasn''t beneath her dignity -- and if it wouldn''t have confirmed Kiriyuki''s certainty she was little more than a foolish child -- Abi would have pouted. "I don''t meddle. I know exactly what I''m doing. Why do I have to keep saying that?"


    Kiriyuki raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so you knew what you were doing when you called up the spirits of the damned[1]."


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    The memory of that unfortunate incident still made Abi blush to the roots of her hair. "They weren''t the spirits of the damned. They were fire pixies."


    "They howled like the damned," Kiriyuki said grimly.


    Unfortunately she was right. Late one evening Abi had just wanted to light the fire without the bother of getting out of bed or calling a servant. So she cast a spell she''d recently created and hadn''t yet tested. The first clue something had gone wrong was the chorus of agonised wails.


    Those screams filled every corner of the palace and beyond. People on the outskirts of the city grabbed their weapons and prepared to defend themselves from whatever was making that horrific noise. The emperor''s guards ran to protect him. The empress tried desperately to keep order as her ladies-in-waiting screamed and fought each other over hiding places. Mirio barricaded his younger siblings into the nursery and waited outside the door, drawn sword in hand, for the attack he thought was coming. Kiriyuki, just back from a fishing trip, heard the noise down at the seaside. She grabbed the first weapon to hand -- an old boat hook abandoned on the dock by a careless fisherman -- and hurried to the palace, fully convinced a massacre was in progress.


    By the time everyone knew they were in no immediate danger, they all jumped to the wrong conclusion. A quick glance at the small bird-shaped fireballs darting around the palace and screaming at the tops of their lungs would convince anyone that these weren''t really ghosts. Alas, no one was thinking clearly. Not even Abi. Certainly not when that infernal racket went on and on without end.


    It took twenty priests, a small battalion of nuns, and some very discreet attempts at necromancy on Abi''s behalf before they collectively realised they''d misjudged the situation. The emperor called on a group of naturalists who specialised in fire elementals. Within hours the palace was completely pixie-free. Slightly singed and definitely the worse for wear, but mercifully silent for the first time in days.


    Most of the royal court still didn''t know what had happened. When asked the soothsayers looked very wise and ascribed it to ominous signs in the sky and accumulated ill-fortune.


    Kiriyuki and Mirio had no doubt of who was responsible. Abi avoided them as if they were wailing ghosts themselves for months afterward.


    She had never tried casting spells inside the palace again. Not until she was absolutely sure of what they did and how to reverse them.


    Even now, all these years later, the thought of those few horrible days sent a chill down Abi''s spine.


    Kiriyuki continued speaking, unaware or uncaring of the painful memories her words had dredged up. "I heard about that other fiasco. Something about the walking dead crawling out of their graves. What did you do?"


    "That was an accident," Abi protested.


    She had to admit it was a threadbare excuse. Kiriyuki looked as disapproving as Kitri had.


    "Well, I''m going to make sure there are no similar accidents," she announced with the air of a tutor faced with an especially unpromising pupil. "If you can prove within two weeks that you can raise the dead safely and control what you call up, I won''t mention a word about your necromancy to your parents. If not, they''ll hear all about it."


    "You-- You-- That''s blackmail!"


    Kiriyuki nodded. "Consider it payback for the grey hairs you''ve given me over the years."


    You don''t have any grey hairs, Abi wanted to snipe. A thought occurred to her before she opened her mouth.


    "Wait a minute! You can''t just invite yourself to my parents'' home without sending any notice! You''ll have to inform the empress, and then the whole thing will get back to your parents, and they''ll be furious about it, and Grandmother will learn you aren''t supposed to be here..."


    A wild image of Seroyawa and Saoridhl¨¦m going to war over Kiriyuki''s unwanted visit popped into Abi''s mind. For a minute she didn''t know whether to laugh or cry.


    Kiriyuki, damn her, wasn''t the slightest bit perturbed. "I thought about that on the way here. I''ll say I was so worried about you--" She was interrupted by a thoroughly scornful scoff from Abi. She pretended she hadn''t heard, "--that I just couldn''t rest until I knew you were safe. And I''m going to stay to put the fear of the gods in your fianc¨¦, as any good older sister would."


    It took a great deal of restraint not to shriek with laughter. "You? A good older sister?"


    Once again Kiriyuki ignored her. "I''ll apologise and be as prim and proper as they expect me to be. If you don''t raise hell -- literally -- in two weeks I''ll go home and not make a fuss."


    Sure you will, Abi thought, already making plans to wake the dead at the first opportunity. "You''d better come home and start explaining right away. Goodness knows what story Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Kitri have told by now."


    <hr>


    Ilaran wasn''t surprised to hear he''d been barred from Haliran''s house. Truth be told he was more surprised it had taken her so long. He added another sin for which she would pay to his mental list and continued planning her downfall.


    In his rooms he''d set up a small shrine to his god. Contrary to popular belief he hadn''t learnt about Ziem-?iabu-ni?e[2] from his mother. Years ago he''d met a very strange traveller while hunting a monster that had killed half a village. She''d helped him kill the monster then accompanied him for part of the journey home. Along the way she''d told him many strange stories and swore all of them were true. But the one that struck him the most was her story of the god she worshipped. He had meant well but he made terrible mistakes, so he was thrown out of heaven. Now he wandered the world wearing a veil, too ashamed to show his face, and tried to make amends by doing good and ensuring the wicked were punished.


    Gods of any sort were never popular with Ilaran. They had failed him too many times for him to believe they had any power. But the story of that wandering god stayed with him after all these years.


    It was a change to find a god who didn''t ask for worship. It was a comfort to think there was a deity out there, even an exiled and forgotten one, who still cared for the living, mortal and immortal alike. He knew it was just a story. Yet it was a story that was more encouraging than a thousand realities.


    When he''d finished the shrine he''d set up a chessboard in front of it. An onlooker would assume a pair of amateurs had deserted it in the middle of the game. There were only six pieces left on it. Three were arrayed in a semi-circle in front of a fourth. In the process they disregarded all known rules of chess, for the beleaguered piece was a rook and the three pieces in front were all knights. Behind the rook were two pawns placed on opposite corners of the board.


    Ilaran looked at the chessboard for a long time. At last he leant over and moved the rook forward another space, so it was immediately in front of the three knights. He took another knight out of the box and set it behind the three already there.


    Any of his household back in Tananerl would have had no difficulty deciphering the message. It wasn''t a chess game at all. It was a battle plan.

 Chapter XV: Skeletons

    ...great schemes make the actors in them careless of humanity; the life of a man goes for nothing against a point in the game. -- Anthony Hope, Rupert of Hentzau


    The royal crypt was exactly the same as it had been before. Still lifeless, still silent, still lit only by the pale glare of the gas lamps. The only difference was that now there was no one else at all. Abi took the precaution of checking. It took her over an hour to search around all the graves and monuments until she was sure she hadn''t missed anywhere a person could be hidden. And that was only the third and lowest lever. Hunting around the other two would have taken the better part of a day.


    Finally she was convinced that she was alone. No one would think of looking for her here. They were all too busy panicking over Kiriyuki''s unexpected arrival and the diplomatic headaches it caused. Under other circumstances Abi might have tried to help her. Right now she was thoroughly angry with Kiriyuki, and more than happy to let her sort out the consequences of her actions on her own.


    If she had time to think things through, the royal crypt would be the last place she tried necromancy. An undead royal wandering around the city was the sort of thing that would attract notice. But she was in a hurry, and one of her distant cousins had died only a few weeks ago. He''d come off the worst in a duel and bled to death before his friends could get him to hospital.


    In most cases this would have been the prelude to a murder trial that would keep tongues wagging for decades. In this case the other party in the duel had been the dead man''s sister. The cause of the fight was a dispute over inheritance. The pair''s great-great-grandmother had died without making a will. Both of them insisted they deserved the same amount of money. There simply wasn''t enough money in the estate for both to get what they wanted. It ended in months of unpleasantness that culminated in a duel and a disaster. Their mortified family brushed the whole thing under the carpet and pretended Lord Tiraldhros had died in a tragic accident.


    None of this would have had the slightest effect on Abi if not for a simple fact. Tiraldhros was the most recent member of the Sinistrah family to die. His body would be the least decayed -- especially in the midnight-cold depths of the crypt, walled into an airless stone tomb.


    There was just one problem. She would have to open the tomb to get the reanimated body out.


    Experimentally she pushed the edge of the lid. It didn''t budge. Some far too conscientious builder had cemented it in place. She rapped her knuckles against the top, then further down against the walls. They were all solid. Nothing short of an explosion could open them quickly.


    At some point in their life everyone learnt how to magically make things explode. It sounded like a very exciting skill to have. Of course, no sooner had they acquired it than they discovered it wasn''t nearly as exciting as it seemed. Explosions were loud. And messy. And brought people running. Worst of all they had a nasty tendency to destroy indiscriminately.


    Blowing up the tomb would also blow up the body. And possibly half of the crypt. No, it simply wasn''t practical.


    Where''s the nearest pick-axe? Abi wondered.


    It would take hours of hard work. There was a good chance someone would notice something odd was happening. What in the world was she to do with all the dust? The more she thought about it the more impractical the whole thing seemed.


    Finding a corpse in a common graveyard would be easier, she decided. I''ll just have to find the freshest one I can.


    Recently-dug graves were always easy to spot. The most difficult part would be dodging gravediggers, cemetery caretakers, and relatives.


    Abi sat down on the cold stone floor beside the grave and eyed it dubiously. Everyone will know I''ve succeeded if I raise Lord what''s-his-name. If I choose a commoner instead they''ll say it''s all a hoax and the person wasn''t really dead. Damn you, Kiriyuki! Why couldn''t you mind your own business for once?


    Two storeys above her the main door creaked open. At once Abi jumped to her feet. She shook her coat and dusted off her trousers. Quickly she glanced around to make sure nothing was out of place. The whole time she listened for footsteps.


    She heard them. Someone descended the stairs to the first level. They crossed it and descended another flight of stairs to the second one. At the bottom of those stairs the footsteps stopped. Then they started again, crossing the second level towards the third flight of stairs.


    Abi looked around wildly. None of her immediate relatives were buried here. She hadn''t been close to anyone here. How could she explain her presence if she was caught?


    Idiot, she grumbled at herself. Why didn''t I think of an excuse earlier?


    The footsteps stopped again. For a moment there was dead silence, as if she''d imagined the whole thing.


    "Abihira? Are you down there?" Ir¨ªm¨¦''s voice called from the top of the third stairs.


    Most people who''ve just had a fright will feel extremely foolish when they learn there was nothing to be afraid of. Abi had called herself an idiot when she thought she had reason to worry. Now she called herself a good few stronger words.


    "What are you doing here?" she shouted up at Ir¨ªm¨¦, not bothering to answer his question. Well, she supposed that she was answering it simply by speaking.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ began to descend the third staircase. The eerie echoes of his footsteps almost drowned out his voice. "I couldn''t find you anywhere else. I thought I might as well try here before looking outside the palace. Are you going to raise the dead here?"


    Abi blinked in confusion. How did he jump to that conclusion so quickly? "What makes you think that?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ reached the bottom of the steps. He looked around in every direction but the right one before he saw her. "A necromancer in a crypt. It''s rather obvious."


    Well. When he put it that way it did seem rather obvious.


    "Are you going to try to stop me?" Abi asked, fully expecting a battle.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ shook his head. He wound his way around the tombs placed at random spaces all over the floor -- whoever had built the crypt had not given any thought to the layout, and future generations continued in the same vein -- until he reached her. From the stairs to the unfortunate lord''s tomb was only about ten ornthal[1] in a straight line. The lack of any coherent method in where the tombs were built meant it took almost five minutes for Ir¨ªm¨¦ to get there.


    "Actually I''d like to help you," he said, as calmly as if he was offering his help in choosing paint or wallpaper. He eyed Lord Tiraldhros''s tomb with interest. Oblivious to the shock his announcement had caused, he continued, "Is this who you want to raise first?"


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    If there wasn''t such a high chance of tripping over someone''s final resting place Abi would have staggered back in astonishment. Most people did not react well to the thought of necromancy. Over the years she''d seen many different reactions to the mere suggestion it might be possible. They ranged from horror to disgust to "those are just fairy-tales and you''re a fool for believing them". When people found out it was possible... Well, the uproar caused by the walking corpses showed what happened then. No normal person would ever want anything to do with necromancy. This was a simple and incontrovertible fact. Abi knew it as well as she knew that it meant she was decidedly not normal.


    "Why--" Abi''s voice came out as a high-pitched squeak. She cleared her throat and tried again. "Why do you want to help?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ shrugged, which was hardly reassuring. For one awful moment Abi thought she was stuck in a betrothal with one of those idiots who would do something dangerous on a whim and then blame everyone else for the inevitable disaster.


    "Nothing you''ve brought back has harmed anyone," he said. "The corpses frightened everyone but no one was hurt. And the mouse was cute."


    It took a great deal of self-control not to gawk at him. Cute? Cute? What''s wrong with him? "I haven''t brought anything back yet. Not properly."


    She braced herself for a long argument about what constituted bringing someone back properly. Instead Ir¨ªm¨¦ just nodded and accepted that without question.


    "So are you going to raise this..." He paused and nodded at the tomb, "...whoever this was?"


    "That''s what I haven''t decided yet." As succinctly as possible she explained her dilemma. "...So you see, I need a fresh body, and short of raiding an undertaker''s house this is the best I can find."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ frowned. "Why do you need a fresh body? The corpses you raised before weren''t fresh."


    True enough. They had also scared the living daylights out of everyone who saw them.


    "I don''t want to just create a walking corpse," she explained patiently. "I want to actually bring a person back to life."


    <hr>


    t''s just possible, Kiriyuki admitted in the privacy of her own mind, that I might have made a mistake.


    Abihira''s grim predictions about the trouble her presence would cause had come true -- with a vengeance. For the last hours she had been whisked around the city, presented to the empress, the Seroyawan embassy, and a long line of government ministers thrown into panic by her arrival. An endless stream of letters, telegrams, and official missives were hastily dispatched to Seroyawa. Kiriyuki had to repeat her story again and again, to increasingly sceptical people.


    With all the uproar there was no chance she could keep an eye on what Abi was doing. In fact no one seemed to know where that blasted nuisance was. She was certainly not with her parents, or her grandmother, or any of her other innumerable relatives.


    Kiriyuki forced herself to appear suitably contrite and ashamed when people questioned her. It was rather difficult when the whole time she expected to hear the second act of the zombie apocalypse had begun.


    She had a very bad feeling about this.


    <hr>


    It''s just possible, Mirio thought grimly, that letting Kiriyuki leave was a mistake.


    Few things threw the court into chaos quite like the disappearance of the heir. The shouting went on for hours and got progressively nastier. Sooner or later everyone would start looking for a scapegoat. Mirio knew only too well that he would be that scapegoat. So he retreated into his palace and waited until the storm blew over.


    Three days had passed and it still hadn''t blown over. Worse, news filtered through that Kiriyuki had reached Saoridhl¨¦m, been seen in her sea serpent form, and caused a riot. Mirio doubted the veracity of those reports. A letter from Kiriyuki herself was rumoured to be on the way. In the meantime Mirio stayed out of everyone''s sight and relied on his servants to bring him news. He left his palace only late at night, to swim in the coves and bays around the capital. In the inky blackness of the ocean under moonlight one sea serpent looked very much like another from the shore. He never let anyone get close enough to him to recognise him.


    Early morning of the fourth day found Mirio perched on the narrow string of rocks jutting out into Hanazaki Bay. He was in the in-between form occasionally adopted by sea serpent immortals who were tired of one form but not quite ready to switch to the other one yet; humanoid from the waist up, but with a sea serpent''s tail instead of legs.


    When Abihira had first seen Mirio and Kiriyuki in that form she had burst out laughing and said they looked like mermaids. They had retaliated by splashing water at her with both their tails and their arms. She''d looked like a drowned rat by the time she escaped, and she''d wisely never made that joke again[2]. That had happened on these very rocks, less than five hundred years ago. A mere blink in the life of an immortal. Now both Abihira and Kiriyuki were miles away, and Mirio was left waiting for news of them.


    Idly he swished his tail through the still water, amusing himself by watching the ripples distort the moon''s and stars'' reflection until they looked like vast alien galaxies.


    A flicker of light at the other side of the bay caught his eye. Sea serpents'' eyesight was much better than most other immortals'', perfect for detecting movement even in the darkest reaches of the sea. The moon''s pale glow and the stars'' light that gave no light both concealed more than they revealed. Yet Mirio saw what was happening as clearly as if it was broad daylight.


    A ship put to sea from Hoshizora Harbour. On its own there was nothing unusual about that. Fishermen set out at all sorts of odd hours depending on what sort of fish they were looking for. Not everyone in Seroyawa was a sea serpent immortal. Probably not even half of them were. The royal family were, and so were many of the people who lived near the shore, but inland there were myriad other sorts of immortals. When they went fishing they had to do it the conventional way, in a boat with bait and nets.


    What was unusual was this boat''s complete lack of nets. Fishing boats had a very distinctive shape, noticeable even in the dark. This was a cargo ship. Possibly a passenger ship too. And those never left in the middle of the night unless there was an excellent reason for it.


    Mirio''s first thought was that his father and stepmother were personally going to retrieve Kiriyuki. As the ship drew nearer he dismissed the thought. This wasn''t one of the imperial vessels. No one in their right mind would try to convince the emperor and empress to set foot on such a common ship.


    There was only one likely explanation then. Smugglers.


    A faint splash, a shimmer of scales underwater, and a few ripples dying away were the only signs anyone had ever been on the rocks. Mirio, back in his fully sea serpent form, made his way over to the boat. He surfaced in the shadow it cast on the water, close enough to hear without being seen.


    Someone was speaking just above his head. A middle-aged woman, if he had to guess. Her thick accent immediately marked her as being from the Koshiji region. "We must be careful. The gods know we''ve done the most stupid thing possible by setting out in the dark. As long as we stay away in the middle of the bay we should be safe. It''s getting through the rocks outside that will be hardest. Why couldn''t you wait until daylight?"


    A different voice answered. It was a young man''s voice, with a faintly northern accent tinged with a decidedly foreign sound.


    Like Abihira speaking Seroyawan, Mirio thought.


    "I must reach Saoridhl¨¦m as soon as possible," the man said, confirming Mirio''s suspicions about his accent.


    The woman grunted in what might be agreement or disapproval. "Going to see family?"


    A slight but unmistakable pause. "Yes," the man agreed slowly. "I suppose I am."


    Silence fell for a while. Footsteps crossed the desk. A door closed somewhere on the ship. Mirio continued to swim alongside, listening for the slightest word.


    At last the woman spoke again. From her words he deduced that the possibly-Saoridhian man had left. "Damned strange if you ask me. Why''s a scholar in such a rush he can''t even wait till morning? Family, indeed. Shouldn''t wonder if he''s running from a debt collector."


    No one answered. Apparently she was talking to herself. She continued to grumble for several minutes. Most of her complaints were about the difficulties of the voyage and how little time she had to prepare for it. The rest was about the antics of the royal family and how they''d be better served watching the Crown Princess than interfering with honest tradesmen -- a sure sign she was at the very least sympathetic to smugglers.


    What she would have said if she knew the Prince Royal was listening could only be imagined.


    In spite of her doubts the boat got out of the bay without difficulty. Mirio stayed in its shadow until they were a mile out to sea. The only things he heard were the normal remarks of sailors. Not a word about the mysterious passenger or why they left in such a hurry.


    Finally Mirio dived underwater and turned back towards land. Before he left he checked the ship''s name. Its characters could be read as Rotsuki or Niroto. Possibly even Ritehi. Whatever calligrapher had drawn them had done a truly appalling job. Not even a sea serpent''s eyes could tell with certainty what they were meant to be. He gave up in disgust and swam away.

 Chapter XVI: Dress Rehearsal

    In the midst of life, we are in death. -- Agatha Christie, And Then There Were None


    There was only so much theoretical planning a person could do. Everything else had to be left up to chance, with the certainty that it wouldn''t turn out at all in the way the planner expected.


    Ilaran thought and thought about the steadily-nearing trial. He always called it that in his mind, grimly determined to never lose sight of his goal in all this. It was the first thing he thought of in the morning and the last thing he thought of at night. When he lay awake for hours he contemplated possible ways it could go wrong, and how he would salvage the situation if it did. It was the only thing on his mind during the day. At breakfast, dinnertime, and supper the idea of something going catastrophically awry preyed on him and turned his food to ash in his mouth. His endless plans and fears haunted him through every hour and every minute.


    If he had still been in Tananerl someone would have noticed the toll it took on him. Kivoduin had been his most trusted friend for over eight hundred years. She would have seen the ever-darkening purple shadows under his eyes and his increasingly haggard expression. She would immediately have hunted up some relatively unimportant matter for him to deal with. Or insisted he leave the palace for a few hours. Anything that would distract him and stop him thinking about the same thing over and over and over. Even if Kivoduin wasn''t there, the rest of his household knew the warning signs. They knew it was a very bad thing to leave Ilaran alone with his thoughts at times like this.


    Here in Eldrin no one knew that. No one even knew him well enough to notice any real change in him. The servants he brought with him gave him worried looks and occasionally ventured to comment on how the city clearly didn''t agree with him. When they were so far from home they didn''t try to push the subject, especially not when he brushed off all their worries. The servants who already worked for the royal family never said anything at all. Even if they noticed the deterioration in his health and temper they decided it was none of their business.


    After five days of never-ending headaches -- the sort of headaches that no painkillers could lessen -- and a queasy, twisting feeling in his stomach when he tried to eat, Ilaran himself had to admit something had to be done about this. If he was still in Tananerl he would have gone riding somewhere out in the grasslands around the capital city. For miles there was nothing in sight but hills, rivers, and birds wheeling overhead. Ever since he was a child he had found its emptiness was the perfect thing to clear his mind. But there was no similar place in Eldrin.


    Now that Siarvin''s manor was barred to him, he had nowhere else to go. All his mother''s acquaintances in the city were either dead or had no reason to care anything about him. He hardly even remembered any of their names. So, with no other options, Ilaran took to long walks all over the city. He changed his distinctively Tananerlish clothes from unremarkable Saoridhian ones, and studiously avoided any colours that might attract disapproving attention. When he went out he blended in with all the crowds of people out and about. No one spared him a second glance. It was too noisy for his liking, but at least it distracted him from his thoughts.


    It was on one of his wanderings around the city that he stumbled upon something very odd indeed.


    The Day of Comets was one of the largest festivals in the Saoridhian calendar. As implied by the name it always coincided with a meteor shower clearly visible throughout most of the empire. According to myth the meteors were the messengers of the gods bringing good fortune to anyone who saw them. For weeks leading up to the festival people everywhere would crowd to get the best possible view of them. It wasn''t unheard of for fights to break out over who stood where. All the main streets were so crowded that no one could get through unless willing to wait for hours. Naturally everyone who could began to use smaller side-streets instead. Ilaran, who preferred to avoid all crowds, stayed as far away from the busy city centre as he could. He wandered around the parks and visited the libraries that were generally almost empty at this time.


    One of those parks was right next to a graveyard. Indeed, it was difficult to tell where graveyard ended and park began. Very few people ever visited graveyards around the Day of Comets. It would only be inviting ill fortune, they thought. Yet just as Ilaran sat down on one of the park benches and took a book out of his bag, he saw two people climb over the graveyard fence.


    That was strange enough on its own. Graveyards'' gates were never locked. Why would anyone go to the trouble of climbing over the fence if they could just open the gate? The obvious answer was they were up to no good.


    From the park bench he had a reasonably good view of the graveyard. Or at least of the part that was nearest him. Which, as luck would have it, was the part that the people stayed in. He watched suspiciously as they stopped beside a grave. From this distance he couldn''t make out any distinguishing features about either of them. They were both tall and black-haired, both dressed in black -- and both armed with shovels.


    As he watched suspiciously the two of them began to dig up the grave. The sheer nerve of doing such a thing in broad daylight was somehow more baffling than them robbing a grave at all. Ilaran stared, hardly able to believe his eyes, as they struggled with the shovels.


    Clearly they weren''t very intelligent grave-robbers. Half the time they got in each other''s way. They piled the displaced earth too close to the graveside, and it fell in again when they dug too close.


    I don''t think I have to do anything, Ilaran decided. They''re foiling their own plans without any help.


    He set his book down and sat back to watch the misadventures of the bumbling grave-robbers.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    <hr>


    "Oh, this is hopeless!" Abi groaned. She tried to comb the earth out of her hair with her fingers. Unfortunately her fingers were so dirty that she just made matters worse. "It''ll take us all year at this rate."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ scooped up a shovelful of earth and attempted to pour it onto the solid ground beside the grave. The edge of the shovel clanged against the headstone. All the earth cascaded down into the grave again. More than half of it got into Ir¨ªm¨¦''s shoes.


    "I still say we should use magic," he grumbled.


    He leaned against the headstone and balanced on one foot as he took one of his shoes off. After he shook the dirt out of it he put it on again and took off the other. Unfortunately another mini-landslide fell just as he put the second shoe on again. Both his shoes immediately filled up with soil for the umpteenth time.


    "Argh!" Infuriated, he stabbed his shovel into the grave. It promptly hit a stone. Its resulting shudder twisted the handle right out of his hands. With a resounding thunk it hit the headstone with enough force to leave a scrape on the marble.


    "I don''t know if using magic for this will have an effect on necromancy," Abi said dubiously. She looked down at her own shoes, which were now encased in an outer crust of soil, and the absolutely filthy hems of her trousers. The earth in Eldrin had a nasty tendency to become thick, cloying mud when it rained, and it took whole weeks of sun before it dried up properly. Until then it was a horrible sticky loam that clung to everything it touched. No amount of washing would ever get all of the stuff off her clothes now. "...But I think we''ll risk it."


    She scrambled out of the grave, dislodging more soil and getting more of it on her clothes. At this rate she''d look like something that had crawled out of a mud lagoon before the day was over. Her parents would have conniptions.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ climbed out on the other side. He glared down at the grave as if it had personally offended him. The effect was somewhat ruined by the streaks of mud on his face.


    Abi gathered her magic and concentrated. She pictured the soil neatly piling up on the side of the grave. Then she cast the spell. She and Ir¨ªm¨¦ had to quickly jump away as the earth poured itself out of the grave like a waterfall flowing uphill. The grave had been filled in only the day before. Within seconds all the gravediggers'' hard work was undone, and a small mountain of earth sat beside the open grave.


    The afternoon sun glinted off the surface of the coffin. It wasn''t nearly as dirty as Abi would have expected it to be. Especially after being under all that mud for a full day. The two would-be necromancers peered down at it.


    "So what do we do now?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked. "Open it? Drag it up?"


    For a minute Abi pictured the two of them jumping down into the morass beneath the coffin and trying to lift it out of the grave. She shuddered. "No. I''ll try reanimating the body while it''s still in the coffin. Then it can open the lid itself."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ gave her the sort of dubious look that generally preceded, ''Are you sure you know what you''re doing?'' At least he was polite enough not to say it out loud. She would have been infuriated if he had; after all, he was only here because he volunteered.


    She gathered her magic again. Eyes closed, she imagined a dead body. It was unfortunately a faceless dead body, as she had no idea what the person in the coffin looked like. She''d chosen them solely because they were the most recently deceased resident of the cemetery. Then she pictured the body waking up and pushing open the coffin lid. When she was sure she had a clear enough picture of what she wanted the spell to do, she cast it into the coffin.


    The thing about magic in general was that it was so much simpler than most people thought. That included the sort of magic dismissed as "dark". Books about it always created an air of mystery around it. Every last one of them claimed it was very complicated and required arcane rituals. The scant information available on necromancy took this to its logical conclusion and portrayed raising the dead as something that only a person who''d spent centuries studying dark magic could ever hope to understand.


    In reality it was very simple. All you needed was to know what you wanted and to tell your magic to do it. Of course there was the potential for disaster. But by and large it was as easy as using a spell to boil a kettle.


    No sooner had Abi cast the spell than shuffles and creaks began inside the coffin. The lid slid open and landed in the mud with a squelch. Silently the dead body stood upright in the coffin.


    It was the body of a surprisingly young woman, perhaps less than two thousand years old. She was dressed in traditional blood-red funeral clothes, complete with a see-through veil over her head.


    She was also not moving any more.


    Abi groaned silently. Another mindless puppet that would do nothing unless she outright commanded it. The trouble with necromancy was that the necromancer had to spell everything out for the corpses.


    Or perhaps not. A thought struck her as she frowned down at the motionless body. Carefully she imagined a heart -- not a realistic heart, but the best mental image of one she could come up with. Then she imagined it beginning to beat. Next she pictured a pair of lungs, and made them start to breathe.


    She cast another spell and hoped for the best.


    At first nothing seemed to happen. Ir¨ªm¨¦ leaned forward, holding onto the headstone for support, and reached out to poke the dead girl''s shoulder.


    "Are you sure it''s working?" he asked doubtfully. "She isn''t very... Well, she''s not exactly... She doesn''t look very alive, does she?"


    Much as it pained her to admit it, he had a point. Abi knelt down at the graveside -- her trousers could hardly get any dirtier by now -- and took the girl''s hand. She pressed her fingers against her wrist. Seconds later she gave a startled yelp and jumped back.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ stared at her like she''d gone mad. "What''s wrong?"


    Abi grabbed the girl''s wrist again. Her own hand was shaking so much that she could hardly hold it properly. Yet there could be no mistake. A strong and very definite heartbeat thrummed just beneath the skin. Even as Abi still held her wrist she felt the corpse''s cold skin was steadily growing warmer. When she let go of the wrist the arm didn''t fall lifeless at the girl''s side. It stayed outstretched, the fingers noticeably twitching.


    The girl took a deep, gasping breath; the sort of breath someone would take after swimming underwater for as long as they could. Her head turned from side to side. She reached out and touched the walls of the grave. Slowly she tapped her hands against them, as if she expected to find a door handle somewhere.


    Abi looked at Ir¨ªm¨¦. His mouth hung open and his eyes might very well fall out of his head if he widened them any more. She would have teased him about it if she wasn''t sure she looked just as flabbergasted.


    Nor were the shocks over. The perhaps-no-longer-dead girl found the edges of the grave. She grabbed them and heaved herself up. A minute later she stood beside the empty grave, her bright red clothes muddy, out of breath from climbing out.


    The three of them stood frozen for a long time. Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ couldn''t have moved if their lives depended on it. The girl, even though she was somewhat alive, stayed as still as when she had been just a puppet.


    At last someone spoke. Someone who was definitely not one of them.


    "What the hell?"

 Chapter XVII: Necromancy in the Graveyard

    Not only are we all in the same boat, but we are all seasick. -- G. K. Chesterton, What''s Wrong With the World


    In hindsight it''s always easy to see the flaws in a plan. No matter how obvious an oversight, it''s rarely seen until after it inconveniences everyone. Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ had made sure the graveyard was empty before they began digging. Alas, they''d forgotten that people outside the graveyard could see in.


    They turned and stared with matching expressions of horror in the direction of the voice. A stranger stared back at them with equal horror mingled with outrage. He stood barely three yards away from them, on the other side of the fence dividing the graveyard from what looked like an open field. There could be no doubt he''d seen everything.


    Abi looked around wildly. There was the open grave. The shovels. The mounds of earth. Most damning of all, the corpse was still frozen in place, looking like a dressmaker''s dummy someone had put in funeral clothes for a prank.


    She took a deep breath and tried to reassure herself. Perhaps the stranger had only just arrived. Maybe he hadn''t seen the corpse climb out of the grave by itself.


    The man''s next action showed how futile that hope was. He glared directly at the corpse, eyes narrowed and mouth set in a grim line. He raised his hand. A rush of magic shot past Abi, close enough for it to make her own magic lash out in defense, and struck the corpse. It shuddered and slumped forward like a puppet whose strings had slackened.


    From the brief contact she had with it Abi could tell the man''s magic wasn''t a sort she was familiar with. Under other circumstances she would have been interested in learning what sort it was and where he had learnt it. But even though she didn''t know what it was, she could tell what it was meant to do from her magic''s reaction.


    It was an exorcism spell.


    The corpse straightened up again and went back to imitating a statue. Well, that confirmed that exorcisms were useless against Abi''s creations. That information might be helpful in the future.


    Perhaps Ir¨ªm¨¦ also realised what the spell was meant to do. Perhaps he simply thought it was time to take matters into his own hands. Whatever his reasoning, he decided now was the perfect time to try mind control. Why in the name of all that was holy did he think that was a good idea? Abi hadn''t a clue. She suspected he hadn''t, either.


    If there was one sort of magic that was almost impossible to master, it was anything to do with manipulating another person''s mind. To start with you needed a natural talent for telepathy -- a far greater talent than the simple ability to communicate mentally with someone else. You had to be able to read a complete stranger''s mind with perfect accuracy. And when you began to manipulate their mind, you needed a clear picture of what you wanted them to believe and the determination to force them to believe it.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ had none of that. Or if he had, he was the world''s best actor and had managed to conceal it from everyone for centuries.


    Undaunted by such petty things as common sense or capability, he still tried it.


    "Move along," he shouted at the man, backing his words up with as much magic as he could force into them. Unfortunately it was more or less directionless magic that fizzled out without ever reaching its target. "This is perfectly normal. Nothing to see here."


    Abi face-palmed. There were times when she simply had to face facts. In this case the facts were simple. Her fianc¨¦ was an idiot. And no one liked someone trying to meddle with their mind. Whether or not the attempt was successful never mattered. The fact it was made in the first place was enough to send the most mild-mannered of people on the warpath.


    Sure enough, the man''s tone suggested he was on the verge of committing murder. "Why you little--"


    It was time to intervene.


    "Both of you be quiet!" Abi shouted. She channelled no magic into her words, but she did imitate her foster mother''s most commanding tone. Empress Hatsuayazora usually dedicated her time to arranging social events, patronages, visiting charities, and attempting to ensure the royal family didn''t make fools of themselves. She rarely felt the need to personally intercede in court business. But when she did, even the most loud-mouthed officials fell silent. And when she was displeased with someone, that unfortunate soul wished they were at the bottom of the ocean''s deepest abyss. "I am Abihira Hartannasv¨®eln of the Sinistrah clan. The granddaughter of the empress herself. My fianc¨¦ and I are here on official business. I order you to leave at once!"


    The man gave her a thoroughly unimpressed look. "Well, I am Ilaran Illessilru, Prince of Tananerl, and I sincerely doubt her Majesty considers necromancy official business."


    "I was being serious!" Abi protested.


    "I know you were. So was I."


    Oh. That made things... ever so slightly awkward.


    <hr>


    "Let me get this straight. You''re trying to raise the dead to win a bet?"


    "It''s not a bet, exactly," Abi said. "Think of it more as avoiding potential blackmail."


    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Anyone passing who happened to look over would have been greatly confused by the scene in the graveyard. There were Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦, covered in mud and looking more like a pair of street rats than members of the upper class. There was Prince Ilaran, in perfectly respectable but utterly unremarkable clothes, who could easily have been mistaken for a bank clerk. And of course there was the corpse. She was both the most conspicuous member of the group, and also the one who contributed the least to the conversation. She hadn''t even groaned or wailed as legends insisted the reanimated dead always did.


    Of course there was the possibility that Prince Ilaran was lying about his identity. The longer Abi talked to him, however, the more she became convinced he really was who he claimed to be. First was the fact that the Prince of Tananerl was one of the most obscure ruling princes in the empire. He stayed in his own province most of the time, never got involved in squabbles between his peers, and generally did nothing to attract attention. The average person in Eldrin didn''t even know his name, and would not be at all interested to hear he was visiting the city.


    Second was his eye colour and his foreign accent. Abi had never been to Tananerl. Nor did she think she''d ever met its prince -- though Kiriyuki had once visited on a diplomatic trip. But she clearly remembered two things her foster sister said upon her return. One was that the Prince of Tananerl had green eyes -- something seen as a great misfortune in Saoridhl¨¦m, but as a fascinating oddity in Seroyawa. The other was that the Tananerlish accent was nothing at all like the Saoridhian one. (Which was unsurprising when she remembered the language of Tananerl was unrelated to Saoridhian.)


    Lastly, and most convincingly, was how he held himself. Royals and aristocrats everywhere had etiquette and proper posture drilled into their heads from infancy. As a result there was an immediately obvious difference between their posture and everyone else''s. They weren''t even aware of it unless someone pointed it out to them. Only the most skilled impostor could have convincingly faked it for any length of time.


    Therefore there was only one conclusion. Through one of the strangest and most bizarre coincidences imaginable, the person to witness Abi''s latest attempt at necromancy was also her distant cousin.


    She kept that thought in mind during the conversation. Appealing to family ties was a last resort in emergencies, but one that it was most improper to refuse.


    "How in the world is it preventing blackmail?" Over the last few minutes Ilaran had gained the bewildered expression common among people who talked to Abi. "You''re just creating more blackmail material."


    She had to admit he had a point. Possibly. "I suppose so. But who''s going to blackmail someone who can raise the dead?"


    "And the dead haven''t hurt anyone," Ir¨ªm¨¦ added.


    Ilaran did not look like he found this reassuring. Then again, he didn''t look well in general. All Saoridhians were pale, but his skin was a most unhealthy sallow, waxy colour. The shadows under his eyes were so large they strongly resembled bruises.


    "Why do you want to raise the dead anyway?" he asked, staring at the corpse as if he expected it to answer.


    Experience had taught Abi that most people did not accept ''because I want to'' as a good enough answer. Unfortunately it was the only truthful answer she could give. So she thought quickly and came up with something that sounded less arrogant.


    "Just think of all the information we could get if we could talk to long-dead people," she said with her best attempt at sounding enthusiastic. She was vaguely aware of Ir¨ªm¨¦ rolling his eyes. "Historians could settle disputes once and for all. Engineers would be able to talk directly to inventors. We''d be able to solve crimes that have baffled the police for years."


    Something sharpened in Ilaran''s eyes. Abi stopped abruptly, feeling like a skater who''d just heard the ice crack.


    "Can you talk to the dead yet?" he demanded.


    "Not yet," she admitted. "I''m sure I will soon."


    "Do you think you could talk to someone who died five hundred years ago? Would their testimony be reliable enough to stand up in court?"


    That doesn''t sound like a hypothetical question, Abi thought. "I expect so. I don''t know yet."


    Once, many years ago, she''d come face to face with an umikesu[1]. It had stared at her as if deciding whether or not she was worth attacking. In the end it had wandered away into the forest, and Abi had fled back to safety as fast as her legs could carry her. The horror of that moment still made her shudder when she thought of it.


    The look Ilaran gave her now reminded her of nothing so much as that cat.


    "Is there any chance you could find out within a week? Before next Khidhen[2]?"


    Abi considered it. Could she manage it? To communicate with the dead in only six days? "I don''t know. Why?"


    Some of the sharpness faded from Ilaran''s gaze. "I''m going to present a case to the empress on Khidhen. I need as much damning evidence as I can find, and I don''t have enough yet."


    Odd though it seemed, this made Abi relax more than anything else he''d said. A person willing to use necromancy to further his own ends was a person unlikely to cause a fuss because she was practicing necromancy in the first place.


    "I could try," she said, ignoring Ir¨ªm¨¦''s attempts to get her attention. "Who is the case against?"


    Ilaran''s mouth briefly twisted into a snarl. "Haliran-r¨²daun."


    She hadn''t known it was possible to put so much hatred into a single name. Especially not a name she recognised.


    "How curious," she said aloud, almost to herself. "I have to visit Haliran-r¨²daun soon."


    Both Ilaran and Ir¨ªm¨¦ stared at her. In unison they exclaimed, "What?"


    <hr>


    It took over an hour to put the corpse back in her coffin, fill in the grave again, and draw up some sort of battle plan. Well, Abihira insisted on calling it a battle plan. Ir¨ªm¨¦ couldn''t see why. It wasn''t as if they were actually going to battle.


    Though, considering what Prince Ilaran accused Haliran of, this might very well end in a battle. Of words, even if not of weapons.


    There was just one thing he didn''t understand.


    "I''m sorry, what did you just say? Your cousin is half snake?"


    It was, he felt, a very valid question. Prince Ilaran clearly disagreed. He glared at Ir¨ªm¨¦ as if he had never met anyone so stupid.


    "Half snake spirit," he corrected. To Abi, he said, "You probably won''t see him unless he wants to see you. If you do get a chance to talk to him tell him I want to speak to him. But it won''t matter if you don''t. He''ll come and see me eventually."


    "While I''m there should I look around the place?" Abi asked.


    Ilaran shook his head. "It would make Haliran suspicious. She wouldn''t leave anything incriminating around for anyone to find. Besides, Siarvin has already made records of everything he could find."


    On the surface it sounded very simple. Abi would visit Haliran. While she was there she would find out if any ghosts were lingering around just waiting for a necromancer to come along and communicate with them. Ir¨ªm¨¦ sincerely doubted anything of the sort would happen. All right, Abi insisted it was theoretically possible. But experience had taught him that in spite of what she said Abi still had no idea what she was talking about half the time.


    Something was practically guaranteed to go wrong with this plan.

 Chapter XVIII: Abihira and Haliran

    And when the Patrician was unhappy, he became very democratic. He found intricate and painful ways of spreading that unhappiness as far as possible. -- Terry Pratchett, Guards! Guards!


    So far nothing had gone horribly wrong. In fact everything had gone much better than expected. Truth be told Abi had not been nearly as certain as she pretended to be about the existence of ghosts lingering around the person responsible for their death. Yes, legend spoke of such creatures. One of the five great ghost stories revolved around them. The trouble was that legends tended to be a grain of truth wrapped in a great deal of fiction. Anyone who believed all legends were absolutely true was setting themselves up for a tremendous disappointment.


    And yet. Now that she knew what she was looking for, she found Haliran''s house was indeed haunted.


    It was hard to put her finger on just how she knew. There were no disembodied voices. Nothing moved around or fell over on its own. She didn''t see any ghostly shapes or feel any sudden drops in temperature. Yet she knew the house was haunted with the unshakable certainty as she knew the sun would rise and set every day.


    She never knew how she ever got through the conversation with Haliran. Later it was just a blur in her memory. Of course, that tended to happen when someone was trying to carry on two conversations at once.


    It started as a simple experiment. Abi chose a corner of the room where she was almost sure a ghost was standing. Of course it had nothing to do with the fact the corner in question was directly opposite her and right behind Haliran, and therefore she could look at it without attracting attention. That was just a happy coincidence. Or so she told herself. Talking to ghosts was at least fifty percent pretence, and another thirty percent pretending to yourself. The real danger with dark magic was that gradually you stopped understanding what was real and what was just in your head.


    Anyway, Abi selected a place where there was possibly a ghost. Then she did the telepathic equivalent of grabbing a loudspeaker and yelling in the ear of someone standing right next to her.


    HELLO? IS ANYONE THERE? CAN YOU HEAR ME?


    She did take the precaution of blocking out Haliran and all other living people in the house. She wasn''t absolutely stupid, no matter what some people thought.


    <hr>


    Unknown to Abihira, she only blocked out all the living people in the house whose telepathy was on the same metaphorical wavelength as her own. Snake spirits -- including those who were only half snake spirit -- used a very similar form of telepathy, but one that needed to be blocked out in a different way.


    Shizuki was dozing on the rooftop. Unfortunately for him he was lying directly above the living room.


    Abi''s ear-splitting yell almost scared him out of his skin.


    <hr>


    Inside the house Abi had no idea of the fright she''d just given one unfortunate immortal. She pretended to listen to Haliran''s babble while waiting for some reply from a ghost.


    She waited a long time. Well, it felt like a long time when Haliran wouldn''t shut up about how much someone''s wedding had cost. Finally she got an answer.


    It was less an answer and more a barrage of conflicting emotions. Hate. Rage. Grief. Confusion. Fear. Despair. So many more that she couldn''t even distinguish between them. They all struck Abi with the force of a freight train. It was a minor miracle that she didn''t fall out of her chair.


    Haliran did not seem to be the most observant person around. But even she couldn''t help noticing when her visitor slumped back in her chair with a gobsmacked expression.


    "Your Highness? Are you quite all right?"


    Abi blinked until the room came back into focus. "I... Yes. Just a bad headache."


    "Shall I get you a headache tablet?"


    Haliran sounded perfectly helpful and concerned. Abi agreed without thinking. It was only after Haliran sent a servant to bring her a tablet that Abi remembered what Ilaran had said about her host''s fondness for drugging people.


    She watched with wide eyes as the servant returned with the tablet and a glass of water. Could she possibly pretend to take the tablet then spit it out? Should she claim her headache had miraculously disappeared?


    No. There was no way out of this hole she''d dug for herself except to take the tablet and hope for the best.


    Abi tried to reassure herself with, Surely not even Haliran would dare to drug a member of the royal family. It was not as comforting as she hoped.


    The tablet tasted just as bitter and unpleasant as painkillers usually did. She grimaced and quickly drank the glass''s entire contents.


    "Thank you," she said, pasting on a polite smile and praying she hadn''t walked right into a trap. Drugs work quickly, don''t they? I''ll know the truth soon enough.


    Five minutes later she was still fully conscious and felt perfectly well. Haliran had gone back to talking about something or other. Abi occasionally "hmm"ed just to make sure her host thought she was still listening. She gave the rest of her attention to trying to communicate with the ghost again.


    What is your name?


    A dozen voices screamed conflicting answers all at once. This time Abi kept her expression under control. She didn''t grimace even when the voices became far too loud.


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    One at a time, please! she shouted at the ghosts. Why are you still lingering here?


    Faintly she heard a few grumbles, as if the ghosts did not appreciate a mere immortal telling them what to do. Too bad for them. She didn''t want to end up with a real headache, thank you very much.


    A single, rather reedy voice piped up. It sounded like it was right beside her. Abi only just stopped herself jumping away.


    I am buried under the door, the voice said. It was a very young voice. Unless she was mistaken it was a small child''s. That made her shudder more than anything else.


    Indistinct mutters and whispers came from the other ghosts. Abi couldn''t catch everything they said. From what she did hear it sounded like the one beside her was the only ghost actually buried here.


    --poisoned me-- She burnt my will-- Murderer! --betrayed us, left us there-- Get us out of here! Amidst the angry accusations and pleas she heard someone lament, I''m stuck here and there isn''t a drop of good wine in the place.


    A high-pitched wail pierced through the commotion. It came from directly behind Abi. She grabbed the arms of the chair to stop herself jumping away from it. When the initial shock wore off she realised what it was.


    The cry of a newborn baby.


    <hr>


    L¨ªusal was waiting to ambush her when Abi returned to the palace.


    "Well?" she demanded. "Have you got the pottery?"


    The events of the last few hours had not had a very good effect on Abi''s temper. She glared at her sister. "Do you never think of anything but your damn collection?"


    She swept past, leaving L¨ªusal to gape and splutter behind her. One of the doors creaked open and Kiriyuki popped her head out.


    "If you''re looking for your darling fianc¨¦, he''s gone to the opera," she began. She stopped, looked more closely at Abi''s unnatural pallor and how tense she was, and realised they were all on very thin ice. "Your mother wants to talk to you about your dress for the festival. I''ll tell her you don''t feel well."


    "Thank you," Abi forced herself to say. The words stuck in her throat and came out sounding far more sarcastic than she meant. "I''m going to bed. I have a headache."


    <hr>


    Even the most absurd opera could provide a welcome distraction from grim reality. For over three hours Ir¨ªm¨¦ managed to forget necromancy, murders, and plans to communicate with the dead. He focused on the opera''s comical story of a misplaced letter, a case of mistaken identity, and a thoroughly unwelcome visitor as if it was the most interesting thing he''d ever seen. When the performance was over he felt less as if life was a vale of tears, and more ready to face whatever Abihira had discovered during her visit.


    Unfortunately his mother was lying in wait when he left the theatre. She pounced before he could get into the carriage.


    "There you are!" she exclaimed. "I''ve been looking everywhere for you. Come along! We''re going shopping. It''s time you had a suitable outfit for the festival."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ found himself dragged off before he could protest.


    Oh well, he thought with forced optimism. I don''t expect Abi will have heard anything really important.


    <hr>


    Hours passed. Thank the gods, everyone left Abi alone. Of course she knew it couldn''t last. But while it did the peace and quiet was more than welcome. In the silence of her room she lay on top of her bed and replayed the events of the afternoon. She focused especially on the clearest voice she''d heard.


    "I am buried under the door."


    The child hadn''t specified which door. Abi suspected it was probably the front one. Many thousands of years ago there had been a cruel custom. When a house was newly-built it was believed that evil spirits would get in unless there was a guardian at the door to keep them out. Only someone with a pure, untainted heart could be the guardian. And so the house''s owner found a young child. Sometimes it was their own child. Sometimes parents outright sold their children to gain money and respect. Sometimes they kidnapped a rival''s child. However it happened, they brought the child to the house, killed them, and buried them under the door.


    Empress Merelyin outlawed the practice more than a hundred thousand years ago. It still lingered in some places, kept quiet and never openly spoken of. Abi had never heard of an actual case before. Yet she couldn''t think of any other likely explanation.


    Now she had to find out who had built Haliran''s manor. If Haliran herself had built it, she was probably the murderess. If someone else had, Haliran couldn''t be implicated in it without solid evidence.


    I can''t just ask Grandmother to dig up the front step without a reason, Abi thought. Maybe Ilaran knows something more about it.


    The clatter of approaching footsteps jarred her out of her thoughts and warned her that peace and quiet was about to vanish.


    Hartanna threw the door open without bothering to knock. "Abihira! Come and choose which of these dresses you''ll wear."


    Abi got up with a sigh. Necromancy and murder investigations would just have to wait. Even if Hartanna had known about them, festival clothes would always take precedence.


    <hr>


    The chessboard in Ilaran''s room had changed once again. He''d run out of knights, so instead he added a king and queen to the group arrayed against the rook. It was a sight that would have reduced any chess enthusiast to tears of rage at all the broken rules and the complete lack of logic. Ilaran, who had never been able to understand chess no matter how hard he tried, saw nothing wrong with how he used it to make his plans. It was both easy visual shorthand and a riddle that only he and those closest to him could solve.


    He stared at it thoughtfully, debating whether or not to move the pawns representing Haliran''s allies closer to the rook representing her. When he looked up he found a snake opposite him. It stared at the board with the horrified expression of someone who did understand chess but couldn''t make heads or tails out of this mess.


    "Hello, Shizuki," Ilaran said.


    Shizuki changed back into his immortal form. He waved a hand at the board. "What is this?"


    From his tone anyone would have thought he''d just witnessed something appalling.


    "A code I invented. It''s a good thing you''re here. I''ve something very important to tell you. We have two new allies."


    Ilaran expected questions on who they were and why he thought he could trust them. Shizuki only frowned.


    "Today one shouts loud?" he asked. That made as much sense as Kivoduin''s philosophical ramblings after too many drinks. He grimaced, willed away his fangs, and tried again. "The princess visited Haliran again today. I don''t know what on earth happened, but she woke me up with her yelling. Then I heard her talking to herself."


    For a minute Ilaran worried about Abihira''s mental health. Then he remembered this was the woman who had successfully raised the dead. She was practically required to be... eccentric.


    "Yes, Princess Abihira is one. Her fianc¨¦ is the other."


    He gave a brief explanation of how he met them. Shizuki''s eyes grew wider and wider as the story continued.


    "A necromancer?" he screeched. "A necromancer?"


    "She can help us get information from the people Haliran''s killed," Ilaran said, ignoring his own doubts on that score.


    Shizuki still didn''t look convinced. "But she''s a necromancer! That''s very dark magic!"


    Clearly this was an argument he wouldn''t win.


    "She''s helping us," Ilaran said firmly. "I''ve seen her raise the dead. She can control them, however she does it."


    Perhaps that was stretching the truth a little. But at least it silenced Shizuki''s objections.


    <hr>


    Abi believed she had un-reanimated the corpse she raised. Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Ilaran also had no doubts that the girl they helped rebury had not been conscious. None of them gave any thought to the grave or its occupant. None of them thought to check on the body.


    Under the heavy weight of earth, safely secured in her coffin, the dead girl lay silent and motionless.


    Her reawakened heart still beat steadily.

 Chapter XIX: Day of Comets

    You do not see as quite as well as you think. -- C. S. Lewis, The Silver Chair


    "Well? What do you think?"


    Abi stared at the collection of dresses with a mixture of emotions. On the one hand, all of them were very pretty. On the other, she couldn''t quite see herself wearing most of them. They were all far too brightly-coloured, had too elaborate patterns, and were generally not the sort of things she would buy for herself.


    Hartanna''s patience began to run out. "You''ve tried all of them on. Which one do you want to wear?"


    In spite of their name dresses in Saoridhl¨¦m were not actually all one garment -- and like almost all Saoridhian fashions they were worn by both men and women, usually with no obvious differences to distinguish a man''s outfit from a woman''s. They were made of a pair of trousers called kelfin, a skirt called a j¨®rnin that almost always only went half way around the waist and was open at the front to display the trousers, an inner blouse called a laroth, an outer blouse called a nithenol that was more like a cardigan without buttons and was left open to display the inner blouse, a sort of sash or thick belt around the waist called a ralos, and possibly a cape or capelet called a kathen. The different pieces were all the same colour, the same pattern, or in some other way showed they were meant to be worn together. As Abi eyed the selection an idea struck her. True, the pieces were meant to be worn together. Yet there was no law saying they had to be.


    She selected a royal blue skirt with pleats and silver embroidery, a plain silver inner blouse, and an outer blouse of a bluish silver colour. Hartanna watched in shocked outrage as she finished her selected outfit with a black sash, blue trousers and a waist-length black cape embroidered with silver galaxies.


    "What in the world?" Hartanna couldn''t take this any more. "None of those pieces are meant to go together!"


    "I know they''re not," Abi agreed calmly. "But I think they suit each other. There''s nothing to show they aren''t parts of the same outfit. And I prefer them to any of the actual dresses."


    Her mother spluttered indignantly. "You''re going to make a fool of yourself!"


    Abi thought of some of the fashionable eyesores she''d had the displeasure of seeing in both Saoridhl¨¦m and Seroyawa. At least her chosen outfit didn''t include magenta or puce. "I''m sure I won''t be the only one."


    <hr>


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ eyed the outfit his mother had chosen for him with trepidation. Why do I feel like I''m going to make a fool of myself?


    There was nothing actually wrong with the outfit. It wasn''t a garish colour or blinding pattern. It was made of a white laroth, a white nithenol with birds embroidered in red and orange thread, a red ralos -- not the brilliant blood-red of funeral and mourning clothes, which would have been a terrible faux pas to wear at a festival, but a duller, less vivid shade -- with pale grey kelfin and a j¨®rnin that was white at the top and faded to become a pale greyish-gold colour near the hem. It was a perfectly normal outfit and wouldn''t cause any raised eyebrows.


    It was also too long.


    More accurately, he simply wasn''t used to wearing an ankle-length j¨®rnin. In his home province the fashion was for j¨®rnin that were knee-length at the longest. Unfortunately in Eldrin that would have been seen as a daring innovation at best and a bizarre crime against fashion at worst.


    "For heaven''s sake what''s wrong with you?" his mother demanded after the third time he stumbled and almost fell flat on his face.


    Thank goodness Abihira isn''t here to see this, Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought miserably. It was quite bad enough that the tailor wore the poker-faced expression of someone who desperately wanted to laugh.


    "Can you shorten the hem?" he asked hopefully.


    The tailor shook his head. "We''re run off our feet with people wanting major alterations. We can''t afford to be distracted by something so minor. Besides, everyone''s hem is that length."


    If I ever meet the person who thought that was a good idea I''ll-- I''ll-- Ir¨ªm¨¦''s indignation came to an abrupt and sheepish halt when he found himself unable to think of a suitable way to end the threat.


    "Just get used to it," his mother said impatiently. "Now hurry up and let''s get out of here. I have a most important appointment at the zoo."


    <hr>


    Most people spent the day before the festival in going through their wardrobe and making last-minute preparations. Ilaran, on the other hand, had selected his outfit before ever leaving Tananerl, and he had made all his preparations. Instead the evening found him at the docks, studying every ship that arrived from Seroyawa. Occasionally he stopped and compared a name to what was written on the telegram he carried.


    At last he found the right ship. It was a small cargo ship, not the sort that usually carried passengers. Yet a passenger had just walked down the gangplank. A passenger who clearly intended to be in Saoridhl¨¦m for quite some time, if his large suitcase was any indication. He looked around at the chaotic docks, crowded with people from all over the world and beyond, with the lost expression of a newcomer who knew no one and nothing.


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    He was so busy looking around that he didn''t notice Ilaran approach.


    "Koyuki Hatsukaze?"


    The man started. He stared up at Ilaran through eyes that were darker and more slanted than Shizuki''s, but were set in a face so eerily similar to Shizuki''s that Ilaran had to do a double take to make sure he wasn''t talking to his cousin.


    Koyuki bowed. He tightened his grip on his suitcase''s handle. It didn''t disguise how his hands trembled. "Your Highness."


    Ilaran eyed the man he had gone to so much trouble to track down. What he had heard of Koyuki''s behaviour certainly did not give him a high opinion of him. Still, he was unlikely to find anyone else with such damning evidence against Haliran.


    "We have two days before I present the case to the empress," he said as he led Koyuki to the hotel room he''d booked for him. "It''s best if you stay as far away from Haliran as possible. The last thing we need is for her to learn you''re here."


    "Believe me," Koyuki said with a grimace, "I have no wish to ever see her again."


    The certainty that he would view things in that light was the only thing that had made Ilaran think it was worthwhile taking the risk of bringing him here. He decided not to say so. Not only was Koyuki a complete stranger, he was a complete stranger who at one point had willingly worked for Haliran.


    And done rather more than just work for her, Ilaran added in the privacy of his mind. He scowled to himself when he thought of Shizuki.


    Koyuki''s thoughts apparently ran along the same line. "The... the child. Can I see him before the trial?"


    Ilaran shrugged. "I''ll tell him where you are. It''s up to him if he wants to see you."


    <hr>


    The day of the festival dawned bright and clear. Before the sun was up people flocked onto the streets. At least two bands played on every street, each doing their best to drown the other out. Sweet-shops were so full of excited children that there was no room to move. People shouted and let off fireworks. Festive pandemonium reigned all through the city.


    It only got more chaotic as the day wore on. Crowds began to flock to everywhere that offered a good view of the sky. Streets became so clogged with people and carriages that the queues stretched for miles. All the airships and trains halted for the day. Enterprising railway workers climbed up on top of the carriages and sat there. It was the only day in the year when no one lit the gas lamps around the city. Not that they were necessary. Everyone brought their own torches and lanterns. Fireworks constantly exploded overhead.


    All the noise made Abi''s head ache.


    The royal family had their own traditions on the Day of Comets. No fighting through crowded streets for them. Their houses in the city were all within easy walking distance of the main palace. Well, relatively easy. Those who lived furthest away had almost five miles to travel. Best of all -- for them -- their neighbourhood was off-limits to commoners on such chaotic days.


    When they all reached the main palace they paid their respects to the empress and emperor. After that they listened politely as the empress made a speech to the crowds gathered outside the palace.


    All through the empire people whiled away the time until sunset by dancing. The upper class hosted balls for their particular circle, and everyone aspired to an invitation to the royal ball. The lower classes had to make do with dances in music halls or out in the village square. Strange though it seemed to Abi, on sunny days the commoners were so happy with their informal parties that they publicly avowed they wouldn''t trade them for the fancy parties even if you offered them the galaxy.


    It had to be admitted that, on warm days when the sun shone brightly, the royal ballroom did feel awfully crowded and stuffy. Not even opening all the windows and doors could change the fact that over five hundred people in a single room -- however large -- was simply too much.


    Unfortunately tradition dictated that she and Ir¨ªm¨¦ had to dance together at least twice. She wouldn''t have minded so much if it hadn''t been so crowded.


    "Look on the bright side," Ir¨ªm¨¦ remarked when she said this. "No one will notice if we make any mistakes."


    He had looked rather grim all day long. Now he looked positively miserable.


    "What''s wrong with you?" Abi asked, staring at him.


    He scowled. "This dratted outfit. I''m going to trip over it, I just know it!"


    She quickly raised her fan to hide her grin. "What happened to ''no one will notice''?"


    "I think they might notice someone fall over their own clothes," he grumbled.


    Abi looked over at Kiriyuki. After her arrival the empress had frantically tried to avoid any accusations of not treating the future empress of Seroyawa with the proper courtesy. Kiriyuki had found herself made the guest of honour at every event. She was now trapped in conversation with an endless stream of fawning diplomats. Someone who didn''t know her would have thought she was perfectly content with this situation. Abi knew better. The faintest thinning of her lips, the slightest of frowns, the way she stood ramrod straight; they were all clues to how much she wished she was anywhere else.


    If they were back in Seroyawa Abi would have gone to her aid. No one expected much grasp of protocol from a foreigner -- something she had exploited many times before. But now they were in Saoridhl¨¦m, Kiriyuki was here of her own accord, and Abi was expected to obey protocol.


    "Don''t worry," she told Ir¨ªm¨¦ in an attempt at being comforting. "Everyone''s lining up to speak to Kiriyuki. None of them are paying any attention to the rest of us."


    He did not look reassured.


    The orchestra struck up a waltz. As was traditional, the empress and emperor began to dance first. Their children and their children''s spouses joined in next, followed by anyone else who wanted to dance.


    "Shall we get it over with now?" Abi asked.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ shook his head. "Not so soon. Everyone''s more likely to notice our mistakes at the very start of the ball. Do we know anyone here?"


    On the other side of the room Abi spotted Ilaran. He appeared to be deep in conversation with one of her aunts. She pointed him out to Ir¨ªm¨¦.


    "Thank goodness," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said. "I don''t think I could have got through the evening if there wasn''t at least one person I recognised."


    Abi raised an eyebrow. Ir¨ªm¨¦ rolled his eyes.


    "Obviously I''m not including you in that. Or your family. Or--" He grimaced, "--my mother."


    To no one''s surprise Kumolnea had struck up a conversation with another collector of rare animals. Abi was amused to note Arafaren had somehow been dragged into the discussion. He stood off to the side with the awkward air of someone who didn''t know how he got into this situation, and was staring at the drinks table as if he hoped to magic it closer to him.


    Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ sat down on the chairs provided for those who weren''t dancing. They amused themselves for the remainder of the first dance and the duration of the second and third by discussing some of Abi''s less successful magic experiments, and some of the worst musicians Ir¨ªm¨¦ had ever heard.


    <hr>


    Meanwhile, in an empty cemetery, something stirred in the depths of a grave.

 Chapter XX: The Dead Walk the Earth

    The dreadful thing was that there was nothing, nothing to look for, nothing to hide from -- only the silence and the light. -- Margaret Oliphant, The Library Window


    Half the afternoon passed before she knew it. Abi got quite a shock when she looked up and saw how low the sun was. Out of the corner of her eye she saw her mother making frantic gestures at her and Ir¨ªm¨¦. Bemused, she looked round. Hartanna frowned at her and pointed at the dance floor. One waltz had just ended and another was about to begin.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ noticed too. He sighed. "I suppose we''ve put it off long enough."


    As always there were no shortage of people finding new partners for the next dance, or else staying with their previous one. The only good thing about the crowd was that Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ faded into insignificance. No one would see them unless they were specifically looking for them.


    It was highly irrational, yet Abi found she dreaded their first dance more than anything else in a long time. She knew it was absurd. She''d danced many times before, at many different balls, in both Saoridhl¨¦m and Seroyawa. She''d even danced with Ir¨ªm¨¦ before, at previous festivals and events they were expected to attend together. Logically there was nothing to be worried about. This was no different to any of those dances.


    Well, there were two differences. And those were the whole problem. The first one was that the empress and emperor themselves were here. The potential for accidental humiliation increased exponentially and in direct proportion to the number of very important people present.


    The second was, of course, the approaching wedding. A betrothed couple whose wedding was many years in the future was not of immediate interest to anyone. A betrothed couple who would be getting married very soon was a constant source of gossip. The slightest thing could be blown out of all proportion. By tomorrow every busybody in the city might be discussing how they''d seemed very cold towards each other, or else that they were far too friendly and a scandal was imminent.


    Abi gritted her teeth, forced a smile, and took Ir¨ªm¨¦''s hand.


    In the background she was amused to note that Arafaren was still trapped in conversation with Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mother. From the look on his face he was seriously contemplating the pros and cons of jumping out the window. Even more surprising, Kiriyuki was hand-in-hand with Abi''s oldest half-brother. She stared at them for a minute even as she and Ir¨ªm¨¦ joined the people waiting for the waltz to begin.


    I hope that''s nothing serious, she thought with a shudder.


    Kiriyuki as a foster sister was... not always bad. Sometimes she was almost bearable. But Kiriyuki as a sister-in-law was something that belonged in her deepest, darkest nightmares. The only thing that might possibly be worse was the thought of Empress Hatsuayazora as a mother-in-law. That thought made her giggle even as she cringed inwardly.


    "What''s so funny?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked.


    "Nothing, really," Abi said. "I was just thinking about in-laws."


    He shuddered. "No offense, but I''d much rather not think about anything of the sort. Especially when your mother is watching us. I''m nervous enough as it is."


    The orchestra began to play. For several minutes both Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ were too busy concentrating on not colliding with anyone, falling over, or otherwise making fools of themselves to think about anything except the waltz. By the time they relaxed enough to realise nothing disastrous was going to happen, the dance was over.


    "I suppose that wasn''t so bad," Ir¨ªm¨¦ conceded. "At least your mother''s stopped glaring at us. Shall we talk to Ilaran now?"


    Newcomers to the city were never in an enviable position at events like this. Either they didn''t know anyone and were left with no one to talk to or dance with, or they were important enough for everyone to want to talk to them. Both Kiriyuki and Ilaran were in the second category. For the last few hours every time Abi looked over at Ilaran he was deep in conversation with someone or other. Now, for the first time since the ball started, he was finally alone. It might be the only chance they had to discuss their plans.


    They pushed and dodged their way through the crowd until they reached Ilaran. He had taken refuge in an alcove near the refreshment table, and ventured out only to refill his wineglass. If he had looked ill and exhausted in the graveyard, he now looked almost unreal and barely solid. Like a ghost about to disappear, or a reflection in a cloudy mirror. His dark green outfit contrasted sharply with his pallid face and made him look even worse.


    "Are you all right?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked, staring at him in shock. "You look awful."


    For a minute Ilaran looked offended. Then he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. "You''re approximately the two hundredth person to tell me that today."


    "At the risk of being the two hundred and first, it''s true," Abi said. "If Kiriyuki saw you I''d have no trouble convincing her you were a corpse I successfully raised."


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    Her attempt at a joke fell flat. Neither Ir¨ªm¨¦ nor Ilaran laughed. Ir¨ªm¨¦ gave the sort of quietly appalled look that generally followed an especially outrageous comment. Abi turned red and wished she could take her words back.


    Mercifully Ilaran pretended she hadn''t spoken at all. "Shizuki told me he heard you shouting in Haliran''s living room. What was that about?"


    It took Abi several minutes to figure out what he was talking about. "That was me communicating with the spirits. I found out that--" She paused and glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot, "--a child''s body is buried under a door somewhere in the house."


    From the horrified looks on both men''s faces it was clear Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Ilaran had at once reached the same conclusion she had.


    "But that''s illegal!" Ir¨ªm¨¦ gasped in a shocked whisper.


    Ilaran scowled. "Many things are. It has never stopped people doing them."


    "And there''s a ghost baby in the house, too," Abi finished.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s eyes widened. "There''s a what? But-- How-- Why? Why is there a baby there?"


    Ilaran looked at his half-empty glass of wine. Without a word he drank the rest of it, then fetched two new glasses and gave them to Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦. "We''ll need alcohol for this discussion. A lot of alcohol."


    <hr>


    Several hours passed without anyone going near the graveyard. There was no one to see the earth on top of a grave slowly form a small mountain, as if something underneath was pushing it up. There was no one to see a hole finally open in the mountain. There was no one to see a dirty, bedraggled figure haul itself out and collapse beside the grave.


    At first glance the figure was so mud-stained and dirt-splattered that it was impossible to tell anything about them. When they lay on the ground they resembled nothing so much as a mound of soil themselves. Only the faintest hint of red showed under the thick black dirt.


    The corpse lay there for a long time. At last she staggered to her feet and brushed the dirt off her clothes. They were no longer the colour of fresh blood. They were barely even red anymore. No one who saw her would take her for anything but an exceptionally dirty beggar, or someone who''d had an unfortunate accident with a mud puddle. If she wandered through the city in such a state she would get scandalised looks from all the people who made a special effort to clean themselves up for the festival.


    She didn''t realise how muddy she still was. She didn''t realise that anyone would be surprised by her appearance. She didn''t even know there was anything special about the day. All she knew was that she had been asleep for what felt like a long time. Someone had woken her up, and they hadn''t come back for her.


    Her mind was still not fully awake. She didn''t know she was dead. But she knew, in some dim and distant way, that she had to find whoever had woken her.


    Slowly she made her way out of the cemetery. Frequently she stumbled as she tried to force her stiff limbs to move properly. At the back of her mind she could sense the magic of the person who had left her here. They were somewhere in the city. She could find them if she followed their magic.


    <hr>


    "What?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s shout was far too loud. People all over the ballroom heard it and craned their necks to see what was happening. Ilaran grimaced.


    "Keep your voice down!"


    Abihira immediately jumped to her fianc¨¦''s defence. "Let''s see you hear something like that and then keep your voice down! Do you really mean to tell us that your uncle killed a baby?"


    Truth be told Ilaran had never looked at it like that. People in Tananerl did not recoil from the very thought of a child''s death in the same way that foreigners did. It was simply a depressing fact of life. Children died, just as adults died. Of course it was very sad for everyone concerned, but it wasn''t seen as an absolute tragedy. It happened, everyone mourned, and then they moved on. Ilaran had seen many children die. One of his full siblings and all of his half-siblings had died young. He knew for a fact that his mother had been responsible for the deaths of at least two of his half-siblings, as well as his father and several of his father''s lovers. It was a simple reality that he accepted and never thought much about.


    He had forgotten how Saoridhians like Abihira and Ir¨ªm¨¦ would view the matter. In hindsight it was a foolish oversight. Tananerl''s attitude towards child death was one of the things other provinces used to claim they were uncivilised barbarians.


    He tried to explain. "From his perspective it wasn''t killing a baby. It was revenge by proxy, killing someone associated with an enemy."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked like he was about to murder someone. "Associated with an enemy? Just because of who its parents were?"


    It was traditional, though in recent years increasingly frowned upon, in Tananerl to kill every member of a defeated enemy''s family to ensure they could never be a threat again. There was nothing unusual to Ilaran about people being killed because of their family. Heaven knew he''d come close to being killed because of his father often enough. If they had been in a less public place he might have tried to argue about it. But right now the last thing they needed was to start a debate sure to end in screaming, insults, and general nastiness on both sides.


    "Clearly Haliran isn''t the only person who needs to stand trial," Abihira said grimly. "You can tell Siarvin that if he doesn''t admit his crime himself, I''ll personally tell the empress about it."


    He couldn''t tell Siarvin anything, unless he sent a message via Shizuki. But attempting to explain that would only keep them on this most unpleasant topic.


    "Shizuki''s father arrived today," he said, and prayed they wouldn''t insist on dragging out the argument. "He worked with Haliran for at least twenty years. He has the evidence I needed, and he''s agreed to give it at the trial tomorrow."


    Thank goodness they both accepted the change of subject with only a scowl and a few mutters.


    Abihira asked, "Does Shizuki know yet? What part will he play in all this?"


    That was a question Ilaran would like to have answered too. Shizuki undoubtedly knew more than anyone else about the things Haliran wanted to hide. He was one of those things, for that matter. But would he agree to stand in front of the entire royal court? When most people recoiled from him as if he had some dreadful disease?


    "He knows," Ilaran said. "I don''t know what he plans to do yet."


    <hr>


    As evening fell the crowds in the streets began to disperse. No one had much attention to spare for a curious figure shuffling along in very dirty clothes, hiding their face with an equally dirty veil. If they noticed them at all they thought it was just some beggar looking for scraps.


    The corpse paid no attention to any of them. She was barely even aware of her surroundings. All she knew was that she had to find the person who had brought her back.


    Unnoticed by anyone, she drew steadily nearer and nearer to the main palace.

 Chapter XXI: The Necromancer

    Genius is always allowed some leeway, once the hammer has been pried from its hands and the blood has been cleaned up. -- Terry Pratchett, Thief of Time


    In hindsight it was usually easy to see where everything had gone catastrophically wrong. There was always at least one moment you could point to and think, ''If only I''d done that differently''. Even if the person responsible couldn''t see it, someone else would always be able to spot it. Historians spent their lives studying the chain of minor, unnoticed events that culminated in disaster.


    It was a pity those minor, unnoticed events were never so easy to see before the disaster.


    On festival days the guards were always more careless around the royal palaces. They were reduced to a mere skeleton staff, more interested in attending their own parties than doing their job. A few dedicated guards saw the problem with this and made sure they were around to keep an eye on things. But they were very few, and very far between. Most of the palace was unguarded.


    It was a recipe for mayhem. There were no guards around to see a very odd figure shuffle up the steps leading to the main palace. Everyone who should have been on duty there were happily setting off fireworks and drinking with their friends.


    Inside the palace the party-goers were preparing to go up to the roof. Evening had fallen, the sun had set, and the meteor shower would soon begin. All of them lit their lanterns and slowly made their way out of the ballroom.


    With all the people milling around it was almost impossible to keep track of your companions. Abi found herself separated from Ir¨ªm¨¦ and surrounded by people she only vaguely recognised. None of them spared her a second glance. She elbowed her way through the crowd, clutching her lantern to her chest so she didn''t drop it and risk starting a fire, until she found someone she recognised.


    "Kitri!"


    She fully expected Kitri to run away as if a horde of demons were after her. But apparently the general air of festivity had overcome even necromancy-induced dislike, because Kitri smiled and waved at her as if the zombie apocalypse had never happened.


    "Did you see some of those fireworks?" she shouted as she approached Abi. She had to shout just to be heard over the noise everyone else was making. "One of them looked just like a phoenix!"


    Abi''s smile became slightly fixed. Phoenixes were the source of some mild embarrassment for her. When she was born the priests and soothsayers had told her parents she would be a phoenix immortal, like her grandfather and many other past members of the Royal House of Sinistrah. It was one of the reasons she had been fostered in Seroyawa, for the phoenix was the symbol of the Royal House of Asajihisakata. Yet years had passed and she had never displayed any signs of being a shapeshifter of any sort. Kiriyuki and Mirio had been able to turn into sea serpents from the first few days of their lives. Arafaren, a raven immortal, had taken much longer to get the hang of his wings. But all of them were able to change form at will.


    It wasn''t uncommon for someone to have no talent at shapeshifting. It wasn''t even uncommon for priests and soothsayers to be utterly wrong. Ir¨ªm¨¦ was in the same position. Everyone had been sure he was a dragon immortal, hence his name[1]. He had never even managed to breath smoke, let alone fire, and had certainly never turned into a dragon.


    Years ago he''d told her he was perfectly happy with this state of affairs. His exact words had been, "If I turned into a dragon Mother might add me to her collection."


    There was a good chance he was right.


    Anyway, it was still embarrassing to know Fate had played such a shoddy trick on her. Abi preferred not to think about phoenixes unless she couldn''t avoid it.


    Kitri knew nothing about the uncomfortable memories her comment had dredged up. She continued to prattle happily about the many different fireworks, how much she''d enjoyed the ball, and some of the stranger lantern designs she''d seen. Abi listened, occasionally interjecting with a comment of her own. From time to time she looked around for Ir¨ªm¨¦. There was still no sign of him. Or of Ilaran, for that matter.


    The thought of Ilaran dredged up even more uncomfortable memories than the mention of phoenixes. No matter how she looked at it, there was no way she could defend or excuse Siarvin killing an innocent child. Nor could she allow him to get away with it. Yet from Siarvin''s perspective -- and from Ilaran''s too -- he had done nothing wrong.


    Cultural clashes were nothing new to Abi. Seroyawa had many customs and attitudes that Saoridhl¨¦m considered strange, and vice versa. Seroyawa allowed a man to have multiple wives or concubines. Saoridhl¨¦m had historically allowed royal women to have as many as four husbands, but never allowed men to have more than one wife. Divination was still widely accepted in Seroyawa, while Saoridhl¨¦m was becoming more sceptical. But in spite of all their other differences both of them agreed that killing children was reprehensible.


    Who decides what''s right? Abi thought. Her head began to ache the more she thought about this. Does something stop being wrong because the people who do it think it''s all right?


    That thought led her on a complicated and increasingly incoherent attempt at solving the same philosophical questions that had baffled the wise and learned for longer than she was alive.


    "It''s a nice idea, of course," Kitri was saying, blissfully unaware that Abi wasn''t even listening to most of her remarks, "but a lantern without glass is simply impractical. I told her so myself. She just laughed. Then she made the lantern anyway and the candle went out in the first gust of wind. Some people have no common sense."


    "Yes," Abi agreed absently, having a vague idea that some response was required.


    "Even that wasn''t as ridiculous as--"


    A piercing scream rang out. Everyone froze. Kitri forgot what she was going to say. The crowd was moving so slowly that Abi and Kitri were still just outside the ballroom doors. Over two hundred people blocked their view of the entrance hall. Even standing on tiptoe gave them no clear idea of what was happening.


    After craning her neck to see over everyone''s heads, Abi said, "It looks like the front doors are open."


    Kitri''s eyes widened. "Do you think it''s a burglar?"


    No burglar would be brave enough. Not when so many people are here, Abi thought.


    Somewhere near the front of the crowd people began to move apart. From the sounds of things the crowd was splitting into two halves, almost right down the middle. Mutters and exclamations filtered back to those who couldn''t see what the fuss was about.


    "What in the world?"


    "How hideous!"


    "If this is someone''s idea of a joke I hope they know it''s not one bit funny."


    "Someone get her out of here!"


    "What happened to her?"


    "Miss? Are you all right?"


    The murmurs drew nearer and nearer. The crowd began to part just in front of Abi and Kitri. Finally they were able to see the cause of all this confusion.


    Abi took one look. Her heart sank.


    It was an exceptionally dirty figure in mud-encrusted clothes. Yet when she looked closely enough, she saw they were funeral clothes. Worst of all was how horribly familiar the figure''s shambling gait was. The walking corpses in the marketplace had moved the same way.


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    Kitri turned and glared at Abi. All her previous good-will vanished in the face of this unexpected interloper.


    She didn''t speak. She just mouthed the words, "Is this one of yours?"


    Abi said nothing. She knew perfectly well that she hadn''t raised any corpses recently. She also knew that she was the only necromancer in the room -- unless someone else had been keeping secrets, and if that was the case then they had far larger problems than just a walking corpse.


    The figure continued to shamble onward. There was now no denying that it was heading straight for Abi. And as it drew closer she began to realise how much it resembled the corpse she raised in the cemetery.


    But I un-necromanced it! Abi thought wildly, throwing grammar to the wind as the truth dawned on her. It can''t be here! It''s impossible!


    The corpse stopped in front of her. It didn''t move. It didn''t speak. It gave no sign it was aware there was anyone near it at all. Low murmurs spread through the room.


    Abi stared around frantically. She met Kiriyuki''s gaze. Her foster sister gaped at her with a bug-eyed expression that would have been funny under any other circumstances. A short distance away Arafaren gave Abi a far-too-calculating look. He had always been too clever for his own good. She finally caught sight of Ir¨ªm¨¦ in the crowd ahead of her. They exchanged glances that confirmed he had reached the same conclusion she had. When she looked back towards the ballroom she found Ilaran staring at the corpse with the same look of bug-eyed horror as Kiriyuki.


    The people who had already gone upstairs on their way to the roof now realised that something had gone wrong. Curious faces appeared over the banisters. Abi''s father was one of them. He started violently when he saw the grotesque figure in front of his daughter. In the process he spilled half his wine glass over his clothes.


    Something had to be done before panic started. Or worse, before anyone put two and two together.


    Go away, she ordered the corpse. Go to-- The cemetery was too far away. Half the city would see her if Abi sent her back there. Go to the royal crypt. Hide there and don''t come out.


    The corpse obediently turned and shuffled out. Everyone watched her go with wide eyes and open mouths. She disappeared out the open door. No one moved for several long minutes. Then they all began shouting at once.


    Abi let out a breath she didn''t know she''d been holding. Without the corpse actually there to attract suspicion, she could claim she knew nothing about it. No one had any reason to suspect her of necromancy. Well, no one but the people who already knew. And Arafaren. She''d have to find something to tell him soon. She could always try to convince everyone it was a threat aimed at the royal family, and she was simply unlucky enough to be the first royal the corpse discovered.


    She could get out of this mess. She just needed to play her cards right.


    <hr>


    Never before had a festival ended in such uproar. The priests moaned and groaned about ill omens and bad luck. No two people could agree on what they had actually witnessed. The most common opinion was a prankster with terrible taste and worse timing. A small but vocal minority insisted it was an assassination attempt, or at least the threat of one. Why a relatively unknown and unimportant member of the royal family had been singled out remained a mystery. Theories abounded, ranging from the plausible -- one of the princess''s friends playing a practical joke, possibly after too much to drink -- to the utterly outlandish -- an alien invasion, or a sign Princess Abihira was either blessed or cursed by the gods.


    Only one person thought of necromancy or a walking corpse.


    Despite what common knowledge claimed, necromancy was not nearly as dead as everyone thought. Many years ago Haliran had worked with a necromancer. She had seen walking corpses before. She knew what signs to look for.


    If the sheer muddiness of the apparition hadn''t been enough to convince her it had just crawled out of a grave, its single-minded determination would have. The thing about walking corpses was that they didn''t have too much intelligence. Most of them weren''t even capable of thinking. They did exactly what the person controlling them wanted them to do. In the absence of an explicit command, they would relentlessly seek out the necromancer who raised them. When they found them they would wait silently for their master to give them a command.


    That was exactly what the entire royal court had witnessed. Haliran would wager anything you cared to name -- her house, her fortune, or even her life -- on it without even a minute''s hesitation.


    Now that the thought of necromancy had been put into her head she went over her memories of Abihira''s visits. The first visit had been unremarkable. The second one, on the other hand... All the ghosts had been more restless that day than they had been in years. She had given no thought to it at the time. Ghosts were temperamental creatures by their very nature. Haliran was the only person who could see or hear them, and she was more than used to them by now. She had ignored their tantrums just as she had done in the past.


    In hindsight it was so obvious that Abihira had communicated with them. Haliran could have kicked herself for not connecting the dots earlier.


    What had Abihira learnt from them? No one had come to arrest Haliran, so whatever she knew she must have kept it to herself. But why?


    Either she''s going to blackmail me or she just doesn''t care, Haliran thought.


    The idea that the princess might be working with someone never entered her mind. If she had learnt something so damning she would have immediately used the knowledge to her own advantage, and she would have made sure the person concerned knew it. Like so many other people she was unable to comprehend the fact someone would not act exactly as she would, and would not have the same motives as she had.


    Within an hour of the ruined festival she made her way to Princess Hartanna''s palace. As she expected she found Princess Abihira there. From outward appearances the princess was perfectly calm and composed. That was the very thing that confirmed Haliran''s suspicions. No one would be so calm right after such a public... incident.


    Haliran bowed and assumed an air of concern. "I came to ask how you were, your Highness. What a terrible shock you must have had! And all this happened today, of all days!"


    "How very kind of you," the princess said. "I''m touched by your concern."


    She did her best, but she couldn''t keep all the sarcasm out of her voice. Haliran noticed it at once.


    Not bad, little princess, she thought dryly. But you still have a great deal to learn before you can deceive everyone.


    The servant had left after showing Haliran into the sitting room. None of Abihira''s family were present. Going by the angry yells she heard, it sounded like they were all having a right royal row in a room down the hall. Now if ever was the perfect time to have it out with the princess.


    "Let''s stop pretending," she said coldly, dropping all pretence of compassion. "I know that was a walking corpse. And I know it went to you because you raised it."


    <hr>


    You could have heard a pin drop in the sitting room. Well, you could have if it wasn''t for the argument that had been raging for the last hour. Abi had never realised her parents could shout so loudly for so long.


    She stared at Haliran, frozen in place and feeling as if she''d just been slapped. Her only thought was, How does she know?


    It made no sense. There was nothing that could have given it away, especially not to Haliran of all people. Abi knew she should answer. She wanted to answer. But her tongue had turned to a leaden weight in her mouth.


    Haliran smiled. It was a cold, vicious smile. Gone was her effusive politeness and inconsequential chatter. "I also know you spoke to the ghosts at my house."


    She''s a telepath, Abi realised. It was the only explanation that made sense. Damn it, why didn''t I shield my mind better?


    True telepaths were extremely rare. Before now Abi had only met two in her whole life. She''d never thought she needed to defend herself from one. She immediately constructed stronger mental shields. But what was the use of that now?


    "What do you want?" she asked, and prepared for the worst. Would Haliran denounce her to the empress?


    "Nothing just yet," Haliran said, to Abi''s surprise. "The question is, what do you want? Do you intend to blackmail me? If so you should have done it before your little stunt this evening. Now I have even more power over you than you have over me."


    Unfortunately she was right. Abi knew it even as she wished she didn''t. She couldn''t denounce Haliran without revealing how she got her information. Worse, if Ilaran denounced Haliran then all Haliran had to do was denounce Abi in turn. Attention would immediately fall on Abi, and no one would have time to worry about anything else.


    Abi could have kicked herself. What a fool I''ve been!


    Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face. Or perhaps her mental shields still weren''t strong enough. Haliran smiled again. Never before had Abi seen a smile that incited her to such rage.


    "Don''t worry. I won''t tell the empress. On one condition. From now on you will do exactly what I ask of you, no matter what it is. And you will never mention the ghosts in my house to anyone."


    Too late, Abi thought with spiteful satisfaction. She balled her hands into fists so she wouldn''t be tempted to strangle Haliran. Just you wait until tomorrow!


    Instead of comforting her that thought gave her pause. What would happen tomorrow? She was sure that Haliran would fall. But now, with a sickening sort of certainty, she knew she would be dragged down with her.


    "Do we have a deal?"


    Abi stared at Haliran. Again she felt the urge to wring her tormentor''s scrawny neck.


    "We do," she said. Her voice was little more than a croak.


    Haliran smiled -- that hideous smile again! The mere sight of it drove Abi into a fury -- and got up to leave.


    Abi sat alone in the room for a long time after she left. At last she laughed -- a bitter, humourless laugh.


    "Well, I''ve made a fine mess of things," she said aloud to herself. "What in the world am I going to do now?"


    Never before had she considered necromancy a potential weapon. She considered it now. At length, and in great detail.


    It was the early hours of the morning before she left the sitting room. The argument was still raging down the hall. An unfortunate servant crossed her path, took one look at her face, and fled as if a pack of hellhounds were after him.


    No one saw Abi leave the palace. No one saw her walk to the royal crypt. The whole city was in darkness, and the moon and the stars were the only witnesses.


    The moon and the stars, and one nameless corpse.


    END OF BOOK ONE

 Book 2: Darkness

    BOOK TWO: SECRETS


    The cup of life was poisoned forever, and although the sun shone upon me, as upon the happy and gay of heart, I saw around me nothing but a dense and frightful darkness, penetrated by no light but the glimmer of two eyes that glared upon me. -- Mary Shelley, Frankenstein


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 Chapter I: Risen

    Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a dew of light, and the earth will give birth to the dead. -- Isaiah 26:19, ESV


    In his comparatively short life -- compared to other much older immortals, that is -- Ir¨ªm¨¦ had witnessed many festivals, parties, and other social events that did not go according to plan. This was the first time he had seen one go so horribly, catastrophically wrong. Worse, this was the first time he and his friends could find themselves implicated in the sorry mess.


    Mayhem reigned in the minutes after the corpse''s departure. People had become separated from their companions and screamed their names at the top of their lungs. A group of palace guards belatedly charged into the palace and attempted to regain order. Some of the party-goers stormed out of the building, looking so furious anyone would have thought the whole fiasco was a personal slight aimed at them.


    Abihira was nowhere to be seen. She had vanished somewhere in the midst of the crowd. If she had any sense she would get out of the palace quickly before anyone could think to ask awkward questions.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked around frantically for anyone he recognised. His mother had left him over an hour ago to talk to her friends and he hadn''t seen her since. Kitri had been somewhere near Abihira a while ago. Where she was now he had no idea. In the direction of the main doors he caught a glimpse of someone who might have been Kiriyuki. Trying to approach her would have meant fighting his way through the crowd. In despair Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked back towards the ballroom, praying he would spot at least one familiar face.


    He did. Ilaran was fairly easy to spot in any crowd; he was half a head taller than Abihira, who was herself taller than most people Ir¨ªm¨¦ knew, and he was wearing a very odd, very tall pointed headdress. For the first time Ir¨ªm¨¦ was thankful his co-conspirator had such a fondness for, ahem, eccentric clothes.


    Ilaran had apparently decided it wasn''t worth battling his way through a host of panicked people. Instead he was standing next to the wall, just outside the ballroom doors and away from the thickest crowds. His grim scowl suggested he had seen everything that happened and knew exactly who to blame for it.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ wound his way towards him, in the process narrowly avoiding a collision with several people who weren''t looking where they were going. His earlier murder-related disagreement with Ilaran faded into insignificance in the face of this more immediate problem. What he really needed right now was someone else who knew what was going on and might have some suggestions on what to do.


    He was thoroughly out of breath by the time he got with speaking distance. That dratted, absurdly long j¨®rnin[1] had nearly tripped him so many times he''d lost count. His headdress had been knocked askew and was now leaning precariously far over one side of his head. The long hairpins meant to hold it in place now tugged painfully on his hair. The gods alone knew what sort of sorry sight he made when he finally reached Ilaran.


    It dawned on Ir¨ªm¨¦ now that he hadn''t thought beforehand of what to say. So he said the first thing that came into his head.


    "Have you seen Abihira?"


    Ilaran nodded. His scowl became even more grim. "She left a while ago. Haliran followed her."


    Amidst all the chaos all thought of Haliran and her crimes had been driven out of Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mind. For a few seconds he wondered who that was and why just hearing the name made him shudder. Then he remembered. His eyes widened in horror.


    "What?"


    Under other circumstances such a loud yell would have drawn the attention of everyone within hearing range. As it was plenty of other people were shouting various things, ranging from the understandable like "Where are you?" to the absurd like "The world is ending!", and no one spared Ir¨ªm¨¦ a second glance.


    "Why didn''t you stop her?" he demanded in a quieter tone.


    "Three reasons. First, her parents went with her. Haliran generally doesn''t bother attacking someone who has friends with them to defend them. She''s too much of a coward to choose anyone who can fight back as a victim. Second, I''ve thought about it since I saw them and I still can''t see why Haliran would follow Abihira right now. She doesn''t know about her hobbies--" Ilaran carefully avoided mentioning necromancy or anything associated with it, "--and she has no grudge against Abihira specifically. There''s a chance it was just a coincidence they left so close together. Third, I can''t get through this damned crowd!"


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    The two of them turned and looked towards the main doors. Dozens of people were frantically trying to push their way through. The palace guards, for reasons unknown to anyone but themselves, were stopping the people who wanted to leave and were searching them for weapons. Apparently they''d got the completely wrong idea about what had happened and thought there had been a violent attack on someone. How they came to that conclusion when there were no injured victims seeking medical attention was a mystery. But then the palace guards had always been hopeless at dealing with non-murder-related crises. Tell them something unusual had happened to anyone loosely connected to the royal family and they''d immediately treat it as an attempted assassination.


    "How do we get out of here?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ wondered. "It''d take hours to get past those guards."


    Ilaran shrugged. "Are there any windows we can climb out of?"


    At first Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought he was joking. Then he saw the look on his face and realised he actually meant it. He pictured what would happen if they were caught climbing out of a window not long after a walking corpse invaded the palace. Everyone would assume they were the culprits making their escape.


    "That''s the worst idea I''ve heard in ages."


    "Really?" Ilaran asked dryly. "I think your dear fianc¨¦e has had a few worse ones."


    Unfortunately that was only too true. Their present predicament was all the evidence he needed of it.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked around the entrance hall and tried to remember what rooms lay behind those closed doors nearest to them. He had been in this palace only a handful of times over the last few centuries, and no one had ever given him a full tour. There was no need for him to tour the place. The Silver Palace was the main residence of the empress and emperor consort, the Grand Princess[2] and her husband on certain occasions, along with housing foreign dignitaries and meetings of politicians. He would never live here. Upon their marriage Abihira would be given her own palace -- or manor, which was more likely considering how low she was in the line of succession -- and Ir¨ªm¨¦ would live there. Usually he thought that was preferable to the size and grandeur of the Silver Palace. Now he wished he knew more about its layout.


    Hazarding a guess, he pointed to the closest closed door and said, "That''s probably a sitting room. We could climb out one of its windows without being seen."


    Ilaran gave him the sort of look a teacher would give a particularly dim pupil who''d just claimed two plus two made five. "That leads back into the ballroom."


    Oops.


    "On second thoughts," Ilaran continued thoughtfully, "the ballroom windows open out onto the west garden. We could get out that way. I don''t think they''ve put guards there yet."


    <hr>


    Crypts were always gloomy places. Their very nature made them eerie and unsettling to almost everyone. Going into a crypt at night was a thought that could make the bravest shudder. Going at midnight into a crypt that held a reanimated corpse would send a normal person running for the hills.


    It was just as well that Abihira was not even close to being a normal person. Death and corpses had been her near-constant companions since she was less than four hundred.


    Her family had just arrived in her father''s hometown for the yachinur[3] hunting season. Some strange commotion arose within minutes of them stepping out of the carriage. Abihira and Arafaren climbed onto the driver''s seat to get a good view of what was happening. They saw a blood-stained young man being carried on wooden planks out of the fields. His bearers laid him down on the courtyard ground and ran to get a doctor.


    "A riding accident," one of them told the children''s parents. "Tried to jump that hedge down by the river."


    Arafaren shuddered at the sight of the man lying in a pool of his own blood. He climbed down from the seat and ran to his mother. Abihira stayed where she was, unable to look away. She watched as the man''s breath grew shallower and shallower until finally it stopped altogether. Later she asked her parents what had happened to him.


    "He''s gone," her mother said.


    "But where?" Abihira wanted to know.


    An awkward silence as Hartanna tried to find an explanation that a child would understand. "He left because he was too badly injured."


    That had made no sense to her. "Has he gone to find someone who''ll make him better?"


    In vain her parents attempted to explain the concept of death, and that dead people could not be made better. Back then Abihira had remained stubbornly convinced someone could undo death if they wanted to. She still hadn''t changed her mind. Why would she, when recent events had proved her right?


    The corpse was waiting for her on the first level of the crypt. She was still dressed in those dreadfully muddy funeral clothes. Abihira looked at the dirty footprints on the stairs and winced. She''d have to clean those before the caretaker came along and asked awkward questions in the morning.


    Right now the reanimated corpse didn''t look threatening or even particularly intimidating. She stood as still as if she was just a statue decorating one of the tombs. Abihira stared at her thoughtfully. She didn''t stare back. It was hard to tell with her veil, but it looked as if she was gazing fixedly at the wall in front of her.


    Clearly she wasn''t much more intelligent than the skeletons Abihira had already reanimated. Yet she had enough awareness to follow her right into the palace. That suggested she was more than just a mindless zombie. So what was she? Could she actually think?


    "What''s your name?" Abihira asked.


    The corpse stayed silent.


    "How did you die?"


    Still no answer.


    "Raise your hand if you can understand me."


    Minutes ticked by. The corpse didn''t move. Abihira sighed. It seemed she was just another puppet incapable of thought after all.


    I must have done something wrong when I reanimated her, she thought. Maybe I told her to follow me without knowing it. I wonder--


    Abruptly all her thoughts stopped. Slowly, hesitantly, the corpse raised her hand.

 Chapter II: In the Crypt

    Mike said nothing, which was a good deal better than saying what he would have liked to have said. -- P. G. Wodehouse, Mike and Psmith


    Once again Abihira stared at the corpse. Once again she felt sure the corpse wasn''t actually staring at her. Never once did she turn her head to look at her. Now that she''d raised her hand she kept it up, as if she''d forgotten it lower it again.


    How very strange, Abihira thought. "Can you talk?"


    Silence. Perhaps this needed some more necromancy. She pictured a voice box -- she knew what one looked like from her experiments in dissecting fresh corpses back in Seroyawa -- and tried to imagine how it would work as someone spoke. That was something cutting open bodies hadn''t taught her. Any medical professional would have shook their heads in despair at the picture she conjured up. Then she gathered her magic and reached out with it towards the corpse.


    Speak, she ordered it.


    It opened its mouth. Then it closed it again. It repeated this over and over until it looked like nothing so much as one of Mirio''s pet fish. No sound came from its mouth. Abihira scratched her head. This necromancy business was turning out far more complicated than she''d expected.


    "Can you still understand me?" she asked.


    The corpse froze with its mouth still hanging open. Its veil, still covered in mud, had gotten stuck together so that it no longer covered all of its face. The left side of its face was almost completely bare, while the right side was still behind the veil. All things considered it was not a sight that would strike terror into anyone''s heart -- except perhaps someone with an intense dislike of mud. Slowly it nodded. If it was possible for a not-quite-sentient walking corpse to be wary of answering, that one was then. It was almost as if it knew it wouldn''t like whatever she said next.


    "Good. Now listen closely. There is a woman named Haliran--" Abihira stopped abruptly as she realised she didn''t know Haliran''s matronymic. "Er, Haliran-r¨²daun. She lives in Kastl¨¢n Manor."


    Never before had a corpse worn such an air of sheepish non-comprehension. None of Abihira''s creations were exactly alive, but all of them were capable of feeling and displaying emotion. Even the skeletons had managed to convey confusion and helplessness. It was very strange. Just how much did they understand of the world around them? Did they know they were dead? Perhaps they still had some memory of being alive. Or perhaps emotions somehow lingered after death. Whatever the reason, it needed investigation. Abihira made a mental note to look into that later.


    Now, where was she? Oh yes. Explaining where Haliran lived. It seemed she needed to give more thorough directions than just naming the house.


    "Do you know where Kastl¨¢n Manor is?"


    The corpse shook her head.


    "Ever heard of Ialimu Avenue?"


    The corpse continued to shake her head. It was hard to tell if she was answering the second question or hadn''t yet stopped answering the first one.


    Using necromancy as a weapon had sounded like such a good idea in the immediate aftermath of Haliran''s unwanted visit. Now that she was confronted with the actual drawbacks of such a scheme, Abihira had to admit it wasn''t quite as good an idea as it had seemed. Perhaps it would be easier if she was a more experienced necromancer. But she had to sort this out tonight, before Ilaran went to her grandmother when court opened tomorrow. She didn''t have time to practice.


    Giving the corpse directions would obviously not work. So there was only one possible course of action left open to her. She would have to lead the corpse directly to Haliran herself.


    Abihira looked askance at her creation. It was still shaking its head; more slowly now, like a clockwork toy that needed wound up again. Hardly the sort of thing she could trust to carry out a mission like this. Truth be told Abihira had no idea what she actually intended the corpse to do to Haliran. She didn''t mean to kill her because then how would Ilaran bring her to justice? But she meant to frighten her so badly that she wouldn''t dare say a word about necromancy to the empress. And there lay the problem. A corpse who needed ten minutes just to move or stop moving would hardly frighten anyone.


    No one liked having to face the unpleasant fact that they simply didn''t know what they were doing in spite of their protestations to the contrary. Abihira''s usual method of dealing with that fact was to ignore it and hope it would go away. This was one time when doing that would just lead to disaster for everyone.


    <hr>


    If someone had asked Ir¨ªm¨¦ a day ago how he expected to spend the early hours of the day after the festival, his answer would not have been "climbing out a window and running to Abi''s house while dodging guards like some sort of criminal".


    After all that he expected Abi would at least have the decency to be at home when he knocked on the door. Where else would she be at this time of the night? The servant who answered the door quickly disabused him of this notion.


    "Her Highness left half an hour ago," she said. She wasn''t the usual servant who opened the door. Her uniform and air of bewilderment suggested she was a kitchen maid unexpectedly handed someone else''s duties. Just as well for Ir¨ªm¨¦; the usual servant had been with the family for centuries and would have been very reluctant to answer questions about any of their whereabouts. No matter who the questioner was, or the reason for them asking.


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    "I don''t know where she''s gone," the maid continued. She winced at the very loud shouts from one of the rooms down the hall. It sounded like at least ten people were having a contest to see who could yell the loudest. "She seemed very angry. I think that visitor said something to upset her."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ had been about to thank her for her information and go back to Ilaran, who -- being a stranger to the family, and therefore unlikely to be granted entry at this hour -- was waiting at the gate. Her last sentence stopped him in his tracks. "Visitor? What visitor?"


    "One of the people who''d been at the party," the maid said, which hardly narrowed it down much. "Didn''t much like the look of her. Not the sort of person I''d ever want to play cards against." She suddenly blushed. "Er, not that I ever play cards, your Highness."


    ''Your Highness''? Just who does she think I am?


    On the bright side, if he''d been mistaken for one of Abihira''s many cousins it would prevent any of the nasty rumours that might start if word got out her fianc¨¦ had visited her house late at night. Almost everyone would take into consideration the extenuating circumstances of the fiasco at the party and would realise there was nothing untoward about it. But certain people would make a scandal out of anything. If the situation was less dire Ir¨ªm¨¦ would have waited until the morning to visit.


    He thanked the maid for her information and made some vague comment asking her to tell Abi he hoped she was all right. He was hardly aware of what he said, too preoccupied by worrying about the mysterious visitor. There was only one person he could think of who would have any reason to visit Abi at such a time. But what would Haliran want with her?


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ scurried out of the gate. He stopped abruptly. Where was Ilaran? He''d been here just a minute ago.


    A shadow detached itself from the darkness under the trees a short distance away. Ir¨ªm¨¦ started violently before he realised it was only Ilaran.


    "Where were you?" he asked, more sharply than he intended.


    "I thought about where she''s likely to go after this, so I went over to the crypt," Ilaran said. "There''s a light on in it. I expect that''s where she is."


    For a minute a horrible thought filled Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mind. What if Abi was reanimating every body in the crypt?


    "We''d better find her quickly. I think Haliran''s already been to see her."


    <hr>


    From the minute he saw the light in the crypt Ilaran imagined all sorts of horrible things happening down there. An incompetent necromancer was the last person who should ever be allowed near dead bodies. Nothing could have prepared him for the actual reality of what Abihira was doing. He''d pictured corpses crawling from their graves. He had not pictured Abihira ordering a very muddy corpse around as if she was a general and it was a not-very-promising soldier.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ saw it at almost the same moment Ilaran did. He stopped so abruptly that Ilaran had to grab hold of the staircase rail to avoid falling.


    "What are you doing?"


    It was a rather pointless question when the answer was so obvious. It was also exactly what Ilaran himself wanted to ask. This was no time for training zombies to turn left or right on command!


    Abihira blinked up at them as if she couldn''t see them clearly. Ir¨ªm¨¦ half-ran, half-jumped down the remaining stairs. Luckily for him he was already close to the bottom. Ilaran followed at a less breakneck speed.


    "Oh, it''s you two." From her tone anyone would have thought they were unexpected guests who''d just dropped by for tea. "I have... Er, that is... I''ve some bad news for you." She looked at Ilaran specifically. "Haliran knows about the necromancy."


    At first he didn''t realise he''d heard correctly. How could Haliran know when she hadn''t been there? It was impossible.


    "Somehow she knows this," Abihira gestured to the corpse, which was now standing in front of one of the tombs, "is a reanimated corpse, and she''s figured out I''m responsible. I think she''s a telepath."


    If Haliran was a telepath the entire empire would know about it by now.


    "That can''t be right," Ilaran said. "Siarvin would have told me if she was." Not to mention Shizuki would never have been able to meet him.


    "Then how does she know so much?"


    That unfortunately was a question he couldn''t answer.


    Abihira continued without waiting for a response. "She wants me to do anything she tells me, and never to mention the ghosts. So if you go to Grandmother, she''ll tell everyone about my research."


    Blackmail was exactly the sort of scheme Haliran would come up with. It was also the sort of scheme Ilaran had dealt with many times in Tananerl. It was fairly popular among a certain group of journalists to dredge up something embarrassing in the past of any prominent public figure they didn''t like. Over the years hundreds of people came to him with complaints they were or they knew someone who was being blackmailed. In the vast majority of cases the best solution was the simplest one.


    "What evidence does she have?"


    Abihira and Ir¨ªm¨¦ both stared at him.


    "Evidence?" Abihira repeated, sounding as if she''d never heard the word before.


    "Did she personally witness you raising the dead? Did she force you to sign a written declaration about it?"


    Now both of them were looking at him as if he''d lost his mind.


    "Of course not," Abihira said.


    "What has this got to do with anything?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked.


    "Then she has no proof."


    Abihira frowned. "I don''t see--"


    Ilaran interrupted her before he lost his train of thought. "She claims a walking corpse interrupted the festival. Very well then, the empress will say, show me the corpse. Obviously she can''t. The next question would be, Are you certain it was a corpse? Haliran will be in a predicament. If she insists it was one, she''ll have to explain how she''s so certain and why it didn''t act like any of the other reanimated dead in the records. If she claims you raised it, with no evidence to support any of her story, she''ll be laughed out of the palace."


    Understanding dawned in Abihira''s eyes. Ir¨ªm¨¦ continued to look unconvinced.


    "But didn''t you plan to use the ghosts'' testimony in the case? That will just prove her story."


    "It would," Ilaran agreed, "so we won''t use it. We have enough evidence without it."


    Abihira looked over at the corpse. It hadn''t moved an inch in all the time they''d been talking. "Then what will I do with her? You don''t know Grandmother. She''ll order a search for the corpse just to make sure it''s not true."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ suggested, "Bury her again."


    Ilaran nodded. The corpse herself said nothing.


    "All right," Abihira said. "We''d better do it quickly, before your mother comes looking for you."


    The last part was directed at Ir¨ªm¨¦. He smiled sourly. "I''d have to be a rare animal for my mother to ever come looking for me."


    There was a great deal of barely-concealed bitterness and anger in those words. Ilaran stared. In their short acquaintance he hadn''t realised Ir¨ªm¨¦ was capable of so much venom.


    Oh well. He was no stranger to unhappy, dysfunctional families. Whatever bad blood there was between Ir¨ªm¨¦ and his mother, it would have no effect on the case. So it was none of his business.

 Chapter III: Father and Son

    It is a good rule in life never to apologize. The right sort of people do not want apologies, and the wrong sort take a mean advantage of them. -- P. G. Wodehouse, The Man Upstairs and Other Stories


    On the day of the festival Shizuki remained blissfully unaware of the dramatic events unfolding in other parts of the capital. He had his own equally dramatic events to contend with, even if they were slightly less likely to result in violence. For the first time in his life he had the opportunity to speak to his biological father.


    It was very strange how someone could hope for something for years then discover once they got it that it really wasn''t that important to them after all. Shizuki had wondered all his life what his father was like. Now that he had the chance to meet him, he found he was reluctant to find out.


    After Ilaran told him about Koyuki''s arrival Shizuki went to Siarvin for advice. If anyone would know what to do in a situation like this, surely it would be Siarvin. Like most children Shizuki couldn''t quite comprehend the idea of their parent -- even if, as in this case, they weren''t actually related -- being faced with anything they didn''t know how to handle. Yes, Shizuki knew that Siarvin could be wrong sometimes. He wasn''t aware of the full details of how his father had ended up married to someone as vile as Haliran. All he knew was that somehow she''d tricked him. Even so he was used to thinking of Siarvin as someone who could do almost anything he wanted to. So of course he would know the best course of action.


    Siarvin just looked confused when he heard Shizuki''s -- admittedly not easy to explain -- worries. "But I thought you wanted to meet your real father."


    You''re my real father, Shizuki wanted to say. This Koyuki person, whoever he was, could never really be his father. He was a stranger who happened to share Shizuki''s blood. He hadn''t protected him from Haliran or raised him for five hundred years. Siarvin had, so as far as he was concerned Siarvin was his real father.


    But how could he put all that into words? It barely made any sense to him when he tried to sort it out in his mind.


    "I do want to meet him," he said slowly, "but I... I''m scared."


    Until that moment he hadn''t fully realised it was fear that made him so uncertain about this meeting.


    Siarvin nodded silently. He didn''t ask why Shizuki was scared. Which was just as well, because Shizuki couldn''t possibly have explained it. "You don''t have to meet him, you know. At least not yet. You can wait until you''re older."


    That wasn''t quite as comforting as he meant it to be. Shizuki, like most children, had heard variants of "wait until you''re older" or "you can do this when you''re older" far too many times to like hearing it again. Usually it was the excuse adults used to get out of awkward situations, like that time Shizuki spent a whole month trying to make the head cook give him dessert before dinner. He recognised that this wasn''t exactly the same use of the phrase, but he still disliked hearing it.


    "I''m going to see him," he announced with the determination of someone who''d change their mind if they gave themselves a minute to think about it.


    Siarvin looked worried. He opened his mouth to say something, but Shizuki left before hearing whatever it was he meant to say.


    <hr>


    The city was a mass of people. A small boy would never have been able to get through the streets. Luckily Shizuki''s snake form could sense where large groups of people were, and he instinctively avoided them.


    On any other day a snake would never have been able to get into a hotel without being spotted. People tended to have strong opinions about reptiles in their rooms, and in the capital at least a hotel''s security was usually the most stringent outside of a bank''s or the palaces''.


    Shizuki couldn''t fathom why. It wasn''t as if there was anything really important in hotels; only a crowd of rude, noisy tourists. They hardly needed to be guarded. It was just yet another of the oddities of how adults'' minds worked.


    When he slithered through the gaps in the hotel fence he expected an alarm to sound. When he slipped through the open kitchen window he expected an outburst of screams and panic. Nothing happened. The kitchen was empty. He tasted the air to make sure no one was hidden behind a corner somewhere. If he''d been in his immortal form he would have pouted. The cooks were gone, and they didn''t even have the decency to leave food lying around on a convenient worktop.


    He shapeshifted back into a young boy to open the kitchen door. After a minute''s thought he stayed in that form as he crept upstairs. A boy would cause less panic than a snake.


    Even in this form he could sense other people''s presence from a good distance away. It wasn''t quite smelling them and it was very little like hearing them. He couldn''t explain how it worked, but he''d been able to do it all his life. That was one of the most useful things he''d inherited from his biological father. Normally he used it to keep an eye on where Haliran was without having to be in the same building as her. Today he used it for tracking down Koyuki. There were a few other guests in the hotel, but most of them "smelled" like normal immortals. He instinctively recognised which of them was a fellow snake spirit and followed that "scent".


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    This led him to a door at the end of a hallway at the very back of the hotel. It was one of the most out-of-the-way places in the whole building. Shizuki darted his tongue out make sure his senses hadn''t led him astray. One of the more unsettling -- for other people -- parts of his heritage was that he still kept snake-like behaviours while in his immortal form. That included a forked tongue which he could and did use to taste the air just like a real snake.


    What he sensed confirmed what he had already thought: another snake spirit was in the room behind this door.


    Now that he was here he wanted nothing more than to run away. Instead he slowly raised his hand. Before his courage could desert him he rapped sharply on the door. It swung open so quickly that the room''s occupant could only have been waiting to open it.


    That might have alarmed Shizuki more if he wasn''t so taken aback by the man''s appearance. This couldn''t be his father! Why, he was at least a millennia younger[1] than Ilaran! And he looked... well, normal. Shizuki had always expected his biological father to look as distinctly snake-like as he himself did. Logically he knew shapeshifters like him eventually learnt to look fully immortal without any animal traits. Siarvin had told him once that both he and Ilaran were eagle immortals, yet neither of them had feathers in their everyday appearances. There should have been nothing surprising about this man''s lack of scales, yet somehow Shizuki felt disappointed and bewildered.


    Silence reigned for several long, uncomfortable moments. At last the man spoke. "Are you... Shizuki? Is that you?"


    No, Saoridhl¨¦m is full of half-snake spirits. I''m a random stranger who decided to visit, Shizuki thought. He stopped himself before actually saying it. Instead he nodded mutely. What was there to say? How was he supposed to act in a situation like this?


    There was another long and awkward silence. Shizuki broke it this time. "Are you Mr. Koyuki?"


    In hindsight perhaps he should have used a less formal form of address. But Ilaran hadn''t told him what Koyuki''s surname was, and it seemed rude to only use his first name.


    When Koyuki nodded Shizuki said, "I thought you were older."


    His father (what a very strange thought) winced. "Er, yes. I suppose you would think that."


    Years of life in Haliran''s house had taught Shizuki how to tell when he was skirting dangerously close to an unpleasant topic. He couldn''t quite see how his biological father''s age was one of the things to avoid, but he wasn''t going to ask.


    "Come in," Koyuki said, apparently only just realising they were still standing at the door. Adults. Shizuki had been well aware of that the whole time, and had been starting to wonder if his father intended to let him in at all. "I suppose you''ve started school now?"


    Shizuki shook his head. "Father teaches me at home." He realised that might sound tactless given the present company and amended it to, "My adopted father."


    An odd look, somewhere between guilty and embarrassed, crossed Koyuki''s face. "...That''s good," he said, obviously more for the sake of saying something than because he wanted to answer. "You''ve never been to Seroyawa, have you?"


    Shizuki shook his head. "Haliran won''t let me leave the house."


    He left out the fact he never paid any attention to what she wanted. Him being here at all showed that. Koyuki scowled.


    "I see she hasn''t changed," he said with surprising bitterness. Shizuki had always assumed he had worked for Haliran willingly. "Has she ever tried to harm you?"


    This would probably not be a good time to say she had once planned to kill him. "Father stops her."


    There was that strange look again. Every word of this conversation seemed to stray close to dangerous territory. In an attempt to find something safer to talk about, Shizuki said, "What''s Seroyawa like?"


    Finally, a subject that wouldn''t involve dodging things that mustn''t be spoken about or even mentioned. Koyuki happily answered Shizuki''s questions about his home, his village, and his job as a librarian. The rest of the visit passed much less stressfully than Shizuki had expected.


    <hr>


    It was late afternoon when Shizuki left. He had some errands to run for one of his half-sisters before returning home. It took him almost three hours to find a shop that wasn''t closed for the festival and still had some of her favourite moyin[2] sweets. By the time he got home it was night. Most people were at their chosen place to watch the comets. Why they bothered was a mystery. Shizuki could see the flashes of light darting through the sky without having to fight dozens of other people over a seat on a roof.


    Haliran was supposed to still be at the palace. Shizuki''s half-siblings were at their friends'' houses. Only Siarvin and the servants should be at home. That was why it was such a horrible shock when he rounded the street corner and saw Haliran walk out of the manor gates.


    Shizuki shifted back into his snake form and flung himself under the hedge beside the pavement. He lay there until he was sure Haliran wasn''t coming his way. He raised his head to watch her leave. Strange. She was heading back towards the palace. He knew she''d already been there. Why had she come back?


    He slithered along until he reached the metal fence separating his mother''s manor from the street. In a trice he dived between the bars and raced towards Siarvin''s house.


    He found Siarvin sorting through documents he''d "borrowed" from Haliran''s records over the years. The grim look on his face and the way his hands shook showed something had gone wrong somewhere.


    Shizuki changed back into his normal appearance. When he was with Koyuki he''d used his non-snake-like immortal form. He''d needed to be understood then, even though it gave him a headache and left him feeling tired. Now he had no need of that form and went back to his default appearance. Siarvin could understand him even with his fangs and forked tongue.


    "I saw her now," he said, knowing there was no need to say who he meant.


    His father nodded. "Something happened at the palace. She was gloating about blackmailing Princess Abihira."


    It took Shizuki a minute to make the connection. "So Ilaran can''t report her?"


    "He can," Siarvin said grimly, "but now Haliran can force Abihira to give false evidence in her favour."

 Chapter IV: Ir铆m茅 Has an Idea

    Never attempt to win by force what can be won by deception. -- Niccol¨° Machiavelli


    This night was full of nothing but things Ir¨ªm¨¦ never expected to do. Now he could add yet another one to the list: hiding a reanimated corpse in someone else''s tomb. Even stranger, it was an empty tomb. In fact it was little more than a stone coffin placed against the wall with a name and date carved on it. Obviously it wasn''t meant to be opened. Yet Ilaran was pressing at different parts of the lid as if he expected it to open.


    In the background Abihira was busy talking to the corpse. Well, she said she was trying to tell how much awareness it actually had. To all intents and purposes it just looked like she was having a very one-sided conversation with it. There were times -- which were increasingly frequent nowadays -- when Ir¨ªm¨¦ seriously doubted her sanity. For the sake of his own he tried to ignore her.


    "What are you doing?" he asked Ilaran.


    "Magic." That hardly answered his question. "I''m separating the lid from the rest of the coffin so we can open it."


    Oh. That was actually a good idea. Ir¨ªm¨¦ briefly got distracted by wondering what sort of magic he was using. Would a spell for cutting or one for breaking be more suitable for this work? No wonder it was taking so long. Obviously he had to work slowly so he didn''t damage the stone too badly. Only magicians who had studied special branches of magic in depth would be able to piece the coffin back together if he, say, cut its side in two. Or worse, damaged the crypt wall. How in the world would they ever be able to explain that?


    He took a step back and stayed quiet for several minutes. It wouldn''t do to distract Ilaran when the consequences could be so dire. To pass the time he read the inscriptions on the tombs nearby. Some of them were the graves of immediately-recognisable historical figures. Everyone had heard of Empress Nulrunan[1]. Everyone had also heard of Empress Mirutam[2], for all the wrong reasons. At first Ir¨ªm¨¦ was surprised to see a memorial to her in the crypt at all. Then he saw the inscription under her name: "Tyrant, lunatic, kinslayer. A shining example of what we should never be." That was a surprisingly mild inscription for a woman who beheaded her own mother within months of taking the throne, to say nothing of everything else she did later.


    A little further away were the graves of much saner, vastly more respected royals. Suarol the Peacemaker, Abihira VI, Josir the Great, Prince Yuast¨²l the Wise, Gilnreith II... He looked back at the tomb Ilaran was still working at. The name on it was unfamiliar. Who was Princess Aderthril? And why was her memorial here, among those of the famous or infamous?


    Abihira -- the present-day Abihira, not one of her long-dead relatives who shared her name -- was still busy talking to that corpse. Now it seemed to be replying. It was waving its arms around like a ghoulish scarecrow, at any rate. Ir¨ªm¨¦ resolutely refused to think about it. There was a limit to how much insanity he could tolerate before going mad, and he was getting very close to that limit.


    The date of death on the memorial was only twenty thousand years ago. As a way of ignoring the corpse Ir¨ªm¨¦ focused on that with more intensity than something so trivial warranted. If Princess Aderthril had done anything notable people would still talk about her. Her memorial must have been put in this section of the crypt as a mistake.


    "I hope her family don''t mind us meddling with her tomb," he said aloud.


    "Whose family?" Ilaran asked, getting up from where he had been kneeling on the floor.


    "Princess Aderthril''s."


    Ilaran gave him a very odd look. It was somewhere between bemused and mildly offended. "She was my mother. And I doubt she minds anything now."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ blinked. Somehow he had taken it for granted that Ilaran''s parents were still alive. Yes, he was older than either Ir¨ªm¨¦ or Abihira, but still nowhere near old enough for one of his parents to have died naturally.


    Wait a minute. The royal crypt didn''t put up memorials to foreigners. Yet everyone knew the ruling families of Tananerl weren''t part of the House of Sinistrah. He spent several minutes trying to figure that out before the perfectly logical solution of a marriage between two different royal families presented itself.


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    That still didn''t explain why Aderthril''s memorial was in this part of the crypt. What had she done that was so memorable?


    He was about to ask Ilaran when Abihira yelled. Ir¨ªm¨¦ spun round, fearing for a minute the corpse had attacked her. Instead he saw it lying on the floor in front of her. Abihira stared down at it with the gobsmacked expression of someone who didn''t know what had just happened.


    "She collapsed," she said, rubbing her eyes as if she couldn''t believe it. "I tried to get her to speak again, and she just collapsed!"


    Perhaps she''s tired of answering your questions, Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought.


    Ilaran said sarcastically, "I expect she''s asleep. Now help me move this."


    Abihira stepped gingerly around the body and joined them at the coffin. The three of them slowly and carefully pushed the lid away until there was just enough room for the corpse to fit in through it. The stone made a terrible noise as it scraped over the floor. Luckily no one was around to hear so late at night -- or so early in the morning. Even more luckily the builders had left the coffin hollow, or all that work would have been for nothing.


    The body was still lying on the floor as if it was an ordinary corpse. If only it had been so lifeless after they reburied it in the graveyard!


    "Get up," Abihira ordered.


    To Ir¨ªm¨¦''s astonishment it got up at once. Its movements were now much stiffer. Abihira frowned and moved forward for a closer look.


    "Odd. Rigor mortis has set in again." She shook her head, looking bemused. "I suppose there must be a time limit on how long it can be reanimated. With more research--"


    Ilaran interrupted before she could start a lecture. "You can research it after we deal with Haliran. We can''t afford to let it go wandering around the city again."


    Even Abihira had to acknowledge the logic in that. "Help me move her. I don''t think she can walk any more."


    It took them ten minutes of struggling to get her into the coffin. Dead bodies were surprisingly hard to move. Especially ones with limbs that stubbornly refused to move. Abi had to resort to tying its hand to its waist with her hair ribbon. Otherwise they would have had to close the lid on top of its hand.


    When the lid was finally closed, and when they''d checked to make sure no casual observer would see any sign it had been moved, they sat down on the nearest graves to catch their breath.


    "I have an idea," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said after a minute''s silence. "Haliran will report the corpse even though she has no evidence, won''t she?"


    Ilaran nodded, looking as if he didn''t like where this was going. "She''d be a fool if she didn''t. It would make her blackmail attempt a waste of time."


    "So what if someone else confesses to disturbing the festival before she reports it?"


    Both of them looked blank. Clearly this would require a more thorough explanation. That was more of a challenge than it sounded. Ir¨ªm¨¦ was at that unpleasant point of tiredness when he knew he was exhausted yet he didn''t feel at all sleepy. His idea made sense in his head, but he had a nasty feeling his partners in crime would disagree.


    "I''ll go to the empress in the morning. I''ll go right now, actually. And I''ll tell her that--" he gestured towards the coffin, "is one of my friends who agreed to help me win a bet. I''ll say my imaginary friend misunderstood what the bet was about -- no, I don''t know what I''ll say it was about. I haven''t thought that far ahead yet. And she had an accident with, oh, I don''t know. Fell in a mud puddle or something. She turned up looking like a corpse. I''ll apologise and say it was a stupid bet and pretend I was drunk when I thought of it."


    "You don''t drink," Abihira objected.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ shrugged. That hardly seemed an important detail right now. "Does your grandmother know that?"


    "Yes. She''s very particular about what sort of people her family marry. Potential drunkards haven''t a chance. I think she has spies keeping an eye on all her grandchildren''s betrotheds."


    That was a strange thought. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had a vague feeling he would find it deeply disturbing when he was more awake.


    "Then I''ll say someone talked me into drinking for the first time and I''ll never do it again. The point is..." He paused to get his thoughts in order. "If I take the blame for what happened, and if I say it was an immortal in a costume, no one will pay any attention to Haliran. They''ll think she''s lying to protect herself."


    Silence fell as all of them considered this.


    "It''s plausible," Ilaran said at last. "And it will stop all the gossip. Especially if you do go now. You can convincingly claim you''re feeling so guilty you can''t sleep."


    "Speaking of not sleeping," Abi said, "does anyone know what time it is?"


    No one had a watch. All of them knew it was far too late for any sane person to be awake.


    "Grandmother won''t be happy if you wake her up." Abi sounded suspiciously pleased about that. "I''d better go home. My parents are probably still arguing. If I go in through the side pantry I can get upstairs without being seen."


    <hr>


    Abi ran out of the crypt. Ir¨ªm¨¦ followed more slowly. Ilaran came last, stopping to turn off the lights and lock the gate behind them. By the time they reached the main road Abi had disappeared. No commotion arose from her house, so Ir¨ªm¨¦ assumed she hadn''t been caught. Not a sound could be heard from any of the palaces nearby. It was somehow more eerie than the silence of the crypt.


    Ilaran turned to the right, towards the palace set aside for visiting guests. Ir¨ªm¨¦ took a deep breath and set off in the opposite direction, towards the Silver Palace itself.

 Chapter V: Confession

    ...the still night drifted deep


    Like snow about me, and I longed for sleep.


    -- Edna St. Vincent Millay, The Suicide


    There were three things Ir¨ªm¨¦ knew about Empress Raiv¨ªth. One, she took a very dim view of people who disturbed the peace. Two, she took an equally dim view of ill-advised plots. Everyone remembered the time Abihira had been caught in the forbidden archives. They''d all expected that because she was a princess the archivists wouldn''t press charges. Even if they did the judge would let her off with just a slap on the wrist. But then the empress got involved. She looked at the facts, listened to Abi''s terrible explanation, then gave her the full fine anyone else would have faced and ordered her to work in the kitchens of the Silver Palace for a week.


    Three, and as a direct result of one and two, she would not be pleased with Ir¨ªm¨¦''s story.


    At this time of night most of the city was silent. The meteor shower was over. The crowds who had gathered to watch it had now dispersed and gone back to their homes. Only in a few corners of the city were people still awake. Those people, the ones who frequented pubs and parties long after all sane people were asleep, were usually found on the opposite side of the city. Here, amidst the royal palaces, there wasn''t a sound to be heard or a light to be seen over any of the fences and walls. Even the street-lamps burned with a pale and wan light, as if they knew how late it was and were sleepy too.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ rubbed his eyes. He didn''t feel tired as such, but they were uncomfortably heavy. It was a struggle to keep them open as he made his way towards the Silver Palace. At any other time he would have been terrified by the thought of where he was going and who he would soon face. Right now he hardly felt anything at all. The only thing that bothered him was how cold it was. His highly impractical clothes for the festival had not been made to keep their wearer warm. A stupid oversight, really, when the main part of the festival only started at night.


    He distracted himself with mentally composing letters of complaint to the tailors for the rest of the trip. At last he found himself outside the Silver Palace''s main gates. The guards were clearly taking their duties more seriously now than they had earlier. Four were stationed at the gates, two on each side, while flickers of light moving around the driveway showed where other guards were patrolling the place with torches.


    The guards at the gate eyed him suspiciously. Ir¨ªm¨¦ could just imagine what he must look like. He was mildly surprised they didn''t arrest him on the spot for being there at all.


    "Who are you and what do you want?" one of them demanded gruffly. She placed her hand on the hilt of her sword in a transparent attempt to intimidate him.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked at her apathetically. It would take a lot more than her to frighten him after everything he''d already seen tonight. "I''m Ir¨ªm¨¦ Yedrethussilru of Neleth Ancalen. I have to see the empress."


    Abihira''s betrothal and the identity of her fianc¨¦ were hardly secrets. He expected the guard would put two and two together and figure out who he was.


    In hindsight it was a foolish thought. There were so many royals, nobles, hangers-on, and pretenders that no guard could know all of them. She gave him an incredulous look.


    "You expect us to let you see the empress at this time of the night? Get out of here!"


    Under more normal circumstances he would have obeyed. As it was he had just endured the most stressful night of his life. Haliran would report Abihira in the morning. All hell would break loose unless he got to the empress with his version of the story first.


    He didn''t move. "I''m her granddaughter''s fianc¨¦. You have to let me see her. It''s about what happened this evening."


    All four of the guards looked at each other. Perhaps they were capable of telepathically communicating. Maybe they were just exchanging looks of the "can you believe this idiot?" variety. At last they turned back to Ir¨ªm¨¦.


    "What do you want to tell her?" asked one of the guards on the opposite side of the gate.


    "That I''m responsible for it."


    Once again the four of them gazed helplessly at their co-workers. Ir¨ªm¨¦ distinctly heard the one who''d spoken last say in a loud whisper, "Do you think he''s mad?" He received a summary thump on the head from the guard beside him for his trouble.


    The first guard turned to the one stationed with her on the left side of the gates. "Go and call the captain."


    Instead of leaving the other guard said, "Do you think he''ll know what to do? Shouldn''t I tell the seneschal?"


    "She''s bound to be asleep," the first guard said. "The captain can wake her if he has to."


    The second guard opened the gate just enough to get through. She disappeared into the gloom beyond the small circle of light cast by the streetlamps. Ir¨ªm¨¦ and the other guards waited. And waited. And waited. Eventually she returned with the captain of guard in tow. He listened to Ir¨ªm¨¦''s story with the expression of someone who didn''t believe it but didn''t know what to do.


    "I was ordered to follow every lead," he said, apparently to himself, when Ir¨ªm¨¦ finished. "All right, young man. Come with me and we''ll see if some of the council members think your story''s worth disturbing her Majesty at this time. Though I doubt if they''ll be happy to be woken in the middle of the night."


    <hr>


    It had been centuries since Abihira lived in her parents'' palace. The last month hadn''t given her enough time to get used to it again. Certainly she hadn''t yet found all the best ways to get in and out. When she said she would go through the pantry she was relying on vague memories of using it as an entrance many years ago. She expected to find it empty. And indeed it was. The problem was that it had only two doors. One opened onto the kitchen garden and was meant to be a convenient way to take spoilt food to the compost heap. The other opened out into the kitchen itself. The kitchen which was full of servants setting out food for tomorrow''s breakfast.


    Abi stepped into the pantry, heard loud voices and the clatter of dishes outside the door in front of her, and quickly revised her plan. She turned and walked out of the pantry again. In the dark she didn''t dare risk running in case she bumped into something and made a noise. She walked slowly and carefully over to the doors leading down into the coal cellar. Those doors were rarely locked, because who would ever try to get in that way? They''d trip over coal and make a tremendous racket within minutes.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    She opened the doors and peered in. The moonlight fell on a tall silver bucket sitting at the top of the slope leading down to the coal. Carefully she picked it up. That bucket was used to carry coal from the cellar to the kitchen. But the children who grew up in the palace had long ago discovered it had another use. It was light enough for them to carry and so tall that they could stand on it to pick fruit from branches out of their reach. An adult who stood on it would have no trouble climbing in a window. The downstairs bathroom window, for example.


    Questions might be asked about where the bucket had gone. Still, it was summer. Late summer, but not cold enough yet to need fires in every room. In all likelihood the bucket wouldn''t be needed until dinnertime. Abi could replace it before then.


    The downstairs bathroom window had a broken latch. Abi stood on the bucket, pulled the window open, and climbed in through it.


    Someone should fix that before a burglar discovers it, she thought.


    Amazingly her parents had stopped arguing. The house was as silent as a grave. She ran upstairs and tiptoed towards her room. With luck she could get there without disturbing anyone, then in the morning claim she''d gone for a walk in the grounds if someone had noticed her absence.


    Luck was against her. She turned the corner toward her room and came face to face with Arafaren dozing in an armchair. He couldn''t have been deeply asleep. Her startled gasp woke him at once. For a minute the two of them stared at each other in silence.


    "Where were you?" Arafaren whispered.


    Might as well try her excuse now. "Out for a walk."


    Going by his disbelieving expression, her excuse hadn''t worked. "Don''t take me for a fool. I know you ran off after that strange old woman came to see you." Abi would never have considered Haliran ''old'', and ''strange'' was a very mild way to put it. "And you had something to do with what happened at the party. I saw your reaction."


    That was the trouble of having an incorrigible prankster for a brother. He noticed signs of guilt that no one else would ever notice.


    Abi searched for something that would satisfy him. She fell back on Ir¨ªm¨¦''s excuse. "It''s a long story. Ir¨ªm¨¦ made a stupid bet. I''ll tell you more in the morning."


    Arafaren continued to look unconvinced. "Why was that girl wearing funeral clothes? And if Ir¨ªme was responsible, why did you look more frightened than he did? Don''t think I''ve forgotten that strange letter Mirio sent me."


    Damn you, Mirio, Abi thought with more viciousness than she''d ever felt towards her foster brother before. "I''ll explain tomorrow. Now if you don''t mind, I''m going to bed."


    She strode past him with her best attempt at a careless air. She felt him staring suspiciously at her all the way to her bedroom. Brothers. They were an infernal nuisance, whether they were blood relatives or not.


    <hr>


    Late nights were nothing new to Ilaran. Nor was staying up late under less than optimal circumstances. This wasn''t even the first time he''d stayed in a graveyard until the early hours of the morning. When you were the ruling prince of an entire province full of very colourful personalities you got used to all sorts of improbable situations. At least this time he hadn''t had to dig up and dissect bodies to investigate claims of cannibalism. That was something he would much rather never do again. Especially as the claims had turned out to be true. Therefore of the three who had been in the crypt he was the most alert when he returned home.


    The palace set aside for royal guests had many doors that led only to the rooms occupied by a specific group. None of these rooms were connected with each other -- a seemingly myopic architectural decision that made sense when one considered the high possibility of envoys from enemy nations staying there at the same time. Reportedly a princess of Western Liang and a ?a?an[1] of Osne?ip had been given quarters in the palace at the same time, while Osne?ip was busy invading Western Liang. The monumental stupidity on the part of the official who made that decision led to a bloodbath when the envoys encountered each other in the palace. After that the palace was rebuilt into its current form.


    One of the benefits of this set-up was that people could get into their own rooms without disturbing anyone else or answering any questions on where they''d been. Ilaran unlocked his door, locked it again behind him, and no one was any the wiser he hadn''t been there all night.


    He took off his coat and hung it up on the hooks behind the door. Then he turned towards his bedroom. A flicker of light in the sitting room caught his eye. Strange. Before he left he took the time to check all the gas lamps were off. Leaving them on was just a waste of fuel. He opened the door just enough to see through, taking care not to let it squeak.


    The fire blazed merrily in the hearth even though the chill of autumn hadn''t set in yet. A snake lay curled up in front of it.


    Ilaran pushed the door open fully. "Shizuki, what are you doing here?"


    If it was possible for snakes to blink sleepily at someone, Shizuki did then. He switched back into his immortal form. Yawning, he said, "Father sent me to stay here. Said it wouldn''t be safe near Haliran tomorrow."


    That was logical enough. It would have been nice if Siarvin had sent him advance warning, though. He could have got an extra bed ready. Now he''d have to give Shizuki the bed and sleep on the settee.


    Shizuki yawned again. "Oh, and she''s blackmailing the necromancer."


    "I know," Ilaran said. "We''ve already thought of how to deal with that."


    "Tha''s gooooood." Shizuki shifted back into his snake form as he spoke, which had a very strange effect on his words.


    He curled up again and closed his eyes. Ilaran hadn''t realised he had eyelids to close when he was a snake.


    "Are you going to sleep there tonight?"


    Shizuki nodded without opening his eyes. Well, that solved the question of the bed.


    "Good night," Ilaran said. In reply he received a faint hiss that sounded vaguely like "Night".


    <hr>


    Eventually someone at the palace decided Ir¨ªm¨¦''s story was worth waking the empress. By then he was so tired that he had reached the stage of being willing to do anything just to finally get some sleep. To his own surprise that included looking the Empress of Saoridhl¨¦m, his fianc¨¦e''s grandmother, one of the most powerful women on the planet, in the eye and reciting his excuse without any real fear. Of course he faked mortification and shame. Quite well if he did say so himself. When you grew up with relatives who continued to treat you like a toddler long after you were old enough to think for yourself, and when your mother thought of you as little more than a pretty doll without any personality of your own, you learnt how to play a part convincingly.


    Sometimes he wondered if he could pursue a career on the stage. If he ever got the courage to finish and publish one of his stories, perhaps he would even consider trying it.


    Mother probably hasn''t even noticed I''m missing, he thought bitterly.


    He quickly chased that thought and all similar ones out of his mind. This was one time when he urgently needed to focus on what was happening in front of him.


    The empress frowned at him with all the displeasure of an adult awoken in the middle of the night because of a teenager''s shenanigans. "I hope you know your behaviour this evening was disgraceful. You''ve caused a panic, disrupted an important event, and caused the police to go on a wild goose chase, all over a childish prank!"


    "I know, your Majesty," he said meekly.


    "If it ever happens again I will forbid you marrying my granddaughter. Heavens above, I have enough imbeciles in my own family without bringing in more!"


    "I''ll never do anything so foolish again, your Majesty," Ir¨ªm¨¦ promised.


    "Good." She glared at him for several minutes, presumably just to make sure he took her seriously. "Now go home."


    He bowed and fled before she changed her mind and continued to lecture him. That hadn''t gone nearly as badly as he expected. Maybe she was too tired to be properly angry. All the same, he should try to stay out of her sight tomorrow. She might become suspicious if she saw him in court at the same time as Haliran claimed his supposed prank was actually a walking corpse.

 Chapter VI: The Calm Before the Storm

    Someone could call themselves a hero and still walk around killing dozens. Someone else could be labelled a villain for trying to stop them. Plenty of humans were monstrous, and plenty of monsters knew how to play at being human. -- Victoria Schwab, Vicious


    The stone floor was abnormally cold. She could feel its chill through the soles of her boots. In front of her stood the coffin. She reached out and grasped the lid. For some reason it wasn''t cold. It was so warm it almost felt like a living thing. She pulled and pulled at the lid. It slid open slowly. It almost seemed to move independently of her, opening further when she wasn''t pulling it. At last it leaned against the wall. The body in the coffin stood motionless before her.


    All the mud had disappeared from its clothes. They were back to their original blood red colour, even more vivid than she remembered. Its veil was more opaque than before. That was odd. Funeral veils were supposed to be transparent enough for you to see the person''s face. A cold breeze whistled through the graveyard. It tugged at the edges of the veil.


    The veil slipped off the corpse''s head. It happened so quickly she hardly had time to realise it was happening at all. Her own face stared back at her.


    Abihira jolted awake with a strangled yelp. For a minute she blinked up at her ceiling. Where was the corpse? Why was it so bright?


    Gradually her mind woke up fully and she realised where she was. She was safe in her own bedroom. The corpse was safe inside the coffin. It was still early morning. The bell summoning everyone to breakfast hadn''t sounded yet. It would have wakened her if it had.


    Her sleep had been restless and far too short, full of the sort of dreams that made you reluctant to go back to sleep. Dreams of things with too many teeth, of being buried alive, of bodiless eyes staring at her out of graves. Her most recent dream hadn''t even been the most disturbing of them all. She rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn. No point in going back to sleep.


    In a few hours Ilaran would report Haliran to her grandmother. In a few hours Haliran would reveal Abihira''s necromancy to the entire court.


    That thought made her sit up straight. Suddenly horror-struck, she looked around wildly for the clock. In Seroyawa there had always been a clock on her bedside table. She stared blankly at the space where it should be. Then her mind overtook her alarm and she remembered she was in Saoridhl¨¦m. Here her clock was on the writing desk on the other side of the room. A very inconvenient arrangement; she had to get out of bed and walk over to see what time it was. That was probably why it had been put there in the first place.


    Abi blinked owlishly at the clock. Its numbers might as well have been an untranslated form of Hesnmor[1] for all she understood of them. After her disturbed sleep she was still so tired that her mind automatically went to the Seroyawan time divisions she was more familiar with. It took her several minutes to decipher the numbers and convert them into something she recognised.


    It was almost eight o''clock. (Ateyan-uhimeru,[2] her mind substituted.) No wonder she wasn''t fully awake yet. She hadn''t gone to bed until roge-tsukawen. (After four o''clock, she corrected herself.)


    The breakfast bell would ring at half eight. Politicians and petitioners wouldn''t start to gather in the Silver Palace until eleven at the earliest. Ilaran had never actually told Abi or Ir¨ªm¨¦ when he intended to go to the empress. The most likely time was after dinner. Now, should she attend court today or not? Abi weighed up the pros and cons. In the face of this new problem she completely forgot she was still in her nightclothes, still standing in front of the clock, and still apparently studying it with an expression of deepest concentration.


    On the one hand it''ll be the most exciting thing to happen in court for years. On the other, I never attend court. I''ll get to see Haliran publicly humiliated and arrested. But then I''ll have to be there when she denounces me. Everyone will think that looks suspicious. And what will I say about Siarvin?


    That thought brought back the uncomfortable memory of what Ilaran had so calmly admitted during the ball. How could she stand by and let everyone think Siarvin was just an innocent, helpless victim when she knew he had killed a baby? Haliran''s sins didn''t cancel out his.


    If I report Siarvin''s crime everyone will say he''s as bad as Haliran, she thought.


    Moral dilemmas made everything so complicated. A month ago she would have had no hesitation in condemning anyone who killed a baby. Such a person could be nothing but irredeemably evil. Yet now she was confronted with someone who had actually done it, and someone else who defended him, and she found she couldn''t call either of them irredeemably evil. What a mess!


    Necromancy is so much simpler than this.


    Someone cleared their throat behind her. Abi abruptly found herself called back to reality. She turned round to see Kiriyuki standing behind her.


    Mercifully Kiriyuki said nothing about her staring at a clock as if it held all the secrets of the universe. Not that it was much comfort, considering what she did say. "That thing last night."


    She paused. Abi waited for her to continue. The silence stretched out. Kiriyuki cleared her throat again. She looked at the floor, then the wall, then the window. If she looked at Abi at all it was only for the briefest of moments.


    Others might have been bemused by this behaviour. Abi had seen it before, on the far from infrequent occasions when Kiriyuki''s father had something to criticise her for. This was Kiriyuki-ese for ''I''m partly to blame for this and I don''t know what to do about it''. Odd, when this was one case when she wasn''t actually to blame for something.


    At long last she finished, "Was it one of yours?"


    No point in denying it to someone who already knew about the necromancy. "Of course."


    Kiriyuki looked so woebegone she strongly resembled a criminal who''d just been handed a death sentence. "You did that because I told you to prove you could do it, didn''t you?"


    Amidst all the chaos of the last few hours Abi had completely forgotten her foster sister''s blackmail attempt. It had been overshadowed by the other, far more serious blackmail attempt.


    Kiriyuki took her silence for agreement. "Why did you have to choose such a noticeable place? The whole city''s talking about it."


    Was this a good time to mention Ir¨ªm¨¦''s excuse?


    "Sooner or later someone will connect it to you. If you wanted to prove it to me, why didn''t you just ask me to come to whatever graveyard you dug that thing out of?"


    "I didn''t think," Abi said. "Things went wrong." What an understatement. "That wasn''t--" Planned, she was about to say, but her pride stopped her finishing the sentence. An idea struck her at that moment. "Are you going to court today?"


    Kiriyuki''s morose expression was replaced with a disgruntled one. "I have to. Uncle Arikimi is here and he wants to talk to me."


    Abihira suppressed a grin. The emperor''s younger brother was one of the strictest members of the royal family. When he wanted to talk to someone, the bravest person alive would rather dive down a hole and pull it in after them than face his lectures. "I''ll come with you. For moral support."


    From the look on Kiriyuki''s face anyone would have thought she''d offered to hand him a broom so he could sweep up whatever remained of Kiriyuki when he was finished.


    <hr>


    Ilaran had gone over his plan hundreds of times from the minute he woke up. He thought of it while he had his breakfast. He thought of it during his morning prayers. He thought of it as he made a last minute review of all the incriminating documents Siarvin had gathered against Haliran. He even thought of it when playing a game of torgyn[3] with Shizuki -- which was probably why he lost so badly.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Can I come?" Shizuki asked as he got ready to leave.


    Ilaran thought about it. Things wouldn''t go well for either of them if Shizuki was seen in a place as important as the Silver Palace. People in general tended to react badly to the sight of anything unusual. A boy with green scales on his face was unusual by anyone''s standards, and the palace''s denizens were notorious for overreacting. "Can you hide somewhere out of sight?"


    Shizuki nodded. "Can hide anywhere. Want to see Haliran burn."


    "All right then. Just try not to let anyone see you."


    To his surprise Shizuki turned into a snake and slithered off at once. He crawled through the open window and was gone before Ilaran could say anything.


    "Haliran won''t be there herself," he called after him.


    If Shizuki heard he didn''t think it was important enough to reply. Ilaran shrugged and went on folding documents into a file. When he finished that he brushed his hair and put on the traditional diadem worn by members of the Saoridhin royal family. This was one time when deliberately wearing Tananerlish clothes would not have the desired effect. He wanted Raiv¨ªth to listen to him, not be offended by a blatant reminder of how much he disliked his mother''s family. He also needed to remind her she was his mother''s family, so he was legally a member of the Sinistrah clan[4].


    He frowned critically at his reflection. Damn it, he looked like something that had just crawled out of a grave. His hair hung limply around his face, looking as if he hadn''t washed it for weeks even though he''d washed it yesterday. Once, when he was younger and vainer -- well, as vain as he ever had been -- he had considered his hair the only good thing about his appearance. Mainly because it was one of the few things he hadn''t inherited from his father. He got his mother''s eyes -- which hardly did him much good when her entire family and the land they ruled believed green eyes were a sign of misfortune -- and his grandmother''s hair colour, but his face was entirely his father''s. It had angered him once. Now he had reconciled himself to it, and only resented how tiredness showed so plainly -- and so easily; even a single sleepless night left him looking like he hadn''t slept for a week -- on his face. The circles under his eyes were so dark, especially when compared to how pale the rest of his face was, that they could almost be mistaken for eyeshadow. Worse, they could be mistaken for very badly-applied eyeshadow that had been put on in the dark without consulting a mirror.


    When you were ruling prince of a province as chaotic as Tananerl you learnt all sorts of strange and unusual skills. Skills no other royals ever had any need to learn. How to embroider the standards of ten different clans just in case someone misplaced their own banner in the middle of a tournament, for example. How to prepare food well enough to replace the palace cook in case of an emergency. And how to apply your own make-up to conceal bruises, injuries, or any sign of illness. Certain members of his court believed Ilaran was invulnerable to weapons after he came through several battles without so much as a scratch. He let them keep on believing that. It was better for morale if they believed he could magically deflect blows than if they knew he covered up his injuries with carefully-applied make-up.


    A very faint dusting of powder, and he looked marginally less like a walking corpse. Painful experience had taught him he couldn''t do anything about how pale he was, unfortunately. Not without putting on so much make-up he turned himself into a clown.


    Ilaran checked to make sure none of the make-up had gotten on his clothes, straightened his diadem even though it wasn''t crooked, and picked up the file of papers. He was as ready as he''d ever be. Now for it.


    In these clothes he blended in with all the other inhabitants of the city. No one spared him a second glance as he walked to the hotel. Koyuki was waiting for him, sitting on one of the benches placed beside the front door.


    "Haliran drove past here about ten minutes ago," he said by way of greeting.


    That was just the sort of thing calculated to reassure Ilaran. For a few seconds he panicked, his mind automatically jumping to the conclusion she had somehow found out about Koyuki being here and was lying in wait for them somewhere. Common sense took over almost immediately. "Did she stop?"


    Koyuki shook his head. "She drove on towards the shops--" He waved vaguely to the left, "--over there. She had someone with her."


    All the better if it''s one of her accomplices, Ilaran thought. When the police went to arrest her they would be spared the trouble of having to search for at least one ally.


    "We won''t go that way, then," Ilaran said. "If she''s out shopping she''ll stay around the city centre. We''ll go over the East Bridge instead."


    <hr>


    Haliran remained blissfully unaware of the net closing in around her. She awoke that morning confident in the knowledge that she had gained a new accomplice who wouldn''t dare act against her. Princess Abihira was a fool, or she wouldn''t meddle with things she couldn''t understand, but even a fool could be useful. Especially a fool who was related to the empress herself. Until now Haliran had never been able to exert any influence over any royal directly. (Siarvin didn''t count; he had only been a minor nobleman indirectly connected with the royal family.) Through Abihira she would be able to meet the Grand Princess, and perhaps even the empress herself.


    With that happy thought in mind she had her breakfast and read her morning letters. There was one from her friend Menansierd, professor of horticulture at Eldrin University. Haliran read that one as she had her tea. Prince Arikimi of Seroyawa was visiting the city. According to Menansierd he was the patron of the Seroyawan Floriculture Association. She wanted to talk to him about arranging for some rare specimens from Seroyawa to be put on display in the University greenhouse, in exchange for some equally rare Saoridhin specimens she had collected.


    If you have nothing better to do, Menansierd finished, perhaps you could come with me.


    Haliran had little interest in horticulture except to find out which varieties were poisonous. But she would never turn down an opportunity to meet someone important, especially if they were a royal.


    She hadn''t planned to go to court today. As a minor noblewoman she had the right to attend whenever she wanted, of course. There was just little point in going when there was no chance of them discussing anything interesting. But to support a friend, especially a friend who had helped her in the past and turned a blind eye to certain things, she would put up with the dull debates for a while.


    Perhaps she should take Luamon. The silly girl had a foolish idea that royal court discussions were always fascinating. This should disabuse her of that notion.


    <hr>


    To her own surprise Kitri found she slept much better than expected after the festival fiasco. In spite of the grim circumstances there was something very satisfying about being proved right. She had warned Abi that necromancy was a terrible idea. Events had shown just how true her warnings were. All right, so the festival hadn''t ended in a bloodbath, but it very easily could have. If Abi kept messing around with corpses then someday it would.


    Surely after last night even Abi had lost her interest in raising the dead. Just in case she hadn''t Kitri thought of many very convincing arguments over breakfast. She memorised the most persuasive.  Then she left the hotel and went to visit Abi.


    "She already left?"


    The housekeeper nodded. "Her and Princess Kiriyuki. They''ve gone to the royal court. Shall I give her a message when she comes back?"


    Kitri was so baffled by this turn of events that it took her a minute to realise what she''d been asked. "Oh, er, no. No, thank you. I''ll visit again later."


    She left, scratching her head. For some reason it had never occurred to her that Abi might not be at home. Where else would she be after what had just happened? Surely she wouldn''t dare show her face in public. Yet it turned out she would dare, and at the royal court itself no less.


    Kitri stopped in her tracks as a horrible thought struck her. She''ll lead a corpse right into the court!


    The idea of yesterday''s events repeating was too much to bear. She set off in the direction of the Silver Palace, her lips pursed and her fists clenched. Court sessions were technically open to anyone interested enough to attend, even though in practice the general public usually didn''t care enough to bother. No one would object to her presence if she said she just wanted to listen to the discussions. Then she would be on hand to prevent -- if possible -- a disaster.


    If Abi''s idiocy caused yet more chaos she''d... she''d... Well, she didn''t know what she''d do, but it would be very unpleasant.


    <hr>


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s suspicions were right. His mother hadn''t noticed his absence. Nor did she comment on him waking up at midday and having breakfast while she was having lunch. She was too absorbed in talking about herself to ever spare a thought for anyone else.


    "I had a most enlightening chat with the zoo''s director," Kumolnea prattled on, not caring if he listened or not. "He told me that I should never feed the druhiper with bleo flower. It gives them indigestion. Better to feed them heosonel instead. I''ll have to buy some while we''re here. I don''t think we can get it in Neleth Ancalen."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ finished his second cup of coffee and glumly munched his way through a slice of toast. Kumolnea continued to chatter about her infernal collection. There were times when Ir¨ªm¨¦ dearly wanted to open all the cages in her twice-damned menagerie and let all the animals out.


    The next words out of her mouth were, "They have a chiodrintin skeleton at the museum. We''ll go and see it later."


    His stomach sank. He could imagine few things more miserable than an afternoon of listening to his mother talk about exotic animals.


    "Sorry, Mother, but I promised Abihira I''d take her to the theatre this afternoon," he said as he got up, and scurried out of the room before she thought to ask for more details.


    Now, should he go to the royal court or not? He didn''t like the thought of missing all the excitement. But what excuse could he give for going there when he never had before? It would be especially humiliating if the empress saw him and made any reference to his confession.


    For want of a better idea he went looking for Abi. A servant helpfully informed him she''d already left for the court. That settled it, and it gave him a perfect excuse. He set off for the Silver Palace.


    <hr>


    The palace guards always increased the security in the immediate aftermath of anything unusual. Luckily for Shizuki they were on the look-out for people, not snakes. He got into the palace without any difficulty. Statues of the gods of justice and truth stood in the hall where the empress held court. He slithered up one of the statues and coiled himself on top of its head. From here he could see and hear everyone but no one could see him.


    He settled down to wait for court to begin.

 Chapter VII: Accusation

    The opportunity to secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself. -- Sun Tzu


    Every court session followed an agreed-upon pattern. First the politicians yelled at each other about whatever they currently thought would make them popular. Unless something truly important was being discussed, the empress seldom attended that part of the session. Nor did many outsiders. Who wanted to listen to adults screaming at each other, calling each other names, and generally behaving like children? When that was over and the politicians were finally silent then anyone who had a suggestion on something related to the government or a serious matter to report could come forward with it.


    Shizuki had no idea of how the system worked. He expected Ilaran would arrive within minutes of the court being declared open for the day, reveal Haliran''s crimes, and have her arrested before the hour was out. He was in for a thorough disappointment.


    Dozens of politicians and aristocrats filed into the room. They took their accustomed seats and passed the time by gossiping with their friends or insulting their enemies. Shizuki was sure at least two challenges to a duel had been accepted within ten minutes. Perhaps even a few blood feuds had started. There should be a law against that. Such feuds were always nasty.


    He shuddered at the memory of the only blood feud he had personally witnessed. It had caused the deaths of eight people before Haliran decided she just had to stick her nose in. Within weeks the head and the three main heirs of one family had died under mysterious circumstances. Not coincidentally, someone in their rival family had gotten in over their head in gambling debts with some of Haliran''s friends. And one of the dead heirs owned a very valuable collection of historical artefacts. The artefacts were conspicuously not mentioned in their will even though their relatives knew they should have been. So Haliran was called on to value them and give them to a museum. Copies of them ended up in one of the city''s museums. The originals were sold to collectors willing to pay whatever exorbitant price Haliran took it into her head to name.


    To cheer himself up after that memory he reminded himself, She''ll never have the chance to do that again.


    In the room below some of the politicians lost their temper and started a shouting match. Shizuki watched with interest as it degenerated into a full-fledged tantrum. If he ever dared to use some of those words they threw around, Siarvin would wash his mouth out with soap. And he was fairly sure he had met toddlers who''d be ashamed to behave the way these grown men and women were. It ended in the guards storming in and breaking up the fight before it could turn violent. Shizuki was almost disappointed. There was nothing more entertaining for a child than watching adults make fools of themselves.


    Peace was restored. The politicians who had screamed insults a minute ago now sat down and pointedly ignored their rivals. Some of them wore expressions that suggested they would never even think of starting a fight. Shizuki shook his head and laughed at them. Luckily his laughter only sounded like a faint hiss, or the people would have been very alarmed to hear disembodied giggles coming from the statue''s head. Then he saw something that drove all thoughts of politicians and their idiocy out of his mind. His blood ran cold -- metaphorically, since technically it was always cold.


    Haliran had just walked into the room.


    Shizuki looked again just to make sure his eyes weren''t playing tricks on him. No, that really was Haliran. Worse, she was accompanied by one of her so-called friends. She had so many of those that he needed a minute to place this one. Oh. It was Menansierd.


    Professor of something, kept stolen goods when the police questioned Haliran, cheats at cards, Shizuki''s mind supplied.


    He watched the two of them as they sat down in the chairs reserved for nobles who infrequently attended the court. They talked animatedly about something. Well, Menansierd did. Haliran''s blank expression and short answers suggested she was mildly bored at best. She kept craning her neck to get a better look at the people already here.


    Shizuki''s first thought was, She knows about the plan.


    If he had been in his immortal form he would have fallen off the statue. He looked around wildly for any sign of Ilaran. Where was he? He had to warn him before he walked into a trap!


    <hr>


    There was something terrifying about the mere thought of going outside when you had stayed in one place for years. For the first century or so of their sham marriage Haliran had kept Siarvin under watch when she wasn''t around. There was nowhere he could go, when he had no friends, no money, and no way of getting home. She always took the time to remind him she could have him arrested on any invented charge she liked if she ever thought he was making a plan to leave.


    He had wanted to escape back then. He''d made several attempts. They''d all failed. Haliran''s servants were completely loyal to her or they would never have been able to keep their jobs. Twice he even attempted suicide. Both times his guards got suspicious and barged in on him before he could go through with the attempt.


    The second time he managed to cut his own throat with one of the kitchen knives. Haliran had ordered them to be blunted, but neglected to check how blunt they actually were. That one was sharp enough to cut. It just wasn''t sharp enough to cut deep. He only inflicted a surface wound before they found him. To his surprise Haliran went to the trouble of fetching a doctor. When she was sure his injury wasn''t serious she told him -- smiling all the time -- never to do that again or there''d be hell to pay.


    After that he''d given up hope of escape. He found more subtle ways of fighting against Haliran, but he didn''t try to flee any more. A few decades later she removed the guards. When she told him about it she tried to portray it as a gesture of trust.


    "See, I''ve forgiven you," she said with a smile, as if she was the one with anything to forgive.


    To Siarvin it had been a cruel taunt, a reminder that she knew how badly she''d broken him.


    Years after that she told him outright he could go out if he wanted to -- on condition he never left the city. Over the years he rarely took her up on that offer. It was too much like crawling out of his own grave and then willingly burying himself in it again. Illogical though it seemed, it was easier to remind himself he was a prisoner here against his will when he seldom left his house. If he accepted the illusion of freedom she offered he might come to believe it really was freedom. He might even forget he was still a prisoner.


    Today started like any other day in his living nightmare. He had breakfast, washed the dishes himself, and sat down to have a cup of tea.


    He tidied up the kitchen as he usually did. Everything had its own specific place. If anything was moved by even the slightest bit he would know someone else had been here. It was a habit he got into just in case Haliran ever tried to put something in his food. At midday he walked around the house, checking to make sure everything was exactly as it should be. Then he calmly walked out the door. He took nothing with him. He never looked back. He walked straight across the grounds and out the front gate. The guards didn''t bat an eyelid. They knew he was allowed to leave, and if they thought about it at all they just assumed he was going on some errand.


    It had been millennia since Siarvin went to the Silver Palace. He still knew the way. Immortals changed little over the years, and immortals'' cities even less. About twenty minutes later he approached the gates.


    Ilaran and Koyuki stood outside, at enough of a distance from the gates to prevent the guards becoming suspicious. Koyuki carefully avoided meeting Siarvin''s eyes. Ilaran straightened up and gave Siarvin a look somewhere between excited and impatient. That look was so eerily similar to the expression Aderthril had always worn before a battle that it hurt. How strange; taken individually Ilaran''s features were almost an exact copy of his father''s, but when put together he strongly resembled his mother. It also hurt to know he likely didn''t realise how strongly. He had still been so young when she died.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Koyuki saw Haliran in the city," Ilaran said, oblivious to the depressing turn Siarvin''s thoughts had taken.


    "Is she back yet?" Siarvin shook his head. "She left to visit one of her friends."


    Ilaran smiled. Siarvin suppressed a shudder. In that moment he looked exactly like his father. "Good. Are we ready?"


    The palace doors were open. A few figures wandered in and out. The court would be in session, and the empress would probably soon arrive. At that very moment the bells rang to announce her arrival. Now was as good a time as any. Siarvin nodded. Koyuki followed suit, though more slowly.


    The three of them set off towards the palace. The guards let them pass without batting an eyelid.


    <hr>


    Until today Abi had little idea of what the royal court was like when in session. She had an answer now. Court was interminably dull. Nothing but pompous politicians nattering on about trivial old laws. They weren''t even amusing or illogical laws, like the one against answering the door with a chicken on your head[1].


    Kiriyuki dozed off during the middle of a heated debate about train tickets. Not a debate about their price or anything actually useful. It was just about if they should be printed on paper or fabric. Fabric, of all things. Abi would have gone to sleep too if she wasn''t all too aware of what would happen when Ilaran arrived. The trouble was she didn''t know when he''d arrive. What was the point of sleeping when she might be rudely awakened fifteen minutes later?


    To distract herself from the debate she looked around at the other attendees. There was Uncle Arikimi on the other side of the room, deep in conversation with the Seroyawan ambassador. Judging by the looks he occasionally cast in their direction, Kiriyuki was in for yet another interminable lecture on decorum and protocol as soon as the court was adjourned.


    A short distance from Arikimi was a man with a truly bizarre hat made entirely of metal triangles. Abi spent several minutes wondering if that was actually a hat or if some alien life-form had taken up residence on his head. On the other side of the room a woman was loudly snoring. Abi couldn''t blame her. The politicians should take the hint and stop nattering about nonsense.


    She leaned forward in her seat to see past Kiriyuki. At first she didn''t believe her eyes. That couldn''t possibly be Haliran there. During their brief talk at the festival Ilaran had said she never attended court.


    Abi rubbed her eyes and looked again. Her stomach felt as if it had just tied itself in knots. That was Haliran. And unless she was mistaken the young woman sitting on the seat in front of her was one of her daughters. The one who''d spoken to Abi at the opera. What was her name? Oh, it didn''t matter. What did matter was that Haliran was here. Here, in the court, when she should have been at home. Here, where she would have a front row seat to her own denunciation, when the arrival of the police should take her by surprise.


    Apart from everything else, that meant she would denounce Abi herself in just a few minutes.


    The knots in Abi''s stomach twisted even further. She stood up and tried to unobtrusively move towards the door. If she went around by one of the side halls she could avoid anyone seeing her leave. She just had to wait outside the main doors until Ilaran arrived. She had to warn him before it was too late.


    Behind the main council table was the door the empress used to enter the chamber. It flew open just as Abi reached the last row of chairs. She turned round, her heart sinking.


    "Her Imperial Majesty Empress Raiv¨ªth arrives!" the herald cried.


    In the bell-tower on the palace roof the bells rang twice. That was to inform people waiting outside for the politicians to shut up that the empress had arrived and they could petition her directly. It was too late.


    The room was divided into several sets of chairs, separated by low wooden walls with doors at intervals. Abi and Kiriyuki were in one set. Haliran was in the one beside them. Abi eyed the distance between the closest door and Haliran''s seat.


    If I''m quick I could knock her out before Ilaran arrives, she thought.


    Common sense caught up with her at once. Such a scheme might work in a novel, but not in the royal palace. The entire court, including her grandmother, would see what looked to them like an unprovoked attack on a random stranger.


    Abi took a deep breath. Her heart battered against her ribcage like a trapped bird. Her stomach was doing its best to twist its way right out of her abdomen. Really, it was just as well she hadn''t eaten anything this morning or she would have been sick by now. She sat down on the nearest chair and tried to think. It was almost impossible when her thoughts flew around wildly like a flock of startled birds.


    Before the empress''s arrival the court room had been relatively empty. Now more and more people filed in. One petitioner had already presented her case to Raiv¨ªth. The sleeping members of the audience began to wake up. Several rows below Kiriyuki looked around for her.


    "What are you doing up there?" she asked when she finally saw her. Abi guessed at her meaning more from her expression and the movements of her mouth than by actually hearing her words.


    She shrugged helplessly and went back down to take her seat again. There was no way out of this mess. She just had to accept it -- and pray Ilaran was right about no one believing Haliran.


    <hr>


    Kitri and Ir¨ªm¨¦ bumped into each other on the palace steps -- literally. Neither was looking where they were going, too preoccupied by looking for Abi.


    "Sorry," they said at the same time, then did a double take as they recognised each other.


    "What are you doing here?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked.


    Kitri eyed him suspiciously. "Are you here to help her with," she paused before finishing, "you-know-what?"


    "In the palace?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked incredulously. "How stupid do you think Abi is?"


    "Stupid enough to raise the dead even when everyone agrees it''s a bad idea."


    Well, he couldn''t argue with that. So he changed the subject. "I''m here to... It''s a long story. But it has nothing to do with magic."


    Kitri didn''t look convinced. "I''m here in case last night happens all over again."


    What use would you be if a zombie attack did happen? Ir¨ªm¨¦ wondered. He didn''t want an argument on the palace steps, so he didn''t say it aloud.


    "Do you know where the courtroom is?" he asked instead, since he didn''t fancy getting lost in the palace.


    Kitri''s bemused expression suggested he had asked something very foolish. "Of course. Come on."


    As soon as they got inside the palace Ir¨ªm¨¦ realised why Kitri reacted that way to his question. The way to the courtroom was clearly signposted. Only someone with the world''s worst sense of direction could possibly get lost.


    They looked around for Abi when they arrived. If she was there, it was impossible to pick her out amongst the crowd. So they looked at each other, shrugged, and sat down on the closest empty seats.


    <hr>


    Ilaran had never given much thought to how he would feel when he stepped into the courtroom. Goodness knew he had stepped into his own often enough back home and never thought anything of it. Now he found that there was a vast difference between being the prince hearing petitions and the petitioner bringing one. Logically he knew people weren''t staring specifically at him; they were just looking curiously at anyone who wanted to speak to the empress. Most of them didn''t even know who he was. In Tananerl he was the centre of attention on every official occasion, yet those stares had never bothered him half as much as these ones.


    It wouldn''t have been so bad if Siarvin and Koyuki were with him. But in accordance with usual custom in Tananerl he had left them outside until they were called on to back up his accusation. Only now it occurred to him that usual custom in Tananerl was not necessarily usual custom in Eldrin.


    Raiv¨ªth was one of the few people in the room who both recognised him at once and knew what he was there for. If Abihira or Ir¨ªm¨¦ were present, he hadn''t seen them yet. With a wave of her hand Raiv¨ªth silenced one of the politicians in the middle of his speech. She looked directly at Ilaran.


    "Prince Ilaran, I believe you have an important matter to report?"


    "Yes, aunt." Might as well remind her of that.


    His mouth had suddenly gone dry. Was this how people felt when they came to report crimes to him?


    Raiv¨ªth looked at him expectantly. "What is it?"


    A small, absurd feeling at the back of his mind made him want to look at the ground, at the ceiling, anywhere but at his aunt or any of the people present. It seemed to think that this would be easier if he couldn''t see anyone. He steadfastly ignored that feeling and kept his head held high. He was a ruling prince, a royal on both sides of his family, a general who had won countless battles, and he would not cower or cringe like a common criminal. Especially when he hadn''t even done anything wrong that would warrant such behaviour. It would give the completely wrong impression.


    "Treason, your Majesty. Among other things."


    A chorus of excited whispers arose from the audience. Raiv¨ªth looked as if she''d thought as much.


    Not for nothing was the Silver Place given its name. The walls and ceiling were painted silver. The pillars and the wall behind Raiv¨ªth were covered with bits of glass -- or something that looked like glass; Ilaran had never cared enough to ask what it was. All those tiny fragments caught the light and made the room look like something out of a fairy-tale. They also acted as thousands upon thousands of mirrors combining into one huge -- though fractured -- mirror. You could look into them and see the people behind you. True, it wasn''t a proper reflection, and the cracks made people strongly resemble fairy-tale monsters. But if someone was lucky enough to be reflected in just one piece of glass, their face was clearly visible.


    While he waited for the uproar to subside, Ilaran glanced idly at the mirrors. Haliran stared back at him.

 Chapter VIII: All Hell Breaks Loose

    What northern wind blew us into the street?


    And what fatal one will we all some day meet?


    -- The Collection, Sing of the Moon


    At first Ilaran didn''t believe she was really there. Haliran had been on his mind for weeks. Her ugly face had forced its way into his dreams as his mind superimposed her over every enemy he''d ever faced. No wonder he imagined he saw her here when she wouldn''t give him a minute''s peace.


    He blinked and looked again. Haliran glared right back at him.


    Unlike Abi a few minutes ago his reaction wasn''t horror. At first it was surprise. Then it was bemusement. Why was she here at all when she didn''t make a habit of attending court? Then he accepted she was here, there was nothing he could do about it, and the police would be spared the trouble of going in search of her to arrest her.


    At last silence fell in the courtroom. Raiv¨ªth looked expectantly at Ilaran. He continued talking as if nothing had happened. The whole time he kept his eyes on Haliran''s reflection. Judging by her suspicious frown, she knew something was happening that she didn''t like but hadn''t realised yet that she was the person being spoken about.


    He studied her surroundings in the reflection. The mirror was so small it was hard to tell where she actually was in the room. By stepping forward he got a better view of which seating area she was in. A little bit of deduction and glancing at the other mirrors, and he managed to conjure up a fairly accurate idea of where she was. Not directly behind him, in spite of what it had looked like at first; she was off to his right and sitting quite near the council table. He kept that in mind as he spoke.


    "Five thousand years ago this person got their hands on top secret battle plans during the Kadinis War. She sold them to whichever foreign government was willing to pay the most for them. As a result Saoridhl¨¦m lost six battles and over twenty thousand soldiers were killed."


    Ilaran could see the exact moment Haliran realised she was the person in question. Dawning horror appeared on her face. It was a memory he would cherish for the rest of his life.


    "She is also guilty of embezzlement, at least eighty murders, rape, forced marriage, and bribing police officers and judges. All the details of her crimes are in here, provided by the testimony of one of her victims and a former ally."


    He held out the folder full of documents. Raiv¨ªth waved a servant over to take them from him.


    "Who is this person you speak of?" she asked.


    Dramatic gestures were very useful in moderation. They were also very tricky to get right. Performing one correctly relied on careful planning, careful timing, exploiting details other people were unaware of, and a great deal of luck. Ilaran tried not to use them too often. Over-indulging in drama came with a heightened risk of getting something wrong and making a fool of himself. Still, this was one time when a dramatic gesture was practically required. He thought of where he''d figured out Haliran was sitting. He kept that exact image in mind as he turned -- slowly enough for him to avoid a humiliating mistake if he was wrong.


    He was right. He turned round and looked Haliran straight in the face.


    "Haliran-r¨²daun."


    <hr>


    Profound silence fell over the entire room. Everyone was too stunned to react. Well, almost everyone. Two people already knew what was coming and were spared the surprise.


    Abi facepalmed. Oh, by all the gods. Why does Ilaran have to be so dramatic about it? What does he think he is? A conjurer in a pantomime?


    On the other side of the seating areas Ir¨ªm¨¦ watched with eyes nearly as wide as saucers. How did he do that? This thought was followed almost immediately by, How can I work this into a story?


    <hr>


    It took Haliran less than a minute to recover from her shock. Predictably she decided denying everything was the best way to go. She leapt to her feet and shouted, "Your Majesty, I must protest! These are scandalous lies!"


    Good grief, Ilaran thought. She couldn''t sound any less convincing if she tried.


    Even more predictably Haliran''s next course of action was to attack him personally. "This is a petty attempt at vengeance. This man is unfortunately related to my husband. He kept sponging money from my husband."


    Now that was just stupid. Everyone in Eldrin aristocratic circles knew Siarvin had no money of his own. Haliran had never tried to keep it a secret, proof she wasn''t nearly as intelligent as she thought.


    "I put a stop to it when I realised what he was doing. He swore he''d get revenge, and this is how he goes about it."


    It was all Ilaran could do not to laugh in her face. He struggled to bite back a smile. Does she really think anyone believes her?


    "Do at least try to be creative in your lies," he said, adopting the bored drawl he always used when dealing with exceptionally stupid officials wasting his time with pointless questions. "You used to be quite good at them. Your mind must have weakened with age."


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    Someone in the audience giggled. As usually happened in a room full of many people and a very tense atmosphere, that sent everyone else off into gales of laughter.


    "We both know who the liar is here," Haliran said coldly. Well, she was right, even though that was something he hadn''t known anyone actually said in real life. She sounded like a character in the first act of a badly-written comedy of misunderstandings. "Or have you forgotten about the first time I ever had the bad luck to meet you, when you came begging for my help?"


    Oh no, she was not going to drag up that old story again. Especially not her warped version of it. Ilaran completely forgot about the audience listening to every word in the burst of rage that filled him then.


    "I begged for no one''s help," he snapped. "I asked my uncle for advice, because thanks to you he had already dealt with the same situation I was in. It would not surprise me to learn my teacher was a relative of yours!"


    Raiv¨ªth cleared her throat. "I don''t mean to seem inquisitive," she couldn''t have sounded more sarcastic if she tried, "but what in the name of all the gods are you two babbling about?"


    When Ilaran was barely a thousand years old[1] and a student at the University of Haratra, his maths teacher had attempted to seduce him. Repeatedly. When that didn''t work he began trying to corner Ilaran alone in empty parts on the university. Ilaran took to never attending any of his classes to avoid the chance of ever meeting that man. Next the teacher started a rumour that Ilaran was the one trying to seduce him. It was amazing how everyone was willing to believe an adult''s word over an adolescent''s. In desperation Ilaran wrote to Siarvin for advice. His uncle''s advice was two words: "Kill him". So he did. Slowly and painfully. That was the first time he killed someone, and the man''s screams were a particularly treasured memory.


    Ilaran pictured attempting to explain any of that in front of all these people. He shuddered. "It has nothing to do with the case."


    Luckily Raiv¨ªth accepted that without asking any awkward questions. "You said you had witnesses outside." To one of the guards she said, "Bring them in now."


    He hadn''t said that, but it was unsurprising to discover that Raiv¨ªth knew about Siarvin and Koyuki waiting outside. She probably had guards keeping an eye on them right now.


    An interruption came at that moment, from a most unexpected direction. Luamon jumped to her feet, glaring at the empress.


    "Are you going to let this farce continue?" she demanded, before sheepishly tacking on, "Your Majesty." Without letting that faze her she continued, "My mother is innocent!"


    How ignorant are you? Ilaran wondered. Haliran had hardly attempted to portray herself and Siarvin as being happily married. If outsiders could tell something was badly wrong in that household, their own children should know all about it.


    "I will decide that, child," Raiv¨ªth said, in a more kindly tone than she''d used so far. She looked at the guard, who was hesitating at the open door. "Well? Bring them in!"


    The guard looked most uncomfortable. "Er, your Majesty? There''s a giant snake out here."


    Everyone leaned forward in their seats and craned their necks to see what new excitement was in store. Ilaran and Raiv¨ªth exchanged baffled looks. Going by her expression Raiv¨ªth thought this was part of his plan. Ilaran''s first thought was Koyuki taking his snake form for some reason. Then the snake slithered into the room. He revised that opinion at once.


    "Shizuki, what are you doing?"


    <hr>


    It had been ages and Haliran still hadn''t mentioned the necromancy. Abi couldn''t have felt worse if she had already revealed it. Her ribs seemed to have become too tight for her lungs. One minute her heart was in her throat, the next it felt as if it was down at her feet. Not even the snake''s appearance distracted her from the crushing terror. It felt like she had a sword at her neck and was waiting for Haliran to swing it.


    Almost unconsciously she began to gather her magic, ready to defend against the impending attack.


    <hr>


    Shizuki reared up and hissed at Haliran. All the people around her quickly vacated their seats. Haliran surprisingly reacted more calmly than she had before. She simply glared at her son, unafraid of his very sharp fangs.


    None of this had been in Ilaran''s plan of how the court case would go. "Leave her alone, Shizuki."


    Out of petty spite he dearly wanted to add, You might die if you bite her. She''d poison anything. He stopped himself just in time. No need to turn this into an excuse to throw insults when the facts were damning enough.


    Shizuki slithered away from Haliran, shrinking down until he was no longer than the average garden snake[2]. He looked far too pleased with himself for someone who had just caused an uproar in a courtroom.


    "What is that snake doing in


    here?" Raiv¨ªth demanded, staring at Ilaran with the bafflement of someone who wished what they were seeing would start to make sense. "Is it a pet of yours?"


    Naturally Shizuki chose that moment to turn back into his immortal form. He grabbed Ilaran''s arm and held on like the world''s most determined limpet. "Not a pet!" he said indignantly, glaring at Raiv¨ªth.


    The guard showed Siarvin and Koyuki in at that moment. Siarvin looked around at Shizuki clinging to Ilaran, Haliran glaring daggers at him, the empty chairs all around her, and the thoroughly confused empress. He sighed.


    "Shizuki, I told you to stay out of sight."


    For a few minutes after that everything went back to being more like a normal trial. Siarvin and Koyuki gave their evidence. Shizuki piped up with the story of the time Haliran tried to poison him and the other time one of her friends attacked his snake form with a shovel while she watched. Ilaran hadn''t heard either of those stories before. He had to resist the urge to turn into his eagle form and tear Haliran''s eyes out on the spot.


    "Arrest her," Raiv¨ªth ordered the guards.


    "You can''t seriously believe this nonsense, your Majesty," Haliran protested even as the guards advanced towards her.


    "I will order a full investigation into this," Raiv¨ªth said. "Whatever the truth is, I''ll find it. And I don''t mind telling you that I''m strongly inclined to believe them."


    Until now Haliran hadn''t played her trump card. Ilaran had wondered idly why that was, in the brief moments when he wasn''t preoccupied by everything else that was happening. Now she finally decided to play it.


    "Your Majesty, do you know your granddaughter is a necromancer?"


    The audience burst out laughing. So did most of the guards. Even Raiv¨ªth herself cracked a smile. Everyone took it as a ludicrous non-sequitur. And they would have continued to take it that way if not for a sudden and unexpected turn of events.


    Some invisible force yanked Haliran out of her chair. It tossed her around like a ragdoll. Then it hurled her to the floor with such force that her arm audibly snapped. Everyone froze. Their laughter died.


    Only one person had jumped to their feet at the exact minute Haliran was thrown around. They were still standing, with one hand outstretched and pointed right at Haliran. Every eye turned towards them. Ilaran''s stomach sank.


    It was Abihira.

 Chapter IX: The Fallout

    Our backs against the wall


    We''re surrounded and afraid


    Our lives now in the hands


    Of the soldiers taking aim


    -- Sleeping at Last, Mars


    Many disasters started because of something that someone thought seemed like a good idea at the time. Infinitely more of them started because someone involved just didn''t think at all. Many a general had created a battle plan that was foiled by the actions of an apparently unimportant soldier or overlooked detail.


    Common sense told Abi that reacting badly when accused would just make her look guilty. In this case common sense was pitted against fear, anxiety, sleeplessness, and general stress. It was defeated. Roundly. Blind instinct took over as soon as Haliran mentioned necromancy. No matter what the situation blind instinct was not known for choosing the most logical course of action; just the one that would immediately neutralise whatever threat she faced. Attacking Haliran with magic seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to do in that moment.


    Seconds later, with Haliran crumpled on the ground like a tossed-aside newspaper and the eyes of the entire courtroom on her, Abi realised it wasn''t a reasonable thing to do at all.


    Down on the courtroom floor her grandmother stared up at her with an unreadable expression. It was the sort of look that would strike terror into anyone''s heart, even if they hadn''t done anything to warrant it. Naturally it was even worse when Abi knew only too well she did warrant it. Ilaran gave her a look somewhere between horror and exasperation. Beside her Kiriyuki gave her a glare so fierce anyone would have thought she was trying to set Abi on fire. Uncle Arikimi''s mouth hung open as if he''d forgotten to close it. A veritable sea of strangers'' shocked faces gazed up at her.


    Even the bravest person''s courage would desert them when confronted with over a hundred rightly angry and horrified people. Abi turned and ran. The people between her and the exit shrank back as if they would suffer the same fate as Haliran just by being too close to her.


    The door at the back of the seating area opened out onto the first floor''s landing. Abi fully expected the guards to stop her as she charged through it, then ran down the stairs and out the main doors. Amazingly no one stopped her. She received a few bemused looks from servants as she hurtled past them. The guards at the gate paid no attention to her at all. She ran and ran until she was safely away from the Silver Palace.


    <hr>


    You could have heard a feather fall to the floor in the courtroom. Ir¨ªm¨¦ found he hardly dared to breathe. He and Kitri could only stare at each other in horror.


    That idiot! he thought over and over again.


    They''d had a very good plan. Fool-proof, one might say. No one had taken Haliran''s accusation seriously. It would have gone down as a particularly ludicrous attempt to deflect attention onto someone else if only Abihira hadn''t decided to confirm it in front of everyone!


    A small part of Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mind was reluctantly impressed by how easily Abi had thrown Haliran around. Telekinetically picking up an inanimate object was harder than it looked. Use too much force and it would shoot up to the ceiling. Use too little and it wouldn''t move at all. Telekinetically picking up a person, who was much heavier than, say, a book and much more likely to protest, was something very few immortals could do. For an adolescent immortal to toss an adult around the room with enough force to break a bone... Well, no wonder Abi could do impossible things like raise the dead. She clearly had far more magical power than anyone realised.


    It was just a pity she''d used that power to make a spectacle of herself.


    <hr>


    Under any other circumstances someone could have taken it upon themselves to throw Haliran across the room and Ilaran wouldn''t have batted an eyelid. He''d have applauded and asked them to do it again, in fact. Under these circumstances... Why, oh why, did Abihira have to attack Haliran at the worst possible moment?


    Gradually the audience began to recover from their shock. Murmurs and exclamations rose from the crowd as they realised yes, that had happened, and yes, the perpetrator had escaped without being apprehended. Empress Raiv¨ªth cleared her throat. Silence fell again.


    "Guards! Take Haliran-r¨²daun to the holding cells and fetch a doctor."


    A group of guards approached the motionless Haliran slowly and with much trepidation. Ilaran had to wonder if they thought they''d suffer the same fate just by going near her. At last they gathered enough courage to pick her up and carry her out of the courtroom.


    Raiv¨ªth turned to the other guards who still remained. "Find Princess Abihira and bring her to me. There are a few questions I want to ask her. Now, in light of everything that has happened, I think everyone should go home. Court is adjourned for today."


    That was code for "I know there''s going to be a scandal involving one or more of my relatives and I don''t want it to get out too soon".


    All of Ilaran''s thoughts had focused on the trial itself. He''d never given any thought to what happened afterwards. Certainly he had never anticipated this. Still, even though things hadn''t gone quite as he planned, there was still cause for celebration. Haliran was under arrest and would be found guilty. Siarvin and Shizuki were safe from her and out of her clutches. They could start making arrangements to go back to Tananerl now.


    "Come on," he said to Siarvin and Koyuki. Shizuki had let go of his arm after the, er, incident. Now he was hiding behind Siarvin and peering owlishly around at the departing audience. It was surprisingly cute for someone who looked as unsettling as Shizuki. "Let''s go and have a drink."


    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Among the people who hadn''t left yet he spotted two familiar faces. One was Ir¨ªm¨¦, who apparently still hadn''t recovered from witnessing his fianc¨¦e''s idiocy. He looked as if he''d been turned to stone. The other was Luamon. She looked helplessly between Siarvin and the door the guards had taken Haliran through. Ilaran almost felt sorry for her. She and her older siblings weren''t to blame for her mother''s sins, after all. But she wasn''t a child either. She should have realised something was badly wrong in her house and should have tried to stop it. She hadn''t, and now she would just have to put up with the results.


    <hr>


    Abi''s first instinct was to go home. She began to walk in that general direction. She got as far as the junction leading to her parents'' house before she realised what she was doing. Common sense, that thing she had completely ignored so far, finally took over. Her grandmother would inevitably want to question her about what happened. The very first place she''d look was of course Yaruael Palace. Therefore it was the last place Abi should go.


    She hadn''t bothered to take any money with her before leaving. Why would she, when she didn''t intend to go shopping? So she couldn''t go to a restaurant or theatre. Ir¨ªm¨¦ and his mother were staying at Yaruael Palace. So was Kiriyuki. Kitri was staying in a hotel somewhere in the city. The problem was, Abi didn''t know which hotel. The only one of her acquaintances whose current address she did know was Ilaran. She could just imagine what he would say if she turned up on his doorstep, asking for help getting out of the mess she''d gotten herself into. Worse, the mess she was in because she blatantly disregarded the advice he had given her last night.


    For want of anything better to do she wandered away from the palaces and along the path beside the river. This was where Kiriyuki had so unexpectedly appeared just a few days ago. Not far ahead was the barn where she first successfully raised the dead -- even if it was just a dead mouse.


    The thought of the dead mouse brought back the memory of that inexplicable moment when the mouse leapt into Ir¨ªm¨¦''s hand. She still didn''t know how that had happened. But after yesterday''s events she had a fairly good idea. Reanimated corpses had some ability to think and act of their own accord. It was still strange that it had moved without a direct order, but that didn''t mean it was actually sinister.


    Naturally her thoughts led her back to the subject of necromancy itself. Her grandmother had probably already figured out that Haliran''s accusation was true. Well, why shouldn''t she admit to it? She could prove none of her... creations, for want of a better word, were dangerous. The most they''d ever done was frighten people. If she could convince Grandmother there was no harm in necromancy, she could practice it openly without having to worry if someone would catch her.


    Abi stopped and leaned over the railing at the path''s edge. The river churned below her. It had been raining somewhere further upstream, and the water was muddy and cloudy. Anything could lurk beneath its surface, staring up at her, and she would never know.


    For a minute an absurd image of Mirio bursting out of the river in his sea serpent form filled her head. Abi giggled in spite of herself.


    It was amazing how the world looked much brighter after you''d found something to laugh at. Yes, Haliran still had a broken arm. She''d be fined for that even if not for anything else. Still she couldn''t bring herself to regret it. It wasn''t as if she''d attacked an innocent bystander who''d never harmed anyone. Yes, she had to face her grandmother and confess to necromancy. But she could face the thought of that much better now.


    Abi straightened up. She turned and strode back the way she''d come. No time like the present, and she might as well get it all over with now.


    <hr>


    Amidst all the chaos everyone completely forgot about Menansierd. She kept her head down, acted like it was mere chance she happened to be sitting next to Haliran, and got out of the palace as quickly as possible. When she was safely back at her own house she reviewed the situation.


    Haliran had been arrested. That was relatively unsurprising; no one could keep things hidden forever. That wretched husband of hers was involved. Also unsurprising. If Menansierd had been in Haliran''s position she would have killed him long ago. Haliran had discovered there was a necromancer in the royal family. Now that was surprising.


    There were many people with skeletons they would dearly love to keep in their closets. Anyone associated with Haliran had especially nasty ones. Menansierd was no exception. She had gotten her position at the university through some underhanded tricks. If Haliran''s crimes were investigated, hers would soon come to light. Her reputation would be ruined.


    Yet there was one person who could help. Princess Abihira had very carelessly exposed both the truth of Haliran''s accusation and how powerful a magician she was. If Menansierd could convince her it was in her best interests to help Haliran escape, everyone could breathe a sigh of relief.


    And while she was at it, she should probably do something about that infernal pest Ilaran. She didn''t personally know any assassins, but she had friends who did.


    <hr>


    The events of the last twenty-four hours seemed like a dream. Now that he was out of the palace and in the fresh air Ir¨ªm¨¦ could hardly convince himself they were real. Could there actually be a walking corpse hidden in the crypt? Could Abi actually have attacked someone in broad daylight? Or was he fast asleep and would wake up to find it was still the day before the festival?


    Then he remembered the giant snake. That convinced him it was real. He might have a vivid imagination, but not that vivid.


    Thinking about Shizuki led him back to the memory of Ilaran''s oh-so-dramatic way of denouncing Haliran. Ir¨ªm¨¦ spent most of the walk back to the palace wondering how he had done that and if there was any chance Ir¨ªm¨¦ could replicate it. All right, so he couldn''t think of any circumstances where he would need to turn around and point at someone like that, but that wasn''t important compared to how impressively theatrical it was.


    He was abruptly jolted out of his thoughts by the sight of Abi walking towards him. She noticed him at the same moment he saw her. They both froze, staring at each other.


    "You''re an idiot," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said at last. It was the only thing he could think of.


    Abi nodded. "I know. I''m going to talk to Grandmother. Wish me luck."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ blinked. "Luck? She''s sent guards to arrest you!"


    Abi nodded again, grimacing. "I might have known. Well, I''m going to talk to her anyway."


    She walked past him before he had a chance to process this latest piece of colossal idiocy. He whirled round and grabbed her arm.


    "You can''t just walk into the palace! They''ll throw you in the dungeons with Haliran!"


    "Don''t be silly," Abi said. "Grandmother will want to question me first. I''m going to confess. Then I can convince her necromancy isn''t dangerous."


    By all the gods, was there no limit to her stupidity?


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ spoke slowly and clearly so she would understand. "Necromancy is illegal. You''ll be thrown in prison just for confessing to it. You should say you lost your temper, or she''d already accused you, or... or... Well, say something that''s not a confession!"


    Abi''s stubborn frown showed she wasn''t convinced. "She''d never believe that, and then I''d be in even more trouble for lying."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ sighed. He couldn''t talk her out of it and he couldn''t get her to give an excuse. So there was only one thing left that he could do. "All right then. I''m coming with you."

 Chapter X: Abi in Trouble

    "Oh, no," said the Lecturer in Recent Runes, pushing his chair back. "Not that. That''s meddling with things you don''t understand."


    "Well, we are wizards," said Ridcully. "We''re supposed to meddle with things we don''t understand. If we hung around waitin'' till we understood things we''d never get anything done."


    -- Terry Pratchett, Interesting Times


    Few things could make a person feel smaller than facing an older and -- generally -- respected relative who was disappointed in them. That feeling only increased tenfold when the older and generally respected relative was the empress, could have them thrown in the dungeon with the wave of her hand, and had good reason to be both disappointed and angry with them.


    "You have no need for lengthy explanations or excuses," Raiv¨ªth said grimly. "I think the facts speak for themselves. There''s only one thing I want to know." She stared Abi in the eye until Abi felt as insignificant as a speck of dust. "Why in the name of all that''s holy did you decide to become a necromancer?"


    She had many reasons. She''d already told Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Kitri the most convincing ones. They suddenly seemed very unconvincing now she thought of telling her grandmother.


    "I think it''s a useful skill," she said. She was embarrassed to hear how her voice quavered. "You know Grandfather''s always telling us to learn as many skills as possible in case we need them."


    Raiv¨ªth closed her eyes. She took a deep breath. There was a brief pause that suggested she was silently counting to ten. "Your grandfather meant skills like cooking, sword fighting, and first aid. Not dark magic. Certainly not meddling with things only the gods can understand. Shall I ask him to come and hear how badly you misinterpreted his advice?"


    Abi winced. Emperor Consort Ninuath was normally calm and even-tempered, but the entire royal family lived in fear of the times when he did lose his temper. Time to try another tactic.


    "I''ve already raised the dead and nothing bad has happened." That was technically true if you limited the definition of ''bad'' to mean exclusively ''they attacked or killed someone''. Disrupting a festival was what most people would consider bad, but no one had actually been hurt. So Abi decided to disregard that incident entirely. "Ir¨ªm¨¦ can confirm it."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ gave her a horrified look. She mouthed the word "mouse" at him. Thank goodness he got the point.


    "She raised a mouse from the dead, your Majesty," he said, very politely and as if they were having an amiable chat over cups of tea.


    Raiv¨ªth eyed him sourly. "She raised more than that, I think. I thought that story of yours was threadbare. Now I see you were trying to protect her. Tell me, Rilluintiar, what made you think inviting a corpse to the festival was a good idea?"


    It was never a good sign when relatives started using your kelros-name[1]. It was an even worse sign when they made it sound like an especially vile insult.


    Sometimes Abi had to wonder if parents and grandparents developed a sixth sense for when a child or adolescent was doing something they disapproved of, and a seventh sense for knowing exactly what it was. Her foster parents had an amazing ability to summon her or send her off somewhere just when she wanted to do some research into less-than-legal magic. Her biological parents had spent the last month distracting her with things to do with the wedding when she was so close to successfully performing necromancy. And now her grandmother not only knew what she''d done, but she knew last night was her fault. It was uncanny.


    "I made a mistake," she said. In an attempt to get the conversation back in the direction she wanted it to go she added, "But everyone saw it didn''t attack them! It''s perfectly safe."


    Raiv¨ªth sniffed. "You and I have very different definitions of ''perfectly safe''. If you were any older I would have you arrested for dark magic." She glared at Ir¨ªm¨¦. "And you too, as an accomplice and for lying to me."


    All the colour drained from Ir¨ªm¨¦''s face. It was quite a feat when he was already pale to begin with.


    "However," Raiv¨ªth continued in a less severe tone, "you are both very young. I''m willing to put this down to youthful foolishness and turn a blind eye -- this time. You must both promise you will never meddle with necromancy again."


    Well, no harm in promising. Abi could find any number of loopholes in just about any promise if she tried hard enough. "I promise."


    "I promise," Ir¨ªm¨¦ mumbled.


    Raiv¨ªth eyed them both suspiciously. "I will keep a very close eye on both of you to make sure you keep your promise. And I am going to tell your parents all about this."


    Stolen novel; please report.


    Oh no, Abi thought. She turned as pale as Ir¨ªm¨¦. Mother will never let me out of her sight again.


    "Now, onto the other matter." At first Abi couldn''t imagine what she was talking about. "Attacking an unarmed person without warning is illegal, no matter what they''ve done." Oh. This was about Haliran. "You will pay the full fine of forty-four thousand w¨ªan[2] to the victim''s family."


    Abi looked up sharply. "But I haven''t got forty-four thousand w¨ªan!"


    "I know. Your parents will pay a quarter of the fine now. You will pay the rest when you come of age, and you will also repay that quarter to your parents."


    <hr>


    Two very dejected people left the Silver Palace that evening. From the looks on both their faces anyone would have thought they''d been condemned to immediate execution, instead of essentially being let off with a slap on the wrist.


    Abi sighed. "I suppose there''s no getting out of it then."


    Thank the gods, Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought. She''s given up necromancy.


    Her next words shattered that blissful illusion. "I''ll have to find a way to make money as soon as possible. You write a bit, Ir¨ªm¨¦. Do you think I could become an author?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ blinked, taken aback by this unexpected question. "I don''t know," he said dubiously. "Do you want to write?"


    "Not really. But it''s a quick way to make money, isn''t it?"


    Only someone who had never started a story in their life would say something so ignorant. All his life Ir¨ªm¨¦ had been tormented by the incurable urge to write. It was a very inconvenient gift for anyone to have. Writing required a strange mixture of solitude and support, a great deal of motivation, and preferably an audience. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had solitude, all right. But he had no support, little motivation, and no audience. He had occasionally looked into publishing. What he learnt about the process was enough to dissuade anyone from ever trying to get their writing published.


    "It takes years of practice just to write anything worth reading," he said bluntly. "Even longer to find a publisher who''ll accept it. Then you have to wait for people to read it, which they probably won''t. And the whole thing''s completely useless if you aren''t meant to write."


    Abi looked blank, as all non-writers did when writers attempted to explain this to them. Ir¨ªm¨¦ sighed and gave up.


    "I''d offer you some of my money, but I only have a small allowance from my father''s will. And a hundred w¨ªan a year from my mother. When she remembers, and when she thinks I need it." He couldn''t keep the bitterness out of his voice at that last part.


    Abi shook her head. "It''s my debt, so I''ll have to pay it off. Besides, I have the higher rank. I''m supposed to support you, not the other way round[3]."


    They walked on in gloomy silence for a while until Abi stopped abruptly.


    "I know! I can make money with necromancy!"


    Oh no. Surely not. He must have misheard. Surely she hadn''t just said... "What?"


    "With a little more practice I can communicate with the dead. Then when people want to speak to their dead relatives--"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ interrupted her. "So in other words you want to become a ghost-speaker like those fairground charlatans."


    Abi pouted. "Not exactly like that. They make up whatever they think their audience wants to hear. I''ll tell them what the dead are actually saying."


    No one would ever know how much effort it took Ir¨ªm¨¦ not to slap her in the vain hope it would knock some sense into her. "You just promised you''d never meddle in necromancy again!"


    "Define ''meddle''."


    Oh, for the love of-- He could try to reason with her. He could say yet again how necromancy was a terrible idea. But what was the point when she wouldn''t listen? Ir¨ªm¨¦ pushed past her and stalked on ahead. "I''ve had enough. I''m going to find someone sane to talk to. Let me know when you''ve come back to your senses."


    <hr>


    After the shock of the trial''s dramatic ending it took a long time for everyone to recover. Alcohol helped. So did Shizuki''s not strictly accurate but very amusing re-enactment of the look on Haliran''s face when she was thrown to the floor. Within a few hours Siarvin and Ilaran were having a much more normal conversation over drinks. Shizuki lit the fire in spite of the weather, and he and Koyuki found one thing they definitely had in common: a love of sleeping in front of a roaring fire. Snake spirits. Ilaran would never understand them.


    The sitting room was painfully stifling with that fire blazing in the hearth. Siarvin and Ilaran took refuge in the much cooler kitchen. Their conversation turned to leaving Eldrin and going back to Tananerl. Ilaran found it harder to concentrate than he expected. His thoughts kept returning to Abihira''s display in the courtroom. And from there they went to the corpse shut in the crypt.


    "What''s wrong?" Siarvin asked after Ilaran was silent for an unusually long time.


    "I was thinking about the corpse."


    Siarvin''s puzzled expression showed he hadn''t heard about that yet. Ilaran explained the situation briefly. Siarvin looked horrified by the end.


    "You mean there''s a walking corpse less than a mile away? And its creator can''t even control it?"


    Ilaran thought again of Haliran thrown around the room. Like Ir¨ªm¨¦ a few hours before he considered the sheer magical power -- and control over it -- needed for such a feat. "I think she can control it. The problem is she just doesn''t know how."


    Siarvin shuddered. "That makes it worse." Ilaran gave him a questioning look. He elaborated, "Based on what you''ve just told me we have a necromancer in the city. In our neighbourhood, no less. She can raise the dead and call them to her from a completely different part of the city. And she doesn''t even know how she did it or how to control what she calls up. Can''t you see how her experiments can go horribly wrong?"


    Ilaran thought about it. He promptly wished he hadn''t. "Well, what are we to do about it? I don''t think she''ll give up necromancy because we ask nicely. She''s obsessed with it. Besides," he remembered the ghosts in Haliran''s house, "a necromancer could be very useful in some situations."


    He''d never known Siarvin was capable of such an icy frown. "You sound just like your father. A starving vampire could be useful in some situations, but I still wouldn''t want to live near one. Mainly because I wouldn''t live very long."

 Chapter XI: Just Desserts

    People see what they wish to see. And in most cases, what they are told that they see. -- Erin Morgenstern, The Night Circus


    When you lived your entire life on the wrong side of the law you always expected it to finally catch up with you. Haliran had a dozen contingency plans in place to slip out of almost any net they tried to catch her in. She had just never expected a betrayal from such an unexpected quarter. She''d spent years making Siarvin totally dependant on her. How could he ever dare to attack her when her downfall would mean his own?


    Alas, she''d reckoned without Ilaran. He was even more trouble than his mother had ever managed to be. If she had any hope of getting out of here and staying out she''d have to get rid of him.


    Hiring an assassin was impossible when only her immediate family were allowed to visit. Getting one of her children to hire an assassin was if anything even more impossible. None of them had ever shown the necessary backbone for her line of work. She''d tried to keep them in the dark as much as possible just in case they ever turned against her. She hadn''t needed to try very hard. It was amazing how people accepted things when they''d known nothing else all their lives. It was just as amazing how they convinced themselves everything was fine in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.


    Like everything else in the Silver Palace the prison cells were ridiculously elaborate. They were less "cells" and more "very comfortable rooms", complete with their own adjoining bathrooms. It would be easy to mistake her cell for a hotel room if not for the conspicuous lack of windows, the very thick door that was locked on the outside, and the absence of anything that could be used as a weapon. All of the furniture was bolted to the floor. There was no fireplace, no wall decorations, not even a bookshelf. These cells had been built for noble prisoners, and though they might be fancy they were still obviously prisons.


    The walls were unusually thick and insulated to stop sound getting through. Haliran had no doubt the guards outside had devices to hear anything she said, but she couldn''t hear a thing. It came as a surprise when she heard someone unbolt the door. It swung open to reveal Luamon outside, next to a guard.


    "Fifteen minutes and no longer, mind," the guard said. "I''ll open the door again when time''s up."


    She closed the door and bolted it again. Haliran and Luamon stared at each other in silence for a minute.


    "How''s your arm?" Luamon asked awkwardly, with an air of not knowing what else to say.


    Haliran looked down at the cast around her arm. Whatever else you could say of the palace guards and their unwillingness to be bribed, they at least were conscientious about getting medical attention for an injured prisoner. The pain of the broken bone itself faded into insignificance compared to the humiliation of being so publicly attacked and the triumph of knowing Abihira had confirmed her accusation.


    "It will heal soon," she said.


    Both of them lapsed into silence again. Luamon opened her mouth, then closed it again without speaking. Haliran waited for her to say whatever she came to say and get it over with.


    At last Luamon found the courage to speak. "Is it true? All those things about you and Father?"


    There it was. The inevitable question. Haliran was not in the habit of examining her own actions or seeing things from someone else''s perspective. She had done what she considered necessary when she forced Siarvin to marry her. Certainly she had never thought of it as rape. If she justified it to herself at all she did it by reminding herself how na?ve Siarvin had been. What else could he expect when he was so foolish as to accept a drink from a near-total stranger?


    "Of course it isn''t true. You know as well as I that your father is, well, mentally unbalanced. Didn''t I tell you about those times he attempted suicide? I kept him away from everyone else for his own good. He can''t think clearly, and that snake Ilaran took advantage of it to plant all sorts of nonsense in his head. Don''t blame your father for this, Luamon. I''m sure he really believes everything he said. But you know he can''t be trusted. He doesn''t have a good grasp of reality."


    As Haliran expected, Luamon believed every word. She was so bewildered she would believe anything rather than face facts. It never even occurred to her to ask about Koyuki, or Shizuki, or all the evidence Siarvin presented.


    "Why would Ilaran do this?" she asked mournfully. "Why does he hate you so much?"


    Haliran shrugged. "He''s a half-breed from a backwards province. Who knows how he thinks?"


    Luamon did not look completely convinced by this reasoning. "But Father''s also from Tananerl."


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    "He''s spent so long here he''s had a chance to become civilised. Ilaran hasn''t."


    To greater or lesser degrees both Haliran and Luamon accepted that claim. When someone spent their entire life lying to others, they eventually came to believe their lies themselves. When someone spent their entire life hearing illogical excuses presented as fact, they eventually came to think the excuses were true.


    "I''ll make Ilaran leave if I have to kick him out of the city myself," Luamon said fiercely. "Then everything will go back to normal."


    Haliran internally rolled her eyes at her daughter''s stupidity. Only a fool would think this could be that easily sorted out -- or that Ilaran would ever agree to leave the city on anyone''s orders. But convincing Luamon that Ilaran was the real enemy and the mastermind of a conspiracy would prevent her thinking too much about his accusations. He could provide all the evidence he liked and Luamon at least would still never believe him even if everyone else did. Or so Haliran hoped, and so far her daughter''s behaviour confirmed her hopes.


    <hr>


    The crypt was exactly as Abi had left it the night before. She let out a breath she hadn''t known she was holding. No one had discovered the corpse yet.


    She pushed the coffin lid out of the way. It was much harder for one person to move it than it had been for three. She would have used telekinesis if the memory of how violently she''d thrown Haliran around hadn''t stopped her. The lid had to remain intact. Being thrown across the room would be very noisy and likely break it. So she had no choice but to physically push it.


    The corpse was also exactly as she''d left it. At least it hadn''t decided to go walking around the city again.


    Abi stared at it thoughtfully. Perhaps all this time she''d been going about things the wrong way. She''d tried to wake the corpses up instead of ordering them around. It had always resulted in them behaving in unexpected ways. Perhaps she should give them orders first, and then try to wake them up later.


    She gathered all her magic and pushed into the corpse''s mind. "True" telepaths, those who could control other people''s minds and thoughts without their victims knowing it, were so rare they were almost unheard of. But every immortal had some degree of telepathy. With enough effort they could get into another person''s mind. A living person would immediately be aware of the intrusion and would likely shove them out violently. Permanent mental injury could result from that. But a corpse no longer had an actual mind to speak of. Abi didn''t even expect to reach anything.


    To her own surprise she found it still had the remnants of a mind. Empty and lifeless, yes, but still there. It was like a blank slate waiting for someone to write on. Unfortunately she could find no trace of its consciousness still lingering there. Whatever happened at death completely severed some part of a person from their body, and goodness only knew how she would restore it.


    That was something to investigate some other time. Right now she needed to find out if she could actually control the corpse.


    "Come here," she ordered, backing up her words with all of the magic she knew she had.


    The corpse obligingly stepped out of the coffin and stopped in front of her. Abi hardly noticed it, too preoccupied by wondering about her magic.


    Immortals who were sufficiently familiar with magic could tell how much they had and how much they were using. Until now she had always imagined she was using all of her magic. The incident with Haliran was the first sign that she might very well have more magic than she thought. Now she sensed she did have more. It was somewhere at the back of her mind, present but just out of reach. When she tried to summon it she felt it metaphorically slip through her fingers. Oddly, it burnt when she touched it; a curiously cold burn that didn''t feel like ordinary fire.


    A thought occurred to her at that feeling. According to legend the phoenix was one of the three saridkiryel¨®r[1], and it burnt with a fire that was impossibly hot but felt icy cold. The priests and fortune tellers had always insisted she was a phoenix immortal even though there was no evidence of it. She''d always thought they''d made a mistake. Was it possible...?


    Abi pushed that thought out of her head too. All of that could wait. What she needed to focus on right now was necromancy itself.


    "Listen to me," she told the corpse. It stood up straighter and somehow managed to give the impression of listening intently. How it managed that when its face remained frozen and lifeless -- not to mention mostly hidden under the veil -- was a mystery. "I want you to do exactly as I tell you. Nod if you understand me."


    The corpse nodded solemnly. Abi forgot time and place and gave an excited cheer. She''d done it! She had finally made a walking corpse that could understand her! It wasn''t quite what she''d hoped, but it was a start.


    She opened her mouth. Then she closed it again. She turned red. In her haste to raise the dead she''d never considered what she would do with them once she raised them. It was the sort of glaringly obvious oversight that had only been overlooked at all because it was so glaringly obvious.


    "Don''t leave here unless I tell you to," she said, making her orders up on the spot. "Stay in the coffin and don''t let anyone else see you."


    Another thought struck her. Haliran would not appreciate being thrown across the room. She might very well try to get revenge on Abi for it.


    "If I''m in any danger I want you to defend me," Abi said. She neglected to mention what sort of danger, how the corpse was to defend her, or how it would even know she was in danger. "Now go back to your coffin."


    The corpse obediently turned and walked into the coffin. Abi sealed it in again.


    <hr>


    Menansierd wasn''t the only person alarmed by the day''s events. No sooner had some of Haliran''s other friends heard about her arrest than they set about covering their own tracks. Quite a few considered simply killing Ilaran and Siarvin if they had the chance. So when Menansierd contacted them they were more than happy to put her in touch with an assassin whose career -- and life -- was now in danger.


    Desperation and fright made people do exceedingly illogical things. No sane assassin would ever consider attacking someone in public, especially not in broad daylight. But that assassin panicked and decided the best thing to do was get rid of Ilaran right now.


    He set off immediately for the royal palaces.

 Chapter XII: The Idiotic Assassin

    They were also slightly less intelligent than he was. This is a quality you should always pray for in your would-be murderer. -- Terry Pratchett, Men at Arms


    Assassins were a dime a dozen in Tananerl. When someone was short of money, or intensely disliked a public figure, or felt they or their tribe weren''t being treated fairly, or were simply a bloodthirsty psychopath, they invariably chose assassination as a potentially profitable career.


    Ilaran had survived over a hundred assassination attempts in his first ten years as ruling prince. In the centuries since then he''d experienced so many more they''d become practically part of his weekly schedule. Occasionally he actually did add them to his schedule, because sometimes the only way to keep sane amidst insanity was to turn it into a joke. On those days his schedule read something like: Sign documents, meet ambassadors, kill today''s assassin, investigate latest market brawl. What other people would have thought if they knew how calmly he treated the whole thing was something he considered only when he was in dire need of something to laugh at.


    When you spent most of your life knowing someone somewhere was planning to kill you, you developed a sixth sense for when the next attempt was likely to happen. Ilaran knew perfectly well that he had essentially painted a target on his back when he had Haliran arrested. All of her accomplices would come crawling out of the woodwork looking for vengeance. And that was the very reason he knew he was perfectly safe.


    It was strange but true that most assassination attempts were carried out by disgruntled amateurs. The rare successful attempts were more cases of the murderer having unexpected good luck and their victim having even more unexpected bad luck. Even professional assassins were prone to mistakes, overconfidence, and just plain stupidity.


    Take this situation, for instance. Haliran''s friends would be panicking and running around like headless chickens. They would want him dead as quickly as possible, before he had a chance to denounce them too. Obviously they had no time to come up with a plan. He, on the other hand, expected their attack and had already considered how to deal with it.


    Ilaran wasn''t at all surprised when the first attempt came. He was mildly surprised at just how idiotic it was.


    Siarvin and Shizuki were poring over a map of Tananerl. Koyuki sat in the corner closest to the still-burning fire, with the uncomfortable air of someone who felt badly out of place and didn''t know what to do with themselves. Ilaran sat next to the window. He made sure he was just out of sight of anyone looking in, while he could still see and hear what was happening outside.


    The sitting room window overlooked a well-tended lawn that formed part of the palace gardens. The nearest tree was more than ten feet away. A carefully-trimmed hedge separated it from the lawn itself. No one could possibly approach from that angle without being spotted at once.


    Haliran''s friends were apparently even less intelligent than she was. The would-be assassin scurried across the lawn with a furtive air that would have drawn attention anywhere. They''d made a truly ludicrous attempt at disguising themselves as what might charitably be mistaken for a gardener. Far from being convincing they just looked as if they''d fallen in a mud puddle while on their way to a fancy-dress party.


    Ilaran waved Siarvin over, not daring to speak in case the assassin heard. Siarvin guessed what was happening without being told. He peered out the window, taking care to stay a safe distance away. Koyuki and Shizuki realised something interesting was afoot. In their snake forms they slithered onto the window-sill. All four watched the assassin approach.


    From his appearance it was obvious this was one of those clumsy amateurs. He was a portly middle-aged man who couldn''t have looked more suspicious if he''d tried. The very badly-concealed pistol strapped at his waist was so obvious it wasn''t even threatening. When assassins hid their weapons then they posed a mild challenge. Ilaran took one look at the gun and rolled his eyes. Of all the absurd weapons to kill someone with! Knives and arrows were silent, poison was insidious and gave the killer a chance to escape, drowning could be passed off as an unfortunate accident. But guns! They were the noisiest, most conspicuous method of killing someone that could be imagined. And they couldn''t even be easily hidden in the way a knife could.


    Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face. Siarvin gave him an incredulous look.


    He whispered, "Are you enjoying this?"


    "Other people''s stupidity is always entertaining," Ilaran murmured.


    The man took his gun out of its holster. It promptly slipped out of his hands. Ilaran didn''t even try to hide his grin.


    "He''s planning to kill us," Siarvin said, in the tone of one who was gradually realising they were the only sane person in the room.


    "He will fail. Look at him!"


    The man had finally managed to pick up the gun and aim it at the window. Koyuki and Shizuki quickly reconsidered their choice of vantage-points. They slithered off the window-sill and took cover under the table. Siarvin and Ilaran retreated to the other side of the room.


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    Siarvin rubbed his eyes. "Is he really going to shoot through a window... into a darkened room... without even checking we''re here?"


    Ilaran shrugged. "Obviously. We''re in more danger from broken glass than from him."


    Right on cue the man fired the gun. The window shattered into a thousand fragments. Ilaran telekinetically shoved them all to the floor before they could hurt anyone. The sound of running footsteps showed the man was getting away.


    A long black snake darted out from under the table and disappeared through the now-glassless window. It was quickly followed by a shorter green one. A high-pitched shriek showed Koyuki and Shizuki had caught the would-be assassin.


    <hr>


    It was all very well for Ir¨ªm¨¦ to say he was going to talk to someone saner than Abi. The problem with that, he realised a few minutes later, was that he didn''t know many people who fit that description.


    Kitri? He barely knew her. Kiriyuki? He knew her even less. Abi''s siblings? The mere thought made him shudder. The servants? They owed no loyalty to him and would gossip about anything he said. His mother? Oh gods no. So there was only one person left: Ilaran.


    True, he didn''t know Ilaran very well either. They had only met a few days ago, after all. But when someone helped you hide a walking corpse, you quickly found yourself thinking of them as a very good friend even if you''d never exchanged more than two words before. Besides, he could use this as an opportunity to ask Ilaran about something he''d been considering for many years. So he set off for Gihimayel Palace.


    He stopped to ask the guard for directions. It turned out there were a surprising number of visiting nobles staying at Gihimayel Palace. He had assumed it was reserved solely for diplomats and royals and was therefore virtually empty. In fact the place was nearly full with the empress''s distant cousins and people with no relation to her at all.


    "Which Ilaran?" the guard asked. "There were seventeen here last time I checked."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ blinked. He''d known Ilaran was a common name[1], but hadn''t realised it was that common. "I mean Prince Ilaran of Tananerl."


    "Oh, that Ilaran! Turn right over there and--"


    An ear-splitting bang interrupted the guard. She and Ir¨ªm¨¦ jumped in unison.


    "What was that?" the other guard asked, poking his head out of the guardhouse while still trying to drink his cup of tea.


    The first guard ran in the direction of the sound without stopping to answer him. Ir¨ªm¨¦ followed. He ignored the niggling little voice that warned him running towards mysterious sounds might not be the wisest thing to do.


    He and the guard rounded the corner just in time to see a man running for his life. Two strange shapes pursued him. At first Ir¨ªm¨¦''s brain couldn''t make sense of what his eyes were seeing. The shapes looked like... garden hoses?


    "Out of the way!" the man screamed at them.


    One of his strange pursuers caught up with him as he drew closer. It wound itself around his legs, tripping him and flinging him to the ground. With a shudder Ir¨ªm¨¦ realised what it was: a huge black snake. It bit the man''s arm. The other snake bit his other arm. He let out an anguished howl.


    The guard finally recovered from her shock. She sprang into action at once.


    "Get away, you brutes!" she yelled at the snakes, drawing her sword and waving it around her head.


    The snakes reared up and hissed at her. She turned pale and took a step back. For want of anything better to do Ir¨ªm¨¦ waved his arms at them.


    "Shoo! Shoo!" he shouted, as if he was shooing a stray dog away.


    To his own surprise they meekly turned and slithered away. Within seconds they disappeared into the grass.


    By now the other guard had arrived. Judging by the cup in his hand and the tea-stains on his uniform he had attempted to finish his tea while running. The two of them picked up the man and dragged him off towards the gate. One of them shouted at the top of her lungs for a doctor.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked round to make sure the snakes weren''t still around. He came face-to-face with the little boy who''d appeared at the trial. Ir¨ªm¨¦ yelped and jumped back.


    Where did he come from?


    The boy stared up at him through eerily unblinking eyes. Rather snake-like eyes. In fact everything about him was rather snake-like.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ remembered the giant snake threatening Haliran. He remembered it turning into this boy. And he remembered the colour of one of the snakes that had attacked the man a few minutes ago. He paled.


    The boy peered up at him curiously. "You smell funny."


    Under any other circumstances Ir¨ªm¨¦ would have assumed that was a personal insult. Coming from a boy who could turn into a snake at will, it seemed less insulting and just plain weird. "Er... What do you mean?"


    "You smell like a snake," the boy said slowly, "but not like a snake."


    That made no sense at all. Ir¨ªm¨¦ tried to figure it out before giving the whole thing up as a lost cause.


    "Is Ilaran at home?" he asked instead, more to get the conversation back to something resembling normality than because he needed an answer.


    The boy nodded. He grabbed Ir¨ªm¨¦''s arm and dragged him towards the door a short distance away. Ir¨ªm¨¦ went without protest. He didn''t particularly want to be bitten too. Especially not when he didn''t know if the man would survive the snake-bites.


    The door swung open just as they reached it. Ir¨ªm¨¦ wasn''t really surprised to see it was one of the men Ilaran had brought to the trial -- Koyuki, or something like that. He was surprised by the man''s reaction. Koyuki''s eyes widened and he stared at the boy in horror.


    "Shizuki! Let go of him at once!"


    "Why?" the boy asked.


    Koyuki pulled him away from Ir¨ªm¨¦, looking as if he''d seen a ghost. He hissed something in Shizuki''s ear that sounded oddly like "show proper respect" and "dragon immortal". So many strange things had happened in the last few minutes that Ir¨ªm¨¦ shrugged and dismissed that from his mind.


    "What''s happening out there? Another assassin?" Ilaran appeared in the doorway behind Koyuki. "Oh, it''s you. What''s she done now?"


    That question conjured up horrible ideas of what Abi might be doing right now. Ir¨ªm¨¦ shuddered and hoped he wouldn''t go home to find the place overrun with zombies.


    "She''s being an idiot again," he said, which was vague enough to cover just about everything and almost certainly accurate too. Then the other part of Ilaran''s remarks sank in. "Wait, what do you mean, another assassin?"


    Ilaran sighed. "It''s a long story. You''d better come in before another of those idiots comes along and shoots you by mistake."

 Chapter XIII: Job-Seeking

    I must be taken as I have been made. The success is not mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me. -- Charles Dickens, Great Expectations


    It usually took Ir¨ªm¨¦ only a few minutes to decide what he thought of someone and whether they were trustworthy or not. It was an survival skill he had developed very early in life, made essential by three facts. One, his mother was notoriously neglectful and dismissive of his feelings, and had a habit of showing him off to her friends as a future member of the royal family. Two, her menagerie cost money, more money than her income, so she constantly invited richer people to her dinner parties without any regard for their character. Three, as his mother was so fond of reminding everyone, he was... Well, unusually beautiful to put it bluntly, even though the thought made his skin crawl. Not because of his looks on their own, but because of how certain adults behaved towards him because of them.


    While still just a child he had developed the ability to sense when someone was an ordinary, decent person and when they were a pervert waiting for him to let his guard down. He had encountered far too many of the latter sort to ever feel comfortable in large groups of people. As an extension of that, by watching someone when they didn''t know they were being watched he had learnt how to make an educated guess at their general character. Therefore he knew no one here was a threat to him -- even if they were a threat to others. And that was why he was so confused when he finally met Siarvin face-to-face.


    Basic decency said that someone who murdered a baby was the vilest of the vile. Yet as Ir¨ªm¨¦ watched Siarvin out of the corner of his eye, he saw only a perfectly normal man who treated Shizuki like his own son and was polite -- if somewhat cold and distant -- towards Koyuki. For several minutes Ir¨ªm¨¦ tried to reconcile what he saw with what Ilaran had told him about Haliran''s first child and its tragic fate. He failed. In despair he gave up and moved on to the other three.


    Shizuki was the easiest to understand. Snake spirit or not, he was just a normal child. A bit more blood-thirsty than most, perhaps, but considering his upbringing that was hardly surprising. Then again, Ir¨ªm¨¦ had met plenty of children who adored anything full of blood and gore. So perhaps Shizuki''s excited descriptions of how much the bitten man bled wasn''t entirely thanks to Haliran''s influence.


    It took Ir¨ªm¨¦ only a minute''s observation to tell Koyuki was uneasy here and felt badly out-of-place. He carefully avoided looking at Siarvin -- or anyone else for that matter -- if he could help it. In Ir¨ªm¨¦''s experience that was usually the sign of someone with a guilty conscience. He stopped himself before jumping to any rash conclusions about Koyuki hiding something from Ilaran. What he''d heard at the trial was a good enough explanation of it. Anyone would have a guilty conscience after sleeping with a married woman, acting as a spy in the house of one of her enemies, and hiding stolen goods for her.


    Besides, if the events in the crypt and the courtroom had proved anything, it was that Ilaran was no fool. Eccentric and with a flair for the dramatic, yes, but not a fool. If even Ir¨ªm¨¦ had noticed Koyuki''s behaviour, then Ilaran certainly had.


    And that brought him to the last member of this strange group. After their dramatic previous meetings Ilaran should have been the easiest to figure out. Instead Ir¨ªm¨¦ found himself unexpectedly baffled. The only new thing he''d learnt about Ilaran in the last few minutes was that he found assassination attempts bizarrely entertaining. That was the sort of weirdness Ir¨ªm¨¦ would expect from Abi, not from someone who had previously seemed sane and relatively normal.


    It didn''t help that Ilaran listened to the others'' conversation with a disturbingly blank expression. Ir¨ªm¨¦ couldn''t guess what he was thinking. He wasn''t even sure he was thinking of anything at all. A few unpleasant past experiences had taught Ir¨ªm¨¦ to be wary of anyone who was so hard to read. Yet he already knew Ilaran was... "Trustworthy" was the wrong word when he knew Ilaran was here for his own reasons and would act in his own best interests. But for the minute at least they were on the same side. And that state of affairs was likely to continue for some time.


    That reminded Ir¨ªm¨¦ of what he had been planning to ask. Yes, there was the chance he would just exchange one set of problems for another. But he was sick to death of living with his mother, and right now putting up with Abi for much longer was the last thing he wanted.


    "Er, Ilaran?" he began, then stopped. What was the best way to continue?


    Ilaran looked over at him with a bemused expression, as if he''d forgotten Ir¨ªm¨¦ was there. "What is it?"


    "I was wondering..." Ir¨ªm¨¦ stopped again. None of his favourite books or operas gave him any advice on how to ask this sort of question. But then, none of their heroes ever had to go begging for work. They generally had enough money to not need to do any work at all. "Would... Would you give me a job?"


    Ilaran blinked slowly. His expression reverted to blankness, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking again. But this time Ir¨ªm¨¦ was almost sure it was because his mind really had gone as blank as his face. "...What?"


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    Well, it wasn''t a blunt ''no''. Ir¨ªm¨¦ took courage from that and continued. "You see, I''m still living in my mother''s house. But I''ve had enough of it. She treats me like a child!"


    "You are still very young," Ilaran pointed out.


    "But she behaves as if I can''t think for myself! She chooses my friends for me, chooses what books I''m allowed to read, chooses where I''m allowed to go and how much money she''ll let me have. I can''t keep a diary any more because she read it and when she didn''t like what I said she yelled at me for hours. I have to hide my writing because she found some of my stories and complained they were too dark. She drags me along to meet all her horrible friends. She never even listened when I tried to tell her I don''t like the way the look at me! She told me I was imagining it and-- and--"


    To his horror Ir¨ªm¨¦ found his eyes burning and a tell-tale tightness at the back of his throat. Surely he wasn''t going to start crying! That was all he needed! Especially after he''d already embarrassed himself by ranting like that in front of complete strangers.


    It was no use. For years and years he had buried all his bitterness and helplessness deep inside. They burned and festered there like a wound that couldn''t heal. Now they were finally aired in public, and for the first time he allowed himself to feel all the pain and helplessness he had kept suppressed. He couldn''t stop the tears that streamed down his face.


    He choked back his sobs and struggled to regain control. The tears gradually stopped. Ir¨ªm¨¦ took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes.


    "Sorry," he muttered, not daring to look up. His face turned bright red. What an exhibition to make of himself!


    "It''s all right," Ilaran said quietly. He sounded oddly subdued. "I won''t say I understand. I don''t, because I haven''t experienced it. But for what it''s worth, I do understand how miserable life is in a dysfunctional family."


    The other side of the sitting room was oddly quiet. Ir¨ªm¨¦ risked a glance towards the table and was surprised to see Siarvin, Koyuki and Shizuki had disappeared. Muffled voices out in the hallway indicated where they''d gone. Well, at least he''d been spared some humiliation. Not much, but it was better than them being there the whole time.


    "So," Ilaran said, with the air of someone changing an unpleasant subject, "what sort of job do you want?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s head snapped up. He stared incredulously at Ilaran, searching for any trace he was being mocked. Nothing. Impossible though it seemed, Ilaran looked completely serious.


    "I... I can write very quickly." That was an essential skill when you had only a few minutes of peace to write in each day. "And I''m good at organising things." He''d learnt years ago it was best to memorise where all his belongings should be and put everything in its assigned place. Then he could tell at once if someone had searched them. "I think I could be a good scribe or librarian."


    As soon as the words were out of his mouth he realised how stupid he was being. A ruling prince like Ilaran would already have all the scribes and librarians he needed. Ir¨ªm¨¦ blushed again. But to his surprise Ilaran nodded thoughtfully.


    "Kivoduin''s nagged me about the state of the palace archives for years," he said. "Would you mind sorting out endless minutes of council meetings full of trivial gossip? I warn you, it''s terribly boring work."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mind replayed those words several times before he understood their meaning. His first instinct was to ask incredulously, Are you really offering me a job? After I cried like a baby? He stopped himself before he said that. Unfortunately he spoke without consulting his brain, so what he actually said wasn''t much less embarrassing. "I don''t care how boring it is as long as you pay me well."


    Ilaran actually laughed at that. A genuinely amused laugh, not the sarcastic laugh he''d used in response to Haliran''s ridiculous attempts to defend herself. He looked much younger and less grim when he laughed. No one would ever call him pretty[1], but he wasn''t quite as plain as he seemed at other times. Ir¨ªm¨¦ blinked and revised his idea of how old Ilaran was. Until now he''d assumed he was at least as old as Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mother. Now he wondered if that estimate was too high.


    "You do know I live in Tananerl?" Ilaran said. "Do you have any objections to moving there? You''d have your own room in the palace, in the east wing with the other court officials."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ did some mental calculation of how far Tananerl was from Neleth Ancalen. He smiled. It was over five hundred miles as the gryphon flies. "I don''t care where I live as long as I''m far away from my family."


    "How old are you?" Ilaran asked, unknowingly echoing Ir¨ªm¨¦''s thoughts a few minutes ago.


    "One thousand, six hundred and ninety-seven[2]," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said.


    Ilaran was silent for a moment. That strange blank expression was back, only now his brow was ever so slightly furrowed. Ir¨ªm¨¦ was beginning to suspect the blankness was just Ilaran''s natural resting face rather than a conscious attempt to conceal his thoughts.


    "Legally you''re of age and old enough not to be required to inform your mother before getting a job," he said. "But in the interest of not making a bad situation worse and causing what would likely become a very unpleasant argument, I think I''d better explain this to her."


    Long and painful experience of his mother prompted Ir¨ªm¨¦ to say, "You''d better not. Else she''ll try to get you to pay my wages to her."


    "I think it would be for the best if I did."


    What?


    Seeing the look on Ir¨ªm¨¦''s face, Ilaran explained, "It''s how we do things in Tananerl. When someone starts a new job their employer must provide their family with a tenth of their wages to show they can afford to keep a new employee. And since you told me your mother is constantly short of money, she''s much less likely to complain about you getting a job if she gets some money out of it too."


    You''ll need to pay her a lot more than a tenth of my wages to stop her complaining, Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought. "How much will you pay me?"


    "Eight hundred mergin[3] a year. That''s the usual wage for an archivist." Ilaran paused, apparently doing some mental calculations. "If your mother lived in Tananerl I''d give her eighty mergin, but as she lives in Saoridhl¨¦m I''ll have to check the exchange rate."


    He muttered something that sounded like "Twice-damned arithmetic." Ir¨ªm¨¦ suppressed a smile and pretended not to hear.


    "I know a magistrate who can draw up the contract for us[4]," he said. "Shall I get her now?"


    "You might as well," Ilaran said. "And I''ll go and talk to your mother."


    From his voice anyone would have thought he''d just offered to walk into a basilisk''s den.

 Chapter XIV: A Misunderstanding

    ...we become like the fiends in hell, who may feel remorse, but never repentance. -- Sir Walter Scott, Ivanhoe


    Life in Saoridhl¨¦m in general was proverbially exciting. Life in the capital was naturally said to be even more so. Many a youngster on Muirus 9436 who had never even left their home planet dreamt eagerly of the day they could travel to Vanerth. Saoridhl¨¦m was the most popular setting for novels. Almost every serialised story took its main characters to the glittery, glamourous city of Eldrin.


    Kitri had always known the fictionalised version of the city featured in those books was as different from reality as chalk was from cheese. True, she wasn''t originally from the city. But she knew it well enough to find the novels highly amusing. She had gone to school in Eldrin, after all. The city was only glittery on festival days. And it would be hard to imagine a less glamourous place than anywhere frequented by university students during term-time -- especially exam-time. There was nothing glamourous about wan, harried figures hunched over their textbooks in all sorts of strange places.


    Her latest visit to the city was by far the worst. If life in Eldrin was this exciting, she would happily be bored for the rest of her life. Sea serpents! Walking corpses! Her childhood friend being publicly revealed as a necromancer!


    Speaking of that childhood friend -- who Kitri sometimes wished she had never met or even heard of -- she had mysteriously disappeared. A few rumours said she''d gone back to the palace. They were followed by claims she was thrown in the dungeon alongside the creature she''d justifiably attacked. (Kitri flatly refused to refer to a piece of trash like Haliran as a person. Frankly Abihira''s actions at the end of the trial were the most defensible actions she''d taken recently.) Be that as it may, Kitri dismissed those rumours as nonsense. Abi would never go back to the palace after what had just happened. Even if she did, the empress would never throw her in prison for it.


    A handful of other rumours said she had packed up and run away. That didn''t make much sense either. Where would she run to? Still others -- spread exclusively by people who had not been present in the courtroom -- claimed she had spontaneously disappeared after attacking Haliran.


    In short no one knew where Abi was. Kitri, however, could make an educated guess.


    After the drama at the royal court she set off for her hotel room. She urgently needed a cup of tea before she could bear any more insanity.


    On the way out of the palace she bumped into Princess Kiriyuki. At first Kitri didn''t recognise her. The princess looked as if she''d seen a ghost.


    She should be used to Abi''s special brand of chaos by now, Kitri thought. Even so, she stopped to try to reassure the princess. No one knew better than her how shocking Abi''s antics could be even when you expected them. The incident of the walking dead in the market would forever haunt her memory.


    "Don''t worry, your Highness," she said politely. Perhaps it was a breach of protocol to approach a foreign royal so casually and without a formal introduction. But Kitri was used to dealing with all sorts of royals and those who claimed to be royal. It only occurred to her afterwards that she might have broken some rule. "Abihira can wriggle out of anything. She won''t be in serious trouble for long."


    Silently she added, More''s the pity.


    Kiriyuki made an attempt to look more cheerful. It was a very poor attempt when she still looked pallid and shaken. Kitri politely didn''t point that out.


    "I''m not worried about her," Kiriyuki said. "I just need a drink."


    Who doesn''t? Kitri thought. "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?"


    <hr>


    How had an invitation to have tea turned into a raid on the hotel''s bar? Kitri didn''t know. She also didn''t care enough to figure it out. Especially not when her head was swimming and the table moved around far more than any inanimate object should.


    Kiriyuki wasn''t in a much better state. After the first two bottles of jarage[1] she began to complain about her uncle. Most of what she said was in Seroyawan with only a few words of barely-comprehensible Saoridhin. Kitri understood only that Kiriyuki''s uncle was terrifying. She could sympathise; she had a few terrifying older relatives herself. She started to tell Kiriyuki about her horrifying Aunt Nuashil. After the fourth bottle her story trailed off into gibberish. Half-way through the fifth bottle Kitri fell asleep at the table.


    Icy water crashed down on her head. Kitri awoke with a screech. She flailed her arms and legs, instinctively trying to swim, and only succeeded in knocking over the table. Kiriyuki sat bolt upright. She grabbed the closest thing to hand to defend herself. Unfortunately it was a cushion from the chair beside her. Kiriyuki, still not fully awake or quite sober, stared blankly at it as if she''d never seen a cushion before.


    Kitri''s soaked hair clung to her face like a determined octopus. She pushed it out of the way, rubbed her eyes until she stopped seeing two Kiriyukis holding two cushions, and took stock of the situation. Her eyes narrowed. She turned around slowly with her fiercest glare. hoping to put the fear of the gods into the prankster responsible. Probably it was some other patron of the hotel bar who''d also overindulged in their strongest drinks. What a pity that they, unlike Kitri and Kiriyuki, were the sort of person who''d do stupid things instead of just going to sleep after too much to drink.


    At first she saw no one behind her at all. Kitri blinked and rubbed her eyes again. Then someone poked their head out from behind the settee a short distance away. For a minute Kitri thought she was still dreaming. There were plenty of people she''d expect to play a joke like that. This wasn''t one of them.


    "Ir¨ªm¨¦?"


    If it was Arafaren she would have expected it. If it was Abihira she wouldn''t have been a bit surprised. But Ir¨ªm¨¦! What was the world coming to?


    Kitri shook her head sadly. He''s spent too long around Abi. She''s rubbed off on him.


    "I''m sorry," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said. "I tried to wake you, but you were too drunk. So I had to get a bucket of water."


    Kitri spluttered indignantly. "I was not drunk! I was just tired."


    Behind her Kiriyuki had gone back to sleep. She snored peacefully, oblivious to everything around her. Unlike Kitri she had been lucky enough not to get drenched by the water.


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    "Of course," Ir¨ªm¨¦ agreed. He sounded more like someone who was accepting an explanation to prevent an argument than because he believed it. "Sorry to interrupt your sleep. You''re a magistrate, aren''t you? I need you to draw up a contract."


    Four and a half bottles of jarage would dull the intellect of the most intelligent person in the empire. Not even an hour''s sleep and a bucket of water thrown over her head could shake off all its effects. Kitri''s mind was still slow and sluggish. She heard the words "magistrate" and "contract" spoken by someone who she knew mainly as her friend''s future husband. Naturally she jumped to what seemed to her to be the most obvious conclusion: a marriage contract.


    He still wants to marry Abi after everything? Kitri thought in confusion. "What, now?"


    "Yes, before my mother objects and demands more money."


    Why would his mother object? Everyone knew how excited she was to have a royal daughter-in-law. For that matter, why would she demand money now when she would only have a right to it after the wedding?


    "Isn''t this very sudden?" Kitri asked, bemused. "Aren''t you even going to have a proper ceremony?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked at her as if she''d started speaking a foreign language. "Ceremony? Who needs a ceremony?"


    Technically he was right. Wedding ceremonies weren''t legally required; all that was needed was for a couple to sign a contract and say their vows in front of a priest of Daisd¨ªer[2]. In practice, of course, anyone who actually got married without a full ceremony and at least two hundred guests would be looked down on by their family, their wider community, and just about anyone who ever heard of it. Even worse it came with the implication of a hastily-concealed scandal.


    Kitri warned him, "People will talk. I suppose this is Abi''s latest bright idea. It''s just as bad as her others."


    "Abi has nothing to do with it," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said, sounding as if she was the one talking nonsense. "She doesn''t even know yet. I can''t find her."


    What in the name of all the gods? "You''re going to leave her?" Kitri would have been furious about her friend being so casually abandoned if she wasn''t so hopelessly confused.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ now looked as if she''d sprouted a second head. "Er, yes? She lives here, not in Tananerl. Anyway, it''s between me and Ilaran."


    If she had been more sober Kitri would have realised by now that they were having two very different conversations. Unfortunately she was still half-drunk and had the idea of a marriage certificate firmly stuck in her head. "You''re going to marry Ilaran?"


    There was a long, awkward silence. Ir¨ªm¨¦''s expression went from incredulous to horrified to resigned.


    With a sigh he said, "We''d better start from the beginning. I think there''s been a misunderstanding somewhere."


    <hr>


    Not even Haliran could complain about how comfortable the Silver Palace''s cells were. She could however complain about how unbearably boring her imprisonment was. So far she''d had two visitors: Luamon and her housekeeper. The latter''s visit could hardly be called that. She mainly wanted to ask if Haliran had specific instructions for how the household was to be run in her absence.


    None of her other children came to see her. None of her friends dared show their faces. The empress hadn''t summoned her yet or sent a lawyer to talk to her. She had no books to read, no records to listen to, not even a board to play Chiormurth[3].


    For want of anything better to do she made up complicated arithmetic problems and solved them as slowly as possible. She had no paper to do her maths on, so she assigned numbers to the patterns on the wallpaper. That made the first few hours pass with relative speed. She was in the middle of a long division sum when the door opened.


    Haliran looked up without much interest. It was probably just the guard delivering her dinner. Yet when the guard opened the door fully, she saw she had no tray in her hands.


    "Only fifteen minutes, remember," the guard said to someone Haliran couldn''t see. "I''ll unlock the door when the time''s up."


    The still-unseen person said, "Thank you."


    Haliran sat bolt upright in her chair. She knew that voice as well as she knew her own.


    Siarvin stepped into the room. The guard closed the door behind him. Profound silence fell. The only sound was the key turning in the lock.


    The two of them stared at each other for a long minute. Neither spoke. For the first time Haliran looked at Siarvin, really looked at him, and realised how much he''d changed. He had been beautiful once, all those years ago when she''d first seen him. Beautiful and so na?ve. The latter was one of the main reasons she had chosen to marry him. But the first had played a part in her decision too. Now all his beauty had faded. His na?vet¨¦ had been destroyed long before. There was nothing but coldness and fury in his eyes now.


    I did this, Haliran thought. There was no true remorse or guilt in her thoughts. Just surprise, and the tiniest whisper of something that might have been regret.


    She wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Had she changed as much?


    At last Siarvin spoke. He spoke conversationally, as if only commenting on the weather. "I used to be afraid of you."


    Haliran stared at him silently.


    "I thought you couldn''t really be a person. You must be some demon sent to torment me. Do you know when I stopped fearing you?" He didn''t wait for an answer. "That day you were thrown from your horse."


    That had happened so long ago it took Haliran a long time to remember what he was talking about. Siarvin continued while she still puzzled over it. His next words brought the whole horrible experience back to her.


    "Your leg was broken so badly the bone tore right through the skin[4]. I watched the doctor push the bone back into place and stitch up the wound. I watched you scream. Even the painkillers weren''t enough to put you completely to sleep. And then I realised, you were experiencing some of what you did to me. I hadn''t known you were able to feel pain until then." He smiled. It was nothing like a living man''s smile and more like the contorted grimace of a corpse starting to decompose. "I stayed with you the whole time you were recovering. I fed you, cleaned your wound, and helped you stand."


    Yes, he had done all of that. Back then she''d thought it was kindness or even devotion. A sign of how he''d accepted his life with her. Suddenly she wasn''t so sure.


    "Every day of those months I thought about how much pain you were in. I replayed your screams as I watched you sleep. I loved them." His smile slowly faded. The cold, emotionless indifference that replaced it was ten times worse. "But you didn''t suffer enough. So many times I imagined killing you then. But none of them were slow or painful enough. Do you know what I did then?"


    He took a step towards her. Then another, and another, until he was right in front of her. There was nothing in his eyes at all as he gazed down at her.


    "I made a plan. I decided I''d play the caged and broken bird for as long as I had to. I''d make you believe I could never turn against you. Then, when you were most secure, I''d destroy you." He sighed morosely. "But my plan failed. I had so many opportunities. Every time I put it off. Eventually I realised I could never do it on my own. I''d played my part so well I''d become it against my will. If Ilaran hadn''t come everything would still be exactly the same."


    Siarvin turned away and looked around at her cell. "You ruined my life. But you see, I ruined yours too." He looked back when Haliran scoffed. That horrible smile was back. "Think about it, dear." She''d never realised a term of endearment could sound so poisonous. "Think of all the money you lost. Your friends cheated you, didn''t they? Think of all your associates who were caught. They just weren''t clever enough, were they? Think of all the times your plans collapsed around you. You overlooked something, didn''t you?"


    His hand closed around Haliran''s shoulder like an iron vice. "No. I did all of that. When you had no one else to turn to, you came crying to me. And I listened so sympathetically, while I laughed and laughed inside. I wasn''t able to directly act against you. But I stored up everything you ever said and repeated it to Ilaran." He let go of her and stepped back. "Your home will be a cell for the rest of your life. Your reputation is shattered beyond repair. Your crimes are in the newspapers of the most distant parts of the empire. And when they drag you out to the execution platform, when the executioner swings the sword, remember I sent you there. Not Ilaran, not your other victims, me."


    The guard unlocked the door. "Time''s up."


    Siarvin looked at Haliran. Haliran looked at Siarvin. For once their usual positions were reversed. She stared up at him in fear and rage. He looked down at her as if she was no more than the dirt beneath his feet. He turned and left without another word.


    The door slammed closed behind him.

 Chapter XV: The Gathering Storm

    Are you scared to see what lies beneath?


    Behind these artificial teeth?


    -- Aviators, Masks


    In his time as ruling prince Ilaran had met all sorts of loathsome people. Monsters like Haliran were few and far between. Much more common were ordinary immortals who never did anything truly reprehensible, whose only thought was of bettering themselves or their family, but who were thoroughly disgusting specimens anyway. Money-grabbers and social-climbers were among the most unpleasant. Especially those who used their children as pawns for their own advancement.


    Many people back in Tananerl threw themselves or their daughters at him in hopes he would marry one of them -- or at least bed them and then have to pay their parents to prevent a scandal. When he refused all of them they changed tactics and started throwing their sons at him. All of those attempts failed too. He had stated repeatedly he had no interest in men or women, but they never listened. One of his more petty motives for this trip was to have a break from social-climbers and their incessant attempts to trap him into marriage.


    It was just his luck that he stumbled upon one here too. Kumolnea honestly seemed disappointed that he was offering Ir¨ªm¨¦ a job and not taking him as a lover. She even had the audacity to make thinly-veiled suggestions that was his real intention. Any decent parent who harboured such suspicions would have questioned him to within an inch of his life, likely challenged him to a duel, probably would call the police, and certainly would never have let Ir¨ªm¨¦ go anywhere with him. Kumolnea''s main concern seemed to be if she would get something out of it, with only the most token comment about Ir¨ªm¨¦''s safety and honour.


    A little voice at the back of his head -- which sounded oddly like Kivoduin giving him a disappointed look and starting one of her lectures -- reminded him that throwing something at her head would not look good when the newspapers got wind of it.


    Very rarely had Ilaran been so glad to get away from someone in his life. He felt rather as if he''d spent the last half-hour in a snake''s coils and had only just managed to escape. No, wait; that was insulting to snakes everywhere. She was more like a shark.


    I''m not surprised Ir¨ªm¨¦''s so eager to leave that horrible woman, he thought.


    Now he just had to find Ir¨ªm¨¦ and sign the contract before Kumolnea got it into her head to demand more money.


    <hr>


    "Let me be sure I understand you." Kitri was almost certain she''d interpreted everything correctly this time. Even so the memory of her humiliating mistake earlier made her wary of accepting anything without making sure her interpretation was right. "You''re going to work for Ilaran as an archivist."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ nodded.


    "And you are not breaking off your betrothal to Abihira."


    "Of course not. Why would I?"


    Kitri could think of a few very good reasons. They included walking corpses, necromancy, experiments of dubious morality, necromancy, a blatant disregard for other people''s wishes, necromancy, an inability to accept good advice, and did she mention necromancy?


    "And I most certainly am not going to marry Ilaran," Ir¨ªm¨¦ added in a tone somewhere between emphatic and sarcastic.


    It looked like she''d never be allowed to live that down. All right, so it was a stupid mistake. Alcohol tended to cause those. And it wasn''t as if Ir¨ªm¨¦ hadn''t made some equally embarrassing mistakes in the past. Kitri didn''t know what precisely his mistakes might have been, but they were bound to have happened. Everyone misunderstood something at some point in their lives.


    "All right, then. Wait here while I go and get a sheet of paper and my vashad[1]."


    While they were talking Kiriyuki had gradually awakened. She blinked owlishly at them during this conversation. Ir¨ªm¨¦ sat down opposite her as Kitri turned to leave. She had just taken a few steps away from the table when she heard Kiriyuki say, "What''s this about you marrying Ilaran? You''re engaged to my sister."


    Kitri didn''t have to look round to know Ir¨ªm¨¦ was glaring at her. The burning sensation in her back was all the proof she needed of how fierce his glare was. She fled from the hotel''s restaurant as if a horde of demons -- or Abi''s creations -- were after her.


    <hr>


    In spite of what certain people thought -- and for "certain people" read "everyone who had the misfortunate to meet her in one of her stubborn moods" -- Abi was capable of having second thoughts about something. And third thoughts, and even fourth thoughts. The mere idea of going home and facing the music was something she was currently having eighth thoughts about.


    Logically she knew she couldn''t hide in the crypt forever. She would have to listen to her parents'' lecture at some point. That didn''t make the thought of it any more appealing.


    She started towards the house. Then she changed her mind and turned back towards the crypt. She''d only taken a few steps before she changed her mind once again and set off for the house. Over and over again she did this. Not once did she get very far towards either the house or the crypt.


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    During the ninth repetition of this strange back-and-forth march she heard something that mercifully took her mind off her indecision. Voices. Two voices, to be exact. And she recognised both of them.


    Abi looked round just in time to see Kitri and Ir¨ªm¨¦ appear around the corner. Kitri was carrying what appeared to be a portable desk and a sheaf of papers. Ir¨ªm¨¦ clutched a small wooden box to his chest as if it was the most priceless thing he''d ever held. Both of them stopped when they saw her. Kitri looked over her shoulder with the air of one who was seriously contemplating making a run for it.


    "What are you doing?" Abi asked, stared at their odd paraphernalia. The only purpose she could think of for those things was writing a letter. A lengthy letter, judging by the amount of paper. But who would drag their writing equipment around with them when they could just sit down at home and write in peace?


    "I''m getting a job," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said.


    "Good for you. But what has that got to do with," she waved at the things they were carrying, "all this?"


    Kitri sighed and adjusted her grip on the writing table -- if that was what it was. "Ir¨ªm¨¦''s going to work for Ilaran. I''m going to draw up the contract. What are you doing?"


    She looked around suspiciously, as if she expected a horde of undead monsters to burst out of the hedge beside the pavement. Never mind that everyone knew the crypt was behind them and not on the other side of the hedge.


    "Ilaran lives in Tananerl," Abi said, bemused. "How can you work for him when you live--" The obvious solution struck her as she spoke. "Oh. I hope you like life in Tananerl. At least you''ll be far away from your mother."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ smiled. "I''ll like living there precisely because of that."


    "Can we hurry up?" Kitri asked. "This box is heavy, you know."


    Abi eyed the box curiously. "What''s in that?"


    "Ink, blotting paper, pens, writing paper. And these," she tried to gesture to the papers she was holding. Unfortunately all she succeeded in doing was almost dropping them all over the ground. "These are templates of different employment contracts so I''ll know what to write. Ir¨ªm¨¦''s carrying my vashad and wax."


    What a lot of stuff to carry around, Abi thought. "Doesn''t Ilaran have ink and paper of his own?"


    Kitri rolled her eyes and counted to ten in a stage whisper. Abi felt mildly insulted. What an overreaction to a perfectly good question!


    "The law requires specific sorts of ink and paper," Kitri said. "No, it doesn''t make sense. No, I don''t know why someone made that law. If you''ve nothing better to do than stand around asking questions, why don''t you take some of these papers for me?"


    <hr>


    Ilaran''s rooms were all in darkness when the three of them arrived. Faint voices inside told them someone was at home, even though none of the lights were on. The sitting room window had been hastily boarded up. A workman was hammering the last few nails into place as they approached.


    "What happened there?" Abi asked, staring at the board.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ grimaced. "An assassin tried to kill someone. I think Shizuki and Koyuki killed him. They bit him, anyway."


    Kitri stared at him in horror. "Biting an assassin? What are these friends of Ilaran''s -- vampires?"


    "No, just snake spirits."


    Kitri did not look reassured by this. She looked even less reassured when Ir¨ªm¨¦ knocked the door and it swung open by itself. The faint but immediately distinctive smell of kitowo[2] drifted out. Ir¨ªm¨¦ craned his neck to see around the door.


    "Hello, Shizuki," he said. "Is Ilaran back yet?"


    A small boy appeared from behind the door. He shook his head. "Dad''s gone too. Koyuki''s making sweets." He peered up at Abi. His nose wrinkled as if he''d smelt something unpleasant. "You smell of death."


    Kitri turned and gave Abi the most disgusted glare that could be managed by a woman whose face was almost completely hidden behind the box in her arms. "Are you still meddling with corpses? Even after everything?"


    "I''m going to leave them alone for a while," Abi said. At the time she truly believed it. Her already-awakened corpse wouldn''t cause any trouble. Best not run the risk of performing necromancy when the memory of her promise was still fresh in her grandmother''s mind.


    A gust of cold wind swept past them, carrying with it a few drops of rain. Judging by the grey clouds overheard there would be a downpour soon.


    Shizuki looked at Abi as if she was a dangerous animal about to pounce. "Why didn''t you listen to my letter?"


    Abi blinked. "What letter?"


    "The one I--" He broke off, staring at something behind them. "Dad''s back. Ilaran too."


    Abi, Kitri and Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked round to see Siarvin and Ilaran walking towards them. They were deep in conversation about something. So deep, in fact, that they didn''t even notice their visitors until they were right in front of them.


    "I understand now why you want to escape your mother," Ilaran said to Ir¨ªm¨¦ by way of greeting. At the mention of Kumolnea he made a face that suggested speaking about her left a bad taste in his mouth. He gave Abi a disapproving look. "Congratulations on making yourself the subject of the city''s gossip."


    Abi winced. No one liked being reminded of their failures in public. Not even -- or perhaps especially -- when they themselves knew perfectly well how badly they''d made a mess of things.


    Siarvin glared at her. That was odd. She couldn''t think of anything she''d done to offend him specifically. Even stranger, he looked almost frightened. He swept past her without a word. Abi was left to scratch her head and wonder if she owed him an apology for something.


    <hr>


    Haliran''s friends and associates included many assassins. Most of them were vaguely aware of each other but did not want anything to do with the others. People who killed for a living were generally not the trusting or friendly sort. That had a tendency to work against them when they were planning something without consulting each other first. At least ten different people were actively forming plans to assassinate either Ilaran or Siarvin. More than ten others were preparing to attack them without bothering to make an actual plan. Two more were planning to assassinate them both, along with Abihira if possible. It was never a good idea to let a powerful and possibly hostile magician wander around freely. Especially if they were dabbling in dark magic.


    News of the first assassin''s failure and unceremonious death by snake-bite hadn''t yet filtered through to the general population. None of the other would-be assassins knew what had happened.


    One of them set out to kill Ilaran less than ten minutes after the doctors pronounced her luckless predecessor dead. Unlike him she was dressed in unremarkable clothes. No one who saw her would think there was anything noteworthy about her. But at her side, hidden under her coat, she carried a poisoned knife.

 Chapter XVI: The Storm Breaks

    We all have to meet our match sometime or other. -- Richard Adams, Watership Down


    The rain began within a few minutes of the door closing behind them. The board over the window stopped the worst of the rain getting in. But it wasn''t completely waterproof. Abi idly watched a few rivulets trickle down the wood to pool on the windowsill. In the background Kitri, Ilaran and Ir¨ªm¨¦ were busy discussing the proper wording and various clauses to put in the contract. Abi listened for a while. Kitri''s overly-elaborate magistrate''s terminology very quickly became too much for her to understand, so she gave up and tried to find something else to focus on.


    Koyuki was still in the kitchen, keeping a close eye on the sweets. If he had been less preoccupied with cookery she would have tried to talk to him. It would be nice to speak Seroyawan again. Assuming he spoke a dialect she understood, that was. Even the version of common Seroyawan spoken in the royal court was more elaborate than the version spoken by people in rural villages.


    In his snake form Shizuki curled up in front of the fire and went to sleep. That left Siarvin as the only one of them all who wasn''t preoccupied. He still occasionally shot dark looks in Abi''s direction. She couldn''t for the life of her think what was wrong with him. Surely he didn''t object to her attacking Haliran?


    She weighed up the pros and cons of speaking to him. On the one hand it might very well lead to an argument. On the other, anything was better than watching the rain slip through the cracks.


    "Why do you keep glaring at me?" she asked.


    Siarvin blinked slowly. He looked surprisingly like Shizuki in that moment. "You''re a necromancer."


    Oh no. Yet another person who had a prejudice against necromancy. "None of my creations have hurt anyone."


    "Yet," Siarvin said pessimistically. "None of them have hurt anyone yet."


    After that there seemed little point in continuing the conversation.


    <hr>


    The rain had stopped by the time Abi left. She hadn''t paid much attention to what was happening on the other side of the room, mainly because she only understood one word in ten, but she was fairly sure the contract was signed. Ir¨ªm¨¦ was already making preliminary travel arrangements. He certainly didn''t waste any time. Shizuki had awakened and was happily stamping bits of scrap paper with Kitri''s vashad. Siarvin and Kitri herself didn''t look very happy about this. Koyuki still hadn''t ventured out of the kitchen. Abi was beginning to think he just didn''t want to talk to strangers.


    Ilaran followed her to the door. "You know the assassins will probably target you next?" he said quietly.


    Abi nodded slowly. Assassins weren''t unknown in Seroyawa. The emperor alone had escaped eighty different attempts in the time she was fostered there. Some of those attempts had also been aimed at various other members of the royal family, bodyguards, or politicians who happened to be nearby. Not all of them were as lucky as the emperor.


    She knew she had painted a target on her back the minute she''d attacked Haliran. But she also remembered Haliran''s attempt to blackmail her. Why would anyone go to the trouble of assassinating her before first making another effort to get her on their side?


    She said as much to Ilaran. He didn''t look convinced.


    "The assassins aren''t interested in furthering Haliran''s goals. They want to keep themselves from being caught. The best way to do that is to get rid of anyone they know is an enemy."


    Abi thought of the corpse in the crypt. "Don''t worry. I have a... Well, you could call her a bodyguard."


    Ilaran guessed what she was thinking of. "That damn corpse isn''t a bodyguard." He hesitated before the word ''damn''. She got the impression he wanted to use a stronger word.


    "She is now I''ve ordered her to protect me."


    Despite how confidently she spoke, Abi walked through the palace gates with a growing sense of foreboding. It increased with every step. The crypt was a good distance away. Assuming she was attacked, even assuming the corpse did sense she was in danger, how could it get out of the coffin, up the stairs, and all the way from the main entrance in time to help her? With a shudder she remembered how heavy the stone coffin lid was. Could the corpse even manage to open it alone?


    <hr>


    There was still a great deal Abi didn''t know about necromancy. To be fair to her, she knew this and acknowledged it -- though not out loud. She didn''t know, for instance, that the corpse''s limited awareness was tied to her magic. She also didn''t know that her magic reacted to her emotions. It sensed she was worried, it sensed she knew of a threat to her life, and it instinctively prepared to defend her.


    Down in the crypt the corpse stirred. One driving thought filled its brain. Its creator was in danger. It had to protect her.


    With its stiff and clumsy hands it pushed at the lid with all its strength. Unlike a living person it never got tired and never felt pain. Inch by inch the stone slid back. The corpse staggered out into the open air. It had no need to take stock of its surroundings. Once again Abi''s magic drew it like a beacon.


    <hr>


    Arrogant fool, Ilaran thought as Abihira walked away. She''s going to get herself killed soon.


    He went back into the house. A sudden feeling of unease made him stop on the doorstep and look back. Abi was already out of sight. There was no sound of a disturbance or struggle. He stepped into the hall. The uneasy feeling strengthened. It grew worse as he slowly walked towards the sitting room door.


    Ilaran stopped. Years of knowing people were trying to kill him had taught him there was often a reason for seemingly-irrational worry. Sometimes his magic could sense a threat he didn''t.


    Instead of going into the sitting room he opened the door to his bedroom. His knives sat on the shelf beside the door. He picked them up and set out after Abihira.


    <hr>


    Even though the rain was over the pavement was still very wet. Puddles gathered in every crack in the stones. No matter how much she tried to avoid standing in them Abi found her footsteps made constant splashing noises. The most oblivious person in the world couldn''t have failed to hear her. Worse, the splish-splash of her own footsteps made it almost impossible to hear anything else. Was that someone else walking through a puddle or just an echo? Or it might even be water dripping off leaves. She had no way of knowing. That uncertainty only increased her jumpiness.


    It was almost a relief when she saw someone else ahead. Finally her alarm had something tangible to focus on instead of trying to convince her the slightest sound meant there were assassins lurking in the hedgerows.


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    At first glance there was nothing truly suspicious about the woman walking towards her. She wore the practical, unostentatious clothes of a senior maid or junior housekeeper. Abi almost dismissed her as a random passer-by only there by chance. When she took a closer look she spotted all the seemingly minor things that contradicted such a surmise.


    A servant would always have keys at her waist. Whether they were the keys to every room in a mansion or just to her own lodgings, she would never venture out without them securely tied to her belt in case she misplaced them or got locked out. They would clank as she moved, making enough noise to be heard from a distance. This woman''s movements were silent apart from the water splashing underfoot.


    Not only that, a servant would only go out at this time of the afternoon, when everyone was busy getting dinner ready, setting the table, and preparing the dining room, if she had to do some emergency shopping. Under such circumstances she would carry a large basket to hold the groceries. This woman had nothing in her hands at all. She was going in the wrong direction to be on her way to the shops, and she had no purchases to suggest she was coming from them.


    Warning bells rang in Abi''s head. Something was wrong here.


    She advanced slowly, trying to pretend she hadn''t a care in the world and didn''t even realise there was someone ahead of her. The other woman continued to walk towards her. As she drew nearer an idea struck Abi. Criminals tended to avoid targeting people who could identify them. She couldn''t remember where she''d heard that. Now was as good a time as any to find out if it was true.


    Looking the woman right in the face, she said, "Excuse me, do you know what time it is?"


    The woman started. With a wary look at Abi she took her watch out of her pocket. "It''s ten past four."


    "Thank you very much," Abi said. She made sure she kept her tone light.


    She walked past the woman without a backwards glance. Instinctively she felt sure she was staring at her. The faintest rustle of cloth was the only warning she got.


    Abi leapt away. The knife slashed through the air where she had been a second ago.


    <hr>


    Down in the crypt the stone coffin stood empty. Its lid was propped against the wall. Its former occupant clambered stiffly up the stairs. As soon as she was safely out on level ground she ran at a surprising speed to find and defend her creator.


    <hr>


    An angry exclamation some distance ahead was the first warning Ilaran got that there was someone else around. The next one was the distinctive metallic sound of a blade scraping against stone. He drew his knife and walked faster. He broke into a run when he heard someone cry out.


    He rounded the corner to see a terrifying sight. A stranger who could only be an assassin held a knife within an inch of Abihira''s throat. The blade was so close to her skin that it had already nicked her cheek. Abihira clung for dear life to the assassin''s wrist. Her own strength was the only thing holding her attacker at bay.


    If Ilaran had his bow and arrow he could have killed the assassin from a distance. Unfortunately he kept them in the window seat in his bedroom. They were of less practical use than a knife if he needed to defend himself. He should have realised he would need them to defend someone else.


    The assassin''s back was to him. She didn''t see him approach. But Abihira did. He could have killed the assassin without her even knowing he was there if Abihira hadn''t looked so obviously in his direction. Suspecting something, the assassin turned her head. Ilaran swung the knife at her neck. She dodged. He missed and cut her arm instead.


    The cut was too shallow to do any real damage. It did throw off her aim, though. She lashed out with her own knife. It missed Ilaran''s ear by several inches. Vaguely he thought he heard running footsteps drawing nearer. There was no time to stop and listen.


    I hope that''s Siarvin and not another assassin, was all he thought about it.


    Abihira kicked the assassin in the stomach. She doubled over in pain. Her knife dropped out of her hand. Abihira grabbed it and stabbed deep into her neck. At the same moment Ilaran drove his knife into her back. The assassin made a wheezing, gasping noise that suggested he''d hit her lung.


    Either a slashed throat or a punctured lung would likely have proved fatal before she could get medical attention. Both of them, inflicted almost simultaneously, were too much even for an immortal. Within minutes her feeble death throes were over.


    Ilaran knelt down and pulled her knife out of her back. He''d stabbed with so much force that it took considerable effort to get it free. Abihira stared at the body with wide eyes. For someone so obsessed with death and the dead she didn''t seem too happy to have caused a death.


    <hr>


    The assassin''s death didn''t calm Abi''s magic. It remained agitated and ready to lash out. The corpse influenced by it continued to believe there was an immediate threat to her safety.


    A dead body didn''t register as a threat. A living person holding a knife did.


    In the course of the brief fight its participants had gotten turned around. Both Ilaran and Abihira were now facing in the direction of Siarvin''s house. Both of them had their backs to anyone or anything coming behind them.


    <hr>


    How strange, Abi thought faintly. She took several deep breaths to steady her stomach. Corpses never bothered me before.


    Somehow there was something especially disturbing about a corpse that had been a living person mere minutes ago. A skeleton or a decomposing, bloated body were gruesome in their own way. They just weren''t as gruesome as this.


    The assassin''s blood continued to pour from her wounds even after death. It mingled with the rain water until she lay in a large red pool. The bloody water moved closer and closer to Abi''s feet. She took a step back.


    Bad idea. Moving at all made her stomach roil. She retched into the hedge. If she''d eaten anything recently she would have been sick. In some ways actually being sick would have been preferable to gagging and dry-heaving for what felt like several minutes. At least it would have been over quicker.


    At the back of her mind she was dimly aware of approaching footsteps. She felt so queasy that this knowledge barely even registered.


    Abi turned away from the hedge on legs that were suddenly unsteady. Ilaran had politely pretended not to notice her retching. He was busily occupied in wiping his knife clean on the corpse''s clothes. The sight of the blade still streaked with blood made Abi''s stomach roil again.


    "It''s all right," Ilaran said, straightening up. He didn''t look at her as he slid his knife back into its holder. "Everyone feels sick the first time they kill someone."


    Out of the corner of her eye Abi caught a flicker of red. She turned. A figure barrelled past her and knocked her to the ground. Abi opened her mouth to shout an insult to the rude passer-by. She froze with her mouth still hanging open. It was the corpse she''d raised. Those muddy funeral clothes were unmistakeable.


    Everything happened in an instant. Ilaran only realised there was someone else there in the same instant the corpse shoved Abi aside. He looked round. At the exact same moment the corpse lunged at him.


    It sank its teeth into his neck.


    The world took on a bizarre dreamlike haze. Abi felt like a detached spectator watching from somewhere far away. Bright red blood spurted from Ilaran''s neck. It was the same colour as the blood that had sprayed from the assassin''s throat minutes before. The red was so vivid it leached all the colour from the world. A piercing scream echoed in her ears. With a dull sort of surprise Abi realised she was the one screaming. The corpse let go of Ilaran. He fell to his knees. The pavement was soaked in red all around him. He pressed both hands against the bite-mark. Blood streamed between his fingers.


    Fury welled up within her. The sort of fury that appeared cold to everyone else but was white-hot to her. Abi struck the corpse with all her magic. It was incinerated on the spot. Only a few fragments of ash remained, spots of grey amidst all the red.


    Abi never knew how she went from lying on the ground to kneeling beside Ilaran. The only thing she remembered clearly was his blood soaking her hands. She tried futilely to heal him with her magic. She''d never studied any healing spells beyond the most basic ones. She didn''t know how to mend blood vessels or close such a large wound.


    Ilaran opened and closed his mouth soundlessly. He stared at her intently, as if trying telepathically to make her understand what he wanted to say. For a minute after she reached him he was still conscious. Then his eyes glazed over. His arms dropped limply at his sides. His head fell against her shoulder. The blood pouring out of his neck slowed from a stream to a trickle. Abi continued trying desperately to heal the wound. When her magic didn''t work she pressed her hand to his neck and tried to stop the bleeding. Even then she knew it was useless. But she couldn''t stop. She couldn''t-- She couldn''t--


    She knelt in the pool of his blood for five minutes or an eternity. It was all over her hands, her clothes, his clothes.


    That was how Siarvin found her. With the assassin''s corpse on the ground beside her and Ilaran''s corpse in her arms.

 Chapter XVII: Abi Beyond

    Like the pain of a bad wound, the effect of a deep shock takes some while to be felt. When a child is told, for the first time in his life, that a person he has known is dead, although he does not disbelieve it, he may well fail to comprehend it and later ask--perhaps more than once--where the dead person is and when he is coming back. -- Richard Adams, Watership Down


    Siarvin carried Ilaran''s body back to the palace. Abi trailed silently behind. Ilaran''s blood still dripped on the ground. She stared blankly at the spots of red. Her earlier nausea had completely disappeared. All that remained was an all-consuming numbness. There was no grief or horror or even shock. The events of the last few minutes seemed like a nightmare she''d wake up from soon.


    The guards were nowhere to be seen at the palace gate. Lights and cheerful voices in the guardhouse suggested they were all staying inside out of the cold.


    It was strange how the mind focused on trivial things during or after a crisis. The guards and their carelessness were the first things to break through Abi''s shock. She felt much more angry at them than at anything else that had happened. Tears of rage stung her eyes. She couldn''t even tell what she was crying for -- Ilaran, who she''d barely known but who she''d indirectly killed? The corpse she''d dragged out of its dreamless slumber, turned into a weapon, then destroyed for misunderstanding her orders yet believing it was doing exactly what she''d told it to? Herself, for all the mistakes she''d made that had led to this?


    Through the grey haze that shrouded the world she saw a figure ahead. As she drew closer she realised it was Ir¨ªm¨¦. He stared in wide-eyed horror at the scene before him.


    "Oh gods, what happened?"


    "The assassin stabbed him," Siarvin said shortly. It was the first time he''d spoken since he found Abi and Ilaran. When he first saw Ilaran''s body he''d made a sound somewhere between a sob and a wail hastily cut off. That sound followed by his grim silence had somehow been worse than any amount of shouting or accusations.


    Abi flinched. It hadn''t occurred to her until now that Siarvin didn''t know how Ilaran had actually died. How would he? He saw the dead assassin with a blood-stained knife beside her. He saw Ilaran covered in blood. He saw Abi still trying futilely to save Ilaran''s life. He did not see the walking corpse, because Abi had already destroyed it.


    Hard on the heels of that thought came an equally depressing one. She would have to tell him the truth. It wasn''t fair to let him blame someone else, even an assassin, for what she had done.


    "Keep Shizuki out of the way," Siarvin told Ir¨ªm¨¦.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ nodded. All the colour had drained from his face and his eyes were as wide as dinner-plates. He turned and fled into the palace without a word.


    Siarvin carried Ilaran through the front door and into the room on the left. Abi followed like a lost puppy. Again and again she tried to gather the courage to speak. Again and again her words turned to ash and choked her before she could open her mouth.


    The room on the left turned out to be a bedroom. Everything about it looked as if Ilaran had just stepped out for a short time and would be back at any minute. A coat was draped over the back of a chair. A sewing kit, of all things, sat on the desk. A chess-board that had apparently been abandoned in the middle of a game stood in front of a small table. The table itself was decorated with a plaque written in a foreign language and a candle.


    A half-finished letter lay on the bedside table. Abi glanced at it without really meaning to. The last line read, Tell the servants to prepare for my return within the next month. A sudden tightness in her chest suggested her ribs were trying to contract around her lungs. Someone would have to add a post-script to that letter. A post-script that would make the last line bitterly, horribly ironic.


    Siarvin set Ilaran down on the bed as gently as if he was made of glass. He disappeared into the small bathroom adjoining the room, leaving Abi alone with the body. In life Ilaran had been one of the tallest men Abi knew. In death he seemed small and more vulnerable than she''d ever seen him look before. His eyes were still partly open, slashes of green in the middle of his chalk-white face. Abi shuddered. Never before had she so thoroughly understood the Saoridhin prejudice against green.


    Siarvin came back with a cloth and basin in hand. He leant over the bed and began to wipe the bloody finger-marks off Ilaran''s face. Abi had left those as she tried to support his head. Her hands were still red and sticky with Ilaran''s undried blood.


    "This is a bite-mark." Siarvin spoke quietly but so coldly. He looked up at Abi. She shuddered again at that glare. "It''s punctured all the way to the bone. No living person could bite with that much force. So I ask you, what did this?"


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    Slowly, with a faltering voice, Abi told him the whole sorry story. The barely-suppressed rage in his eyes made her feel like she had personally murdered Ilaran.


    "I warned you," Siarvin said flatly.


    Abi agreed sadly, "You did."


    "You said your creations had never hurt anyone."


    There was nothing she could say to that. Not when the evidence of how horribly, tragically wrong she''d been was right in front of her.


    Siarvin dropped the blood-stained cloth into the basin. He stared down at Ilaran''s face. With a jolt Abi saw he was crying.


    "I can save him," she said without thinking. The minute the words were out of her mouth she realised they were true. She could save him. She didn''t know how yet, but she could do it.


    Siarvin raised his head and glared at her again. "You''ve done enough."


    "I can save him," she repeated. Some power she hadn''t even known she had welled up within her. "I am a phoenix immortal, a descendant of the goddess Abihira[1], and I swear I will bring him back if I have to face all seven faces of Lashk¨®[2]."


    For a long minute the two of them stared at each other. At last Siarvin nodded sharply. He turned away and walked over to the desk by the window. Abi watched, bemused, as he picked up the sewing kit.


    "What are you doing?" she asked as he sat down beside the bed and began to thread a needle.


    "Stitching up the wound," he said. "No point in you bringing him back for him to bleed to death again immediately afterwards."


    <hr>


    The room was so vast it was impossible to see its walls. You could crane your head back as far as you could and still wouldn''t catch a glimpse of the ceiling. A river flowed sluggishly across the stone floor. On an island in the middle of the river stood a throne. And before the throne stood a very unhappy immortal.


    "This," said Ilaran grimly, "is an outrage."


    Surprisingly the person sitting on the throne nodded. "You don''t say."


    Ilaran glared at her. He had never given much thought to what happened after death. All the same, he had never expected to open his eyes and find himself in the company of a young woman who took one look at him and exclaimed, "Oh no!" He still didn''t know what he''d done to provoke such a reaction. Her explanation was extremely lacking.


    "Let me be sure I understand this," Ilaran said -- not that she''d told him much for him to understand. "I am dead, but I''m not in heaven. Or hell," he added as an afterthought. "So in the name of all that''s holy, where am I?"


    "In the Land of the Dead," the woman said. She held a scythe in her hand and idly twirled it as she spoke. "Well, not the Land of the Dead itself. This is my throne room. I suppose you could call it an entrance hall. If you were an ordinary soul I''d send you on into my realm itself. The problem is you''re not going to stay dead."


    None of that made any sense to Ilaran. "What do you mean, I''m not going to stay dead? Dead people don''t come back to life."


    In hindsight that was a very foolish thing to say, considering how he had died.


    The woman grimaced. "Unfortunately they do when there''s a necromancer around. That woman is an infernal nuisance and she''s just going to get worse."


    If she was talking about Abihira, he had to agree. "Then why don''t you do something to stop her? You''re a god, aren''t you?"


    "No," the woman said. "I''m just a... What''s that fancy word I heard recently? Oh yes. I''m a psychopomp. You could call me a guide of sorts."


    Did she say she''s a psychopath? Ilaran wondered, increasingly bewildered. He was starting to think this might actually be hell after all.


    "In short, I''m Death. Technically I could stop her, but I''m forbidden from directly interfering with the living world. My interference could cause even more damage than a zombie apocalypse. Unless Abihira tears reality apart there''s nothing I can do."


    That was a most unsatisfactory explanation. Ilaran gave up and changed the subject. "Well, what am I to do? Just stand here and wait until I stop being dead?"


    How was he going to come back to life anyway? None of Abihira''s previous creations were living people. They weren''t even sentient. He didn''t fancy eternity as a mindless corpse.


    "She''ll be along to collect you soon," Death said. "In the meantime... I don''t suppose you know how to play chess? Winning or losing won''t change your fate, of course. You''ve no idea how many people challenge me to chess in the hope I''ll send them back if they win. It''d be a nice change to play against someone without that motive."


    Ilaran thought of his abysmal chess skills. "When will she be here? What do you mean by "she''ll collect me soon"?"


    "I call all times soon," said Death maddeningly. "Oh, and I hope you have no embarrassing memories you don''t want her to see. She''ll be in your mind, you know."


    Certain memories crossed his mind at those words. He blanched. Suddenly staying dead didn''t seem so bad. Losing a chess game now seemed like just what he needed to stop him thinking about Abihira rooting through his memories. He could only pray she would keep her mouth closed about whatever she saw there.


    "...All right, I''ll play. But you''ll win."


    Death looked surprised. "I don''t want you to let me win just because--"


    "I won''t let you win. You''ll win anyway because I''m terrible at chess."


    <hr>


    Siarvin left after he finished stitching Ilaran''s neck. Abi sat down in the chair beside the bed. She stared thoughtfully at the body. Obviously souls went somewhere after death. Where did they go? How could she follow?


    She closed her eyes and reached out with her magic. Ilaran''s body was an empty shell. Yet there was the faintest echo of his soul, like a pathway leading out of the world. She followed that trail. Her body stayed in the chair. Yet some part of her -- her mind, soul, or magic; she didn''t know which -- actually walked along the pathway. It was even but narrow. Walls of grey mist surrounded her. She walked slowly, peering blindly ahead.


    Without any warning she walked into the equivalent of a closed door. Abi yelped and stumbled back. This might be a magical journey, but the pain in her nose was all too real.


    Abi glared at the mist in front of her. She held out her hands and walked forward again. There was that wall. Now that she knew it was there, she could tell it wasn''t as solid as it had felt. Her nose throbbed again. Clearly it felt the need to remind her that the wall had indeed been very solid a minute ago.


    She leaned against it with all her weight. The wall turned out to be a door when it pivoted inwards. Abi stumbled forwards into a riot of brilliant colours.

 Chapter XVIII: A Difficult Path

    Rebecca, wo du auch immer bist (Rebecca, wherever you are)


    Dein Herz ist ruhlos, wie die wilde, freie See (Your heart is restless like the wild, free sea)


    Wenn der Abend beginnt, singt der Wind (When the evening begins the wind sings)


    Rebecca, komm heim, Rebecca! (Rebecca, come home, Rebecca!)


    Aus dem Nebelreich zur¨¹ck nach Manderley (From the foggy realm return to Manderley)


    -- Rebecca das Musical, Rebecca


    A child''s high-pitched laugh rang out. Abi opened her eyes to find herself lying amidst long grass. She propped herself up on her elbows. Absently she noticed that the weight of her body left no impression on the grass.


    It took her eyes a while to decipher the vivid colours around her. Funny; she didn''t remember the real world being so bright. She was in the grounds of a large castle. Just ahead of her was a bed full of flowers just beginning to wither. On the other side of the flower-bed was a cobblestone driveway. Two small children, a blond boy and a brunette girl, kicked a ball back and forth across it.


    Another young boy sat on the grass a short distance from Abi. His face was a curious mixture of sullenness and wistfulness as he watched the other two play.


    Where am I? Abi wondered.


    The children were the only people around to ask. And the youngest boy was the only one not absorbed in the game.


    "Excuse me," she began, and prepared for him to panic. "Can you tell me where I am?"


    The boy ignored her. She repeated herself in a louder voice. He continued to ignore her. How rude! Annoyed, she tried to shake his shoulder. Her hand went right through him as if he wasn''t there.


    A woman spoke behind them. "Rait¨¢len!"


    Abi and the boy looked round. A tall, thin woman in a brilliant green dress frowned down at the boy. There was something faintly familiar about the woman''s face. She would have been beautiful if she hadn''t looked as if she had a lot of worries. Her fine silk dress and carefully-styled hair suggested she was someone very important. Yet her face had the suggestion of a shadow over it. For some reason she couldn''t explain Abi felt sure this woman was unhappy.


    She held out her hand. The boy scrambled to his feet and took it.


    "I''ve told you to leave them alone," the woman said with a dark look towards the children.


    That look sent a chill of foreboding down Abi''s spine. Something was badly wrong here.


    "But I want to play with them, Mother," Rait¨¢len protested. "They''re my siblings."


    The woman''s dark look became positively murderous. She forced a smile as she looked down at her son. "They aren''t your siblings, dear. They''re just bastards. You are your father''s only true heir. You mustn''t play with such trash or their taint will rub off on you."


    She led the boy away. Abi stared after them, shaken. The world''s brilliant colours seemed to have suddenly faded.


    I don''t understand, she thought. What is this? Why am I here?


    The faint echo of Ilaran''s soul still lingered around this place. She followed it slowly. The world blurred around her. When it became clear again she found herself in a courtyard. A boy of about Shizuki''s age had a bird perched on his wrist. Well, "perched" was stretching it. The bird was almost as large as he was. Abi had never seen falconry in person before. It wasn''t practised in Seroyawa. But she recognised what he was doing at once from pictures she''d seen in books.


    Softly the boy murmured something in the bird''s ear. He threw his arm up. The bird spread its wings and soared into the sky. He stared after it until it was out of sight.


    Footsteps approached from behind. His shoulders tensed but he didn''t look round. Abi did. At first she didn''t believe her eyes.


    "Ilaran?"


    She realised her mistake immediately. Whoever this man was, he was blond and brown-eyed. Ilaran was a green-eyed brunet -- unless he''d dyed his hair and found some way to change his eye colour. Ilaran was also considerably taller and thinner than this man, whose head was barely on a level with Abi''s shoulder and who was what might charitably be called somewhat overweight. Even so the resemblance was eerie.


    Not-Ilaran stared at the boy with a cruel sneer. "What are you doing, Rait¨¢len?"


    The boy turned slowly. He gave the man a withering look that was both out-of-place on someone so young and yet very familiar. For the first time Abi looked, really looked, at his dark brown hair, poison-green eyes, and unamused frown. In that moment he looked exactly like a miniature version of Ilaran. She didn''t know whether to laugh or cry.


    In the end she settled for shaking her head in disbelief. "Is this what they mean by your life flashing before your eyes? Only this time it''s someone else''s life. What a mess!"


    Now that she knew she was somehow reliving Ilaran''s life she felt very uncomfortable about seeing any more. It was worse than reading someone else''s diary. She wouldn''t like a stranger watching her life unfold. Ilaran would be rightly furious if he knew. Worst of all, now she knew his kelros-name. She had no right to that knowledge.


    She tried to sidle away unobserved -- a waste of time for an invisible spectator. She had no need to tiptoe when no one could see or hear her, but she did it anyway.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    A sharp slap echoed around the courtyard. Abi looked back in spite of herself. Rait¨¢len or Ilaran or whatever his name currently was held his hand against the side of his face -- including over his eye, she noticed in shock. The man shook his own hand. Judging by the look on his face the blow had hurt him as much as its victim.


    Quite a crowd had gathered behind him by this time. Most of them wore rich fabrics and garish colours that immediately marked them as having too much money and not enough taste. Others wore servants'' uniforms. At the front of the crowd Abi spotted the woman from earlier. She watched the scene with a savage scowl. It was easy to deduce her relationship to Ilaran -- and thus to the man who had struck him. So this was Princess Aderthril. She was relatively young and seemed healthy, if unhappy; why had she died so early? Abi tried to do some mental maths and work out how much longer Aderthril had to live. She failed. Maths had never been her best subject, and she didn''t know what year this was.


    Ilaran''s father patted him on the head as if he was a toddler. Ilaran looked as if he''d like to bite his hand off.


    "Tell us all why you let my prize hawk free, Rait¨¢len," the man said in a patronising voice.


    Ilaran stood up straight and glared at the crowd with all the imperious dignity that could be managed by a boy of scarcely five hundred. "It''s not right to keep him in a cage. He''s meant to be free."


    A chorus of derisive giggles erupted from the crowd. Only Aderthril didn''t smile. She looked at her son with a strange mixture of anger and dismay. Ilaran''s father sneered. He whistled twice and held out his arm. A dark shape barrelled down from the sky. Abi ducked instinctively. When she looked up she saw the hawk perched on the man''s wrist. He stroked its head with much more gentleness than he''d shown towards his son.


    "You see, Rait¨¢len," he said in an incongruously fatherly tone, "he''s tame. You can set him free a hundred times but he''ll always come back when I call him." He gave Ilaran a cold smile. "Still, we can''t expect you to understand such things. You''re just a half-breed. Your mother has taught you too many of her barbarian ways." He gave Aderthril a poisonous look. She returned it with interest. To Ilaran he continued, "You must learn better. Else you''ll never be worthy of inheriting my throne."


    Ilaran said nothing. Abi looked at him and was shocked to see tears in his eyes.


    Resolutely she turned away. She followed the path out of the courtyard. Again the world blurred around her. She walked for what felt like an hour, reluctant to stop. Eventually her feet were too sore for her to continue. She had to stop.


    Once again the world cleared. This time she found herself in a crowded banquet hall. Ilaran''s father sat at the head of the table. Beside him, where protocol dictated his wife should sit, was a young blonde woman. On her side, where his heir should sit, was a young boy of scarcely one hundred.


    Abi looked around for Ilaran or Aderthril. There was no sign of Aderthril anywhere. To her surprise she saw Ilaran sitting near the very bottom of the table. He was at least a century older than he had been when she last saw him. His face, formerly round and chubby like all young children''s, was already hardening into the sharp, pointed features he had as an adult. He picked up his cup with the awkward carefulness of a young adult who was going through a growth spurt and was still not used to how long his arms were now.


    That part of the table was reserved for servants. Seating a royal there was a grave insult. It had even been the cause of wars.


    Abi looked back at Ilaran''s father. Her lips thinned. It was lucky for him she was currently intangible. Otherwise she would have boxed his ears.


    Beside him the little boy coughed. His mother stopped eating and patted him on the back. It didn''t help. He coughed again and again. Each time was more violent than the last.


    A sickening sense of dread pooled in Abi''s stomach. Perhaps he''d just swallowed wrong. Maybe he was coming down with a cold. Colds could make children cough, couldn''t they? He was so young. Scarcely more than a baby. No one would--


    She looked back at Ilaran. The little boy continued to cough. Everyone at the table forgot about their meal to watch the unfolding scene. Ilaran set down his knife and fork. He watched with an impassive expression. Calmly he picked up his glass and sipped his drink with the unconcerned air of a spectator at a play.


    Tananerl didn''t have a taboo against killing children.


    Ilaran''s own words echoed in her mind. ...it wasn''t killing a baby. It was revenge by proxy, killing someone associated with an enemy.


    Abi grabbed the back of an empty chair to steady herself. Surprisingly she was able to touch it instead of her hands passing through it again. She would have been more curious about why that was if a child wasn''t dying before her eyes.


    Mayhem reigned at the top of the table. The child had been laid on the floor. A doctor knelt over it, with a priest muttering prayers behind him. The child''s mother sobbed quietly as she clutched his hand. Ilaran''s father looked on with a gobsmacked expression, as if it hadn''t yet dawned on him what was happening.


    Ilaran finished his drink. He stood up and slipped out while everyone else was distracted. Abi watched him go. In the background the child''s coughs stopped. The silence that followed was more chilling than the coughing itself.


    Abi followed Ilaran out of the banquet hall. She trailed behind him all the way to a deserted hallway. Aderthril sat on a bench beneath a bay window. When she heard him approach she looked up.


    "It''s done," Ilaran said.


    His voice was still high like a child''s, nothing like his deep voice as an adult. In his clumsy movements there was no trace of the poise and elegance he would develop later in life. Once again Abi realised just how young he still was. She tried to reconcile that with his indifference to what had just happened. How could someone so young care so little about their half-sibling''s murder?


    "Good," Aderthril said. "Now come on. We haven''t much time before they realise we''ve gone."


    She swept down the hall. Ilaran trailed after her, struggling to keep up. Abi watched until they turned a corner and disappeared from view.


    This is the man you''re trying to save, a little voice whispered in her mind. Is he worth it? Is atoning for your mistakes really a good enough reason to bring him back?


    "He''s still just a child," Abi said. Even to herself it didn''t sound convincing. "He isn''t like this as an adult."


    Isn''t he? What do you really know about him except what you''re seeing now?


    She didn''t have an answer for that. So she ignored the voice and followed the path away from this scene. Once again the world blurred around her.


    <hr>


    In Death''s throne room the chess game was not going well. Ilaran had already lost five pawns, a bishop, and a knight. He hadn''t captured so much as one of Death''s pieces.


    She shook her head as she captured another pawn. "You really are bad at this game."


    Ilaran was spared the trouble of replying when without warning he developed a bizarre case of double vision. The chess board was still in front of him, and he could still see Death sitting on the other side, but superimposed over his surroundings was the image of a little girl dropping a caterpillar on a woman''s head.


    He blinked and rubbed his eyes. The inexplicable image disappeared.


    "What in the world was that?"


    For a minute Death looked as bemused as he was. Then light dawned. "Ah. She''s travelling through your memories. As a side-effect you now have access to some of her memories."


    Ilaran stared at her in horror. "But I don''t want Abihira''s memories! It''s... it''s rude to poke around in someone else''s mind!"


    "Yes, but that''s what she''s currently doing. Not willingly, but still. Consider it a sort of justice."


    That was not nearly as comforting as she seemed to think.

 Chapter XIX: Journey to the Past

    People always say


    Life is full of choices


    No one ever mentions fear


    Or how the world can seem so vast


    On a journey to the past


    -- Anastasia (musical), Journey to the Past


    Back in the Land of the Living Ir¨ªm¨¦ was getting anxious. They hadn''t heard a sound from the bedroom for over an hour. Shizuki was beginning to notice something was wrong. Siarvin and Koyuki''s attempts to distract him with board games wouldn''t work forever.


    In an undertone he asked, "Why is Abi still in there? What''s she doing?"


    Siarvin shrugged helplessly. "She said she''ll bring him back."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ had a sudden image of Ilaran turned into one of Abi''s mindless corpses. He shuddered. It was such a profoundly wrong image he wouldn''t be surprised if Ilaran came back from the dead just to prevent it happening.


    <hr>


    What Abi and her friends had forgotten was that many people had witnessed her attack Haliran. Raiv¨ªth publicly announced she had been punished for it, yes. But a simple announcement wasn''t enough to stop all the rumours her actions had caused.


    The police received more than garbled twenty reports within an hour that Abi was a necromancer who''d attempted to murder someone. After the twentieth report they decided they had to do something. So a group of policemen set off to arrest her.


    <hr>


    The first thing Abi noticed about this new scene was how cold it was. Now even the blazing fire in the middle of the room could keep out the chill. All it did was cast most of the room into darkness broken by flickers of light.


    Ilaran was there, older again than he''d been last time but still not quite an adult. If she had to guess she''d say he was about the same age as she was now. Another man stood opposite him, a blond man several decades older than him and in mud-stained travelling clothes. Abi was amused to note how the two men couldn''t have looked more like opposites if they''d tried. The blond man was quite short, had a square jaw and wavy hair, and wasn''t overweight but certainly wasn''t underfed either. Ilaran was tall, had a very angular face and straight hair, and looked even thinner now than he did as an adult. The two of them put side-by-side could serve as personifications of substance and shadow. Yet there was a vague resemblance between them, just enough for her to remember the blond boy from the first time she''d arrived in Ilaran''s memories.


    Another half-sibling? How many does he have?


    "What do you want?" Ilaran asked in a bored voice. He didn''t even look at the other man. Instead he flipped through an atlas.


    Instead of answering the question the man said, "I know where the cult are meeting. My mother''s one of them. They''ve deluded her into believing they have the truth."


    "I''m not surprised," Ilaran said coldly. "What has that to do with me?"


    The man looked taken aback at this reaction. "You swore to stamp them out. They''re killing people from the city."


    "Stamp them out with what army?" Ilaran asked. "In case you''ve forgotten I''m still just a student. My mother is ill. I have no friends or supporters to turn to in this city."


    The man was silent for several minutes. "I know you killed that teacher. In his own house, no less."


    Ilaran looked up sharply. "What of it? Are you going to call me a murderer for killing a man who tried to rape me?"


    "No, of course not. I just meant you can obviously get into people''s houses unseen. I know who some of the cultists are. You can look for evidence--"


    "--And walk right into a trap. No, thank you. Go back to your whore mother and tell her that her plan has failed. You will never be King of Ahal¨¢l[1] while I live. And I will not be killed so easily."


    Where''s Ahal¨¢l? Abi wondered. I thought Ilaran was prince of Tananerl. It wasn''t a place she''d ever heard of before. It didn''t even sound like a language she recognised. Though now she thought of it, Ilaran had never actually said he was from Tananerl. He could be from almost anywhere.


    The blond man''s patience ran out. "For the gods'' sake, Rait¨¢len! Not everything is a plot against you!"


    "Forgive me for not trusting the word of a bastard. Especially not one who''ll inherit everything if I die before our dear father."


    The man took a deep breath. Then another. Then another. Abi felt mildly sorry for him.


    "Look," he said wearily, "I haven''t spoken to my mother for almost a year. We weren''t exactly close before that. But ever since she got involved in the cult she''s tried to convert me every time she sees me. She''s convinced I''m going to hell unless I join too. She''s even threatened to denounce me as a heretic to their priests. You know what that means."


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Ilaran nodded slowly. He stared expectantly at his half-brother. "Well? What else? Surely that''s not the end of your story."


    He did not sound like he believed a word of it. The other man clearly sensed that too. He grimaced but pressed on regardless.


    "I want to destroy the cult. So do you. We can work together. I have no reason to want you dead when you can help me. Believe that even if you don''t believe anything else."


    Quick as lightning Ilaran pulled a knife out of his sleeve and aimed it at his half-brother''s throat. The other man froze. So did Abi. She watched in horror as Ilaran stepped closer until the blade was touching the man''s throat.


    Conversationally Ilaran said, "Swear you aren''t planning to kill me, Nuvildu. Right now. And if I''m not convinced..."


    He trailed off. There was no need for him to continue. Nuvildu paled. For a second they stared at each other in silence. Then Nuvildu reached up and closed his hand over Ilaran''s on the knife''s hilt. With an air of calm indifference he pressed the blade even closer to his skin. A thin rivulet of blood trickled down to his collar.


    Ilaran''s eyes widened. A hint of panic showed in his voice when he spoke. "What are you--"


    Nuvildu cut him off. "I swear I am not planning anything against you. I renounce all my rights to the throne and I swear to serve you loyally if you give me the chance. I swear I will do anything you ask of me."


    Ilaran gawked at him. The look on his face would have been funny under any other circumstances. "What if I ask you to cut your own throat right now?"


    "Then I will do it." Nuvildu''s voice shook only slightly.


    Minutes ticked by as the two of them stared at each other. Nuvildu still held the knife at his throat. His hand was over Ilaran''s, so Ilaran couldn''t draw back without the risk of jarring the knife and injuring him more.


    "All right," Ilaran said at last. "Can you let go now?"


    <hr>


    Abi understood very little of their discussion. It was mainly about people and places she''d never heard of. All she gathered was that there was a cult worshipping someone called the Blue Lady, they burnt heretics -- which included anyone their leaders disliked -- at the stake, and they were forcing people to convert on pain of death. Ilaran and Nuvildu were busily making plans to destroy the whole cult. She had never heard of the cult before, so she assumed they succeeded. She moved on.


    At first glance the next scene was so like the last one that she thought she hadn''t left it at all. It was still bitterly cold. A fire blazed in front of her. But now the room was much more crowded and noisy. She looked around and realised it wasn''t a room at all. She was outside now, in a city square full of people. There was no sign of either Ilaran or Nuvildu.


    Wails rose from a group of people in handcuffs. Soldiers guarded them with drawn swords. A woman in the robes of a magistrate stepped into the middle of the square.


    "Be it known," she declared in ringing tones, "that this people were the leaders of the monstrous organisation known as the Cult of the Blue Lady. They murdered over five thousand people who refused to convert. Under the law they are all condemned to die in the same way they killed their victims: to be burnt alive at these stakes."


    Behind the magistrate stood a collection of stakes surrounded by firewood. The soldiers dragged the condemned criminals over to them. The crowd screamed insults and hurled things at the handcuffed men. The magistrate picked up a torch and lit it in the fire beside Abi.


    Abi couldn''t bear to watch any more. She turned away. There amidst the crowd she finally saw Ilaran and Nuvildu. Both of them watched the unfolding horror with expressions of grim triumph.


    Someone screamed behind her. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. Abi stumbled away from the scene and onto the pathway again.


    I hope whatever I see next is less horrifying, she thought.


    It was daylight when the world came into focus again. Ilaran and Nuvildu sat together on a wall overlooking a river. Nuvildu idly tossed stones into the water. Ilaran was busy reading a textbook.


    "What now?" Ilaran asked suddenly. "We destroyed the cult. What do you intend to do now?"


    Nuvildu picked up another stone and dropped it. He watched the ripples before answering. "Stay with you, I suppose. My mother''s dead."


    "My mother''s dying."


    Both of them fell silent. Ilaran placed a bookmark on the page and closed the book.


    "I''d like her to see me become king before she dies," he said wistfully. Then he turned to Nuvildu. "Would you help me kill our father?"


    Abi squawked, "What?"


    Nuvildu didn''t bat an eyelid. "If that''s what you want."


    They''re joking, Abi told herself. No one would actually kill their own father.


    Very warily she took another step along the path. Who knew what she''d find this time? She stopped. The world resolved itself into a throne room. Nuvildu held a struggling man in place. Ilaran stood over them with a sword. All the colour drained from Abi''s face.


    The man looked up. It was their father, his face contorted into a furious snarl. "You-- Traitors!"


    "You killed your mother for the throne," Ilaran said coldly.


    His father fell silent. He gazed up at the raised sword with terrified eyes.


    The sword fell. His head dropped to the floor. Abi screamed.


    Both Seroyawa and Saoridhl¨¦m placed a high value on filial piety -- Seroyawa more than Saoridhl¨¦m. Children were expected to show proper respect to their parents. To always treat them well. To love them. To never disgrace them. Killing one of your parents was unthinkable.


    The little voice from earlier repeated its question. It repeated it very emphatically. Is he worth all this effort? Is he worth saving?


    "I don''t know," Abi said aloud. The decapitated body lay in a pool of its own blood. There was something eerily reminiscent of Ilaran''s death in that scene. "I just don''t know."


    <hr>


    Meanwhile, in the Land of the Dead...


    "She kissed her brother? She kissed her brother?[2]"


    Death shrugged. "Foster brother, I believe. And it was to win a bet."


    That hardly made things any better. Ilaran shuddered. What other horrors did Abihira''s memories have in store for him?


    "Shall we continue the game?" Death asked.


    Ilaran eyed the board suspiciously. "Haven''t I already lost?"


    "Not yet. You''ve as good as lost, though. Perhaps we should start over."


    Ilaran weighed his options. He could spectacularly lose yet another game of chess. Or he could sit around with nothing to distract him from the contents of Abihira''s mind. It was an easy decision to make.


    "When will she get here?"


    "Soon," Death said maddeningly. "Quite soon."


    Ilaran groaned.

 Chapter XX: Prince of Tananerl

    The past, like fire, assumes mutable shapes. One makes do with available light. -- Eric Pankey, Available Light


    When he was still alive Ilaran had sometimes wondered why Abihira was -- to put it bluntly -- such a stubborn and reckless idiot. He had his answer now. The only good thing to come out of his unwanted access to all of her memories was that he could see exactly why she had decided necromancy was a good idea.


    Unsurprisingly it was not a convincing reason. Indeed it wasn''t truly a reason at all. It was simply the product of the Seroyawan royal court''s well-meaning but misguided method of raising her.


    Fostering children back and forth was a custom the Saoridhin and Seroyawan royal families had invented over a hundred thousand years ago. Part of it was inspired by a Saoridhin princess who married a Seroyawan prince. She missed the land where she grew up while also wanting her family to see her new home. Her wish fit in nicely with the current political situation which had led to her marriage: the two empires wanted to strengthen their alliance while making it almost impossible for either to betray the other. So the idea of sending a Seroyawan child to be fostered in Saoridhl¨¦m and vice versa was born.


    It was a good idea. It was an even better one when the foster parents didn''t indulge the child''s every whim. And that was the problem.


    When Abihira arrived in Seroyawa, tensions were building between it and Hyon-eun -- yet again. Diplomatic relationships between those two empires were never cordial. They varied only from "coldly indifferent" to "war is imminent". Seroyawa responded to the threat -- which they had caused by their high-handed encroachment on Hyon-eun''s territory; Ilaran had been alive at the time, remembered all about it, and had no sympathy at all for Seroyawa -- by doing everything they could to keep Saoridhl¨¦m''s support. One of the ways they did this was by giving Abihira her own way in everything and never saying a word about her behaviour.


    From one perspective he could see why they would think it was a good idea. Abihira would have nothing to complain about, not even a well-earned reprimand. If her grandmother asked how she was being treated she would have nothing but praise for how indulgent her foster parents were. From every other perspective he couldn''t believe they''d been so stupid. How could anyone think it was wise to cater to a child''s every whim, no matter how ridiculous?


    The results were exactly what anyone would expect. Abihira grew up expecting to get her own way in everything and to be allowed to do whatever she wanted with very few consequences. It was a miracle she wasn''t utterly unbearable and as relatively sane as she was.


    Well, it wasn''t really a miracle. It was mostly thanks to Princess Kiriyuki and Prince Mirio. Judging by Abihira''s memories they had been the only people in the royal court who consistently said "no" to her. Like all good older sisters Kiriyuki took it upon herself to annoy Abihira into being a better person. Mirio tried to teach Abihira protocol, selflessness, and self-discipline. His efforts were mostly futile, but at least he tried.


    Ilaran rubbed his forehead in an attempt to stave off his impending headache. Being dead should have spared him a headache. Unfortunately Abihira''s memories were enough to give him one.


    "What is it now?" Death asked.


    "I wish I could go back in time just to tell the emperor of Seroyawa what I think of his parenting methods."


    Surprisingly Death accepted that without question. "I captured two more of your pawns when you were distracted."


    When she had only been in Seroyawa a short time, Abihira had thrown a tantrum when Prince Mirio beat her at kinin[1]. She shoved the board off the table and burst into tears. (In fairness to her, she had apologised for that behaviour when she was older and somewhat wiser.)


    In that moment Ilaran felt rather like imitating her.


    <hr>


    After the patricide incident Abi did the equivalent of skipping a chapter in a book. Except it wasn''t a chapter, it was Ilaran''s time as King of Ahal¨¢l. And it wasn''t a book, it was a record of his life. She walked as far as she could. When she paused to catch her breath she walked on again as quickly as possible. Not once did she give the world a chance to clear and show her some new horror.


    Eventually she had to stop. She''d missed at least five thousand years, based on Ilaran''s age now. Apparently some very important things had happened in those five thousand years. The first thing she saw was Ilaran and Nuvildu being dragged out of a carriage by armed guards. Ilaran''s face was a mask of blood. Nuvildu was shirtless. His back was covered with open, bleeding gashes that could only have been inflicted by a whip.


    A woman dismounted from her horse and sneered down at them imperiously. "Do you see that well?"


    For the first time Abi took stock of their surroundings. They were in a ruined building of some sort. A temple or a palace, perhaps. In the middle of the floor was a large round hole. She approached cautiously and peered down into it. The bottom was so far below it was out of sight.


    The woman continued, "It will be your grave. The water dried up long ago so you needn''t worry about drowning. I will go back to the city and tell everyone you died heroically in battle, leaving Father''s throne to me."


    Another half-sibling? Abi thought. This is the worst family I''ve ever heard of.


    "No one ever comes here now. It will be months at the earliest before your bodies are found. Anyone who does discover you will think you fell in by accident. No one will ever trace it back to me."


    Abi would have been even more horrified by this if she hadn''t known Ilaran would survive. She looked at Nuvildu with foreboding. Ilaran had never mentioned having a brother. What happened to him? Did he die here, in this awful place?


    "Throw them in."


    The guards dragged Nuvildu to the edge first. As he passed the woman he turned his head and spat in her face. He didn''t scream as they shoved him off the edge. Next they dragged Ilaran over.


    Abruptly the world disintegrated before Abi''s eyes. A confusing blur of light and dark surrounded her. She blinked several times to clear her vision. When she could see again, she found herself in on the stony, uneven ground at the bottom of a dark pit. A small circle of light glimmered far overhead.


    Someone moved beside her.


    "Ilaran?" Nuvildu''s voice trembled as he spoke. "Ilaran? Are you there?"


    For a terrifying moment there was silence. Then, "I landed on my leg. I think it''s broken."


    Nuvildu tried to crawl over to where Ilaran lay. He gave up, whimpering in pain, after moving a few inches. "My back hurts too much to move."


    Silence reigned again. The memory faded into a dreamlike haze. Night fell, day returned, night fell again, all within the space of a few minutes. The sun couldn''t reach them so far below the ground. They could see its light above, but none of its rays fell on them down here.


    Ilaran managed to stand on his good leg. He circled the well, scrabbling at the wall in hopes of finding a way out. When day came again Nuvildu was muttering nonsense. Abi looked at his wounds. They were still open and oozing green pus. Infection had already set in. Her feeling of foreboding got worse.


    Towards the night Ilaran sat down next to Nuvildu. He stared helplessly at the wounds.


    "If we had water I could wash them," he said.


    "Why don''t you wish for wings while you''re at it?" Nuvildu asked sarcastically, in a rare moment of lucidness.


    "I have wings in my eagle form," Ilaran said. Abi had never heard him sound so defeated. "But I can''t carry anyone with me."


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    "Then escape alone."


    Ilaran didn''t answer at first. "I can''t. I can''t reach my magic."


    Neither of them spoke for a long time. Eventually Nuvildu lapsed back into feverish rambling. His words grew quieter and quieter. Finally they stopped altogether.


    Night fell again. When the day came it found Ilaran still sitting beside his brother''s corpse.


    Abi couldn''t speak to him. She couldn''t tell him it would be all right or offer her condolences. She couldn''t even touch him. All she could do was watch helplessly as he ran his fingers through Nuvildu''s hair and murmured useless reassurances.


    Eventually Ilaran struggled to his feet. He stared up at the light. He gritted his teeth and grabbed hold of a stone jutting out of the wall. Abi watched in bewilderment. He couldn''t possibly climb out of the well with a broken leg!


    She underestimated what grief and a desire for revenge could do. It took Ilaran over five hours to climb out of the well. By the time he was half-way up his hands were skinned and bleeding. His broken leg bumped against the wall repeatedly. Every few minutes he had to stop and balance on one leg, usually standing on tiptoe on a stone barely protruding from the wall, to catch his breath. When he finally hauled himself out of the well he collapsed onto the floor and lay there all night. Come morning he stumbled to his feet again and staggered out of the ruin.


    Abi followed, hardly able to believe her eyes, as Ilaran half-limped, half-hopped his way to a farm half a mile away. She shook her head in disbelief as he literally stumbled upon the farmer, who hastily sent a servant to fetch a doctor.


    He survived all that just to die because of my creation.


    The thought left a bitter taste in her mouth. She moved on to the next memory.


    <hr>


    Once again Abi skipped as much as she could. The next thing she saw was Ilaran talking to her own grandfather. That was so unexpected that she stopped and listened.


    "I understand why you want revenge on your sister," her grandfather was saying, "but I can''t just declare war on a kingdom in the middle of Tananerl for no reason."


    "I know--" Ilaran began.


    Emperor Consort Ninuath interrupted him before he could finish. "But there is one thing I can do. Tell me, how would you like to be ruling prince of all of Tananerl?"


    Ilaran was silent for several minutes. He stared blankly at Ninuath. "...What?"


    "All those warring tribes and kingdoms are a terrible nuisance, you know. Raiv¨ªth wants someone who can unite them into something that resembles a civilised province. Do you think you can manage that?"


    Abi had never seen Ilaran look so flabbergasted. "But I--"


    "Of course we will also give you the support of the Saoridhin army to deal with any troublemakers," Ninuath continued.


    "...This is a terrible idea."


    "Possibly."


    Ilaran glared at Ninuath. "It''ll never work."


    "The previous attempts didn''t work because we sent Saoridhin noblemen and politicians to rule it. You''re from Tananerl. You have a better chance of making it work. I have the power to appoint you Prince of Tananerl right now."


    I never knew Grandfather was so involved in politics, Abi thought in bemusement.


    "All right," Ilaran said at last. "But if this goes as badly wrong as I expect, I''ll do my best to drag you down with me."


    <hr>


    It didn''t go wrong. It went surprisingly well, in fact. Quite a few kingdoms in Tananerl already wanted someone to settle their disputes for them. Abi continued to skip as many memories as possible. She was here to bring Ilaran back to life, not have a history lesson or spy on his entire life. So far she hadn''t even found the present Ilaran yet. Where was he, anyway?


    Is he reliving my life while I relive his? Abi wondered, little guessing how accurate that was.


    She skipped a long string of memories mostly about treaties, council meetings, and politics. They were followed by an even longer string of memories about social events, diplomacy, and getting various nobles'' support. Abi had never realised being a ruling prince required so much work.


    A stranger began to pop up again and again, usually right beside Ilaran. She was a woman of about the same age as him, wearing the dull black robes usually worn by scholars or scribes. Yet she kept appearing in places a scholar or scribe wouldn''t be. Beside Ilaran at official engagements, for example, or discussing the contents of his letters with him. If her name had been mentioned yet, Abi hadn''t caught it. Strange. Abi tried to remember if she''d ever heard of Ilaran being married. He didn''t wear alen[2], but perhaps married people didn''t do that in Tananerl.


    Whoever the woman was, she didn''t wear the fine clothes that would be expected of a princess consort. She treated Ilaran with much more deference than a wife would show her husband. Abi shrugged and dismissed it as relatively unimportant. It was none of her business, after all.


    The next memory Abi stepped into was much more interesting than the other recent ones. It began with a woman slapping Ilaran across the face.


    "What did he do?" Abi asked aloud. There was usually only one reason a woman slapped a man like that, but she couldn''t picture Ilaran being guilty of that.


    She got an answer almost immediately. "How dare you forge my signature?"


    Of all the reasons she''d expected, that wasn''t one of them. It also didn''t seem like something Ilaran would usually do.


    Ilaran sighed. "Captain Bialaer, if you''ll let me explain--"


    "Please do," Bialaer said icily. "And it had better be a good explanation."


    "I needed your written permission to send the guards to his house."


    Whose house? Abi wondered. If she hadn''t skipped those other memories she would have known. The price for not being bored was not knowing what they were talking about.


    Bialaer face-palmed. "So instead of asking for my permission you forged my signature."


    "You were out of the city," Ilaran protested.


    "And you couldn''t wait until I got back?"


    He had no answer for that. Abi lost interest and moved on. The very next memory followed on shortly after that one. Ilaran was in what must be his private sitting room, reading a book in the chair beside the fireplace. The scholar -- or whatever she was -- stormed into the room with a furious scowl. She stalked over to Ilaran. He set his book down on the floor with the air of someone who knew he was in for an unpleasant time and wanted to get it over with.


    "Hello, Kivoduin," Ilaran said wearily. "What is it now?"


    Kivoduin''s scowl deepened. "I just had a very interesting discussion with Captain Bialaer. When you asked me for a report with her signature on it I thought you wanted to check the guard rotas."


    She leant forward. Ilaran leant back. Soon she was standing on her tiptoes. If she hadn''t been holding onto the chair''s arms she would have fallen on top of him. It was such a strange sight, especially when Kivoduin was so much shorter than Ilaran, that Abi couldn''t help laughing.


    "You lied to me, your Highness."


    They can''t be married, Abi thought. She wouldn''t use his title if they were.


    "I didn''t lie," Ilaran said. "I never said what I wanted it for. You just assumed."


    Kivoduin crowded even further into his personal space. Now she was practically standing between his legs. Abi was mildly surprised he hadn''t pushed her away yet. She''d never thought Ilaran would put up with such disrespect. He looked thoroughly uncomfortable, yes. Was that a faint blush on his face? But he made no effort to make her move. He was so utterly still it almost looked as if he''d been turned to stone.


    "You know perfectly well--"


    Kivoduin stopped abruptly. She looked down, then up again sharply. Yes, Ilaran definitely was blushing. He studiously avoided meeting her eyes. Instead he acted as if the wallpaper to his right was the most interesting thing he''d ever seen. How odd.


    Kivoduin straightened up and took a step back. "Really?" Her voice was somewhere between offended and exasperated. "I thought you said you aren''t capable of that."


    Ilaran shrugged. His blush deepened while at the same time he looked insulted. "There''s nothing wrong with me. I said I''m just not interested."


    What has this got to do with the forged signature? Abi wondered. Her mind was still on the argument earlier. It hadn''t yet occurred to her that they were talking about something else entirely.


    "Not interested?" Kivoduin repeated, raising an eyebrow.


    Ilaran nodded. "In the same way I''m not particularly interested in a new house. I might accept if I was offered one, but I have no wish to go looking for one[3]."


    Kivoduin stared at him for a minute. "Did you just compare--"


    "Yes," Ilaran interrupted. "I know it''s not a good comparison. I didn''t exactly have time to think of a better one."


    Abi was still hopelessly confused. By now she''d figured out they weren''t talking about the signature. She still hadn''t realised what they were really talking about.


    For a minute they were silent. Ilaran finally stopped staring at the wallpaper long enough to glare at Kivoduin. "Well? Why are you still here?"


    Kivoduin blinked slowly. "You implied you would accept if someone offered."


    He looked at her sharply. "Possibly. If I... liked the person enough."


    "And if I offered?"


    Is she giving him a new house? Abi scratched her head. These veiled references and insinuations were just confusing her even more. Why didn''t they say what they meant?


    "...I''d accept," Ilaran said quietly.


    Kivoduin leant forward again and kissed him. Abi''s mind screeched to a halt. Oh. Oh. That was what they were talking about. In hindsight it was embarrassingly obvious.


    She turned and marched out of the memory. There were some things she didn''t even want to think about, much less see.


    <hr>


    Another hour had passed. Abi still hadn''t left that room. None of them had heard a sound from inside. Ir¨ªm¨¦ opened the door and peered in. Abi was still sitting in the chair by the bed. She looked as if she was asleep. Yet the room was full of magic, a sort of magic he didn''t understand and that set his teeth on edge. It wasn''t quite dark magic. But it wasn''t light magic either.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ closed the door with a shudder. He poked his head back into the sitting room.


    "I''m going to tell Abi''s parents where she is," he said. "They must be worried about her by now."


    <hr>


    The policemen sent to arrest Abi found they had a hard enough job just finding her. She wasn''t in her parents'' house. She wasn''t with any of her friends. She wasn''t at the Silver Palace. No one had seen her recently. In despair they went around all the royal palaces, asking the guards if they''d seen her.


    When they reached Kelth¨ªr Palace they finally found someone with information.


    "Oh yes, she came here a while ago," one of the guards said. "I think she left again."


    Well, it was better than nothing. The policemen resigned themselves to questioning all the guests in the palace.


    <hr>


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ walked out the front door and came face to face with a group of policemen.

 Chapter XXI: The Dragon

    It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him. -- J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit


    Many immortals were shapeshifters. Many more were said to be shapeshifters but had never been able to change into any other form. Then there were some who spent years believing they weren''t shapeshifters only to suddenly transform -- usually in a moment of extreme stress. People still hadn''t stopped laughing over the time a lawyer had turned into a rabbit right as the judge was about to pronounce sentence on his client.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ had laughed along with everyone else when he first heard that story. He''d never once believed something similar might ever happen to him. As far as he knew the priests and fortune-tellers had made a mistake. He wasn''t a dragon immortal. He wasn''t a shape-shifter at all.


    He stared silently at the approaching policemen with a strange sort of serenity. There was only one reason for them to be here. Well, they might be here about the assassin, but that situation had already been dealt with. Permanently dealt with. So there was only one other reason: Abi''s necromancy. Ir¨ªm¨¦ knew with the sort of knowledge that needed no confirmation that they were here to arrest Abi. He knew it just as well as he knew he would never let that happen.


    One of the policemen finally noticed him. Until now they''d all been preoccupied with staring into windows. So preoccupied they hadn''t seen Ir¨ªm¨¦ right in front of them. That was not exactly the behaviour anyone would expect from Her Majesty''s police force.


    "You there! Young man! Have you seen Princess Abihira lately?"


    Calmly and without any real emotion Ir¨ªm¨¦ said, "Yes."


    All of the policemen brightened up as if he''d given them the best news they''d heard all day. "Do you where she is now?"


    In spite of Ir¨ªm¨¦''s outward indifference, inwardly his chest was full of some writhing, stormy emotion he couldn''t understand. It wasn''t fear or anger. It wasn''t even worry. "Yes."


    "We have a warrant for her arrest. Can you take us to her?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked the speaker right in the eye. "No."


    The policemen looked at each other in dismay. Clearly they hadn''t expected this.


    "Young man," one of them said hesitantly, "if you don''t help us we''ll have to arrest you as an accomplice."


    Another of the group, more impatient than the rest, got tired of this useless conversation. He stormed forward and pushed past Ir¨ªm¨¦. Pointing to the open door he said, "She must be in there."


    The writhing emotion in Ir¨ªm¨¦''s chest suddenly resolved itself into magic he hadn''t known he was capable of. He reached for it without a second thought.


    Legends said many things about dragons. No two were alike. Some breathed fire, some were large enough to blot out the sun when they spread their wings, some lived in the coldest parts of the sea, some hoarded gold and some hoarded knowledge. But every legend agreed on one thing. No one should ever get between a dragon and something it was protecting.


    <hr>


    The palace guards were very confused when the policemen ran past them, screaming at the tops of their lungs. Some of the braver guards ventured out to see what had scared them.


    A dragon lay on the palace lawn. A relatively small dragon compared to some; it was barely the size of a small cottage while others were said to be as huge as mountains. A dragon with brilliant blue scales and a white underbelly. A dragon with large blue eyes and thin lines of smoke rising from its nostrils. Its tail curled around its body like a cat''s. It looked at the guards with calm indifference.


    One of them dared to approach it. As soon as she got too close the dragon growled. Wisely she decided discretion was the better part of valour. She fled as if a horde of demons were after her.


    <hr>


    Abi steadfastly avoided as many of Ilaran''s memories as she could. When she had to stop for a rest she closed her eyes and covered her ears. She did not want to spy on someone else''s... relationship. No matter how inadvertently.


    I must be near the end now, she thought.


    She risked opening her eyes ever so slightly. Luckily there was nothing intimate or embarrassing about this memory. It was a perfectly mundane one, of Ilaran writing a letter. Mundane but not very interesting. The most notable thing about it was that he now looked the same age as he had been when he died. She must be getting very close to the end of his memories. What happened then? Would she find his soul there or would this have all been for nothing?


    Abi was about to move on when someone knocked the study door.


    "Come in," Ilaran said.


    Kivoduin opened the door. Abi turned red and prepared to leave at the first sign of any, ahem, affection. "I''ve booked your train ticket."


    "Thank you."


    Odd. There was nothing in their interactions or how they looked at each other to suggest they were lovers. If Abi hadn''t seen that earlier memory she would have assumed they were nothing more than friends.


    "Are you sure about this?" Kivoduin asked.


    Ilaran folded up the letter and put it in an envelope. "Yes. I have to find out what happened to Siarvin. I''ve stood by and done nothing for long enough."


    Ah. So this was just before he left for Eldrin. Haliran''s trial wasn''t far ahead. Neither was Ilaran''s death. Abi moved on. It felt like her stomach had turned to lead. That feeling only intensified as she relived Ilaran meeting with Siarvin and Shizuki, tracking down Koyuki, and stumbling upon herself and Ir¨ªm¨¦ in the graveyard.


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    Good gods, Abi thought as she stared at herself. Was I really that muddy?


    There was unfortunately no way to deny that Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ made a very sorry spectacle when covered in mud. The present-day Abi turned away from her memory self to look at the fourth member of the tableau.


    There she was. The corpse that had caused so much trouble. Ilaran''s murderer. Abi couldn''t bear to look at her for long. She might as well have been the personification of all her mistakes.


    She moved on again. Every step felt like she was walking down into her own grave.


    Abi reprimanded herself, Don''t be silly. You''re not the one who died.


    She had already seen Ilaran bleed to death once. She didn''t want to see it again. But even so she couldn''t help watch in horrified despair as the corpse charged at Ilaran. There were so many moments when she could have stopped it. If she hadn''t been so distracted by the assassin''s corpse she could have seen it approach. If she hadn''t been so dazed she could have pulled it away from Ilaran.


    But she was distracted and dazed. The corpse did attack Ilaran. And again she watched him bleed out in her arms.


    The memory faded away with the last beat of Ilaran''s heart. Abi stood amidst the grey mist again. She was the only person in a sea of emptiness. Yet the path still led on. Slowly she walked onwards. She discovered the existence of another wall in the same way she discovered the first one.


    "Ow!"


    For the second time on this trip Abi rubbed her aching nose. She glared at the invisible wall ahead of her. Once again she leant against it. Once against it gave way and she stumbled into another world.


    She noticed three things in quick succession. First, there were no colours in this world. Ilaran''s memories had started out very colourful, far more colourful than the real world normally was. As he got older the colours faded. By the time Nuvildu died they were almost in black and white. Over the years after that they gradually regained colours, but they were never as bright as they had been when he was a child. Compared to this place even the black and white memories were a riot of colour. There was nothing but black and grey everywhere she looked.


    Second, the air was unnaturally stale. It caught at the back of her throat and filled her lungs like a solid thing. Abi coughed. Each breath felt like she was slowly suffocating.


    Third, she was standing on a stone floor in the middle of a vast room. She''d never seen such strange stone before. It glinted like glass even though there was no light for it to reflect.


    In front of her she heard a voice. A very familiar voice.


    "Oh, thank god." That was followed almost immediately by, "What took you so long?"


    Abi was slightly too preoccupied with trying not to choke on the air to answer. She looked up and glared at Ilaran. He could be a little more grateful. Especially after all the trouble she was going to just to rescue him.


    Her eyes fell on the room''s other occupant. Suddenly the stifling air wasn''t the only reason she couldn''t breathe.


    If she had passed that woman on the street Abi would have thought she was only an unusually tall woman, so pale she looked sick. In this place, surrounded by an intangible yet undeniable aura of power, there was no doubt who she was.


    Abi bowed awkwardly. It would never do to offend Death herself, after all. Especially when she was here to raise the dead. Then she looked at Ilaran. She knew she owed him an apology for going through his memories. But what could she say? How could she ever explain that?


    "Don''t bother," Ilaran said flatly. "I''ve seen all of your memories too. At the risk of sounding rude, I want to erase them from my mind and never think of them again."


    Perfectly reasonable. That was just what she wanted to do too. She looked questioningly at Death.


    "What happens now? Do we just walk out of here?"


    "More or less," Death agreed. "The path that led you in here will lead you out again. Follow it until you get back to the Land of the Living. Oh, and one more thing. You must never look back or you''ll both be stuck here forever."


    What a delightful thought. Abi couldn''t suppress her shudder. Then a thought occurred to her. "Wait, we have to go back over all those memories again?"


    "No. Not when Ilaran is with you. You didn''t have to go through them the first time either. Only an incompetent necromancer would get so badly tangled in someone else''s mind."


    Abi did a decent imitation of someone who''d been turned to stone. "You mean I could have avoided all of that? How?"


    Death shook her head with an infuriating smile. "I can''t stop you performing necromancy, but I''m certainly not going to make it easy for you. Now get out of here. I have work to do."


    What work does Death have to do? Abi wondered. She realised how stupid that question was before she asked it.


    "Well?" Ilaran said. "What are you waiting for?" To Death he added, "No offense, but I hope I never see you again."


    She said nothing.


    <hr>


    Many strange things happened every day. Some of them attracted more attention than others. A dragon taking up residence in a royal palace was one of the things no one could ignore. The policemen fled back to the station and called for help. Before long a small battalion of soldiers, policemen, and curious onlookers advanced on the palace.


    The dragon tolerated their presence until they came too close. Then he gave a warning growl. Some of them were too foolish to heed the warning.


    Seconds later they ran for their lives in the other direction, singed and yelping, as the dragon breathed a burst of flames at them.


    A few of the less panic-stricken spectators were surprised to see something bright green coiled around the dragon''s neck. At first they mistook it for a scarf. But what use did a dragon have for a scarf? A closer look revealed it was a snake. A long, green snake with its head resting on top of the dragon''s.


    <hr>


    Back in the house, Siarvin and Koyuki face-palmed.


    "I told Shizuki to show proper respect!" Koyuki complained, shaking his head as he looked at the snake. "How could he think that''s what I meant?"


    Siarvin''s thoughts ran along a different line. "Could Ir¨ªm¨¦ draw more attention to us if he tried?"


    A tremendous clatter arose in the bedroom. Both men jumped violently. They exchanged alarmed looks. Then, very carefully, they tiptoed towards the door.


    It was flung open just as they reached it. Siarvin screamed. Koyuki leapt backwards. Ilaran stood in the doorway -- a blood-stained, pale, but undeniably alive Ilaran. He stared at them. They stared at him. In the background Abihira complained loudly about chairs placed right where she would trip over them.


    At last Ilaran spoke. "Well? What''s wrong? You both look like you''ve seen a ghost."


    There was only one possible response to such an awful joke. Siarvin swatted his shoulder -- lightly, just in case he aggravated his neck injury -- and pulled him into a hug.


    Abihira hopped over to the door, grumbling under her breath about her leg probably being broken. "Where''s Ir¨ªm¨¦?"


    <hr>


    It was a very easy question to answer. A dragon in the garden wasn''t exactly the sort of thing anyone could avoid seeing.


    Abi stared at Ir¨ªm¨¦. He stared back at her. Shizuki raised his head and hissed a greeting from where he was still curled around Ir¨ªm¨¦''s neck.


    "Why are you still a dragon?" Abi asked, bemused. "I''m not in danger now."


    If a dragon could ever look sheepish, Ir¨ªm¨¦ did in that moment. A very unpleasant possibility occurred to Abi.


    "Don''t tell me. You don''t know how to change back, do you?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ shook his head.


    <hr>


    Ilaran stared out the window at the dragon, the snake, and the necromancer talking to them. "...Tell me, someone. Just what happened while I was dead?"


    END OF BOOK 2

 Book 3: Hopeless

BOOK THREE: HOPELESS


    To love means loving the unlovable. To forgive means pardoning the unpardonable. Faith means believing the unbelievable. Hope means hoping when everything seems hopeless. -- G. K. Chesterton


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 Chapter I: Have You Heard?

    "Look, how about this? Let''s pretend we''ve had the row and I''ve won. See? It saves a lot of effort." -- Terry Pratchett, Mort


    The Palace of Serenity was not nearly as peaceful as its name suggested. One would think that it would have become much more serene since both Abihira and Kiriyuki had left it. After all, one was the biggest troublemaker Seroyawa had seen since Hiyori Nanairo kou Amatsukaze[1] while the other was the Crown Princess and constantly involved in some political drama or other. One would think wrong. Mirio had never seen the palace in such an uproar. Diplomats, politicians and scribes sent and received letters from Saoridhl¨¦m every few hours. Everyone was trying their best to pretend Kiriyuki hadn''t run away but had simply made an unexpected visit. To keep up the pretence they were hastily cobbling together a list of places for her to go before her return.


    The whole charade was invented for the benefit of the tabloids. A princess disappearing was the sort of scandal a certain type of journalist thrived on. Unfortunately they weren''t fooled. On his most recent trip into the city Mirio had seen a shop full of gossip rags discussing Kiriyuki. And not just Kiriyuki. The anonymous authors already moved on to speculating on what the emperor''s other children were doing behind closed doors. The mildest of those speculations could have landed the author in jail for libel. The strangest piece of gossip said Kiriyuki had run away as part of a plot to frame someone for murdering her.


    When his idiotic sister finally deigned to come home Mirio didn''t know how he''d resist the temptation to throw her into the fishpond.


    For the sake of his sanity he avoided the rest of his family as much as possible. On the rare occasions Mirio did meet them he saw they were as unhappy as he was. His father was constantly growling imprecations under his breath. His step-mother was beginning to look mildly strained, which meant she was near breaking point and would decapitate the next person to give her any reason to worry. Nozomi took up the duties Kiriyuki had abandoned -- in addition to his own duties -- and spent most of his time visiting one or other of the charities Kiriyuki funded. Seitomu was seized with a sudden bout of familial affection and went to stay with Aunt Sumire. Azurin gained a newfound enthusiasm for her studies and rarely left the library.


    Mirio had no friends and few acquaintances. For over five hundred years his closest friends had been Kiriyuki and Abihira, both of whom were now on the other side of the ocean. He didn''t even have someone he could go to for advice or a friendly chat -- unless you counted his mother, who in accordance with protocol he should only visit once a month.


    Seroyawan emperors traditionally had only one official wife but as many concubines as they wanted. The previous emperor had sixteen concubines and two children by each of them. The royal court knew how to deal with a situation like that. There was protocol, precedent, and a strict hierarchy among the wives and child. But then there was the current emperor. By his ancestors'' standards Mirio''s father was practically a bachelor. He had only one concubine, and one who he had married for political reasons rather than through any wish of his own. There was no precedent for a situation like this. Nor could there be a strict hierarchy when the empress''s children insisted on treating the concubine''s son as their full brother.


    No one knew what to do in a situation like this. Hence the icy politeness the rest of the court showed to Mirio and his mother, the sort of politeness that kept them at arm''s length. So while his half-siblings found various ways to occupy their time, Mirio was left alone without anyone to talk to and nothing to do. It was the sort of situation that would grate on anyone.


    If he had been less bored he might not have jumped at the chance to visit his maternal uncle. And if he hadn''t agreed to that visit, everything that followed could perhaps have been avoided.


    It began with his mother specifically requesting him to visit her. That was a rarity of the kind that usually happened only once a century. Mirio went to the Western Palace expecting to hear yet another lecture on how he was partly to blame for Kiriyuki''s stupidity. Instead he found his mother had already prepared tea and was reading a letter as she waited for his arrival. That was unusual on its own. Lady Yuriya rarely received letters. She wasn''t important enough or famous enough for people to send her information about matters they wanted her to raise with the emperor.


    Mirio went through the required greeting ceremony and accepted the cup of tea. He didn''t ask about the letter. Either his mother would tell him what it was or she wouldn''t, and if she didn''t then it was none of his business. It wasn''t a good idea to be too curious about anything.


    At first they talked about inconsequential things, like Lady Yuriya''s troubles with her garden and the fashion of Mirio''s new coat. Finally Lady Yuriya turned to the reason she''d requested this visit.


    "My brother sent me a letter." Her brother was the Emperor of Gengxin and was not in the habit of writing to her. He remembered she existed only during family crises, like the deaths of their parents. He remembered Mirio''s existence at most once every other century, usually when he was annoyed with one of his own children. "He would like you to come and stay with him for a while."


    I wonder which cousin is in disgrace this time, Mirio thought.


    "His oldest son -- you remember poor Zi Xiao, don''t you? -- has died of plague."


    Mirio did remember Zi Xiao. "Poor" was not an adjective he would ever have applied to his oldest cousin. As for the plague, it was more likely he''d died of the pox. No wonder Uncle Shi Zheng wanted Mirio to visit. The death of the Crown Prince would always cause a power struggle. His cousins might, just might, behave themselves better if a foreigner was present.


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    "Your uncle thinks your presence would be a comfort to everyone."


    Mirio could think of at least eight people who would not be at all comforted by his presence. All of them were his cousins and all of them would want him to go home so they could return to backstabbing each other in peace.


    "I''ll get ready right away," he said.


    <hr>


    If Ir¨ªm¨¦ was asked to decide what sort of animal he''d like to be stuck in the form of, he probably would have chosen a dog or bird. Not a dragon. Of course, if given the choice he would much rather not be stuck in any form. But if he had to be, a small one would be better. Much easier to avoid notice that way. It was impossible to avoid notice when you were a dragon.


    On the bright side, he''d made a new friend. Snakes and dragons were apparently closer than anyone realised. Ir¨ªm¨¦ could understand Shizuki''s hisses, and Shizuki could understand Ir¨ªm¨¦''s growls. On the much less bright side, he''d just become the biggest tourist attraction in Eldrin.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ stared at the gathered crowd in dismay. The placement of his eyes on either side of his skull made it difficult to look at anything directly in front of him, but he could tell there were at least a hundred of the sightseers. They came and went in ways that suggested distinct groups coming to see him for a specific length of time then leaving to make room for the next group. It was mortifying.


    Abi was no help at all. There was a strange dark cloud hanging over her ever since she''d walked out of the front door, something that hadn''t been there when she went into that room. Or maybe it was just a trick of Ir¨ªm¨¦''s eyesight. But whether it was really there or not, it hadn''t given her any more common sense than she usually had.


    "Why don''t you just fly away?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ could not speak in this form. He did his best to convey how stupid he thought she was through his eyes alone.


    Dragons haven''t been seen in Eldrin for over twenty thousand years, he thought very loudly in her general direction. People might notice one if it flew overhead. Anyway, I don''t know how to fly.


    Abi gave no sign of having heard. She looked up at Ir¨ªm¨¦ expectantly, still waiting for an answer. He groaned and buried his head in his hands -- or paws, or whatever they were called now.


    Only you could manage to make a mess of turning into a dragon, a little voice in his head whispered. It sounded disturbingly like his mother.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ ignored it and began wishing very hard to turn back into an immortal -- or else to become invisible.


    <hr>


    News spread like wildfire. In shops, houses, schools and offices the same words were repeated.


    "Have you heard? There''s a dragon in the city!"


    Kiriyuki, still half-asleep and somewhat woozy after drinking so much, heard it from another patron at the hotel''s bar. It sobered her up at once. "A dragon? Where?"


    The other woman shrugged. "I don''t know where exactly. Somewhere around the palace, I think. I heard it from my nephew''s secretary who heard it from the postman who said a palace guard told him about it himself."


    There was usually only one person to blame when something like this happened. If she had actually summoned a dragon then Abi had really surpassed herself this time. Kiriyuki set off for the palace with a grim frown, unsure what she''d find but certain of who to blame for it.


    <hr>


    "Have you heard? There''s a dragon outside Gihimayel Palace!"


    Raiv¨ªth had been in the middle of embroidering flowers on a blanket for her latest great-granddaughter. Only years of experience hearing similarly shocking news prevented her from accidentally stabbing her finger. She set down the fabric and looked up at her husband.


    "There''s a what outside where?"


    Ninuath nodded. "That was my reaction too. No one can give me any more information yet. I''ve heard some wild rumours about assassins and venomous snakes and gods know what else. But the dragon does exist. I went up to the tower and saw it in the garden."


    "It''s not attacking anyone, is it?" Raiv¨ªth asked, just to make sure. She didn''t think so -- Ninuath would have been more upset if it was -- but even so, dragons were not the sort of thing you liked to have in your garden.


    "No. It''s just lying there and letting people stare at it."


    Raiv¨ªth wrapped up the blanket and put it back in her sewing drawer. "We''d better go and see what''s happening." The memory of Abihira''s antics made her add, "I have a suspicion about who''s responsible."


    <hr>


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ knew something new was happening when all the sight-seers began to be herded away. He waited resignedly for whatever would happen next. In hindsight he should have expected the empress to come and investigate personally. All the same, it was a shock to see her step out of the carriage that had just pulled up.


    Shizuki slithered off Ir¨ªm¨¦''s neck and down onto the grass. He turned back into a boy as easily as breathing. Ir¨ªm¨¦ watched him enviously. How did he do that?


    "Hello," Shizuki chirped, bowing to the empress as she approached. "Abihira''s inside."


    "I''m not here to see her," Raiv¨ªth said. She stared very hard at Ir¨ªm¨¦. He redoubled his efforts to become invisible through sheer force of will. "Would someone please explain what''s going on here?"


    <hr>


    All the excitement in the last few hours alone was enough to make anyone long for a quiet life. To her own astonishment Abi found the thought of going anywhere or doing anything was too much for her to bear. She wished for nothing more than to go to sleep for a hundred years. When she finished talking to Ir¨ªm¨¦ she went back into the palace, collapsed into an armchair, and did her best to make that wish a reality.


    It didn''t work. Every few minutes she would almost drop off to sleep. Every few minutes she would abruptly be yanked back to full awakeness by nothing in particular. She stared blankly at the wallpaper, dimly aware there was something odd about this but too tired to investigate further.


    Knowledge of what was happening around her occasionally forced its way through her sleepiness and made her take note of it. Siarvin was fussing over Ilaran like a mother hen worrying about a very stupid chick. Koyuki was examining the bite-mark on Ilaran''s neck with an alarmed expression. Ilaran was snapping at both of them to leave him alone and to stop acting like he was about to drop dead again.


    Something nagged at the back of her mind. It was something very small but very insistent. The trouble was, she couldn''t imagine what it was.


    Voices outside drifted through the boarded-up window. She paid no attention to what they were saying. Then there was a series of shocked exclamations, the sound of a door opening, and a clamour of several people talking. Abi listened without understanding anything she heard.


    At last a very familiar voice jolted her from her half-sleep half-daze. It was her grandmother''s.


    "Abihira Hartannasv¨®eln, what in the name of all the gods have you done now?"

 Chapter II: The Game Begins

    So many things are possible just as long as you don''t know they''re impossible. -- Norton Juster, The Phantom Tollbooth


    Abi stared up at her grandmother. Her grandmother glared back at her. Over her grandmother''s shoulder she caught sight of her grandfather giving her a glare of his own. Abi thought of the assassin. Of Ilaran''s death. Of her trip through his memories and into the Land of the Dead. Of Ir¨ªm¨¦ as a dragon. She paled.


    "Hello, granny and granddad!" she exclaimed with a false attempt at cheer. If she pretended she hadn''t a care in the world maybe they would believe it. "I was just--"


    "There''s a dragon outside," her grandfather interrupted.


    Abi''s force smile began to slip away in spite of her attempts to keep it in place. "Oh. Er, is there? I mean, yes. Yes. Of course there is." She kept trying to smile while she internally yelled at herself to stop babbling nonsense.


    "Shizuki tells us it''s your fianc¨¦."


    Abi''s smile completely disappeared. She searched for an explanation. How could she tell her grandparents "I raised a corpse, an assassin tried to kill me, the corpse killed Ilaran, I brought him back to life, and while all this was happening Ir¨ªm¨¦ turned into a dragon"? It was impossible.


    "Well?" her grandmother asked, tapping her foot against the floor. "Doesn''t he know what a spectacle he''s making of himself? Why is he a dragon and why hasn''t he turned back yet?"


    Abi looked everywhere except at them. "That''s the problem. He doesn''t know how."


    A very uncomfortable silence fell over the room. She knew without looking that her grandparents were staring at her in horror.


    "He doesn''t know how?" her grandfather repeated faintly.


    Luckily someone else came along at this point to take the situation out of Abi''s hands. The sitting room door opened and Ilaran poked his head around it.


    "It''s a long story," he said, which was both an understatement of incredible proportions and suggested he must have been listening right outside. "In short, he transformed without meaning to and in a moment of panic. We''ve all heard of such things happening before."


    The memory of that story about the lawyer turning into a rabbit popped into Abi''s mind. It took a great deal of effort not to burst out laughing.


    Ilaran continued, "But I think Shizuki might be able to help."


    "He''d better," Raiv¨ªth said grimly. "Before everyone remembers what happened the last time a dragon was on the loose in the city."


    Abi barely heard that part. She was much more preoccupied by worrying about whether or not anyone could tell what had happened to Ilaran. She stared at him intently. Was he paler than normal? He had always been so pale that it wasn''t really noticeable. Was his wound visible? No, he had his hair draped over his left shoulder so it concealed his neck. All the same she waited on tenterhooks for someone to ask if something was wrong with him. No one did. She only really relaxed when her grandparents left the sitting room.


    So far so good. Now they just had to worry about Ir¨ªm¨¦.


    <hr>


    Shizuki was not impressed when he heard he was expected to teach Ir¨ªm¨¦ how to turn back into an immortal.


    "But I like him as a dragon!" he complained. "I''ve always wanted to meet a dragon."


    Siarvin did not actually close his eyes and count to ten, but it was a near thing. He kept smiling even though he wanted to groan. "Yes, but you wouldn''t like to be stuck as a snake all the time. Once he learns to control his powers Ir¨ªm¨¦ can turn into a dragon whenever he wants to."


    Shizuki continued to look mutinous. Ir¨ªm¨¦ raised his head and growled very faintly. Siarvin glanced warily at him. He didn''t think Ir¨ªm¨¦ was the sort of dragon that would breathe fire at anyone who annoyed them, but he also wasn''t quite at ease being so close to something ten times bigger than him with very sharp teeth.


    Shizuki turned and pouted at Ir¨ªm¨¦. "Why do you wanna turn back? There''s nothing great about immortals."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ growled again.


    "All right," Shizuki mumbled, sounding like he had just agreed to make a great personal sacrifice. "I''ll teach you if you want to know so much. But you have to take me flying some day! A really high flight! I want to see if clouds are as solid as they look!"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked at Siarvin. Siarvin looked at Ir¨ªm¨¦. Both of them understood exactly what the other was thinking: Over my dead body!


    <hr>


    Kiriyuki arrived at Gihimayel Palace just in time to run into a large crowd of disgruntled tourists coming through the gate. There were so many of them that they filled the entire road. No one could possibly get past unless they wanted to literally fight their way through. Kiriyuki squeezed herself against the hedge and waited for the herd to go past.


    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.


    All of them were busy complaining to each other. She couldn''t help overhearing parts of their conversations, even though their accents combined with the sheer volume of so many voices at once made it difficult to understand everything.


    "So rude--"


    "Why can''t we see it?"


    "--most excitement since the Prime Minister broke his neck--"


    "Where did it come from?"


    "Mummy, can we get a pet dragon?"


    At last they passed by. Kiriyuki approached the gate. She was promptly stopped by the guards.


    "Sorry, Your Highness, no one''s allowed in. Her Majesty''s orders."


    Kiriyuki only just suppressed a groan. "What''s happened? Is there really a dragon?"


    Both guards nodded emphatically.


    "It''s as big as a house!" one of them said.


    "No, you idiot, it''s as big as a castle!"


    Kiriyuki watched in mild bemusement as the two of them got into an argument over just how big the dragon was. Of all the things they could be worried about, that was really at the bottom of the list. There were much more important questions to ask. Questions like "where did it come from" and "who brought it here".


    <hr>


    "It''s very easy. You just think of being an immortal and then you become one." Shizuki turned himself into a snake, then into a boy, then into a snake again to demonstrate. "See? Now you try!"


    It was all very well for him to say it was easy. He''d never had to learn how to change forms. Ir¨ªm¨¦ followed his instructions without much hope of success. He''d been wishing to become an immortal again for ages and it hadn''t worked yet. Nor did it work this time. He was still a dragon.


    Shizuki blinked up at him in confusion. "What went wrong?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ tried to shrug and almost fell over. Suddenly having wings had a very bad effect on his balance.


    The only thing preventing this from being a complete catastrophe was the fact Shizuki was now the only witness. Everyone else had politely decided not to watch Ir¨ªm¨¦''s attempts at shapeshifting. They''d all gone to the main entrance hall of Gihimayel Palace. His pride would never have recovered if they were still here to watch this.


    He tried to remember what had happened when he first became a dragon. He''d wanted to scare the policemen away. The next thing he knew he was staring down at them from a great height, and they had suddenly become very small.


    Shizuki frowned thoughtfully. "Are you using magic to change back?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ nodded. "Of course."


    "You shouldn''t! You don''t have to!"


    Now it does seem like he could have said that earlier.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ consciously pushed his magic away. He thought of being an immortal. I want to change back, he thought very hard.


    The next thing he knew he''d overbalanced and was lying face down on the grass. He sat up and found that either he''d shrunk or everything around him -- the palace, the garden, and even the trees -- had grown. In the background Shizuki let out an excited shriek.


    "It worked! Now turn back! And learn how to fly this time!"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ studied his hands. He grabbed a fistful of his hair. He pinched his arm to make absolutely sure he wasn''t dreaming.


    "Come ooooooonnn," Shizuki whined, doing his best impression of a puppy begging for treats. "Turn back!"


    "Absolutely not," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said firmly. "I''ve had enough of being a dragon to last me a lifetime, thank you very much."


    <hr>


    Ilaran was used to hiding all sorts of things from people he was forced to make small talk with. This wasn''t even the first time he''d had to conceal an injury. It was just the first time he''d had to conceal a fatal injury. He suppressed the urge to adjust his collar. The bite-mark was stitched up and hidden beneath a bandage, which in turn was hidden beneath his high collar and further hidden by his hair. Even so he kept expecting someone to comment on it.


    There should be pain with such a horrible injury. He knew it had hurt when the corpse first bit him. But now he didn''t feel so much as a dull throb. The only discomfort from it was when he moved his head too far to the side and pulled on the stitches. Even that wasn''t really pain.


    I hope that''s not serious, he thought while he offered Emperor Ninuath another cup of tea. How could I explain this to a doctor?


    By general and unspoken consensus no one had mentioned anything to do with the events earlier. They hadn''t even told their guests about the assassin. There was no point. Ilaran was fine, he was alive, and there was absolutely no point in stirring up trouble.


    From time to time he pressed his fingers against his wrist to make sure his heart was still beating. It was. He was still breathing. He could still drink tea and eat biscuits, so there was little chance of him turning into a monster that craved human flesh.


    So why did he feel like something was very badly wrong somewhere?


    All things considered it was a relief when Shizuki walked into the hall, accompanied by an undragonified Ir¨ªm¨¦. At any rate it gave everyone something else to focus on, so there was less chance anyone would pay attention to Ilaran.


    <hr>


    The kingdom of Gengxin was relatively new. It had formed over thirty thousand years ago, one of many kingdoms to rise from the ashes of the Dan Chi Federation. King Shi Zheng was only its second king. His father had been a general who proclaimed himself king. In his pursuit of a crown he''d married his daughter to Seroyawa''s Crown Prince in exchange for foreign support. Since then Gengxin had very little trouble with its neighbours.


    All of its troubles came from within.


    After sending the letter to his sister Shi Zheng paced around his office for a long time. Zi Xiao had been young and healthy. No plague should have killed him so quickly. Now the Second Prince was sick too. Strange how both princes were constantly surrounded by their servants yet no one else had so much as a high temperature. There was something suspicious about this.


    Then there was the Ninth Prince. Poor Zi Yao. He''d never been strong. If he caught this mysterious disease it would finish him for sure.


    Thinking of Zi Yao inevitably brought Shi Zheng''s thoughts round to his youngest son''s healer. No one in the palace liked that man. He was a foreigner, which was never a recipe for popularity, and a very odd foreigner into the bargain. But he could keep Zi Yao alive and relatively healthy. None of Gengxin''s physicians had been able to stop the seizures.


    Perhaps he could cure this disease as easily as he cured Zi Yao.


    Shi Zheng sent a eunuch to summon the healer. He arrived within ten minutes.


    "How is the Ninth Prince today?" Shi Zheng asked.


    "He is well, your Majesty," Lian replied, bowing. Like all foreigners the healer had some unpronounceable name in his native language. No one had ever bothered to learn it, so within weeks of arriving he had adopted a Gengxinish name. Now he was known as Lian. "He played with the Eighth Prince for an hour this afternoon."


    "He doesn''t have a temperature?"


    "No, your Majesty."


    Abruptly Shi Zheng said, "I want you to check the Second Prince. See what you think is wrong with him."


    If Lian was surprised or annoyed at the order he didn''t show it. He bowed again as he said, "Yes, your Majesty."


    "You''re dismissed."


    The healer left. Shi Zheng went back to worrying about the strange plague. So far it didn''t seem to be contagious. But what if that changed?


    Perhaps he shouldn''t have asked his nephew to visit after all.

 Chapter III: Boy Meets Ghoul

    I''ve learnt to live in shadows


    Even without the light


    I''ve learnt to love the battles


    Only the strong survive


    -- Citizen Soldier, Hallelujah (I''m Not Dead)


    The Silver Palace''s cells were never meant to be a permanent prison. They were just temporary holding cells for important criminals until arrangements could be made to transfer them to an actual prison.


    Haliran waited impatiently for the guards to take her out of here. She couldn''t escape from this cell, but there was a chance she could from wherever she was going. All she had to do was wait for an opportunity. If only the guards would hurry up and make the arrangements!


    She waited. And waited. And waited. From time to time she wondered if this was part of Siarvin and Ilaran''s revenge plan. Were they trying to drive her insane through sheer boredom?


    A day passed. Then another. Soon a full week had passed. The only way of measuring time was in how often the guards brought her food and the doctor came to examine her arm. No one came to visit her. Haliran didn''t know if she''d been completely forgotten or if this was another way for Siarvin to get revenge. If she had been in his place she would have come every day to gloat over her enemy''s downfall. But he had only visited once, and Ilaran never came at all. That grated on her. Was she so unimportant that she wasn''t even worth the trouble of coming to see?


    When she was finally moved she got no advance warning. She woke up at some ungodly hour to find a group of guards standing over her.


    "Come with us," the leader ordered.


    None of them said another word. They marched her out of the palace, into a carriage, and took her to another prison without opening their mouths. No one even told her where she''d been brought. She was locked into her new cell and left to make sense of the situation on her own.


    <hr>


    Improbable though it seemed, everything went back to normal after Ir¨ªm¨¦ stopped being a dragon. No one said any more about the fiasco at the festival. Abi''s parents continued making arrangements for the wedding. Their previous arrangements had been thrown into disarray by Ir¨ªm¨¦''s new job and move to Tananerl. Ir¨ªm¨¦ continued to stay with his mother, but he spent almost every day wandering around the shops. Judging by his luggage, he was buying enough clothes to set up a small shop.


    "Why do you need so many clothes?" Abi asked when they met for one of their weekly -- and rather awkward -- trips to a coffee shop. (Arranged by their parents, of course, who were firmly convinced they needed to spend more time together. Neither Abi nor Ir¨ªm¨¦ would have found having coffee together half so awkward if they weren''t forced into it.)


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ blushed faintly. "I don''t actually need them. It''s just... I''ve never been able to buy anything of my own. My mother used to choose all my clothes for me. So when Ilaran gave me my first month''s wages in advance I decided to buy my own clothes without letting my mother interfere."


    That seemed like a silly reason to buy clothes. But what do I know? Abi thought. I''m able to buy whatever I want.


    After the dragon incident Abi had left Gihimayel Palace to find Kiriyuki waiting for her. She''d been questioned to within an inch of her life before she could convince her sister this wasn''t her fault for once. Abi had been avoiding Kiriyuki ever since. She was also trying to avoid Kitri, who had left before the assassin and the dragon. Explaining what had happened after she left was more than Abi could bear. So far she''d only seen Kitri in passing or at social events, when no one could ask awkward questions. She''d like to keep it that way for as long as possible. She was trying her best to blot the entire sorry business out of her mind.


    It wasn''t easy when every time she fell asleep she dreamt of the Land of the Dead. When she woke up sometimes unable to breathe, with the memory of choking as she tried to breathe the air in that throne room. When she looked in the mirror and could swear she saw an indistinct figure in the shadows behind her.


    Raising Ilaran from the dead had done what the corpse at the festival and her grandmother''s warnings couldn''t. Abi no longer had the slightest wish to meddle with necromancy. The thought of facing Death again made her shudder.


    Without her necromancy studies she looked around for something else to pass the time. In addition to Kiriyuki and Kitri she was avoiding Arafaren and Ilaran. Arafaren because he was an infernal nuisance who asked too many questions, and Ilaran because... Well, what was she to say to someone when she''d unwillingly seen most of his memories? She couldn''t look him in the eye without blushing when she remembered witnessing his conversation with Kivoduin, and she felt she had to offer her condolences for Nuvildu''s death even though it had happened millennia ago. So visiting her acquaintances was out of the question.


    For want of anything better to do she took up reading. In a week she read more than she usually read in a year. When not out with Ir¨ªm¨¦ she spent most of her time in her parents'' library.


    That was where Kitri found her when she finally came looking for her.


    "I never thought the day would come when you''d take up a sane hobby," she said by way of greeting.


    Abi put down her book and suppressed the urge to run away. "Hello, Kitri. What do you want?"


    Kitri didn''t answer at first. She stared at Abi as if she was a specimen under a microscope. "...Are you sick?"


    "No?" Abi said, bemused. "At least I don''t think so. Why?"


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    "You look... strange. Like you''re not all there. Well, I mean, you never have been all there mentally, but now you''re almost... transparent."


    Abi looked down at herself. She was as solid as ever. "What are you talking about?"


    Kitri shrugged. "I suppose it''s just a trick of the light. Anyway, I came to say I''m going home tomorrow. I want you to promise never to meddle with necromancy again."


    "I promise," Abi said, and meant it this time. "I don''t think it was such a good idea after all."


    "That," said Kitri with an air of profound relief, "is the most sensible thing you''ve ever said in ages."


    Both Abi and Kitri would have been much less at ease if they had known what the future held. For better or for worse they were blissfully ignorant. Abi sincerely believed she would never attempt necromancy again. She made her promise with no intention of breaking it. She just didn''t know that events were conspiring against her.


    <hr>


    Siarvin awoke with a jolt. It was so dark that he could tell at once it was the middle of the night. No one should be awake at this time. So what had disturbed him? He lay silent for several minutes before he realised what it was. His bed was on the other side of the room to Ilaran''s, but even so he could normally hear Ilaran''s breathing. Now there wasn''t the faintest noise to be heard.


    He sat bolt upright. His first terrible thought was that something had happened. Did necromancy have a time limit? Was Ilaran''s wound more serious than he thought, even after stitching it up and using magic to heal the worst of it? He turned on the bedside lamp.


    Ilaran''s bed was empty.


    Siarvin waited for several minutes. Ilaran didn''t come back. There was no noise from the rest of the house. Mildly alarmed, Siarvin got out of bed and went to see what was wrong. When he opened the bedroom door he saw the kitchen light was on. He heard the faint crackle of paper being crumpled up. Bemused, he crossed the hall and pushed the kitchen door open.


    Ilaran sat at the table, clutching a sheet on paper so tightly it looked like he would tear it at any minute. There were lines of scribbles on the paper, but Siarvin couldn''t read what they said.


    "What are you doing?" Siarvin asked.


    Ilaran looked up sharply, as if he hadn''t realised anyone was there. Odd. He was usually more alert than that, and Siarvin hadn''t made any effort to conceal his presence.


    "Nothing," Ilaran said. He rolled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the bin.


    "Nothing?" Siarvin repeated dubiously. "Why are you awake at--" He checked the clock, "--three in the morning?"


    "I was hungry, so I made myself a sandwich."


    Siarvin stared. For a minute he could have sworn that Ilaran flickered in and out of focus, as if he''d become transparent for just a second. "...Are you all right?"


    "Yes! Fine." His answer was far too quick and given with too much force to be convincing.


    Oh well. If Ilaran wanted to get up in the middle of the night, have a sandwich, and scribble something then throw it away, there was no law against it. All the same, Siarvin went back to bed feeling ill at ease. He lay awake for an hour. Ilaran didn''t come back. When he awoke the next morning he found Ilaran was still gone. Only now he''d left the palace entirely.


    <hr>


    It had crept on so slowly that Ilaran couldn''t pinpoint exactly when it began. First he found himself becoming hungry quite a while before meals. Then he found that he still felt hungry after meals. He began eating more but the hunger never left. Now it was there constantly, a gnawing pain in his stomach that was increasingly hard to ignore.


    Everyone had heard stories of ghosts that were constantly hungry. Ilaran looked up every reference he could find on them. All the books agreed that only people who had starved to death would turn into that sort of ghost. That wasn''t much comfort when he remembered no one had ever been able to ask the ghosts what happened to them.


    For days he tried to ignore the hunger. If he pretended it didn''t exist, maybe it would go away.


    But it wasn''t going away. If anything it was getting worse. There was only one person who might be able to help him. The idea of asking Abihira for help was unpleasant, but he couldn''t think of any other option. After all, he couldn''t go to a doctor.


    Maybe it was just a temporary reaction to being brought back to life. Abihira had also been in the Land of the Dead. If she was experiencing the same thing then at least he would know what to blame. And if she wasn''t...


    He didn''t know what he''d do. But this was starting to frighten him.


    <hr>


    A royal visiting a foreign country would always involve a great deal of pomp, circumstance, and inconvenience for all concerned. Kiriyuki had managed to avoid some of it by leaving without warning. There were times when Mirio felt like doing the same. Then he wouldn''t have had to put up with a never-ending procession of officials reminding him of what to do when in Gengxin -- all of which he already knew; he had been there before, a fact which all of them seemed to have forgotten -- and warning him not to do anything to disgrace Seroyawa. They acted as if he was a child who didn''t know how to behave. Mirio forced himself to listen, to answer when he was expected to, and to agree with whatever they said.


    It was a relief when he finally got on the ship headed for Gengxin. The only thing dampening his spirits was the knowledge he was in for just as much pomp, circumstance. and inconvenience when he got there.


    Oh well. At least his uncle''s court would be inconvenient in a different way. That was really the best he could hope for.


    <hr>


    The Ninth Prince''s seizures came and went at unpredictable intervals. Sometimes they lasted a few seconds, sometimes they dragged on for heart-stopping minutes. By the king''s orders at least two people had to be with him at all times. Usually those people were Lian and the court physician. Today the court physician was attending to the Second Prince, so the Ninth Prince''s nursemaid replaced him.


    Bai Jiu divided her attention between watching the Ninth Prince as he played and keeping an eye on Lian. There was something about the doctor that she didn''t like, and it wasn''t just that he was a foreigner. His eyes were abnormally wide and pure silver. No one who looked like that could be trustworthy.


    When the Ninth Prince ran up to Lian, Bai Jiu had to suppress the urge to pull him away for his own safety. She watched in alarm as His Highness proudly held up a butterfly he''d just caught. Lian knelt down to look at it. He smiled and patted the Ninth Prince on the head. His Highness didn''t object to this overly-familiar behaviour from a servant. He let the butterfly go and watched as it flew away.


    "It''s time for your nap, Your Highness," Bai Jiu said.


    The Ninth Prince scowled and shook his head. "Don''t wanna nap." He looked pleadingly up at Lian. "Play hide-and-seek?"


    "No," Lian said in his oddly-accented Gengxinese. "You must rest before you go to welcome your cousin."


    Reluctantly His Highness traipsed into his room and curled up on the bed. Lian tucked him in and sat down beside him. He hummed under his breath until the Ninth Prince fell asleep. Then he sat in silence, apparently absorbed in studying the painting on the wall.


    Bai Jiu sat on the opposite side of the room and tried to make herself invisible while she worked on her embroidery. Once she lost her grip on the needle. It landed on the floor with a very faint clink. Lian''s head immediately snapped round. For a minute he stared right at Bai Jiu with those horrible eyes. Then he looked away. Bai Jiu snatched up the needle. Her hands were shaking too badly to sew any more.

 Chapter IV: Starving

    My heart''s an artifice, a decoy soul


    Who knew the emptiness could be so cold?


    I''ve lost the parts of me that make me whole


    -- Starset, Monster


    "I''m sorry, what?"


    Of all the things Abi had expected Ilaran to say to her, this wasn''t it. She stared at him blankly while she tried to make sense of his question.


    Ilaran repeated himself slowly and clearly, looking as if he thought she was an idiot for not understanding at once. "I said, have you felt anything unusual since the incident?"


    No one who knew what had happened could bear to acknowledge it. They called it just "the incident", as if by refusing to name it they could lessen how frightening it had been. And it had been frightening. Abi could see that now much clearer than she had when it was happening. Venturing into the Land of the Dead to bring someone back wasn''t normal, and there were all sorts of things that could have gone wrong.


    "I have nightmares sometimes," she said. ''Sometimes'' was an understatement. At least once every night her sleep was disrupted by a nightmare. She couldn''t always remember what they''d been about, but they made her lie awake for hours, too afraid to go back to sleep.


    "You haven''t felt... ill?"


    Abi blinked and looked more closely at Ilaran. Now that she noticed it, he really did look ill. He''d always been pale but now he was practically colourless. In fact she had an odd feeling that he''d been transparent when she first looked at him.


    "No, I haven''t," she said. "What''s wrong with you? You look awful."


    Ilaran grimaced. "I don''t know what''s wrong with me yet."


    Something in his tone rang false. Abi thought that at the time and she continued to think it after he left. No matter what he said, she couldn''t shake off the feeling he did know what was wrong.


    Hopefully it''s nothing serious, she thought.


    Not only had she given up on necromancy, she had never been very good at it in the first place. If it turned out whatever was wrong with Ilaran was something serious, Abi wouldn''t have a clue how to fix it.


    That thought gave her yet another nightmare when she tried to sleep.


    <hr>


    Eventually the novelty wore off everything, even having his own money. Ir¨ªm¨¦ now had plenty of clothes, plenty of books, and an assortment of imitation flowers he''d bought on impulse one day. He would have no shortage of things to put in his room when he went to Tananerl. Indeed, there was a chance he would have a lot of trouble finding space for everything. So he stopped buying new things before he bankrupted himself. It was bad enough that he still had to stay in the same hotel as his mother. He didn''t want to be forced to beg her for money because he''d squandered all of his own.


    Without shopping to distract him, he found his thoughts going back to being a dragon. Now that he was no longer trapped in an unfamiliar form and being gawked at by rude strangers, he no longer felt quite such antipathy for the idea of turning into a dragon again. In fact he was starting to feel curious about trying it again. Thanks to Shizuki he knew how to change back, so he could avoid a repeat of the fiasco at the palace. So why shouldn''t he try again? It was a waste of perfectly good magical powers if he never used them.


    Just over a week after the Incident Ir¨ªm¨¦ left the hotel and got on a train. He travelled to a small town on the outskirts of the city. From there he walked along the riverbank until he came to the most secluded place he could find. It was a small clearing in the forest that grew on either side of the river. Ir¨ªm¨¦ took the precaution of leaving the path through the forest and walking closer to the river itself. Here there was less chance of being discovered by someone out for a walk.


    He closed his eyes and thought of being a dragon. When he opened them again he was disappointed. Nothing had happened at all.


    Again and again he tried. Every attempt was a failure. Annoyance and frustration began to build in his chest.


    Why is it that I can become a dragon when I don''t want to but can''t when I do? he thought, exasperated.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ was on the point of giving up entirely. But something within him rebelled at the idea of going home. He''d come all this way, deliberately looking for a place where he wouldn''t run into a single person, without telling Abi or anyone else what he was planning. He might never have a better chance of learning how to control his magic. Giving up would make the whole thing a colossal waste of time.


    He made one final attempt.


    When books talked about people turning into animals they always made it sound like a very painful experience. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had always known that was mostly rubbish. If it was so painful there wouldn''t be so many shapeshifters around who changed forms when they felt like it, after all. He had been far too upset during the Incident to pay any attention to what he felt. But even so he had expected there would be some physical sensation accompanying a transformation. Discomfort, perhaps, or maybe mild pain.


    He felt nothing at all when he tried again. That was why it was such a shock when he opened his eyes and found his head was now level with branches that had been far overhead a minute ago.


    Someone yelled from somewhere to his right. Ir¨ªm¨¦''s head swivelled round. He peered in alarm towards where the shout had come from. If he had to put up with yet more sightseers--


    A small figure darted out of the undergrowth. It moved far too fast for Ir¨ªm¨¦''s eyes to follow, especially when he was still getting used to his new vision. Something climbed up his side. He started violently. Then a weight settled around his neck like a scarf. At once Ir¨ªm¨¦ realised what it was. His heartbeat returned to normal as he realised he wasn''t being attacked.


    He turned his head far enough to be able to see the snake curled around his neck. The snake stared up at him unrepentantly.


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    "Shizuki, just what do you think you''re doing?"


    <hr>


    Over the years Siarvin had gotten very good at finding out things other people wanted to keep hidden. It had been a necessary skill to survive in Haliran''s house. Even before then it had been essential to stay alive in Tananerl. So when he found he was the only person currently in this part of Gihimayel Palace, he took the opportunity to do some investigating.


    Ilaran had written something down last night. Then he''d thrown it away. It might still be in the bin. If so, it could give some clues to why he was behaving so strangely. Now that Siarvin thought about it, last night wasn''t the first time Ilaran had complained of being hungry. Something odd was going on here. And if living with Haliran had taught him anything it was that he should always take note of anything odd.


    The palace was eerily quiet. Koyuki was staying in the hotel and Shizuki had his own room beside the one Ilaran and Siarvin shared. He knocked on Shizuki''s door. No answer. Either his adopted son was still asleep or he''d found something to amuse himself outside. Siarvin wasn''t overly worried about him. He had an entire lifetime of experience in defending himself. Ilaran was another matter.


    It was sad but true that his nephew might as well have been a complete stranger. The last time they''d met Ilaran had been Shizuki''s age, still a prince of Ahal¨¢l, and still living with his mother. Their correspondence over the years since then had been infrequent and neither had ever been able to speak freely. They''d both known that Haliran read every word in their letters. No genuine friendship could be formed under the circumstances.


    Siarvin didn''t distrust Ilaran. Not exactly. He was just slightly wary of him. And that wariness was increasing thanks to Ilaran''s odd behaviour.


    The piece of paper was still in the bin. Siarvin fished it out and read it several times. It was written in Ilaran''s native language. The pen had pressed down so heavily on the paper that it had almost torn it in at least two places. As for what it said...


    First day. ??? Second day. Didn''t notice. Third day. Think I noticed for the first time. Fourth day. Hungry more than usual. Fifth day. Hungry all the time. Sixth day. Same but worse. Seventh day. Starving.


    The word "starving" was written in italics. Siarvin stared at it for a long time. He did some calculations. Assuming last night was the seventh day, then the first day was the day of... Well. It was the Incident.


    Ilaran died, was brought back, and very quickly discovered he was hungry all the time. That led to a very unpleasant conclusion.


    There was a reason necromancy was outlawed. No one knew exactly what it was. Siarvin could now make an educated guess.


    What exactly had Abihira done? And more importantly, how could it be reversed?


    <hr>


    "Did you follow me all the way here?"


    Shizuki nodded. Ir¨ªm¨¦ didn''t know whether to be more alarmed or annoyed. He settled for giving Shizuki a very disapproving frown. Well, the most disapproving frown a dragon could manage, at any rate. It was difficult for a dragon to have any sort of expression.


    "You shouldn''t follow people like that."


    "But I want to fly!" Shizuki said. "Come on, come on, fly!"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ suppressed a groan. "I don''t know how to fly."


    Nor was he in any great hurry to learn. In the first place people would notice if a dragon flew overhead. And in the second he wasn''t fond of heights. He was especially not fond of the idea of being up in the air, far too far above the ground for comfort, with nothing but his wings stopping him from falling. Apart from everything else he could just imagine what Siarvin would say if Shizuki was injured in an ill-advised flying attempt.


    Shizuki pouted. How he managed that when he was still a snake was a mystery. "Then learn how to fly!"


    "No," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said firmly.


    He turned back into an immortal. Shizuki yelped as he found himself suddenly losing his grip. He fell off Ir¨ªm¨¦''s neck and almost landed on the ground. Ir¨ªm¨¦ caught him just in time. There was a confused and rather hair-raising moment as Shizuki wrapped himself around Ir¨ªm¨¦''s chest and tightened his coils almost painfully.


    "Let go!" Ir¨ªm¨¦ wheezed.


    Shizuki let go. He slithered down to the ground and turned back into a boy. At once he folded his arms and glared at Ir¨ªm¨¦. "I want to fly!"


    How did you deal with a child who was absolutely set on getting their way, even though their way was a terrible idea? Ir¨ªm¨¦ didn''t know. He''d never had many interactions with children, not even when he was a child himself. He racked his brain for memories of seeing adults deal with situations like this. In desperation he fell back on the one sure way to make a child do something.


    "I can''t take you flying today. Do you want ice cream instead?"


    Shizuki considered this for a minute. At last he nodded. "But you have to take me flying some day! Promise!"


    "I promise," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said reluctantly. After all, ''some day'' was vague enough to mean anything. Two hundred years in the future would still count as ''some day''.


    <hr>


    Ilaran hadn''t really expected to get any help from Abihira. All he''d learnt was that she apparently did not suffer from constant hunger. Which meant that his symptoms were probably the result of dying and being brought back rather than simply being in the Land of the Dead. How was he to cure that? Die again and demand Death undo whatever had happened to him?


    By now he was so used to feeling hungry that he could almost ignore it. Funny, how quickly a person could get used to something. He ignored it all the way back to Gihimayel Palace. He ignored it until he couldn''t any more.


    In theory the guards were on duty. In practice they were all in the guard-house, squealing excitedly about something. One of them made a half-hearted attempt at standing guard some of the time. Ilaran got back just as that one guard left the gate and went into the guard-house. The minute Ilaran saw the guard he was overwhelmed by an obsessive need to kill, eat, so hungry need food NEED FOOD--


    He stumbled and fell to his knees as he fought back the urge to attack. The guard disappeared into the small building, blissfully unaware of how much danger he was in. Ilaran got up and staggered towards the palace. An increasingly loud voice at the back of his head screamed at him to kill the guards. He staggered through the front door and slammed it behind him. His hands were suddenly stiff and refused to obey him, but he tried to lock the door anyway.


    Under the circumstances he wasn''t thinking clearly. He''d forgotten there were probably other people in the house.


    A door opened behind him.


    "Ilaran?"


    He spun round. Through the mist that had descended on his vision he saw how Siarvin recoiled from him in horror. The voice returned again. When Ilaran fought to regain control of his body he found he''d moved towards Siarvin without realising it.


    "Stay away from me!" Ilaran shouted. Talking had become difficult now. His tongue refused to form the words. "Get out!"


    He half-stumbled, half-fell into his bedroom. He shoved the bolt across and tried to push a table in front of the door. In the middle of doing that the voice completely took over. He couldn''t fight it off any more. There was a living person on the other side of the door and he.


    Was.


    So.


    Hungry.


    <hr>


    For a minute Siarvin was frozen in shock. His mind replayed Ilaran -- no, something that wore Ilaran''s face -- preparing to lunge at him. The look in his eyes had resembled nothing so much as a wild and starving animal''s. The memory of that chilled Siarvin to the bone.


    A terrible crash resounded from Ilaran''s room. It sounded as if something had fallen against the door with great force. Disregarding common sense Siarvin reached for the doorknob. Then the crash came again. It was repeated several times. The door shook with the force of it. With a shudder Siarvin realised Ilaran was throwing himself at the door.


    Finally he realised how serious the situation was. He remembered the note Ilaran had thrown away. He thought of the look in his eyes. They added up to a horrible and deadly picture.


    Siarvin unlocked the front door. He paused to pull the table in the hall over to stand partly in front of the door. That would temporarily delay any pursuit. Then he locked the door behind him and ran as fast as he could.


    Only one person might possibly be able to help. He had to find Abihira.

 Chapter V: Monster

    But inside the beast still grows


    Waiting, chewing through the ropes


    -- Starset, Carnivore


    The town of Kulbiram had very few shops. It was really not much of a town any more and had become a suburb of the capital city instead. Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Shizuki had to hunt for quite a while before they found a caf¨¦ that sold ice cream.


    It''s just as well I brought some money with me, Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought as he ordered a bowl of ice cream for Shizuki and a cup of gilnosnan[1] for himself.


    Luckily Shizuki was in his fully-immortal appearance and not his normal in-between form. The people in the caf¨¦ didn''t give him a second glance. They would been far more curious if he''d walked in covered with scales and with his eyes a brilliant shade of yellow-green. As it was the most attention anyone paid him was when the waitress brought their order to the table.


    "There you are, sir," she said, handing Ir¨ªm¨¦ his gilnosnan, "and here''s the ice cream for your--" She paused, looked from the obviously half-Seroyawan Shizuki to the equally obviously fully-Saoridhin Ir¨ªm¨¦, and hazarded a guess, "--your nephew?"


    "Cousin," Shizuki corrected her through a mouthful of ice cream. When she was gone he gave Ir¨ªm¨¦ a slightly sheepish look. "Do you mind if I adopt you as my cousin? I''ve never had one before. Ilaran doesn''t count. He''s too old. And my siblings yell at me and threaten to kick me out."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ almost choked on his drink. He gave Shizuki a look of wide-eyed horror. The younger boy continued eating his ice cream without giving the slightest hint he knew he''d said something shocking. It was just as well that there was no one sitting near them and the other people in the caf¨¦ made enough noise to drown out their conversation.


    "Do... Do your siblings often threaten to kick you out?" he asked. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had never gotten along very well with his own siblings, so he was no stranger to yelling at them, but threats struck him as a step too far.


    Shizuki nodded. "When they remember I exist. They want to pretend their family''s normal and I prove it''s not." He saw the look on Ir¨ªm¨¦''s face and added, "Dad keeps them away from me. They didn''t listen much so I learnt to hide. But it''s all right. Now I never have to see them again."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ was seized by a sudden urge to track down Haliran''s other children -- possibly in his dragon form -- and give them a piece of his mind. "Aren''t they also Siarvin''s children?"


    Belatedly he realised that if they were, Haliran''s crimes meant they had probably been born under... miserable circumstances.


    "Five of them are, I think," Shizuki said. "The others are like me. I''m just the only one who''s half-Seroyawan."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ remembered the trial. He remembered Siarvin revealing that he had been drugged and... That he had been drugged. He and Haliran had five children. Ir¨ªm¨¦ felt sick as the full implications sank in. For the sake of his sanity he tried not to dwell on that. It was time for a change of subject.


    "What do you want to do when you grow up?" he asked instead.


    Shizuki brightened up at once. "I want to be a detective! Like the ones in the books!"


    Finally a subject that wouldn''t delve into disturbing territory and that Ir¨ªm¨¦ knew enough about to have a proper conversation on. "What''s your favourite book?"


    "The Case of the Singing Falcon! I love when the crooks'' heads explode!"


    ...What.


    <hr>


    Ever since the nightmares started Abi had been able to sleep less and less. The only way she could stay somewhat alert was by taking increasingly frequent naps during the day. Even this was becoming difficult. If she didn''t sleep she wouldn''t feel any better, but if she fell too deeply asleep she''d have nightmares during the day as well.


    After Ilaran left she went back to her room and tried to doze on top of the bed. She opened her window fully in the hope the cold breeze would keep her relatively awake. It didn''t work. Within a few minutes she fell fast asleep.


    The sun shone down brightly. It glittered on the water''s surface and cast reflections on the underside of the bridge. Abi sat on the wall at the lake''s edge and idly skipped stones across the water. Something moved just beneath the surface. A flicker of unease warned her to beware. But this was the artificial lake outside her home in Seroyawa. Nothing dangerous could ever come here. It wouldn''t make it past the wards.


    She got up anyway and turned round. She wasn''t overly surprised to see her servants setting out teacups on the table at the terrace. A little voice at the back of her mind told her that she should be, that this wasn''t real, that there was something wrong about this whole situation. She ignored it. She ignored it when Kiriyuki arrived and she ignored it when the servants poured the tea.


    The teapot was shaped like a Saoridhin one and the teacups were made of crystal, something never heard of in Seroyawa. The tea itself was bright red. No steam rose from its surface. It smelled funny. For the first time Abi felt a flicker of foreboding that she couldn''t ignore.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    She watched as Kiriyuki drank it without complaint. Reluctantly she reached for her own teacup. The tea was ice cold and had a bitter, metallic taste. It choked her when she tried to swallow. Kiriyuki didn''t bat an eyelid when Abi coughed and spluttered. If this was real she would have thumped her on the back then told her off for being such an idiot. An inkling of the truth began to dawn on Abi. It disappeared before she could fully grasp it.


    Kiriyuki helped herself to a biscuit. Abi looked down at the saucer. The biscuits were rotten and crawling with maggots. She looked up again. There was unmistakeably something under the water. The lake''s surface turned first grey and then black. It bubbled like water in a kettle.


    Abi looked at Kiriyuki. With a jolt she saw she was staring at her through eyes that were completely devoid of life.


    Blood poured from Kiriyuki''s mouth and nose. It streamed out of her eyes like a parody of tears. She lunged at Abi with her mouth wide open.


    "Your Highness! Your Highness!"


    Abi awoke with a scream. She stared up at her bedroom ceiling as her heartbeat returned to normal.


    "Your Highness, wake up!"


    With a groan she got up and opened the door. The servant outside took one look at her and recoiled. Apparently she looked as awful as she felt.


    "What is it?" Abi snapped. After yet another nightmare she didn''t feel like talking to anyone.


    The servant gave her a bug-eyed stare then dropped her gaze to the floor. "There''s a strange man outside demanding to see you, your Highness. He says you know him and it''s an emergency. He has a foreign name I can''t pronounce."


    Abi blinked. As she followed the servant down to the front door she wracked her brain for any foreigners she knew who''d be likely to come to her in an emergency. She couldn''t think of any. All her Seroyawan friends were still back home in Seroyawa, and she knew virtually no one in Eldrin--


    Then she saw who it was. Her thoughts screeched to a halt. Never in their brief acquaintance had she seen him look so terrified. His hair was a mess, his shoes were covered with mud, and he looked like he''d just seen an entire haunted house''s worth of ghosts.


    "What''s wrong?" she asked.


    Siarvin grabbed her arm and practically dragged her out of the palace before answering. Abi had to almost run to keep up as he led her towards Gihimayel Palace.


    "It''s Ilaran," Siarvin said shortly as they hurried along. "Something''s wrong with him. He almost attacked me a few minutes ago."


    The memory of Ilaran''s visit came back to her. He''d looked terrible, yes, but he hadn''t been violent. And if he ever decided to attack someone she couldn''t see him lashing out at Siarvin.


    Abi tried to make sense of this. "What do you mean? Did you have an argument?"


    Siarvin shook his head. "He came in, saw me, and tried to attack me. Then he locked himself in his room. He said something but I couldn''t understand him."


    By now they''d reached Gihimayel Palace. The guards gave them curious looks but let them pass without question.


    "Why do you think I can help?" Abi asked.


    "Because this only started when you brought him back." Siarvin stopped and fished a piece of paper out of his pocket. "Read this."


    Abi glanced at it. It was in a language she didn''t speak and an alphabet that was similar to the Saoridhin one but with slight differences. "I can''t. What is it?"


    Siarvin groaned. Briefly he summarised its contents. Abi listened in increasing horror.


    "He came to see me a while ago," she said. "He asked if I felt ill after... I never thought he meant something like this!"


    Siarvin didn''t reply. He stayed grimly silent as they approached Ilaran''s front door. A series of loud crashes were audible inside the house. Mingled in with them were monstrous growls and roars.


    "I don''t think it''s safe to go in," Siarvin said at last after they listened in appalled silence for several minutes.


    What do I do? Abi thought, panicking. I don''t know how to fix this!


    You didn''t know how to do necromancy either, a little voice whispered in her head. You didn''t know how to bring Ilaran back. That didn''t stop you.


    Abi took a deep breath and tried to think clearly. For the first time she forced herself to think about her trip through Ilaran''s memories. She''d done her best to erase them from her mind. But there was just a chance... All immortals were capable of telepathy to some degree. Its effectiveness increased with how closely related they were to the person they were trying to communicate with. Before the Incident Abi and Ilaran would only have been capable of the shortest and most basic telepathic conversation, and then only if they''d been right next to each other. But now they''d been in each other''s minds. That might just have formed a stronger telepathic connection between them.


    "I''m going to try to talk to him," she said.


    She reached out with her telepathy. Through the front door, into the empty hallway, through the bedroom door... Her consciousness brushed against something that made her recoil in horror. It wasn''t Ilaran. It wasn''t even an immortal. It was a writhing mass of dark magic, a thing that was alive yet not alive, something so profoundly wrong that it should not exist. Being near her left her with the feeling that she''d just touched something dirty and needed to scrub off all traces of its existence.


    Abi came back to herself with a shudder. "There''s something in there."


    "I know there is," Siarvin said grimly. "It''s possessing Ilaran and brought here by your necromancy."


    Whatever that thing was it did not feel anything like necromancy. It didn''t even feel like Death''s presence. It was something else entirely. Abi didn''t feel up to arguing the point right now, though. She had much more important things to worry about. Like finding out if Ilaran was still there at all.


    She tried again. This time she ignored the thing in the house. She pushed right past it. Dimly she felt its tendrils trying to grab hold of her. It fell back as soon as it touched her. And beyond it she sensed...


    At first it was just a flicker, as if she''d brushed against the mind of someone who was asleep. Then it became much stronger and clearer. After being in Ilaran''s mind she knew what his magic felt like. She heaved a sigh of relief at the discovery he was still alive and apparently unharmed.


    Abihira? Is that you?


    Yes! she shouted back. Where are you?


    There was a pause. Then Ilaran said, I don''t know. I can''t see anything. What''s happening out there?


    Abi gave him a very quick summary of events. She could feel him growing more and more outraged with each word. When she finished he was silent for a long time.


    At last he spoke again. I hope you know this is all your fault.


    She winced. I know, but--


    If you hadn''t meddled with necromancy this never would have happened.


    I know--


    And you had damn well better find some way to fix it.


    I will, she promised. I don''t know how, but I will. Just give me time.


    Ilaran fell silent again. She was just about to leave when he finally replied. Time is a luxury we don''t have.

 Chapter VI: The Good Doctor

    "Doctors?" said Ron, looking startled. "Those Muggle nutters that cut people up?" -- J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix


    By order of the king almost the entire royal family was assembled in the throne room before Mirio''s carriage had even entered the palace gates. There were only two people missing. The Second Prince, Zi Guang, and the Ninth Prince, Zi Yao. Both of them were too ill to be expected to wait for hours in the cold throne room. The Ninth Prince would be summoned when his cousin arrived and not before. The Second Prince would not be summoned at all.


    Last night Lian had examined the Second Prince. He reported his conclusions to the king afterwards.


    "I see no cause for immediate concern," he''d said. "The Second Prince has a slight fever, but his temperature is already lower than it was when the Imperial Physician checked this morning."


    All the same, the king ordered the Second Prince not to leave his room until his fever was completely gone. That still left the other six surviving princes, the ten princesses, the queen, the three consorts, the nine royal concubines[1], and of course the king himself. Add to that the king''s siblings, the ministers, the court officials, and the servants, and the Dragon Palace''s throne room and courtyard were packed to capacity.


    On the other side of the palace Bai Jiu struggled to get the Ninth Prince ready. It was a very difficult task when he had spent the last hour playing in the mud and wanted nothing more than to keep doing that.


    "Don''t want a bath! Don''t wanna don''t wanna don''t wanna!"


    For all that his health was so delicate there was certainly nothing wrong with his lungs.


    Wu She, the eunuch who was Zi Yao''s main attendant, carried the screeching prince over to the bathtub with the resigned expression of someone facing a terrible ordeal. He and Bai Jiu tried to take off His Highness''s outer clothing. The Ninth Prince screamed like he was being murdered. Eventually Wu She had to hold his arms behind his back while Bai Jiu undid the fastenings of his tunic. Once he was in his underwear the two of them lifted him into the bath in spite of his protestations.


    Bai Jiu turned away for a minute to look for the soap. A thump, a pained groan, and a splash made her head snap round. The Ninth Prince had just hit Wu She with the handle of a dagger -- where did he even get a weapon? What idiot had he stolen it from? -- and scrambled out of the bath. He made a wild dash for the door, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind him. The cleaners would be absolutely delighted to see that.


    The door opened just as His Highness reached for the handle. The surprise made the Ninth Prince slip and fall to the floor. He immediately began to sob as if he was badly injured.


    If he had been an ordinary boy Bai Jiu would have boxed his ears like she did when her brothers were being idiots. Unfortunately he was a prince, and so she had no choice but to pretend she wasn''t annoyed with his behaviour and act as if he had some real reason to cry.


    She hurried over, pretending not to see Lian standing in the doorway with the most bemused expression she''d ever seen him wear. Behind her Wu She grumbled under his breath about the bruise on his head.


    "Are you hurt, your Highness?" she asked even though she knew he wasn''t. This loud, constant crying wasn''t the way he behaved when he was truly in pain. This was sheer histrionics.


    The Ninth Prince continued to sob like he''d just heard his entire family were dead. Lian recovered from his surprise and knelt down next to him.


    "A-Yao[2]," he said. Bai Jiu''s mouth fell open at this presumptuously familiar way of addressing the prince. "You want to see your cousin, don''t you? You told me you want to show him your drawings."


    His Highness briefly stopped fake-crying while he considered this.


    "You have to take a bath before you can see him."


    Like all two hundred year olds[3] the Ninth Prince viewed baths as an evil to be avoided at all costs. He wasn''t about to give in without a fight.


    "Don''t wanna!" he wailed piteously.


    Lian donned his calmest, most gentle smile. That particular smile was notorious all through the palace for being his default expression in unpleasant situations. One of the princes attempted a coup? An argument broke out between the imperial physicians? Someone dropped dead in the middle of a banquet? No matter what sort of event he was witnessing, Lian always wore the same smile. It drove most of the palace out of their minds. You could understand a man who scowled and grumbled, but what were you to make of a man who just smiled when any sane person would be furious?


    He scooped up the struggling boy, walked over to the bath, and put the Ninth Prince down in it before Bai Jiu and Wu She realised what was happening. Both of their mouths dropped open. They exchanged matching expressions of dumbfounded disbelief. No one could carry a prince around so casually! It was a shocking breach of decorum!


    His Highness made another attempt to escape. He caught Lian''s eye just as he tried to scramble out of the bathtub and promptly thought better of it.


    "Hurry up and wash him," the doctor told the servants. "His Majesty will summon him soon."


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Bai Jiu bristled. No one except her direct superiors had the right to order her around like that. Lian''s status in the royal household was complicated but he was certainly no more than a servant himself. She nearly gave into the temptation to make a rude gesture at him when his back was turned. As she raised her hand he whirled round so abruptly that she felt sure he knew what she meant to do.


    Reluctantly she bowed and went over to the bathtub. Wu She followed silently. He carefully avoided looking in Lian''s direction. As they knelt down beside the tub they exchanged looks. Both of them were thinking the exact same thing.


    Who does he think he is?


    Within twenty minutes the Ninth Prince was clean, dry, and having his official court robes put on against his will. Lian still hadn''t left. He lurked in the background like a bird of prey about to swoop down on an unsuspecting mouse. It was starting to wear on Bai Jiu''s nerves. What was he here for anyway? He had checked on the Ninth Prince this morning and pronounced there was no danger of him having another seizure.


    At last His Highness was ready. In his dark red cross-collar robe -- a miniature replica of the clothes worn by his older brothers who''d already come of age -- he looked like a proper prince and not the muddy brat who''d given his servants such a headache earlier. Judging by his disgruntled expression and the way he pulled at the robe''s collars when he thought no one was looking, he wasn''t nearly as happy with how well he looked as the adults were.


    "Come on now," Lian said, holding out his hand. With a start Bai Jiu realised he intended to bring the prince to the throne room himself. That job should go to His Highness''s servants! "Your father will want to see you now."


    The Ninth Prince happily took Lian''s hand and toddled after him. Once again Bai Jiu and Wu She exchanged dumbfounded looks.


    "It must be allowed. He''d never dare do anything the king forbade," Wu She whispered.


    Bai Jiu wasn''t nearly as sure about that. Ever since he came here Lian had demonstrated a willingness to ignore rules and cross boundaries. And it was worrying to see how much he''d ingratiated himself with the Ninth Prince.


    <hr>


    It had been over fifty years since Mirio last visited the Dragon Palace. Very few of the buildings had changed. There were a handful of new faces among the ministers and a few alterations in his uncle''s family. He kept up a running mental commentary on all the differences he spotted.


    As he climbed out of the carriage he glanced around at the bowing politicians. Minister Xiao is fatter than ever. Minister Peng still looks like a weasel. Is that Minister Zhu? Whatever happened to his hair?


    On the way up the stairs into the throne room he thought, Something must have happened here. Those are scorch marks on the stone.


    When he got into the throne room he took note of his cousins. Zi Yi and Zi Xian are ignoring each other. Zi Su is smiling; he must be up to something. Zi Qing has been drinking. Zi Yang looks so miserable she must have been forced to attend at knife-point. Zi Guang isn''t here at all. Zi Zhen looks like he''s half-asleep. Zi Ming is bored out of his mind. Zi Yao is...


    His thoughts screeched to a halt when he saw the person standing behind his youngest cousin. The royal court of Gengxin contained many strange and colourful characters, but this was the first time he''d ever seen a Saoridhin dressed in Gengxinese clothes attending an official event.


    The stranger stared right at Mirio. His eyes were unusually large even for a Saoridhin and the colour of silver. Not like Abi''s eyes, which were a shade of silver that was closer to pale bluish-grey, but pure silver like the metal. The effect was extremely eerie and almost frightening.


    Feeling absurdly rattled, Mirio looked away from the stranger as he greeted his uncle and cousins. Then there was the exchange of gifts, the polite enquiries after the health of the absent Second Prince, the offering of condolences on the death of the Crown Prince, and finally the announcement of an official banquet which would begin in an hour. Mirio was already mentally calculating if it would be possible to take a bath as well as change his clothes in that hour.


    Through the entire lengthy ceremony the foreigner never left Zi Yao''s side. When at last Zi Yao grew fidgety and was dismissed, the foreigner accompanied him out of the throne room. Mirio noticed several of his cousins watching their departure with barely-veiled dislike. He couldn''t think of any reason they would dislike Zi Yao so much -- it wasn''t as if such a young boy could have done anything to earn their enmity -- so he could only assume they disliked the foreigner.


    Strange. Very strange.


    <hr>


    After finishing his ice cream Shizuki wanted to find a bookstore that would have the latest novel in his favourite series.


    "Won''t your father be worried about you being away for so long?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked.


    Shizuki shook his head. "He knows I can hide if I have to. And I can bite anyone who won''t leave me alone."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought of the first assassin. He''d died within half an hour of being bitten by Shizuki and Koyuki. "...Oh."


    He checked his watch. There was enough time to do some shopping before the next train was due. So the two of them set off for the town''s only bookstore.


    Ten minutes later they got on the train with their arms full of books. Not only had Shizuki got the book he wanted, he''d found a dozen more that he hadn''t read yet. And since he hadn''t any money of his own Ir¨ªm¨¦ had agreed to buy them for him. The only reason they didn''t have even more books was that Ir¨ªm¨¦ hadn''t brought much money with him.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ was beginning to suspect that Shizuki was taking advantage of an opportunity to get as many books as possible at someone else''s expense. At least the novels kept Shizuki occupied for the train journey. Ir¨ªm¨¦ imagined what sort of trouble a bored shapeshifter could cause on a train and was suddenly very glad he''d been talked into buying so many books.


    The journey from the train station to Gihimayel Palace was a very uncomfortable one. Fourteen books were heavy. By the time they reached the palace Ir¨ªm¨¦ had stopped being glad about them and was instead thinking some very uncomplimentary things about Shizuki -- and the authors'' decisions not to write shorter books.


    To his surprise they found Siarvin and Abi standing outside the palace. Abi''s eyes were closed. She didn''t look round as they approached. Siarvin looked very grim.


    "What''s happening?" Shizuki asked.


    "Necromancy," Siarvin said.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ glared at Abi. "I thought you''d given that up!"


    "I have," Abi said without opening her eyes. "There''ve been... complications. Don''t distract me."


    What does she mean by complications? Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought, alarmed. That was not a word anyone ever wanted to hear in connection with dark magic.


    A terrible screech came from inside the palace, followed by a tremendous crash. Abi''s eyes flew open. She swore and cast some sort of spell at the front door. Another crash came from behind it. This time the door shook as if something had struck it with great force.


    "What''s in there?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked nervously. "Abi? Abi, what''s making that noise?"


    Abi didn''t answer. She''d gone very pale. With an unpleasant shock Ir¨ªm¨¦ realised she was holding a magical barrier in place against the door. The sort of barrier that was generally used to keep people out of a place...


    Or to keep something in.

 Chapter VII: Rampant

    There''s a monster I caged deep behind my eyes


    I can never escape, I''ve been running for miles


    When the morning comes I know it will still be there


    -- Citizen Soldier, Never Ending Nightmare


    Compared to dying it was easy to think this wasn''t all that bad. All right, so it was boring. Now that Abihira had withdrawn there was no one to talk to. Even so Ilaran found himself having to fight the temptation to become complacent with this situation. Wherever he was it felt like the time just before going to sleep, when he was still partly-awake but not alert enough to take an interest in what was happening. He couldn''t see anything around him. In fact he wasn''t sure if there was anything around him. It was very strange, yet he had to make a real effort to be upset about it.


    At least the hunger was gone. In fact he didn''t feel anything at all. Not even pain, though from Abihira''s account that thing possessing him was doing its best to break every bone in his body.


    The urge to sleep grew stronger and stronger. Ilaran forced it back. He had an unpleasant suspicion that if he did go to sleep he would never wake up, and he refused to let that happen. He''d already died once. He didn''t fancy doing it again and having to explain to Death how he ended up back in her realm so soon. Anyway, he still had things to do with his life. In the first place the parasite that was possessing him was going to pay dearly for it as soon as he regained control of his body. And in the second he was going to box Abihira''s ears for causing this once he dealt with the parasite.


    From time to time he saw flashes of what was happening in the real world. They were very confusing and left him with more questions than answers. Apparently the parasite had very different eyesight to him. He couldn''t imagine why else he saw bright red figures amidst a blurry grey background.


    If that thing has permanently damaged my sight I''ll tear out its eyeballs with a screwdriver, he swore.


    A distant screech reached his ears. It sounded like a pig being killed.


    What in the Nine Heavens is happening out there?


    Ilaran tried to telepathically reach out to Abihira. He found someone''s mind, but it was so full of blind panic that he couldn''t tell if it was hers or not.


    Without any warning he felt as if he was being shoved forwards. Suddenly he could see again. He took one look and wished he couldn''t see after all.


    <hr>


    There were no reliable records on what happened when necromancy went wrong. Once again Abi found herself having to make things up on the spot and hope for the best. She''d done it when reanimating the mice, she''d done it when raising the corpse, and she''d done it when bringing Ilaran back. Surely she could do it again without much trouble.


    The only problem was that this time there was a high chance of being killed if she didn''t get it right the first time.


    Her barrier wouldn''t hold for much longer. Every crash against the door sent a painful reverberation through her whole body. Something wet was trickling from her mouth and nose. She brushed it away with the back of her hand and found it was blood.


    "Get everyone out of the palace," she told Siarvin. To her own surprise her voice was almost completely steady. "And lock the gates."


    She held the barrier in place while Siarvin and Ir¨ªm¨¦ half-shooed, half-dragged Shizuki away. She channelled more magic to hold it in place when she heard the alarm go off in the main palace. Most of the other guests had already gone home after the festival so there were very few people who had to leave. She calculated how long it would take them to get out.


    When I hear the gates close I can let the barrier fall, she thought. That was quickly followed by, I hope the guards don''t interfere.


    This would be the absolute worst time for them to be seized by a sudden attack of competence. She would have enough to do just trying to keep herself safe without worrying about other people.


    Crash. Crash. Crash. The front door began to creak ominously beneath the continuous attacks in spite of the magic supporting it. When it broke Abi''s barrier would be all that stood between her and that thing. She looked around for ways to escape. In the background she heard the gates close.


    There were flights of stairs built into the wall, leading up to the second storey and the attics. Owing to the unique architectural design of Gihimayel Palace it was less of a building and more of a block of flats with little chance of the residents encountering each other unexpectedly. None of the upstairs rooms were occupied at the moment; they were reserved for diplomats and royals from Dolovera. If she got into one of them before the door broke she could hide and keep an eye on the-- Her mind skidded to a halt as she wasted time trying to decide how to refer to the thing. It wasn''t Ilaran and it wasn''t a walking corpse. It was more like a parasite.


    All right then. She could hide and keep an eye on the parasite while she figured out what to do.


    You''ll be trapped if it follows you up there, a little voice warned her.


    That thought gave her pause. But there was really nowhere else for her to go -- unless she wanted to run all the way around the palace to reach the main hall, and who knew if the parasite could outrun her?


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    If I have to I can open a window and jump onto one of the other stairs, she thought.


    It wasn''t a very comforting idea when there was the possibility she would miss and fall all the way to the ground.


    The door splintered. It didn''t completely break but it was now cracked in two.


    Abi summoned up more of her magic. Dimly she realised she should have run out of it by now, but she had no time to worry about that now. The parasite threw itself against the broken part. At the same time Abi threw a spell directly at it. She''d meant it to be a disorientating spell that would leave the parasite confused for a few minutes. To her own amazement it struck the parasite with such force that it went flying back into the house.


    Her triumph was mitigated by the fact it was still possessing Ilaran. I hope that didn''t hurt him too much.


    And there was the worst part about this sorry mess. She couldn''t try to kill the parasite for fear of harming Ilaran. The best she could hope for was to try to exorcise it and destroy it as soon as it let go of him.


    While the parasite was still somewhere inside Ilaran''s house Abi took advantage of the opportunity to flee. She ran up the nearest flight of stairs, wincing at how loud her footsteps were on the metal. When she reached the door there was a moment of blind panic when she found it was locked. She wasted precious seconds struggling with the doorknob before she gave up and hit the door with an opening spell. Not only did the door open, it almost fell off its hinges. Abi blinked. After all the magic she''d used recently she shouldn''t be able to cast such powerful spells. Then she dismissed it and ran into the house.


    All of the furniture was moved to the edges of the rooms and covered with dust sheets. To get to the window closest to the next staircase she had to climb on top of a table. When she looked out she could see the garden below, the path leading round to the main gates, and the tall hedge surrounding the palace. She couldn''t see a single sign of life, not even so much as a bird perched on a tree branch.


    Maybe I knocked it out, she thought.


    What effect would unconsciousness have on the parasite? Would it loosen its hold on Ilaran or would Ilaran be the only one harmed?


    Abi''s thoughts came to an abrupt halt at the sound of someone walking up the stairs she''d just come up. Clunk. Pause. Clunk. A clang that suggested they had tripped and fallen onto the next step. She craned her neck to see the stairs. Her vain hope that it was Ir¨ªm¨¦ or Siarvin died the minute the person came into view. Neither of them was so tall or had dark brown hair. Even without seeing their face she knew it was the parasite puppeteering Ilaran''s body.


    She would have to make a jump for it after all.


    Luckily the window was easier to open than the door. She pulled back the latch and shoved it open. Then she climbed out onto the outside windowsill. She couldn''t avoid seeing how far it was to the ground. For a minute she felt too queasy to move. The windowsill was so very narrow and the ground was so very distant. If she fell would she survive?


    A snarl behind her snapped her out of her alarm. Abi jumped. Distantly she felt an ache in her leg as she left the windowsill. She grabbed hold of the rails around the staircase. The abrupt halt to her fall almost wrenched her arms out of their sockets. For a minute all she could do was cling to the rails for grim life and wait for the pain to go down from "agonising" to "bearable". As soon as she could move she hauled herself up and over the rails onto the top stair.


    She''d left a bloody stain on the metal railing. Abi looked down. The pain in her leg turned out to be a long gash running from her knee almost all the way down to her ankle. It tore through her trouser leg as if the fabric was as flimsy as paper.


    A quick examination revealed the cut was shallow and not bleeding too badly. She half-leant, half-collapsed against the railing and finally looked back at the windowsill she''d jumped from.


    How did I jump so far? part of her wondered, the part that was still thinking about irrelevant details even at a time like this. The rest of her was too busy screaming a warning to care about that.


    Her blood ran cold. Ilaran stood motionless in the very spot where she had been a few minutes ago. His eyes were blank and covered with a white film. The dark magic clung to him like a cloak. Blood dripped from his nails. It took her a minute to realise that was her blood. The mystery of how she''d gotten the cut was quickly solved.


    I could''ve sworn his nails weren''t that sharp, thought the questioning part of Abi''s mind. The rest was much more preoccupied with how to get out of here.


    She reached for the door handle. Immediately Ilaran tensed. His movements were jerky and like a clockwork toy in need of winding. On the bright side that meant he probably couldn''t jump far. On the less bright side he was taller than her and wouldn''t have to jump as far to reach the rails.


    Abi glanced down at the stairs behind her. She weighed up the pain of the cut and the likelihood of her leg giving out if she tried to run.


    All right then, she thought. Here we go again.


    She turned and ran down the stairs. Against her own wishes she couldn''t resist the urge to look back. She was just in time to see Ilaran jump. He missed the rails and fell straight to the ground.


    Abi winced. That must have hurt.


    He was still lying motionless on the ground when she reached the bottom of the steps. She fought back the wish to check if he was all right. She had to get as far away as possible before he recovered. Worrying about his health could wait until she dealt with the parasite.


    <hr>


    It turned out there was something worse than being a prisoner in your own mind while someone else controlled your body. That was being a prisoner in your own mind and forced to watch as someone else controlled your body, while being unable to stop them. Ilaran stared in horror as the parasite tore open Abihira''s leg. So much blood poured from the wound that for one horrible moment he thought it had hit an artery.


    He watched with wide eyes -- well, metaphorically, since he currently couldn''t even widen his own eyes -- as she climbed onto the staircase. Fortunately it seemed the wound wasn''t as bad as it had looked. Abihira checked it and didn''t seem too concerned.


    Of course, there was also the possibility she was just a reckless idiot who didn''t know anything about serious injuries.


    The parasite was about to jump after her. Ilaran had had enough. He wasn''t feeling very kindly disposed towards Abihira right now -- she''d gotten him killed and possessed in the space of a week, which made her more personally dangerous to him than Haliran -- but this was his body. If the parasite wanted to murder her it could get a body of its own.


    He did the mental equivalent of grabbing the parasite by the neck and throttling it. Whether he did any actual damage was debatable, but he distracted it enough to make it stumble just as it jumped.


    It missed the rails and plummeted to the grass below.


    Oh no, was Ilaran''s last thought before he hit the ground. This is going to hurt.

 Chapter VIII: Living Dead

    Sooner or later I''m going to have to think about it, and then I''ll be a real mess. -- Unknown


    Not everyone had listened to Siarvin''s and Ir¨ªm¨¦''s warnings to get out of the palace. It didn''t help that they hadn''t agreed on a story beforehand and so gave two very different reasons for why the place had to be evacuated. Siarvin said there''d been a magical accident that might become dangerous. Ir¨ªm¨¦ said there was a fire alarm. Neither had sounded very convincing, though their very obvious panic got many people to realise there really was something wrong. Other people assumed they were exaggerating or mistaken and so ignored their warnings.


    Norirn Hilat¨¦vasv¨®eln had worked at Gihimayel Palace for over a thousand years. She''d seen enough people running around in a panic to know they were usually getting themselves worked up over nothing. And she was not going to let anything get in the way of her doing her duty. She''d been hired to mop the floors, so even if the end of the world was imminent she was going to mop the floors.


    The sudden absence of her co-workers turned out to be a boon for her. She could go about her work without having to interrupt other people and ask them to move out of the way. She filled the mop bucket and set to work on the entrance hall''s floor.


    Fifteen minutes later Norirn heard running footsteps. They climbed the steps leading to the palace''s main doors.


    The prank must be over now, was all she thought about it.


    One of the doors was flung open with such force it suggested the person had hurled themselves against it. A young woman staggered in and shoved the door closed behind her -- a very dishevelled young woman whose shoes were practically encased in mud. Norirn bristled. There was nothing she hated to see more than dirt on her nice clean floors.


    "Go out and take those shoes off before you come in here!" she snapped.


    The woman almost jumped out of her skin. She whirled round, eyes wide, and half-slumped half-collapsed against the door when she saw Norirn.


    "Get out!" she practically shrieked. "You''ve got to get out!"


    Norirn scowled. Who did this intruder think she was? "Young lady, I have work to do here, and whatever you''re here for can wait until--"


    There was a crash outside. The door shook with the impact.


    Another dragon? was Norirn''s first thought. The most emotion she could muster up was mild exasperation. Very little surprised her nowadays.


    The woman braced herself against the door even though she looked like she might collapse at any minute. Her voice was a high-pitched screech as she repeated, "Get out!"


    A spot of red caught Norirn''s eye. She looked down and saw there were pools of blood amidst the muddy footprints the woman had left. An inkling that this was more serious than she''d thought began to dawn on her. Then she saw the red stains on the woman''s shoe and trouser leg, and the tear in the fabric, and the brief glimpse she got of blood on the woman''s leg.


    "What happened?" she asked in horror. The last time someone had been physically injured here was over two hundred years ago, when two representatives of the rival branches of Kaxet''i''s royal family decided to have a duel in someone else''s kitchen.


    Something hit the door with such force that the woman was thrown backwards. She recovered just in time to slam it shut before whatever was out there got in. Norirn belatedly realised that she should have listened to those people who''d warned her to leave. She began to back away slowly. She picked up her mop and held it in front of herself as a makeshift weapon.


    The next time the door was rammed with even more violence. The woman was knocked to the ground. All Norirn saw was a figure hurtling towards her at tremendous speed, far too fast to see clearly. Then agonising pain shot through her neck and the world disappeared.


    <hr>


    It took Abi a painfully long minute to recover from being knocked down like that. She''d landed on her injured leg. The pain was worse now than it had been before. She pushed herself to her hands and knees.


    For several disorientating seconds she couldn''t tell if what she saw was real or a twisted flashback to Ilaran''s death. Finally she realised it was horribly real. The servant lay sprawled on the floor like a doll that had been tossed aside. Her throat was a mass of blood and muscle. All of the skin had been ripped right off. The possessed Ilaran knelt over her. Abi almost vomited when she saw him tear chunks of flesh out of the unfortunate woman''s face with his teeth.


    She staggered to her feet. The sound drew the parasite''s attention. It charged at her before she could catch her breath. She jumped out of its reach. If she''d had fewer things to worry about she would have been very confused about how she managed to jump all the way to the other side of the room. As it was she hardly even noticed where she''d landed. All that mattered was getting out of the parasite''s way. She grabbed hold of the pillar supporting the landing overhead and clambered up it in a trice.


    The servant''s body began to convulse. Abi stared in horror as the definitely dead woman stood up. Her arms hung lifelessly at her sides and her head was bent backwards unnaturally. Her muscles and blood vessels hung out of the gaping hole in her throat. Through it Abi could see the bones of her neck were snapped and crushed in multiple places.


    I have made a horrible mistake, Abi thought.


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    Necromancy had been outlawed for a reason. Now she knew exactly what that reason was.


    The parasite possessing Ilaran might not be one of the world''s greatest thinkers, but it certainly knew enough to climb the staircase and try to reach her from above. Meanwhile the undead servant lurched over to the bottom of the pillar. Luckily the landing was far above the ground floor and therefore the pillar was long enough for Abi to avoid both of them. Unluckily she was now trapped, unable to climb up or slide back down, and with the grim knowledge that she couldn''t keep hanging on here indefinitely.


    Her thoughts flew back to Ir¨ªm¨¦ turning into a dragon, then to the priests telling her she was a phoenix immortal.


    This would be a great time to prove them right.


    <hr>


    Over a thousand years ago Abi and Arafaren sat together on the nursery window-seat and listened as their mother told them a story. It was the story of a girl who learnt her hometown was about to be destroyed by a traitor in league with an enemy army. So she set out to climb all the way to the Court of the High Gods. Her journey led her through all sorts of dangers. When she finally reached the stairs leading to the gods'' court she found an enormous bird guarding them.


    "How did the bird get there?" Arafaren asked every time they heard the story.


    Abi suspected he would much rather hear that story than this one. Sometimes he got his way and their mother told them the full story of the phoenix''s creation. Sometimes she just summarised it.


    "It was born from the blood of the goddess of justice," Hartanna said. "She was injured in a battle with the gods of evil. Her blood fell into a pool of lava and took the form of a bird." This time Arafaren didn''t get his way since she immediately went back to the story she was half-way through. "The phoenix stopped the girl and told her she couldn''t come any closer. The girl asked why.


    "''Because anyone who has ever committed any sin, no matter how small, will be instantly incinerated if they come near me,'' the phoenix said.


    "The girl explained why she had come and asked for help. Remember, the phoenix was born from the goddess of justice and there is nothing it hates more than treachery. So when it heard her story it plucked out one of its feathers and gave it to the girl.


    "''Take this and give it to the traitor,'' it said. ''It has enough of my power to destroy him but not enough to hurt you.''


    "So the girl took the feather and went back home. She found the traitor was still there, pretending to be an upstanding member of the town while plotting against them. In front of everyone she handed the feather to him. At once he burst into flames and burnt until there was nothing left but ash."


    Over a thousand years later Abi remembered that story. And something buried deep inside her burned.


    <hr>


    An ear-splitting shriek rose from the entrance hall. It was cut off abruptly. If anyone had been outside they would have heard a faint crackle like a fire burning inside the hall.


    <hr>


    In the last few hours Ilaran had experienced so many horrific things that pointedly ignoring them was the only way to avoid becoming a raving lunatic. He did not think about the taste of blood in his mouth. He did not think about what the parasite would do to anyone it got its claws on. He definitely did not think about how the unfortunate cleaner had died and become a monster. Over his lifetime he''d perfected the art of focusing on trivial details and keeping certain things out of his mind until he had time to think about them and fully comprehend how nightmarish they were.


    When the parasite went up to the landing and tried to attack Abihira from above, Ilaran focused entirely on trying to fight it. He did not think about how close its claws came to tearing right through her skull. He did not think about how the second parasite down on the ground floor was trying its best to climb up after Abihira. He certainly did not think about how there was nowhere for her to go unless she grew wings.


    The parasite leaned further through the bannisters and tried to grab Abihira''s hair. Ilaran did the telepathic equivalent of punching it in the face. He still didn''t know if he was hurting it or not, but at least he distracted it. Its hand passed harmlessly several inches above Abihira''s head.


    It happened so suddenly. A flash of light, a blaze of almost unbearable heat, a blur of movement below, and the next thing he knew Abihira was gone. The pillar she''d clung to was singed. The metal bannisters were red-hot. With an angry screech the parasite recoiled from them. It raised its head. Ilaran looked through its eyes -- technically his own eyes, but that was another thing he was trying not to think about -- and did a double take.


    Abihira hovered in mid-air. Two long wings extended from her shoulders. Each of them was longer than she was tall. The flight feathers were dark blue while the covert feathers were a deep blue-green. They were shrouded in flickering blue flames.


    The presence of a phoenix, like the presence of a dragon, was said to inspire awe. Ilaran looked at Abihira and felt only exasperation -- the sort of fond exasperation he''d last felt so many years ago when Nuvildu did something stupid.


    Of bloody course she''s a phoenix, he thought.


    Ordinary people had to content themselves with obeying the laws of reality, never causing widescale chaos, and having commonplace animal forms. Abihira broke every law she felt like, unleashed monsters on an unsuspecting world, and could turn into one of the most famous birds ever to exist. He had to wonder if some god had decided to give her every blessing they could think of but forgot to give her common sense.


    Abihira''s head twisted back and forth as she looked from one of her wings to the other. Ilaran had never seen her look so baffled.


    "...Huh," she said at last. "So I am a phoenix."


    If he''d been himself Ilaran would have had trouble resisting the temptation to shake her until he shook some sense into her.


    Now is not the time to worry about that! he yelled telepathically. You''re supposed to be able to destroy evil, so destroy those parasites! He paused as he remembered the stories about phoenixes. Everyone agreed that they destroyed every sinner without discrimination. Ilaran knew perfectly well that he''d committed many sins in his life. ...And try not to destroy me.


    The parasite possessing the servant recovered from its shock. It was apparently not a very intelligent parasite because the first thing it did was try to grab Abihira. With a beat of her wings she shot out of its reach and almost flew right up to the ceiling. Her startled yelp showed she hadn''t meant to do that. She tried to fly lower and did a mid-air somersault instead. In spite of the seriousness of the situation Ilaran couldn''t help remembering his attempts to get used to his eagle form. He winced in sympathy. At least Abihira did not appear to have a fear of heights to contend with as well as her new wings.


    Speaking of wings, why was she in her in-between form? Why hadn''t she completely turned into a bird instead of just gaining a bird''s wings?


    Ilaran thought of the trouble they''d had getting Ir¨ªm¨¦ un-dragonified and grimaced. They''d better not be in for a repeat of that.


    The second parasite made another leap for Abihira. She swung one of her wings directly at its head. It burst into flames before her wing even touched it.


    An ear-splitting shriek rose from the entrance hall. It was cut off abruptly as the parasite was wholly consumed by blue and white flames. Within seconds it disintegrated. All that remained were specks of ash and scorch marks on the floor.

 Chapter IX: From the Ashes

    The four lesser apocalyptical horsemen of Panic, Bewilderment, Ignorance, and Shouting took control of the room. -- Terry Pratchett, Monstrous Regiment


    In almost every way Gengxin was exactly the same as Mirio remembered. His cousins were trying to murder each other, his cousins'' wives were trying to murder their husbands'' secondary consorts and their husbands'' other children, the eunuchs were stealing from the treasury, and there was at least one attempted murder in the palace every other day. Business as usual, in other words. From time to time he was tempted to look back on Seroyawa with more fondness than it really deserved. Then he remembered that it was every bit as much of a mess as Gengxin and the only reason it seemed better in comparison was that the royal family was smaller.


    But there was one way in which Gengxin was very different to how he remembered. He''d met Zi Yao a few times before and never paid much attention to him. His youngest cousin had been born sickly and so far the years had not improved his health. Mirio knew his uncle had sought the help of many doctors from all over the world to find a cure. No one had ever succeeded.


    Until now, apparently. When Mirio first heard of the foreign doctor who could stop Zi Yao''s seizures he''d almost laughed in the chief eunuch''s face.


    "For over two hundred years every doctor who''s examined Zi Yao has said he can''t be cured," Mirio said. "This new doctor has to be a fraud."


    The chief eunuch shook his head. "We''ve set traps for him. We''ve tested him again and again. We just can''t find any proof he''s lying. You see, he doesn''t claim to be able to cure the Ninth Prince. He just says he can control the seizures."


    "And he can?" Mirio asked disbelievingly. "How? Who is he and where did he study to gain knowledge no one else has?"


    Ever since the chief eunuch had cornered him on his walk around the gardens Mirio had expected to be asked for some favour. He wasn''t at all surprised when the eunuch''s voice took on the wheedling tone of someone who wanted something and was determined to get it no matter what resistance they faced.


    "That''s what all of us want to know, your Highness. We suspect dark magic."


    It took a great deal of self-restraint not to scoff. "I''ve never heard of dark magic being used to heal anyone."


    "Neither have we!" the eunuch hastened to say. "Yet there is something very odd about that man even if it isn''t dark magic. We want to make sure he isn''t a threat to the kingdom. He won''t talk to any of us -- I think he knows we''re suspicious -- so we thought... since Your Highness is a foreigner... and since Your Highness is familiar with the Saoridhians..."


    "You keep saying ''we''. Who are ''we''?" Mirio asked dubiously.


    "Myself and the other eunuchs, and the maidservants, and the cooks, and the court physicians, and the astrologers, and the ministers, and the soothsayers, and some of the princes, and the Noble Royal Consort, and the Chief of the Peacekeeping Corps."


    The Noble Royal Consort was one of his uncle''s concubines and the mother of the Second and Fifth Princes. Zi Yao was the son of a consort with a much lower rank. Light dawned. Suddenly the mystery of how a foreign doctor had gained so many enemies was solved.


    I see, Mirio thought. If Zi Yao lives he''ll become another threat to the Noble Royal Consort''s sons. Apparently this doctor can partly cure Zi Yao. If he leaves Zi Yao''s health will deteriorate again. So she opposes the doctor and her supporters follow her lead.


    As for all the other people who the chief eunuch claimed were suspicious of the doctor, that was easily explained. No one liked a foreigner barging in and being able to do what everyone else had failed at.


    "So you want me to find proof he''s up to no good," Mirio said bluntly.


    The chief eunuch looked around nervously. Who he expected to overhear them when they were in the middle of a large garden, without enough cover nearby to conceal so much as a stray cat, was a mystery.


    "Well... Yes, your Highness."


    It was a ridiculous and presumptuous request. The doctor was probably guilty of nothing worse than having unusually effective methods of treatment and being a foreigner. Common sense told Mirio to have nothing to do with it.


    Kiriyuki and Abihira spent their lives disregarding common sense. Mirio had usually been the one left to pick up the pieces and mitigate the damage if at all possible. Why shouldn''t he see what it was like on the other side for once?


    "I''ll consider it," he said.


    <hr>


    Under other circumstances Abi would have been very curious to find out what her new powers were capable of. Could she completely turn into a phoenix? Would she always be stuck with just a pair of wings attached to her immortal form? How was she to turn back? Under the current circumstances, unfortunately, all of those questions would have to wait for later. Much later. One of the parasites was dead. The other one would be much more difficult to deal with.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The possessed Ilaran stood frozen in place on the landing. He hadn''t moved since Abi turned into a phoenix, or even when she destroyed the other parasite. Experimentally she flew closer to him. He still remained fixed to one spot. All that changed was that she suddenly heard the real Ilaran''s voice in her head. "Heard" was an understatement. He practically deafened her.


    What do you think you''re doing?


    Abi squawked and almost fell out of the air at his yell. When she recovered she did her best to make her annoyance show in her telepathic voice. I''m trying to kill that thing and save you. What does it look like I''m doing?


    You idiot, if you come any closer you''ll kill me too!


    ...Oh. She retreated to a safe distance. Now she couldn''t hear Ilaran any more. She didn''t know whether that meant she was out of his telepathic range or whether he''d simply stopped talking.


    She considered the situation. Obviously the thing to do was force the parasite out of Ilaran''s body. Time to try an exorcism.


    Abi gathered her magic, and promptly let it dissipate when before her amazed eyes the small flames around her wings blazed up. The effect lasted only a few seconds. As soon as the last traces of the planned spell disappeared, the flames went back to being little more than flickers of light.


    For the first time it truly dawned on Abi that part of her body was on fire. She didn''t feel any pain, she didn''t even feel much heat beyond a sort of gentle warmth, yet her wings were burning. Until now she hadn''t realised the name "fire-wing[1]" was literal. Another thing to think about later.


    Once again she began an exorcism spell. This time she was prepared when her wings turned into a roaring fire. Even so it was still alarming. Also alarming was the fact she seemed to have a lot more magic now. And it was very hard to control. She cast the exorcism in the wrong direction and with enough force to blow a hole in the palace wall.


    The possessed Ilaran remained as still as a statue. But Abi just knew the real Ilaran was giving her an unimpressed look.


    <hr>


    What idiot gave her so much magic? They might as well have handed a bomb to a toddler!


    After the second parasite''s fiery demise Ilaran found the one possessing him had loosened its hold on him. He immediately tried to kick it out. What followed was somewhere between a magical duel and a fistfight. Blows flew back and forth without either being injured or gaining the upper hand. All that he knew he achieved was distracting the parasite so it couldn''t flee.


    Add to that the fact the only person who might be able to help might also accidentally kill him for the second time in as many weeks. Really, at this rate he''d need to check himself into an asylum as soon as he got un-possessed.


    The only good thing was that Abihira was at least staying away from him now. Less chance of a painful death that way.


    He was so preoccupied with fighting the parasite that he didn''t notice her cast the exorcism spell. The first he knew about it was when it struck him.


    It hurt.


    Yes, it got rid of the parasite. But it did that by essentially grabbing hold of the parasite and wrenching it out of Ilaran''s body. It felt like someone was trying to tear him in half. Finally the pain ended. The parasite was gone. Ilaran, back in control of his own body for the first time in what felt like an eternity, collapsed on the landing. The taste of blood still lingered in his mouth.


    He''d planned to make himself vomit later to get rid of the unfortunate servant''s flesh that the parasite had eaten. The taste of her blood did that for him. A wave of nausea swept over him.


    <hr>


    Abi hadn''t expected her exorcism to work so well. In fact at first she''d thought it was backfiring horribly. Ilaran screamed and thrashed around like he was being tortured. Then the screaming stopped and a cloud of dark magic formed above his body.


    So that''s the parasite, Abi thought with a shudder. The thing looked like a mass of smoke, but she could catch glimpses of what looked like teeth and bones in the middle of it. Now to destroy it.


    Taking care to stay as far away from Ilaran as possible -- and pretending not to notice him being sick -- she flew closer to the parasite. It shrank back from her. She was just beginning to think it would be easy to get rid of when it charged at her.


    Abi flung herself backwards. In the process she accidentally did a mid-air cartwheel that led to her falling to the floor. She stared up at the ceiling for a minute as she tried to remember how to stand up. She pushed herself to her hands and knees just as the parasite charged at her. It struck her right in the chest. For a horrible dizzying minute she felt like someone was trying to push her soul out of her body.


    Instinctively her wings folded around her to defend herself. They grazed against the parasite. It recoiled with an audible wail. Smoke rose from its body. Abi found herself fully in her body again. It was a very disorientating feeling.


    She glared at the parasite. Absently she noticed that the flames around her wings were once again blazing up like a bonfire.


    The parasite was apparently not very intelligent. It charged at her again. Abi lashed out at it with her wings. Neither of them struck it. They didn''t have to. She watched in astonishment as a jet of blue fire shot from her wings straight towards the parasite.


    Within seconds it burned to ash like the previous one had. But the fire didn''t stop there. It rocketed across the room, hit the wall with a sound like an explosion, and burnt right through the wall into the room beyond.


    Horrified, Abi retracted her wings and folded them back behind her shoulders. Luckily that put out the fire. But the damage was done. There was now a large round hole in the wall. The smell of smoke filled the air. A sizzling sound in the room beyond suggested that something else had caught fire.


    Abi looked down at the floor where she''d fallen a minute ago. She groaned. There were two large scorch-marks on the tiles where her wings had been. She could already hear what her grandmother would say about that. It looked like she was going to be landed with another fine soon.


    She was so preoccupied by the shocking state of the palace that she didn''t notice Ilaran get up and walk down the stairs. It took her a minute to notice him standing at the bottom of the stairs and giving her a very unimpressed look.


    "What?" Abi asked defensively. "I saved you, didn''t I?"


    Ilaran scowled. "You were the one who put me in danger to begin with."


    Unfortunately she couldn''t argue with that. But surely he could show just a little bit more gratitude!


    Apparently he thought the same thing. After a pause he said reluctantly, "Thank you."


    The two of them stared silently at the damage for a while.


    "I didn''t mean to do all this," Abi said at last.


    Ilaran muttered something under his breath. "I know you didn''t. If you''d meant to do it, probably you wouldn''t have succeeded in doing any of it. I have just one question." He stared at her as if she was a particularly strange insect under a microscope. "How have you managed to live for over a thousand years without destroying the entire planet?"

 Chapter X: Mirio and Lian

    All things are defined by names. Change the name, and you change the thing. -- Terry Pratchett, Pyramids


    After his conversation with the chief eunuch Mirio returned to his room and began planning how to learn more about the foreign doctor. The best way would be to talk to him and see if he behaved oddly. Over five hundred years of Abihira''s near-constant companionship had given Mirio a sixth sense for when someone was hiding something. Surely it would work just as well on the doctor.


    Now, how was he going to get a chance to talk to him?


    <hr>


    In general Mirio did not need to find excuses to talk to someone. If he wanted to speak to them all he had to do was attend court and draw them aside afterwards or send a servant to find them and bring them to see him. Neither approach would work here. Doctors did not attend court unless the ministers progressed from verbal blows to physical ones. And if Mirio sent a servant to summon the doctor it would be all over the palace within an hour. He''d have no end of people inquiring after his health. Not to mention all the official physicians who''d be mortally offended he went to a foreigner instead of to them.


    He considered the situation for the rest of the day and half of the following morning. The absurd part of his mind, the part he steadfastly refused to give free rein to because all his life he''d needed to be the only sane person in the entire family, suggested he should fake being sick. The much more logical part of his mind shouted that idea down before he could seriously consider it. The foreign doctor was Zi Yao''s physician and no one else''s. He''d just end up being poked and prodded at by all of the royal physicians. Anyway, it was in bad taste to fake an illness right after his cousin had died of one and while another cousin was still sick.


    Whatever was wrong with the Second Prince must be fairly serious. Mirio hadn''t seen him once since he arrived. He stopped that train of thought very quickly. The last thing he needed was to get distracted by something else.


    In the end he settled on the easiest and most logical way of meeting the foreign doctor. Lian was supposed to spend almost his entire day watching over Zi Yao. Visit Zi Yao and there was no way to avoid meeting Lian. So Mirio set off for the Ninth Prince''s palace.


    It was traditional for Mirio to bring gifts with him when he came to visit his cousins. Zi Yao''s gift was a clockwork bird that would sing when wound up. Delivering it would give him a good enough reason to visit.


    Like all young children Zi Yao had an incomprehensible fondness for dirty, muddy places. When Mirio arrived at his palace he found his youngest cousin crouching in a pond. His clothes were so mud-splattered he looked like he''d taken a flying leap into a mudhole.


    Zi Yao paid no attention whatsoever when the servant announced Mirio. He didn''t even look up from the rock he was poking and prodding. It fell to his mother to greet their guest.


    "As you can see my son is feeling much better lately, your Highness," Lady Yuan said in answer to Mirio''s polite inquiry after Zi Yao''s health. She glanced over at her son, who was still absorbed in splashing around in the water. The faintest hint of an embarrassed expression crossed her face. "I believe he''s looking for frogs."


    Maybe I should have got a clockwork frog instead, he thought as Lady Yuan called Zi Yao.


    The little boy refused to leave the pond. His mother left Mirio waiting on the path as she hurried over to drag Zi Yao out. Mirio took the clockwork bird out of the pocket in his sleeve and wound it up briefly to make sure it was still working. Its wings flapped and its beak opened in time with the tune. Satisfied, he kept it in his hand while he looked around.


    For obvious reasons the Ninth Prince''s palace was much smaller and less ornate than the other princes'' palaces. There was only one maidservant in sight, helping Lady Yuan get the prince out of the pond in spite of his complaints. The doctor was nowhere to be seen at all.


    A flicker of movement through one of the windows caught Mirio''s eye. He turned his head. For a second he could have sworn someone was standing right behind the window and staring directly at him. He blinked. There was a figure in the room, yes, but they were sitting down and had their head lowered. Probably his eyes had played tricks on him.


    Lady Yuan half-led, half-dragged a very unhappy Zi Yao over to Mirio. The little prince was clutching something to his chest. Painful memories of his half-siblings when they were that age made Mirio fear he was about to have mud thrown at his face. He knelt down warily, ready to jump back at any minute.


    "Hello, Zi Yao," he said, holding out the bird. "This is for you."


    Zi Yao eyed it dubiously. He reached for it with one hand while keeping the other against his chest. After examining it for a minute he grinned and held out his other hand.


    Mirio looked at Lady Yuan for guidance. Lady Yuan looked confused and exasperated but not alarmed. Relatively reassured that it wasn''t a prank, Mirio leant closer to see what Zi Yao was holding. A small frog sat in the palm of his hand. It ribbited softly but made no attempt to escape.


    Thank heavens it''s not an insect, Mirio thought. Seitomu and Nozomi had been obsessed with carrying insects around when they were Zi Yao''s age.


    "Did you catch this yourself?" he asked.


    Zi Yao nodded proudly. "For you!"


    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.


    ...Oh dear. Mirio realised two things in exactly the same instant. One, he couldn''t possibly keep a frog as a pet. He didn''t know anything about frogs. Two, toddlers tended to cause a scene when they didn''t get their way. He could just imagine the hell Zi Yao would raise if he refused the gift.


    "Thank you very much," he said politely, very carefully picking up the little thing. He could set it loose in the lake near his room.


    Zi Yao grabbed his sleeve and began tugging him very insistently into the palace. Mirio allowed himself to be led indoors. He held the frog loosely in his hand so it could escape if it wanted to.


    He expected to be shown some other animal Zi Yao had collected. Instead he was led into a small and sparsely-furnished room that appeared to be a combination of a bedroom and a library. Someone sat on the luohan bed[1], poring over a document. They looked up when Zi Yao and Mirio walked in. It was the foreign doctor.


    Once again the first thing Mirio noticed about him were his eyes. He shuddered involuntarily. There was something very eerie about those eyes.


    Lian''s face was long and narrow and his skin was very pale. Instead of the blue-and-greyish-brown robes worn by most doctors[2] he wore a long-sleeved cross-collar robe that was white at the top and became blue at the bottom. His dark brown hair was loose. If Mirio hadn''t known better he would have assumed he was a young nobleman rather than a mere doctor.


    Zi Yao bounded over to Lian and held up the clockwork bird. He pointed out the intricate detail of its feathers, the way its paint glittered when it caught the light, and how the key to wind it up was shaped like a branch. Lian obligingly admired everything Zi Yao mentioned. Mirio watched him closely. After a few minutes he had seen no evidence of anything more sinister about Lian than a fondness for fine clothes -- and his eyes, but he could hardly do anything about them.


    The little frog croaked a few times and moved around in his hand. Mirio kept his face blank while internally he panicked. He couldn''t set it loose in the palace. He couldn''t go outside without Zi Yao noticing. He was too far away from the window to put it out there. What was he to do with it?


    Lian looked up at the first croak. His eyes focused on Mirio''s hand. He smiled wryly. Even though the frog was concealed by his fingers Mirio had the strangest feeling the doctor could see it.


    "Why don''t you put your gift in your room so it doesn''t get damaged?" he asked Zi Yao.


    The little prince cheerfully agreed. He bounded out of the room and disappeared. Judging by the voices outside his mother and the maidservant were trying to convince him it was time for his nap. Lian got up and bowed perfunctorily.


    "I believe we would all be much happier if that frog was back in the pond, your Highness," he said with the hint of a smile playing around his mouth. "Will I take him back for you?"


    Mirio handed the frog over with a feeling of profound relief. He couldn''t help noticing Lian''s hands were very cold. The frog made a valiant effort to escape. It succeeded when Lian was half-way out the door.


    That was how a prince and a doctor ended up spending half an hour crawling around the palace floor and looking under furniture. They never did find the frog. Luckily Zi Yao was taking a nap and didn''t find out.


    "I suppose it''s gone back to the pond," Lian said when they finally gave up. His face had a dusty mark on it and his hair was a mess.


    "I suppose so," Mirio said for the sake of saying something. He would have to leave soon and he still hadn''t had a proper conversation with Lian. If he left now, who knew when he''d have another chance? "Do you want to have tea with me?"


    "Certainly, your Highness."


    Lian smiled. Just for a minute Mirio could have sworn that smile was familiar. He puzzled over it during the walk back to the palace where he was staying. It was nothing like Abihira''s smile and he couldn''t think of anyone else it would remind him of. He was sure he''d never met Lian before. It must just be a coincidence.


    <hr>


    After a cup of tea they switched to alcohol. Gengxinese wine was much stronger than Seroyawan wine. A few cups later they were both in a very talkative mood.


    "What part of Saoridhl¨¦m are you from?" Mirio asked.


    "Kashur?," Lian said, reaching for the bottle again. "Ever been there?"


    Mirio shook his head. His visits to Saoridhl¨¦m were confined to the capital city and he had only the vaguest idea of where Kashur? was. Somewhere to the north-west? Or was he getting confused with Kas¨²n, which was definitely in the north-west?


    "You have a... a..." Lian stopped. He muttered under his breath as he searched for the word. "A tehatye. Minsau.[3]"


    Mirio was relatively fluent in Saoridhin, but even so it took his brain a minute to translate that. When he did translate it he was just as confused as ever. "...A what?"


    Lian continued to grumble to himself. Finally he found the word he was looking for. "Iyan¨ªris!"


    At last Mirio understood. "A foster sister?"


    "That''s it," Lian agreed. "I couldn''t think of the Gengxinese word for it. Or the Saoridhin word either. Anyway, you have a foster sister from Saoridhl¨¦m, don''t you?"


    "Yes." The mention of Abihira made Mirio wonder what she was up to. Hopefully nothing too insane. "She''s from Eldrin."


    "Never been there," Lian said with a shrug.


    He looked mildly disappointed by this. Mirio wondered if he was homesick and hoping for someone he could talk to about home.


    "Why did you leave Saoridhl¨¦m?" he asked.


    Lian took another drink before answering. "Family trouble. I wandered around for decades then came here." A shadow briefly passed over his face. "I stayed because Zi Yao reminds me of my youngest brother."


    Years of living around people who had secrets to keep had taught Mirio when a conversation was straying close to dangerous territory. In Saoridhin he said, "Do you ever want to go home?"


    Lian brightened up again. In the same language he replied, "Sometimes. The rest of the time I''m happy here." He fell silent again for a few minutes. Then, "I miss my name the most."


    "What?"


    "My name. No one here can pronounce it so they call me Lian. Lian like pity[4]. I don''t mind, but..."


    It was a long and time-honoured tradition that when you moved to a country that couldn''t pronounce your name then you changed it to one they could pronounce. Mirio''s mother had done it. Abihira had been luckier in that her name could be pronounced in Seroyawan, although not in exactly the same way as in Saoridhin. While in Gengxin Mirio''s name became Lan Zhou -- though in practice his cousins continued to use his Seroyawan name, and few other people were allowed to use his personal name at all. His distant cousin Yoshio had moved to Hyon-eun and changed his name to Yeo. It was something Mirio was used to and had never thought much about before.


    "What is your name?" he asked.


    Lian was quiet for a while. Then, "Vieraneth." He smiled wryly. "Four syllables, two sounds that don''t exist in Gengxinese, and it becomes gibberish when transliterated. See why no one can pronounce it?"


    <hr>


    They drank and talked for a while longer. At last Lian got up.


    "Thank you for the wine, your Highness," he said, bowing. "Goodbye."


    "Goodbye, Vieraneth," Mirio said. He didn''t know if he''d pronounced it exactly right -- it contained sounds that didn''t exist in Seroyawan either -- but it seemed rude not to try.


    The doctor started. Then he smiled. His eyes didn''t seem nearly so eerie when he smiled.

 Chapter XI: Pick Up The Pieces

    You can''t make things right by magic. You can only stop making them wrong. -- Terry Pratchett, Witches Abroad


    Since Haliran was moved to her new prison she hadn''t seen anyone but the guards. They were a very boring lot. None of them would say a word to her. In fact they wouldn''t even talk to each other when they knew she could hear. She gritted her teeth and made a pretence of being a good prisoner while she waited for one of them to make a mistake. If she could learn where she was, if she could even find out how many guards there were, she would have some solid information to work with. As it was she knew only that she was still somewhere in Eldrin.


    It was looking more and more likely they were trying to kill her with boredom.


    All of the days blurred together. She had no idea if it had been one week or two since the trial. At long last someone came to visit her.


    It wasn''t any of her acquaintances. It was just the lawyer who had been assigned to her case. The woman obviously had no interest in Haliran or her crimes. Like all lawyers the only thing she wanted was a case she could win, and instead she''d been handed one where her client''s guilt was obvious. She made a half-hearted attempt to inform Haliran of possible options to lessen her sentence.


    "You could plead not guilty, but it would be a waste of time. The police have searched your house. Your ex-husband showed them where you hid incriminating evidence."


    Haliran had only listened with half an ear until she heard the word ''ex-husband''. Then her head snapped up. "Ex-husband?"


    The lawyer nodded, looking bored. "The empress personally declared your marriage was illegal and granted him a divorce."


    Boiling rage filled Haliran''s chest. How dare Siarvin cast her aside like that? How could he be so disloyal after everything she''d done for him? She''d given him a house, food, clothes, and asked so little in return! In her haste to make herself the victim she conveniently overlooked the little fact she had raped him, forced him into marriage, and kept him prisoner for centuries.


    The lawyer continued talking in a very dull, uninterested tone. "The best thing for you to do would be to admit everything. The result will be the same and it will make everything go so much more smoothly."


    Over the years Haliran had always known there was the chance she might be caught one day. She''d made plans for it. None of her plans had included Siarvin plotting against her and so all of them were useless. But lately she had made new ones. She''d had nothing better to do while sitting in her cell for days.


    "I wasn''t alone," she said. "I can name all my accomplices."


    "The police have already found all that information."


    Haliran grinned. "Not all of it. There are things I didn''t keep in my house. Don''t you think they''d want to know who assassinated the president of Eyphia?"


    That got the lawyer''s attention. For the first time she actually looked at Haliran instead of reading her notes and addressing them in Haliran''s general direction. The president had been surrounded by his bodyguards when he was shot dead in the middle of a busy street without anyone seeing the assassin. Haliran didn''t actually know who was responsible. But if she pretended she did, and if she gave the name of an assassin she knew was long dead and couldn''t object, she would have a bargaining chip and a chance to get out of this mess.


    "I''ll have to ask," the lawyer said, picking up her briefcase with a distracted air. She left without another word.


    <hr>


    Kiriyuki, unaware of what was happening in Gihimayel Palace, sat down to write letters to her parents and Mirio. The first letter was finished quickly and sent off to the Seroyawan embassy. The second one would have to go to the Gengxinese embassy instead.


    Just to make sure no one read it before it was forwarded to Mirio, Kiriyuki took the precaution of writing it in common Seroyawan vocabulary but with classical Seroyawan characters. Gengxin''s writing system shared many characters with common Seroyawan, but classical Seroyawan characters were much more complicated and in some cases completely different than their modern equivalents. Add to that the fact Gengxinese still used many of the bone-script characters that had fallen into disuse or been altered beyond recognition while Seroyawan had abandoned them over seventy thousand years ago, and she hoped no one would be able to decipher her message.


    Excellent news, she wrote. Abihira has seen sense and given up necromancy.


    She gave a very brief account of the disrupted festival. Then she moved on to the drama of Haliran being exposed, described Ir¨ªm¨¦ turning into a dragon, and added a few choice words about Uncle Arikimi''s fondness for lecturing people and need to mind his own business. If she''d thought there was any chance of her parents reading that part she would never have written it. Luckily Mirio had gotten into the habit of destroying any letter that could by any stretch of the imagination be considered incriminating. Kiriyuki had no doubt her letter would go straight into the fire as soon as he finished reading it.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.


    She ended with, I hope you''re home by the time I get back. I can face Mother and Father more easily if you''re there to back me up.


    Kiriyuki sealed the letter in an envelope and sent a servant to deliver it to the Gengxinese embassy. She picked up a book and began reading with a relatively light heart.


    She would have been much less cheerful if she knew what was about to happen in Gengxin.


    <hr>


    It always took someone a while to recover after a time of prolonged stress and fear. That just became even more true when the stress was better described as "getting possessed by a cannibalistic monster that could create more of itself" and the fear was the terror of getting eaten by something you had accidentally created. Logically both Abi and Ilaran knew there were people waiting outside who hadn''t a clue what had happened and would want answers. Neither of them felt up to giving those answers right now.


    Ilaran made a half-hearted attempt to scrub the burns off the floor with the mop left behind by the unfortunate cleaner. It was a futile endeavour, but it gave him something to do other than sit around and wait for the full horror of the past hours to dawn on him.


    Now that Abi was no longer in danger, her injured leg began to ache. Every kitchen had a first aid kit in case of accidents. She hobbled into the kitchen, pulled the first aid kit out of the cupboard, and sat down to examine her leg.


    Her trouser leg was ripped in two from the hem to the knee. She pushed the two halves away and winced when she saw the cut. It wasn''t deep, but it reached from her ankle almost to her knee. Dried blood covered her whole leg, her trousers, and her shoe. First she wiped off as much of the blood as she could. Then she hunted through the first aid kit for a plaster large enough to cover the whole wound. There wasn''t one. All she could find was a roll of bandages.


    Abi wound them tightly around her lower leg. She hissed at the pain. Later she''d have to go to a doctor. She might even need stitches. Speaking of stitches, she had better find a way to sew up her trouser leg. The fewer questions she had to answer, the better.


    Ilaran has a sewing kit in his rooms, she remembered. That thought was quickly followed by, I''ll have to ask him to get it. I can''t walk that far.


    With some difficulty she got up. Having wings threw off her balance and putting weight on her injured leg was out of the question. She half-hopped and half-flew back to the entrance hall.


    Ilaran had given up scrubbing the floor. He knelt in front of the scorch marks, staring down at the floor with an eerily lifeless look in his eyes. For a minute Abi worried there was something wrong with him again. He raised his head and listened without any visible interest when she spoke. Abi had to repeat herself twice before he understood.


    "Sewing kit?" he said. His voice was flat and devoid of all emotions. "Oh yes. My sewing kit. I''ll get it."


    He got up, then paused. He stared at her with a faintly puzzled expression. "Why haven''t you changed back?"


    Truth be told Abi wanted to change back. Now that she wasn''t using them her wings were an uncomfortable weight on her back and a damned nuisance when trying to go through a doorway. But like Ir¨ªm¨¦ a week ago she just didn''t know how to change back. Nor did she want to admit that.


    "I need them to walk because my leg''s hurt," she said.


    Ilaran winced. "Sorry."


    Abi shrugged. "It wasn''t your fault."


    <hr>


    When the parasite was removed Ilaran had at first felt horror and revulsion when he thought of what it had used his body to do. A few minutes passed and he stopped feeling anything at all. He''d been in shock enough times to recognise this numbness. He also knew it would wear off, and then he would really be in a state. So he did his best to find something, anything to distract himself. Focus on one thing at a time and forget everything else. Go back to his rooms. Get the sewing kit. Bring it back to Abihira.


    He got as far as his front door before the numbness wore off. Seeing the damage the parasite had done -- the door broken in two, the claw marks on the door and walls, the splinters all over the ground -- brought back the terror of being a helpless spectator in his own mind. Walking into the bedroom made the memory of the endless hunger come rushing back. A dozen nightmares warred in his head. Ilaran fell to his knees and screamed.


    <hr>


    Gengxin''s royal palace was always quiet at night. Usually the only sound was the faint babbling of the river that flowed through the grounds. Mirio tossed and turned for ages before he could finally get to sleep. His father''s palace was right next to the sea and he was used to hearing the waves as he fell asleep. This quiet just didn''t seem natural.


    It was the early hours of the morning and he was still wide awake when the gong rang. He jumped up so quickly that he fell out of bed.


    The gong rang again and again. Four times it rang. Then it stopped. The sound of a crowd hurrying back and forth took its place.


    Mirio climbed back into bed and tried to fall asleep. Whatever it was could wait until daylight. A real emergency would have been announced by the warning bells, the war drums, and the great gong in the throne room. This was a much smaller gong and therefore warned of a much smaller emergency. Maybe there was a fire in one of the kitchens. Maybe it was as simple as a guard who was late for his shift and was put down as missing. At any rate he was not going to investigate at such an unearthly hour.


    The hurrying footsteps continued. They grew louder and louder even though they didn''t come near Mirio''s room. Now he could hear a murmur of agitated voices.


    Damn it. He wasn''t going to get any peace anyway, so he might as well see what was happening.


    One of the palaces was surrounded by a throng of guards, servants and eunuchs. A handful of his uncle''s concubines ventured out too. The palace doors were wide open and someone inside was crying.


    Mirio looked up at the sign above the doors. Second Prince''s Manor, it read. An unpleasant suspicion began to dawn on him.


    One of the imperial physicians stepped out of the palace. He murmured something to the chief eunuch. The chief eunuch turned and hurried away. Whispers spread through the crowd like wildfire. All of them said more or less the same thing.


    "The Second Prince is dead!"

 Chapter XII: Plague

    "You can say what you like, Reepicheep. There are some things no man can face."


    "It is, then, my good fortune not to be a man," replied Reepicheep with a very stiff bow.


    -- C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader


    The death of one prince was a tragedy. The death of two, so close together and of the same plague, was nothing short of a calamity. Especially when no one else had caught the plague and none of the doctors could agree on what it was. For the second time in as many months the palace was plunged into mourning. Everyone went around -- in public at least -- with an air of deep grief. But there was worse still to come.


    Within hours of the Second Prince''s death being confirmed, the Fifth and Eighth Princes came down with fevers. On their chests were the same blotchy patches that had been found on their dead brothers'' bodies.


    The king took action. "All of the princes will be confined in their manors for at least a month. I want every doctor in the kingdom to examine the Second Prince''s body. Anyone who can cure it will be rewarded with a noble title and lands."


    General mayhem reigned through the imperial doctors'' quarters. Harried-looking servants rushed back and forth carrying messages to different apothecaries all over Tiansheng, Gengxin''s capital city, and even beyond. Magicians specialising in preservation spells were brought in to prevent the Second Prince''s body decaying too much. A veritable flood of doctors, both real and pretend, swept into the palace. There were so many of them that the court physicians ran out of room in their laboratories. The kitchen staff complained loudly about having to feed so many extra people.


    Mirio looked at the unfolding chaos and decided it was time to move further away from the main palace. He couldn''t get a minute''s peace with all this activity.


    The Ninth Prince''s Manor was the only one of the princes'' palaces not off-limits to the rest of the palace. Zi Yao rarely left his home and even more rarely received visitors, so there was little chance of him taking ill. Mirio had not had any contact with the ill princes, so it was judged safe enough for him to temporarily move into the Ninth Prince''s Manor and leave the Guest Palace for the doctors to convert into a miniature hospital.


    I would have had more peace if I stayed home, he thought as his servants bustled around his new rooms and grumbled about the lack of space for all his clothes.


    Zi Yao at least was happy about the new state of affairs. He dragged Mirio into his playroom and showed him all of his drawings.


    "Look!" he exclaimed, holding up a sheet of paper covered with black and yellow stripes.


    Mirio took a wild guess. "A bee?"


    He must have guessed right because Zi Yao beamed. Next he picked up a sheet covered with orange and dots of black. Mirio studied it and couldn''t make heads or tails of it.


    "How nice," he said. "What is it?"


    "Tiger!" Zi Yao made it sound as if Mirio was very silly for not knowing this.


    After Zi Yao went to have his nap Mirio remarked, partly to himself, "I wish I knew how to deal with children."


    For the past hour Lian sat in the corner of the playroom, apparently absorbed in a novel. It was very easy to forget he was there until he spoke. "You deal with him better than his tutors. They have no patience with him at all."


    Once again Lian was wearing much nicer clothes than doctors normally wore -- a dark blue round-collared robe patterned with stars. Mirio had seen marquises attend court wearing less expensive materials. Just how much was his uncle paying Lian?


    It seemed rude to ask, especially when Lian at least had the good taste to wear clothes that were expensive but not tacky. That showed he had better sense than many of the king''s ministers, who turned up to social events looking like the victims of a tailor''s practical joke.


    "What do you think is wrong with my cousins?" Mirio asked instead.


    Lian shrugged. "I haven''t fully examined any of them, but my first diagnosis was..." He trailed off and looked mildly uncomfortable. "Well, I thought they had caught a disease from, shall we say, an intimate acquaintance."


    "That was my thought too," Mirio said. "I''d believe it of Zi Xiao and Zi Guang[1]. But Zi Qin isn''t old enough for that. He''s only two thousand."


    As soon as the words were out of his mouth he remembered two thousand was not actually that young and someone of that age was in fact an adult. Lian''s face suggested he was thinking along the same lines.


    "Their later symptoms made me change my mind," Lian continued. "If the disease spread more widely I''d say it was malaria. The spots are what confuses me. I''ve heard of malaria causing jaundice but I''ve never heard of it giving people spots."


    A few drops of rain landed on the courtyard outside. They came more and more frequently until the rain was pouring down. Mirio watched it fall while he continued to puzzle over the strange disease.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    "Could it be measles?" he asked.


    "That was what the Crown Prince''s doctor diagnosed. None of the treatments for measles worked." Lian was quiet for a minute. Then he said in a hushed voice, "I''m beginning to suspect a curse."


    Mirio''s first instinct was to laugh at that idea. He could understand someone cursing Zi Xiao. Maybe even Zi Guang or Zi Qing. But Zi Qin? What had he ever done to make anyone want to curse him? Most people outside the royal family didn''t even know the Eighth Prince''s name.


    Then he remembered the sorry saga of Crown Prince Shao of Western Zhou, who cursed his father and brothers to get the throne. Instead he set off a civil war that ended with his own death and Western Zhou''s destruction.


    If there was a curse, the most likely suspect was one of the royal family. And it would end with far more deaths.


    "I''ll tell Uncle," Mirio said. "He''ll know how to investigate this."


    Lian pursed his lips. "That will just let the magician responsible know that they''ve been found out. What we need is someone skilled in tracing dark magic and breaking curses. I don''t know anyone like that. Do you?"


    Mirio thought for a while. There was only one person he knew who''d meddled enough in dark magic to recognise it quickly. Unfortunately she was more likely to accidentally make a curse worse than to break it. "I know someone who knows a lot about dark magic. We''ll need someone else to break the curse."


    Now how was he going to get Abihira''s help when she was in Saoridhl¨¦m?


    <hr>


    Shizuki''s new books kept him occupied for almost two hours. He curled up on a bench at the side of the pavement and started reading. He finished one book and got half-way through a second one before he got tired of this.


    "What do you think''s happening in there?" he asked, looking towards the palace.


    Most of the servants, confused and annoyed, had lingered outside the gates for a while before deciding to take advantage of their unexpected time off work. The guards, who in Ir¨ªm¨¦''s opinion had even less common sense than Abihira and made the reanimated mouse look intelligent, were hopelessly baffled at the situation and went to consult with the higher-ranked guards at the Silver Palace. None of them had come back yet. Perhaps they''d decided the best place to have the consultation was at their favourite bar. Now there were only Siarvin, Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Shizuki still waiting.


    They couldn''t see anything happening in the palace grounds but they could hear some very alarming noises. Screaming, roaring, and now -- most frightening of all -- dead silence.


    "I don''t know," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said in answer to Shizuki. To Siarvin he said, "Should we go and see?"


    Siarvin looked at him as if he''d suggested jumping into shark-infested waters. "You can do what you like, but I''m staying out here until Abihira or Ilaran tells me it''s safe."


    <hr>


    Abi waited. And waited. And waited. Ilaran still didn''t come back. Eventually her patience ran out. She got up and slowly, painfully made her way out of the main hall. Once she was outside it was easier. All she had to do was spread her wings, flap them once, and nearly have a panic attack when she rocketed up to be on a level with the roof.


    Funny. When inside the palace and in danger of death she''d had no problem flying. Now she had plenty of room, was perfectly safe -- from zombies at any rate -- and felt like she was about to fall and break her neck at any minute.


    With considerable difficulty and several near-collisions with the palace walls Abi finally got the hang of flying. She flew over the roof and round the corner to land outside Ilaran''s door. Landing was as much of a challenge as flying. She foolishly stopped flapping her wings and held them out straight, assuming she would glide down to the ground.


    She didn''t glide. She fell.


    "Owwwww!"


    Congratulations, part of her mind whispered snidely. Now you have a twisted ankle, a banged elbow, and a bruise on your face as well as the injuries you already had. Great job!


    Abi ignored it. She got up, wincing as she put weight on her sore right ankle and her cut left leg. Forget seeing a doctor; at this rate she''d have to check herself into a hospital.


    Nothing could have prepared her for the state of the building once she got inside. It looked like a herd of tiadurth[2] had rampaged through it. The wallpaper was clawed off the walls, the door was smashed, the furniture was battered at best and a pile of splinters at worst.


    She stepped around a destroyed coat-stand and looked into the sitting room. Ilaran wasn''t there. She went to the other side of the hallway and checked his bedroom.


    At first she didn''t see him. She knew he was there only because she could hear very faint sobbing coming from somewhere in the room.


    "Ilaran?" she asked, pushing the door open more fully. It almost fell off its hinges when she touched it.


    No answer. Abi peered into the darkened room for several minutes. She had to kneel down and look under the furniture before she finally spotted Ilaran. He was curled up under the bed, of all places.


    "What are you doing?" she asked.


    He uncurled just long enough to glare at her. His eyes shone in the dark like a cat''s. The sight unnerved Abi. She''d never seen his eyes do that before.


    "I''m having a mental breakdown. What does it look like?"


    ...Right. Well. The events of the last day would take a toll on anyone''s sanity. Abi felt rather like hiding somewhere and crying too.


    The sewing kit was sitting on the bedside table. Abi snatched it and hobbled out, feeling very uncomfortable. She should probably do something to help Ilaran, but what? She wasn''t a psychiatrist.


    She sat down in the sitting room -- on the floor, since there was a good chance her wings might accidentally set a chair on fire -- and sewed up her trouser leg. By the time she finished that her ankle had stopped hurting. Ilaran still hadn''t come out of his room.


    Maybe Siarvin would know what to do about Ilaran. Time to fetch him and Ir¨ªm¨¦, then.


    <hr>


    "Let me get this straight. She saw a dug-up grave and thinks there''s a grave-robber on the loose?"


    Ordinarily Kitri would have thought this was a minor problem for the local constable to deal with. Ever since the fiasco of the walking corpses she''d become very alarmed by any hint of unusual goings-on in graveyards. When she got home and heard someone had reported a suspected grave-robber she decided to investigate herself.


    It didn''t really sound too bad at first. A farmer on her way home had seen a grave with a shovel lying beside it. She looked closer and realised the grave had been dug up and then filled in again. The constable scoffed at the idea of a grave-robber. That particular grave belonged to someone who had died over twenty years ago. All that would be left by this time was a skeleton, and grave-robbers preferred to harvest organs from the bodies of the recently-dead. Probably it was just the caretaker digging up some weeds.


    There was only one thing that warned Kitri this was more serious than it sounded. The grave was in the graveyard Abi had raised on that memorable market-day.


    "Have you opened the coffin?" she asked the constable.


    He shook his head. "It''d be a waste of time."


    "I''m not so sure. Get a shovel. We''re going to check that grave."

 Chapter XIII: The Phoenix

    I am the "who" when you call "Who''s there?"


    I am the wind blowing through your hair


    -- The Nightmare Before Christmas, This is Halloween


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ stared at Abi. Siarvin stared at Abi. Shizuki was behind him so Ir¨ªm¨¦ couldn''t see, but he was sure he was staring at Abi too.


    "What?" she asked defensively. She straightened up to her full height. Maybe she thought that would hide her wings. It only made them even more conspicuous.


    Years ago Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ had discussed what a phoenix might look like. None of the storybooks could agree on their colour or size. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had thought they would be bright red while Abi thought they were more likely orange or golden. It turned out both of them were wrong. Apparently phoenixes were a mixture of very vivid blue and dark green. If he hadn''t known better he would have assumed Abi had somehow gained a peacock''s wings. Oh, and they were on fire too. Abi didn''t seem too perturbed by this fact. Otherwise Ir¨ªm¨¦ would have run for a bucket of water.


    "What happened?" Siarvin asked, rubbing his eyes. "Is Ilaran safe?"


    Abi nodded. "It''s a long story. He''s back to normal and hiding under his bed. I think you''d better go and check him."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ did a double take. Hiding under his bed? That doesn''t sound like Ilaran.


    Siarvin hurried into the palace grounds and disappeared around the corner. Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Shizuki were left still staring at Abi. Shizuki ventured forwards. He sidled up to Abi and tried to poke at her wing. She moved away quickly.


    "Don''t do that," she warned him. "You could get burnt."


    Shizuki pouted. "But you aren''t burnt."


    "What exactly happened in there?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked. "How did you--" He gestured to her wings. "And why are you only half-transformed?"


    Abi shrugged. Now that he looked closely Ir¨ªm¨¦ was alarmed to see she looked utterly exhausted, had a bruise on her face, and-- was that blood staining her shoe and trouser leg?


    "It''s a very long story," she said. "But first I need to see a doctor."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked at the blood again. Part of him wanted to give in to panic. He''d never had to deal with any serious injuries before. The other part insisted on looking at the situation logically. "I think you''d better get rid of your wings first. You''ll draw too much attention."


    Shizuki had spent the last several minutes gazing at Abi''s wings with the fascinated intentness of a cat watching a mouse. Now his head snapped round. "Why does she have to get rid of them? They''re pretty." He gazed pleadingly up at Abi. "You can fly! You flew!"


    Oh no, Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought. I know where this is going.


    "Yes," Abi said, bemused.


    "Take me flying!"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ face-palmed. I knew it.


    Abi shook her head. "That wouldn''t be a good idea. My wings... Well, they tend to burn everything they touch."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ took a step back even though he wasn''t close enough to be in danger. "Then get rid of them quickly!"


    "I can''t. I don''t know how and I need them to help me walk."


    <hr>


    Like Abihira several minutes earlier Siarvin was taken aback by the state of the hallway. He shuddered as he realised once again how terribly close he''d come to being killed. The thing possessing Ilaran could have torn him apart as easily as it tore the door apart.


    How badly was Ilaran injured? No one could have come out unscathed after throwing themselves against a door repeatedly, to say nothing of all the rest of the destruction.


    Years and years ago, before everything went to hell and before he even knew of Haliran''s existence, Siarvin had visited Aderthril for the first and only time since her marriage. Her pathetic excuse for a husband was away -- "off with one of his whores," Aderthril had said bitterly -- and her son had disappeared. They searched the whole castle for Ilaran -- or Rait¨¢len, as he''d been then. At last Siarvin thought of checking the guest rooms. He opened a door and heard the tell-tale scuffling sound of someone drawing back further into their hiding place. When he knelt down he found a small boy curled into a ball under the bed.


    It had been millennia since Siarvin thought of that incident. He remembered how Aderthril had been forced to coax Rait¨¢len out with cake, and how it turned out he was hiding to get out of geography lessons.


    Stepping into Ilaran''s room felt eerily like a re-enactment of that incident such a very long time ago. Ilaran had been younger then than Shizuki was now, Siarvin remembered. When he knelt down beside the bed he almost expected to see Ilaran as a little boy again. It was almost disorientating to see him as an adult.


    "What''s wrong?" Siarvin asked quietly.


    Ilaran raised his head. In the darkness under the bed it was impossible to tell what his expression was, but Siarvin was almost certain he was crying.


    "I can''t tell you," Ilaran said in a very quiet, almost choked voice. "I don''t want to think about it."


    Siarvin was too old to crawl under furniture now. So he settled for the next best thing. "Come here, Rait¨¢len."


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    It had been millennia since he last used Ilaran''s kelros-name. In fact it had probably been millennia since anyone had used it. The only people who had that right were Ilaran''s parents, both long dead, and older relatives who were either dead or barely aware of his existence. Ilaran started at the use of that name. Then, very slowly, he crawled out of his hiding place.


    He looked awful. There were bruises all over his face, his hands were bleeding, and there was dried blood all around his mouth. A small part of Siarvin''s mind had a panic attack over whose blood that might be and what it meant. He firmly ignored that part. Now was not the time. Not when Ilaran looked even worse than he had when he was literally dead.


    Siarvin had never had much experience with comforting people after traumatic events. He made an educated guess based on normal people''s interactions and came to the conclusion hugging Ilaran might help, and at any rate was unlikely to make things worse.


    Ilaran stiffened when Siarvin first hugged him. For a minute Siarvin worried he''d made a mistake and was actually making things worse. Then Ilaran flung his arms around him and hugged him back -- a little too tightly, but no worse than when Shizuki gave hugs in his snake form.


    <hr>


    It turned out that Abi''s wings were not really much help outside the palace grounds. There were too many trees overhanging the path. When she flapped her wings they brushed against the leaves, which immediately went up in flames. It took a lot of panicking and hitting the leaves with Ir¨ªm¨¦''s coat to put them out. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had never had so many near-heart-attacks in such a short time before.


    "This is hopeless," he said after the fifth time Abi nearly set a tree on fire. "You''ll have to change back. We can help you walk."


    It took the combined efforts of Shizuki and Ir¨ªm¨¦ to teach her how to get rid of her wings. Her first attempt went badly wrong. So badly, in fact, that she now had feathers growing out of her face.


    Shizuki burst out laughing. Ir¨ªm¨¦ hid a grin behind his hand. If only he had a camera!


    "What?" Abi asked, looking offended. "What went wrong?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ forced his smile off his face. "Never mind. Try again?"


    Her second attempt was even worse than her first. Now she had a beak, and feathers covered her neck and arms.


    "I think you''re going in the wrong direction," Irim¨¦ said. "You''re turning more and more into a phoenix instead of the other way round."


    Abi glared at him. She couldn''t speak clearly now, but she did her best. "Listen. I''ve--" Her voice became indistinct, "--terrible day already and--" Indistinct again, "--no help--" The next part was downright incomprehensible, "--fix it!"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ pieced together what he could understand of that and guessed at the meaning of everything else. "We''re trying to help. It''s alright, I didn''t get it right the first time either."


    <hr>


    Abi was just about at the end of her rope. Her leg was aching, her face was sore, the scratches on her hands were stinging, and now she was forced to rely on her friends'' very unhelpful advice while turning more and more into a phoenix against her own will. On its own that situation would have been thoroughly unpleasant. Now, when it came on the heels of seeing her sort-of friend get possessed, nearly getting killed by him, and witnessing him kill someone else... Well, Abi was at the point where exhaustion and stress turned to anger, and the angrier she became the more her control over her magic slipped.


    "Try again," Shizuki said once he stopped laughing.


    She tried. At once something went wrong. It was as if she''d been keeping a tight hold on her magic without even knowing it. Suddenly her hold slipped. Her eyes widened.


    Oh no, she thought.


    Then the world disappeared in a blaze of red and orange. Someone screamed in the distance. They seemed to be very far below her. Within seconds their voice faded away. She could hear nothing but the wind whistling past her ears. There seemed to be nothing under her feet. Did she even have feet any more? It felt like she was floating somewhere.


    Abi opened her eyes. The ground was far below her. She was above the tallest trees, above the palaces, even above the Silver Palace''s watch-tower. From here she could see the entire city and beyond. All the buildings were so small they looked like dolls'' houses. The sea sparkled in the distance. A cloud drifted overhead. There was no noise except the wind and nothing near her except a crow flying beneath her. It gave her a bemused look then veered off in a different direction.


    Once the surprise wore off Abi realised she should probably be afraid. But the fear didn''t come. She had never flown before in her life but somehow she knew exactly what to do. She swooped down towards the ground. It zoomed up to meet her. Two small dots appeared. They grew gradually larger and larger until she could make out Shizuki and Ir¨ªm¨¦. Both of them gawked at her as if they''d never seen someone turn into a bird before.


    Abi landed on the ground where she''d stood a minute ago. To her own surprise she noticed the ground was not burnt this time. It took astonishingly little effort to follow the instructions Shizuki and Ir¨ªm¨¦ had given her earlier. Within minutes she was back in her immortal form.


    The pain of her injuries struck her with the force of a freight train. Her anger and exhaustion had disappeared but now they came rushing back. To her own horror she found herself dissolving into tears, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.


    <hr>


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ had seen so many strange things lately that Abi fully turning into a phoenix was barely even surprising. When she landed in front of him the main thing he noticed was that only her wings were blue and green. Her body was a mixture of purple and white, her head was orange, the crest of top of her head was golden, and her tail -- a very long train like a peacock''s, covered with flames that made it hard to tell where the feathers ended and the fire began -- was blood red. A more chaotic collection of colours could hardly be imagined. No wonder none of the books gave descriptions of what phoenixes looked like.


    He was mildly surprised when she turned back into an immortal. And then he was just shocked, because she burst into tears for no apparent reason.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ gawked at her for a minute before his mind caught up with what was happening. He picked up his coat -- rather singed from beating out all those fires -- and draped it over her shoulders.


    "What happened?" he asked, alarmed. Was it painful to turn into a phoenix? Had the fire burned her?


    Abi shrugged and continued crying. Shizuki turned into his snake form and slithered over to her. He coiled himself around her neck like a scarf. Abi wrapped her arms around him as if he was a pillow and cried into his scales. Ir¨ªm¨¦ awkwardly patted her shoulder. She partly let go of Shizuki to wrap an arm around his waist and pull him down beside her.


    If any passers-by had come along they would have been thoroughly confused by the sight of the world''s strangest group hug.


    Naturally Koyuki picked that exact moment to come on the scene.


    <hr>


    Kitri and the constable set to work on the grave. Within ten minutes they''d dug down to the coffin. Kitri knelt down in the grave and opened the lid. Both of them gasped.


    The coffin was empty.


    "What do grave-robbers want with a skeleton?" the constable wondered aloud.


    Kitri looked around at the other graves. She noticed several that looked like they''d been disturbed recently. A very unpleasant suspicion began to take root.


    "Quickly. Help me dig up those graves over there."


    It was late afternoon. By the time they opened the other coffins it was almost sunset.


    All of the coffins were empty. In the distance there was a faint cracking sound. Kitri looked in several directions before finally realising it was coming from the shrine in the graveyard. She approached it warily, holding her shovel in front of her as a makeshift weapon.


    She got close enough to look inside and almost dropped the shovel.


    There was a pile of skeletons inside the shrine.


    The sun set. One of the skeletons began to move.

 Chapter XIV: Skeletons in the Closet

    You don''t have to test everything to destruction just to see if you made it right. -- Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman, Good Omens


    The constable came huffing and puffing over to the shrine. "What is it now?" His eyes bugged out. "Gods! What are they all doing in here?"


    Kitri was about to answer when she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. Her head snapped round. She stared very hard at the pile of skeletons. None of them moved so much as a finger. Their empty eye-sockets all seemed to be looking directly at her. Their bare teeth made it look like they were grinning malevolently.


    "I think the grave-robber left them here to collect later," she said. That explanation was unsatisfactory, but it was less insane that her suspicion the skeletons had moved themselves here. Again she thought she saw movement. "Quickly, help me put them back in their graves."


    The constable blinked and scratched his head. "But, ma''am, why bother? They''re doing no harm here. We can send for a team to move them in the morning."


    A faint rustling noise came from a corner of the shrine. The sun''s last rays were already fading from the sky. Was the wind normally so cold? Kitri suppressed a shudder. In the vanishing light she could see just enough to make out the candles placed on small shelves around the shrine. Those were supposed to be lit only during funerals. The priestesses of Lashk¨® lit them to represent the deceased person''s life then extinguished them to represent their death. No one else was allowed to touch them.


    There were no priestesses around to object, and it was too dark to stay here without any light. Kitri reached for the nearest shelf. She fumbled for the matchbox.


    What was that noise? It couldn''t be the constable. He was still behind her, grumbling about how cold his hands were. She heard the faintest scrape of something moving on the stone floor.


    Why won''t the match light?


    In the dark and cold it was hard to strike it against the matchbox. Finally she succeed. The tiny flame gave barely any light yet it seemed to make the night even darker. Kitri held it against the candle''s wick. For a chilling moment the candle refused to light. At last the flame caught. It filled the shrine with a faint but warm light that almost drove away Kitri''s fears.


    Then she saw what the light revealed and her fears came rushing back tenfold.


    The skeletons were moving.


    All of them recoiled from the candle-light, shrinking deeper and deeper into the shrine. They crowded in the shadows around the altar. Kitri remembered the skeletons Abi had raised. None of them had acted like this. They''d been brainless but harmless, and the light hadn''t bothered any of them.


    "Did you see that?" The constable''s voice was a high-pitched squeak. "Did you see? They''re moving!"


    "I see it," Kitri said grimly. She raised her shovel. "See that statue there?" The statue was a small moveable carving of Lashk¨®, goddess of death, with all seven of her faces. "Pick it up and help me destroy these things."


    She lit the other candles around the door. The light made the skeletons try to shrink back further. Unfortunately for them there was nowhere left for them to go. They made an attempt to skitter out of the way as Kitri brought the shovel crashing down. Not all of them were lucky enough to evade her. The shovel smashed through four skulls. Those skeletons immediately collapsed motionless on the floor.


    "Destroy their skulls," Kitri ordered. She raised the shovel for another strike.


    The constable was having some difficulty picking up the statue. He cursed under his breath as he struggled with it. By the time he got it moved, Kitri had already killed -- well, as much as these things could be killed -- another twelve of the skeletons.


    "Ow!"


    Her head snapped round. The constable was hopping on one leg and clutching his ankle.


    "Bloody thing bit me," he complained, glaring at one of the skeletons. He hit its skull with the statue.


    All things considered it was astonishingly easy to destroy the skeletons. Apart from the one that bit the constable, none of them tried to fight back. In that way at least they were as stupid as Abi''s creations. Within an hour all of their skulls had been crushed.


    Kitri said, "We''ll have to check the rest of the graves in the morning." Mentally she added, And I''ll have to tell Abi.


    It was too much of a coincidence to think this had nothing to do with her necromancy.


    <hr>


    Once it began to rain in Gengxin the rain tended to last for days. Combine the terrible weather with how Mirio couldn''t visit any of his cousins even if he wanted to, and he ended up spending most of his time indoors. News from the rest of the palace came every day. It was never encouraging. The Fifth Prince was near death. The Second Princess had taken ill too. Still there were no reports of anyone else catching the disease.


    With how many of his cousins were sick, it would soon be easy to deduce who had cast the curse just by seeing who was left unharmed. That thought niggled at Mirio endlessly. His cousins weren''t exactly geniuses, but surely even they would know cursing their siblings would only raise questions about their continued good health. Was Lian wrong? Was it not a curse after all?


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    Or, even more alarming, was it a curse cast by someone else entirely?


    If it was one of his cousins there was an obvious motive: to get rid of the competition for the throne. Add in other suspects and the motives became much less obvious. What would an outsider have to gain from killing off most of the royal family? Revenge, personal dislike, or simply making it easier to stage a coup were all potential options. The more Mirio thought about it the more possibilities he came up with. At this rate the entire kingdom would become suspects.


    In an effort to find something else to do he took it upon himself to teach Zi Yao how to play noyo[1]. After the first two games Zi Yao got the hang of it and won every time, to the amusement of Lian and Lady Yuan. Mirio continued to play even when he kept losing spectacularly. It kept Zi Yao happy and it passed the time, so what did it matter that he was losing to a child?


    At least he had one consolation. Lian was even worse at the game than Mirio was. No one who witnessed it would ever forget his bewildered expression when he lost a game before he had the chance to move a single piece.


    When not playing with Zi Yao or making polite conversation with Lady Yuan, Mirio began to think more and more about Lian. All sorts of little things he''d overlooked were now popping up. None of them were sinister in and of themselves, but they were certainly odd.


    Lian had very expensive clothes, and apparently had almost bankrupted himself buying them. He had so little money right now that he had to save up just to buy sweets for Zi Yao. Lian never sent or received any letters. As far as anyone knew he had no friends outside the palace. Yet every week he had a day off and disappeared for the entire day -- unless Zi Yao''s health had taken a sudden turn for the worse. No one knew where he went on those days. Lian spoke multiple languages, could draw Saoridhin calligraphy of the Biarorth style, but claimed his family were only shopkeepers.


    That claim would have fooled anyone except Mirio. Unfortunately for Lian, Mirio had a Saoridhian foster sister and had witnessed the debates between his parents and hers on how to ensure her education covered everything taught in Saoridhl¨¦m as well as everything taught in Seroyawa. He knew more about Saoridhin calligraphy than he knew what to do with. There were at least twenty different styles of calligraphy, all taught with different methods, with rules about who used which style. A shopkeeper''s family would have learnt -- assuming his memory wasn''t playing tricks on him -- either the Ondern or Aivranto styles. The Biarorth style was taught only to aristocrats and royals. Mirio remembered Abi''s grumbles about how complicated it was too well to forget what it looked like.


    Lian kept a diary which he made no attempt to hide. He wrote entries while the servants were right there. He even wrote in it when Mirio was beside him, and he knew Mirio understood Saoridhin. It was easy to assume that meant he had nothing incriminating in it. Mirio wasn''t so sure. He caught a glimpse of the pages on several different occasions. It was written in the Saoridhin alphabet, yes, but the language wasn''t Saoridhin.


    Take today''s entry for example. Lian wrote it sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Mirio''s chair. Mirio read the writing over Lian''s shoulder while pretending to be absorbed in his own book.


    Its first sentence read, Rophledok dosde''v loddosk w''dr idrosk di r''xo e levriero e kiso gevdeky-oktio kiivk.


    Not one word of that was even close to Saoridhin. Nor was it any other language Mirio knew. He considered Kazincgish, Nabevskan, Lagoeulian, Qytanth and Uvnoir, all without success.


    Lian continued writing gibberish. Mirio watched for a while before he decided to risk asking about it.


    "What language is that?" He tried to make the question sound as careless as possible.


    If Lian was surprised he didn''t show it. "It''s not a language. It''s a code my siblings and I invented."


    Well, that wasn''t really suspicious or unusual. Seitomu and Azarin had invented a code of their own when they were younger, and it was perfectly normal for someone to want their diary to be private. Yet in spite of his attempts to explain it Mirio still felt there was something strange about it.


    Where did you learn that style of calligraphy? he wanted to ask. But he had an unpleasant feeling that question would open a can of worms better left undisturbed.


    Lian couldn''t possibly be an aristocrat. None of them would have been caught dead working as a servant in a foreign country. Mirio didn''t know enough about Saoridhin accents to distinguish between them, but Abi had a very upper-class accent when she spoke her native language and Lian sounded nothing like her. Not to mention the way he was currently leaning against the wall. Deportment teachers would have a heart attack at such poor posture.


    No, there was probably a very good explanation for Lian''s oddities.


    So why did Mirio feel like he had stumbled upon something sinister?


    <hr>


    Coming to Gengxin had been a mistake. It had caused more problems than the ones he''d come here to escape. Years ago Vieraneth -- or Riyeira, or Lian, or whatever his name currently was; he''d had so many identities not even he could keep track of them all -- had learnt there were only two sorts of people. Those who were useful and those who weren''t. Zi Yao had changed that. He should have only been useful in the sense he gave Vieraneth a job. He should have been a temporary nuisance at most. Forgettable. Disposable.


    But he wasn''t. The first time Vieraneth had seen him in one of his fits, Zi Yao had reached out to him for help. Not to his servants, not to the other doctor, him. There were three certainties in Vieraneth''s life. The sun rose and set, the tide went out and came in, and no one ever chose him when they could chose someone else instead. No one except Zi Yao.


    And now, no one except Zi Yao and Mirio.


    Zi Yao liked Lian, admired him, considered him a friend. Mirio was patient with, even friendly towards Zi Yao and made a point of talking to Lian. Mirio paid enough attention to him -- and knew enough about Saoridhl¨¦m -- to notice there were inconsistencies in his cover story. Most people didn''t even acknowledge his existence long enough to hear his cover story.


    For the first time in millennia Lian had a reason to want to stay somewhere and a person he wanted to protect. And thanks to someone else''s stupidity the whole thing was in danger.


    Let Gengxin''s entire royal family kill themselves if they wanted to, just as long as they didn''t harm Zi Yao. But if this curse continued then sooner or later they were going to harm Zi Yao. And that was simply unacceptable.


    Mirio apparently had not taken the bait when Lian told him about the curse. Maybe he should tell him everything. If he did, maybe Mirio would help him find its caster. Maybe they would join forces to protect Zi Yao.


    Or maybe Mirio would recoil from him in horror like everyone else he''d told. Lian hadn''t cared what they thought. Now he found he cared a great deal what Mirio thought. For the first time he had someone he considered a friend, and he didn''t want to lose him.


    As he scribbled in his diary a plan took shape in Lian''s mind. Mirio was clever. He''d already become curious, possibly even suspicious. Why not leave more clues for him? Let him piece them together on his own. If he did, if he figured out most of the truth without being told, then Lian could see how he reacted before confirming it.


    It was time to frighten the curse''s caster anyway.

 Chapter XV: Rise and Fall

    I navigate the endless rise and fall


    You push my back against the wall


    When I attack I''m taking all


    -- Starset, Rise and Fall


    Once again the gong rang out in the middle of the night. This time Mirio knew exactly what it meant. The Fifth Prince was dead. He lay awake and stared up at the ceiling while chaos reigned outside.


    I must stop this, he thought. It was a pointless thought when he didn''t know where to start.


    Over the noise of a hundred people wailing he heard the faint click of a door being closed just outside his room. Soundlessly he climbed out of bed and poked a small hole in the paper door. When it was just large enough to see through he peered out. He was just in time to see a figure open the door out to the courtyard.


    He couldn''t see their face from this angle. Whoever they were, they were dressed in white sleeping clothes and had their hair loose. Probably one of the servants going to see if they could help. Then they turned their head just enough for Mirio to see the side of their face.


    It was Lian. He stood in the doorway for a long time. Mirio noticed with a start that he was unnaturally still. He didn''t even seem to be breathing. There was a strange look on his face. In the contrast between the darkness of the house and the light of the torches outside it was hard to tell for sure, but it looked like he was annoyed.


    What an odd reaction to a death, Mirio thought.


    True, the Fifth Prince had never done anything to be greatly mourned. He had never done much of anything, in fact. But annoyance didn''t seem like the proper response.


    Lian moved so abruptly that an average immortal''s eyes couldn''t have followed him. Even with a sea serpent''s better-than-average eyesight Mirio only saw a blur. Then he was gone. Mirio slid his door open and crept over to where Lian had been a minute ago. Now there was nothing to show anyone had been there at all. It had been raining for days, the garden was a morass and the path was waterlogged, but there wasn''t a single footprint or a ripple in any of the puddles. Nor was there any sign of Lian anywhere.


    Maybe he flew, Mirio wondered.


    Was Lian a shapeshifter? He had never said one way or the other.


    By now the noise had awoken Zi Yao. He began to sob loudly. That disturbed his mother and the servants. Within a few minutes the palace was full of light and noise as everyone tried to calm him down. Mirio went back into his room, put on a dressing gown, and went to see if he could help.


    <hr>


    All of the noise and activity centred around the Fifth Prince''s Manor. So that was exactly where Lian was not going to go. Instead he made the rounds of all the other palaces. He checked on all of the king''s other children. None of them were overcome by grief at their brother''s death, but none of them were openly celebrating it either. The Third Princess was the most emotional of any of them.


    "It''s sickening," she complained to her maid. "At this rate I''ll never be out of mourning."


    Lian moved on without wasting any more time listening to her. He put her down on his list of "probably not guilty". The trouble was that by the time he returned to the Ninth Prince''s Manor, all of the princes and princesses were on that list. He''d spent ages running around in the cold and wet, dodging guards and servants, eavesdropping in very uncomfortable places -- who knew a rooftop could be so cold? -- and he had nothing to show for it.


    <hr>


    In the course of his job the constable had received many minor scrapes. This wasn''t even the first time he''d been bitten. He checked the injury before leaving the shrine. The bite had broken the skin, but only just. A small plaster would deal with that while it healed.


    He went home, rinsed the wound, put the plaster on, and went to bed reflecting on the shocking turn today had taken. Perhaps it was because of the frights he endured, but he found it difficult to get to sleep. After tossing and turning for a while he began to feel hungry. So he got up and went down to the kitchen for a late-night snack.


    <hr>


    For the past three thousand years the constable had hired local youngsters to clean his house after breakfast. It earned them money, gave them something to do, and spared him from having to do the housework, so it was a very convenient arrangement for everyone. His current housekeepers were three siblings who stopped by on their way to school. As soon as they drew knew the house they sensed there was something wrong.


    Rioghaen, the oldest, shielded her eyes with her hand as she stared at the house. "Weird. The curtains are still drawn."


    Chaebioth, the middle sibling and the only boy, shrugged dismissively. "He probably left in a hurry."


    Fennijan, the youngest, shook her head emphatically. "Look! His bike''s still outside the door. He hasn''t left yet."


    This was something new. Normally the constable woke up at around ten, had his breakfast, and cycled off to the district police station at around eleven. When the children arrived at half-past eleven they would find the door locked but the key under the doormat, the curtains open, and the dishes from breakfast and the previous day''s meals in the sink.


    All three of them exchanged puzzled looks.


    "Maybe he''s sick," Fennijan suggested.


    They went up to the house. The door was unlocked. Rioghaen gestured for her siblings to stay behind as she stepped inside. It took her eyes a minute to adjust to the darkened hallway. She pulled open the curtains and let the light flood in. Then she saw the state of the place. She gasped.


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    It looked like a burglar had broken in and ransacked the whole house. Furniture was overturned and smashed, pictures hung askew on the walls, and there were marks on the floor that suggested a dog had clawed at it.


    The kitchen door was ajar. She poked her head in. More chaos awaited her. The fridge doors were wide open. So was the pantry door. Both fridge and pantry were stripped bare. Yesterday they had both been full. Pieces of food littered the floor. It looked as if a starving mob had descended on the place.


    Muirus 9436[1], being a planet at a considerable distance from Vanerth, had its own folklore that had very little in common with Saoridhl¨¦m''s even though the original settlers were from Saoridhl¨¦m. But both planets had stories about the ghosts of people who starved to death. Saoridhl¨¦m called them shaberos. Seroyawa called them tenewa. Muirus 9436 called them lonijed. All three places agreed they were eternally hungry and would eat everything in their path -- including people. Rioghaen thought of those stories. She paled.


    It was time to get out of here.


    She turned to flee. Her foot slipped on the spilt food. With a crash she fell against the table.


    Heavy footsteps crossed the landing and hurried down the stairs. Rioghaen jumped up, just in time to see something lunge at her.


    Her screams echoed through the house. Then they stopped.


    <hr>


    Through the hall window her siblings watched in dazed horror as the constable tore out their sister''s throat with his teeth. Chaebioth started forwards. Fennijan grabbed his collar and pulled him back.


    "We''ve got to get out of here," she hissed, dragging him towards the road.


    "But we have to help!" he protested.


    The constable was now eating Rioghaen''s face. She had gone still earlier but now she began to thrash again. Chaebioth tried to run to help her. Fennijan tightened her hold and continued dragging him away.


    "We can''t help! We have to warn everyone!"


    They got as far as the gate before the constable caught up with them.


    <hr>


    "Let me get this straight. Ilaran turned into a monster, Abihira turned into a phoenix, and now Ilaran is back to normal. Is that right?"


    Koyuki looked justifiably confused. Ir¨ªm¨¦ could sympathise. He was confused too, and unlike Koyuki he hadn''t come on the scene after everything was over.


    "More or less," Abi said.


    She winced when she tried to stand. Ir¨ªm¨¦ helped her up while Shizuki slithered to the ground and turned back into a boy.


    "You should have seen the phoenix!" he told his father excitedly. "It''s so bright! And glittery! And lots of pretty colours!" He looked hopefully at Abi. "Turn into it again?"


    Abi shook her head. "Certainly not. I''ve had enough excitement for one day."


    <hr>


    All four of them made their way to Ilaran''s rooms. Abi was limping so badly now that she had to lean on Ir¨ªm¨¦ for support. There was a chorus of shocked exclamations when they saw the state of the house.


    "What happened here?" Koyuki asked.


    "The monster," Abi said shortly. She''d spoken less and less lately. Her face was completely drained of colour and her hold on Ir¨ªm¨¦''s shoulder was almost painful.


    Siarvin appeared in the bedroom doorway as they entered the house. "Shhh," he whispered. "Ilaran''s asleep. Don''t wake him."


    "Is he alright?" Abi asked as Ir¨ªm¨¦ helped her into the sitting room.


    "Physically? Yes. Mentally? That''s another matter. I think he''ll have a few choice words to say to you when he wakes up."


    Abi winced. She practically collapsed into an armchair. For several minutes she stared up at the ceiling. At last she said, "I''ve made an awful mess of things."


    Siarvin snorted. "Talk about an understatement. I hope you haven''t gotten anyone else possessed."


    "No," Abi said quietly. "But I got someone killed."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ almost fell out of his chair. "You what?"


    <hr>


    "I hear there''s something strange happening at Gihimayel Palace," Ninuath remarked.


    Raiv¨ªth hummed noncommittally. She studied the board in front of her as she contemplated her next move. At last she decided on what to do. She moved the piece to the selected space. Then she had time to think of what her husband had just said.


    "Gihimayel Palace? Again? It''s not another dragon, is it?"


    Ninuath shrugged as he moved his piece. "I don''t know exactly what happened, but everyone was told to leave. Ever since Prince Ilaran arrived strange things have happened over there. I think it''s time we encouraged him to leave."


    "It''s not just Prince Ilaran," Raiv¨ªth said. "It''s Abihira too. She''s barely been home two months and she''s already thrown the place into chaos. I''d arrange for her to make a diplomatic visit to Tananerl when Ilaran goes home, but honestly I''m afraid of what trouble she might cause there."


    "We need to send someone to Gengxin for the funerals," Ninuath said.


    Raiv¨ªth frowned. There was something exceedingly odd about the sudden number of funerals the Gengxin royal family had to hold. "Her foster brother is in Gengxin, isn''t he? I hear he was a restraining influence on her in Seroyawa. A very sensible young man by all accounts. If we do send Abihira to Gengxin, I can only hope he will still restrain her there."


    <hr>


    When Mirio awoke the next morning he could almost think last night had been a dream. The Fifth Prince wasn''t dead and he hadn''t seen Lian go out in the rain wearing only his nightclothes.


    The palace was eerily quiet, yet it wasn''t completely silent. In the background he could hear the faint noise of someone sobbing. Odd. No one here had been close to the Fifth Prince. Mirio felt slightly bad for his cousin. They had barely known each other, but it was unpleasant to know how few people mourned him.


    He got up, got dressed, and had breakfast. Still the palace remained quiet. He felt a faint flicker of unease. After breakfast he opened his door. One of Zi Yao''s eunuchs was waiting just outside.


    "Your Highness, Lady Yuan requests your presence."


    Mirio raised an eyebrow. If Lady Yuan wanted to talk to him she just spoke to him when they were both out in the garden. She''d never felt the need to summon him like this before.


    He followed the eunuch. They didn''t go to the palace''s formal reception hall. Instead they went to Zi Yao''s bedroom. His unease grew stronger as the sobbing grew louder. When the eunuch showed him into the room he found it was crowded. The servants stood silently around the walls. Lady Yuan knelt beside Zi Yao''s bed. She was the one crying. Lian leaned over Zi Yao, holding his wrist.


    For one terrifying minute Mirio thought Zi Yao was dead too. Then his cousin moved and gave a pained whimper.


    "Hurts," he whispered.


    Lian brushed his hand over Zi Yao''s forehead. He murmured something reassuring. As soon as Zi Yao closed his eyes Lian''s expression became grim.


    He let go of Lian''s wrist. To Lady Yuan he said, "It''s the plague."


    <hr>


    Zi Yao was asleep now. His face was very red and he tossed and turned a lot. One of his servants kept a cool cloth pressed against his forehead, dipping it in cold water every few minutes.


    Lian had been silent ever since giving the diagnosis. Mirio brought him back to his own room and got a servant to make tea for them both.


    "Do you still think it''s a curse?" he asked.


    Lian nodded grimly. "No other explanation makes sense."


    He drank his tea with the air of someone who wished it was a much stronger drink. They sat in silence for a while. At last Lian spoke again.


    "Zi Yao is... He''s like a son to me. I won''t let him die. And when I get my hands on whoever''s responsible for this, I will destroy them."


    The absolute certainty in his voice left Mirio in no doubt he would do exactly what he said no matter what it took.


    He thought of Zi Yao''s excitement at the gift. He thought of Zi Yao running around happily and handing him a frog. Then he thought of Zi Yao lying in bed, feverish and in pain.


    Mirio looked Lian dead in the eye. "I''ll help."

 Chapter XVI: Cured

    Knives in the backs of martyrs


    Lives in the burning fodder


    Cauterised and atrophied


    This is my unbecoming


    -- Starset, Unbecoming


    For the second time in as many months Abi found herself having to face her grandmother and confess to wrongdoing. This time was much more serious than the last. Then she''d only had to admit to necromancy. Now she had to admit to getting someone possessed and getting someone else killed.


    She left out the part about Ilaran dying and her bringing him back to life. That would raise too many questions she didn''t want to answer. In fact she left Ilaran out of it completely. Instead she gave the impression that this incident was connected to the corpse that had invaded the festival. Her grandmother listened with the look that warned there would be hell to pay as soon as Abi was finished.


    "I hope you''re proud," Raiv¨ªth said at last. "In less than two months you''ve caused more chaos than all of your cousins put together. And what was this about the palace being burnt? Did you decide to engage in arson?"


    Abi winced. She''d skirted around that topic too because she just plain didn''t know how to explain it. "Well, you see... It turns out the priests were right after all. I am a phoenix."


    Raiv¨ªth buried her face in her hands. "So when you turned into one you almost burnt down the palace. I see."


    "It wasn''t as bad as that," Abi said, then remembered the unfortunate servant. "Er. I may have... I mean..." She steeled herself. "I accidentally got someone killed."


    Raiv¨ªth started to her feet so abruptly she knocked over the table in front of her. "What?" she roared.


    Abi shrank back. She did her best to make herself invisible. It didn''t work.


    Her grandmother glared at her as she righted the table. "Explain. Now."


    Haltingly and with difficulty she explained how she had run into the main palace, found the servant, and accidentally led the possessed Ilaran -- who she referred to only as "the corpse" to continue giving the impression it was the same one that had interrupted the festival -- there. She glossed over the fact the servant had also gotten possessed after being killed. Instead she made it sound like she had accidentally killed her while trying to drive off the parasite.


    When she finished her grandmother collapsed back into her chair. For a long time Raiv¨ªth didn''t say anything. Abi stayed silent too and wished for the floor to open and swallow her.


    "By your own admission you''ve performed dark magic and necromancy, experimented with things best left untouched, raised the dead, and are guilty of involuntary manslaughter at best. Do you think you can do anything you like without consequence?"


    Abi shook her head slowly. Once upon a time she had thought that. Now she knew exactly how wrong she''d been.


    "If you were anyone else I would exile you right now. Unfortunately that would cause a scandal. That must be avoided at all costs. I don''t want anyone else to learn about your crimes. So from now on you''re under house arrest. You will not take so much as one step outside your parents'' house until I decide what to do. Guards!"


    The sitting room door opened and two of the guards outside stepped in. Abi looked at them nervously to see if they''d heard anything of what was said. If they had they didn''t let it show on their faces. But then these were the Empress''s Personal Guards. Even if they overheard a member of the royal family confess to being a serial killer they wouldn''t show any outward reaction.


    Raiv¨ªth gestured sharply to Abi. "Escort the princess home."


    The guards silently followed Abi every step of the way home. They never said a word to her. Their silence and blank faces were infinitely worse than any visible show of anger or disgust.


    <hr>


    What is it about Hartanna''s children that makes them such nightmares? Raiv¨ªth wondered.


    Maybe it was inherited. Hartanna had been quite a nuisance herself as a youngster. At least her wrongdoings had been relatively minor. Her elopement was nothing compared to her youngest daughter''s necromancy. And even necromancy was nothing compared to what Imrahil had done.


    It had been years since Raiv¨ªth had thought of Hartanna''s second son. The memory of him walking into the Silver Palace, covered in blood and smiling, came back to her as vividly as if it had happened only yesterday. She shuddered.


    As far as outsiders knew Imrahil had drowned in an accident and his body had never been recovered. Abihira probably believed that too. She had been only a baby when it happened. In reality he''d been exiled and never heard of again. Hartanna believed he had died somewhere in exile. Raiv¨ªth wasn''t so sure.


    Immortals warped by dark magic did not die so easily.


    Now Abihira was meddling in dark magic too. If she wasn''t stopped she could end up like Imrahil. What could Raiv¨ªth do to stop her? Putting her on house arrest wouldn''t work for long. Sending her to Gengxin would work only because never in a million years would Abihira be sent alone and an older relative''s supervision would -- hopefully -- put paid to her necromancy. Exiling her to the country looked more and more like the only possible option. And if that didn''t work, she would have to be exiled permanently.


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    Hartanna''s intervention had been all that stopped Imrahil being executed. Opinions varied on whether exile was much kinder than execution in the end. Raiv¨ªth had her differences with her oldest daughter on many things, but she didn''t want to put Hartanna through a repeat of that miserable business.


    An idea struck her as she pondered this. There was someone who was both on fairly good terms with Abihira -- though how that had come about she still had no idea -- and who was unlikely to put up with any necromancy in his palace. Not to mention that Abihira''s fianc¨¦ was now working for him. Perhaps Prince Ilaran would be kind enough to offer her some job that would keep her out of trouble. If necessary Raiv¨ªth could arrange for Abihira to become a diplomat to Tananerl -- a position that was technically not needed and would have no real duties, but would come with a lot of paperwork. No one could practice necromancy when they were too busy signing documents all day long.


    Yes, that might just solve all of their problems. First Abihira would go to Gengxin under the strict supervision of a cousin or aunt, then she would go to Tananerl under the equally strict supervision of Prince Ilaran.


    Raiv¨ªth went to tell Ninuath about this. She found him poring over an old newspaper with a worried frown.


    "What is it now?" she asked.


    Ninuath held out the paper. It was opened to an article about the assassination of the president of Ephyia. Remembering that fiasco still made Raiv¨ªth grimace.


    "Haliran says she knows who the assassin was," Ninuath said.


    He and Raiv¨ªth exchanged dubious looks. No one had been able to track down the assassin. Even the killers they did capture claimed to have nothing to do with it.


    "Ten to one she''s lying."


    Ninuath nodded. "I know, but just in case she isn''t I think we should listen to what she has to say."


    <hr>


    For the rest of the morning Zi Yao''s condition remained the same. At the start of the afternoon he deteriorated sharply. His temperature climbed close to dangerous levels. Servants were sent to get ice from the ice-houses. Lian and Lady Yuan piled the ice on top of Zi Yao''s bed. It didn''t help.


    "There''s still one thing left to try," Lian said after checking Zi Yao''s temperature again. "But I must warn you, I''ve never done it before."


    Lady Yuan hadn''t outwardly panicked during this whole ordeal. Her hands shook from time to time and she had to wipe away tears, but in every other way she pretended to be perfectly calm. Mirio had to admit that she acted more calmly than either him or Lian. Even now she didn''t react with obvious alarm. The waver in her voice was the only sign of how upset she was.


    "Is it dangerous?"


    Lian managed a smile. He probably meant it to be reassuring. Instead it looked like the painted grimace on an opera mask. "Everything is dangerous. But I think this will be most dangerous to me rather than him."


    I don''t like the sound of that, Mirio thought. "What do you mean?"


    "It''s simple. I''ll remove the curse from him and draw it into myself, then figure out how to break it."


    I definitely don''t like the sound of that.


    Mirio frowned at Lian. "So your solution is to replace one patient with another. The curse might kill you before you break it. How is that supposed to help?"


    Lian smiled again. That smile wasn''t as pained as his last one, but there was something eerie about it. It was as if he was laughing at a private joke. "Don''t worry. Very few curses can harm me." He turned to Lady Yuan. "I''ll need a drop of Zi Yao''s blood."


    For a minute Lady Yuan was silent. Then she nodded sharply. In a strained voice she said, "Do whatever you have to."


    All doctors carried a box of medical supplies with them. Lian, being a very unusual doctor, had equally unusual supplies. When he opened the box Mirio caught a glimpse of small vials full of colourless liquid, a stack of dried leaves, and what looked like the bones of someone''s finger. He did not see acupuncture needles or any of the things he was used to doctors carrying around.


    Lian took a small knife out of the box. He raised Zi Yao''s hand and pressed the knife to the tip of his finger. At once a tiny drop of blood welled up. To Mirio''s shock Lian leant forward and sucked the blood away. Never in his life had he heard of any sort of medicine that required drinking blood. The only time that was needed was when taking solemn oaths -- or practising blood magic.


    For the first time an idea of just how Lian was able to cure Zi Yao dawned on Mirio. He watched suspiciously as Lian murmured something in a language he''d never heard before. A faint black mist drifted out of Zi Yao''s finger and into Lian''s chest.


    Lian got up. He stumbled as he stepped away from the bed. All of the colour had drained from his face.


    "He should wake up in a few minutes," he said. His voice was very faint and speaking seemed to take a lot of effort. "Check his temperature and--"


    Mirio grabbed him just as he began to collapse. Lady Yuan began giving the servants orders. Mirio stayed only long enough to hear Zi Yao''s temperature really had fallen. Then he half-carried half-dragged Lian out of the room.


    He hadn''t been in Lian''s room since the time Zi Yao dragged him in so many weeks ago when they first met. He pushed Lian to sit down on the bed and checked his pulse. It was steady, and the colour was gradually returning to his face. Hopefully that was a good sign.


    "I''m alright now," Lian said hoarsely. "Just need some water."


    Mirio poured him a glass from the water-jug beside the bed. He couldn''t avoid seeing two portraits placed on the table next to the water-jug. He studied them while Lian drank. They were of two young children, both of them less than a thousand years old. One was a girl playing with a dog. The other was a boy sitting on a swing.


    He leant closer to get a better look. Neither of them was familiar, though if he squinted he could see a faint resemblance between Lian and the girl. But the boy''s smile... Mirio had seen someone smile like that before. He just couldn''t think of who, even though something told him it was incredibly obvious and he was an idiot for not remembering.


    "Who are they?" he asked.


    "My parents." Lian set the glass down. He managed a wry smile. It was nothing like the boy''s, so that wasn''t the answer. "See? I told you curses don''t harm me."


    Why? Mirio wanted to ask. He decided not to. "Will Zi Yao be alright?"


    "I hope so. No one would be stupid enough to curse him twice."


    <hr>


    Within hours news spread around the palace. Not only was Zi Yao completely recovered, but so were all the other princes. Mirio looked at Lian when he heard this. Lian looked as surprised as he was.


    "Do you think you broke the curse completely?"


    Lian shrugged. "I doubt it, but who knows?"

 Chapter XVII: No Escape

    I do not really know whether I have survived. My inner self has shut itself up more and more. As though to protect itself, it has become inaccessible even to me. -- Rainer Maria Rilke


    Abi had never thought she would be happy to be under house arrest. If she''d thought about it at all she''d have assumed it would be unbearably boring. Now she had only to think of fleeing from the possessed Ilaran. Being bored didn''t seem nearly so bad in comparison.


    She expected her arrest to last at least a few months. She was wrong. Within a week of confessing everything to her grandmother, her parents ordered her into the main sitting room.


    Her parents hadn''t said a word about the whole sorry business. Abi would have preferred if they''d yelled and screamed about it. She knew her grandmother had told them. This wasn''t the sort of thing she would ever be discreet about. Yet they hadn''t raised the subject at all. In fact they had barely spoken to her about anything. It seemed she was being given the silent treatment by her entire family.


    She made her way to the sitting room, mentally preparing herself for the yelling to begin. Her parents were waiting for her. Going by the looks on their faces this would be an incredibly unpleasant meeting. Abi sank into a chair and waited. Silence reigned for several minutes. At last Hartanna spoke.


    "How in the name of all the gods did you turn out so badly? Of all the brainless things to do, you just had to choose dark magic. You could have killed us all!"


    Abi winced. She couldn''t defend herself so she said nothing. She continued to say nothing for another ten minutes while her mother told her exactly what she thought of her. The wish to fight back warred with the knowledge she deserved this lecture.


    Finally Hartanna ran out of synonyms for "stupid". "It''s in everyone''s best interests if you are kept out of trouble until you can prove you''ve become marginally wiser. My mother has the bright idea of sending you to Gengxin with your aunt Jiarl¨²r. Frankly I think this is a terrible idea and will backfire on us all. I warn you, if you so much as think about meddling with dark magic I''ll put you on a spaceship and send you to the nearest black hole."


    Gengxin? Abi repeated silently, bemused. Why am I going to Gengxin?


    She hadn''t heard anything about what was going on there. All she could think of was that she was being exiled under the pretence of going on holiday.


    Hartanna continued, "And when you come back, my mother will have made further arrangements to keep you out of trouble. I believe she intends to ship you off to Tananerl."


    Abi was more confused than ever. Tananerl? But that''s where Ilaran lives. I can''t go there! He''s furious with me!


    She trembled at the idea of having to face Ilaran on a daily basis after she got him killed and then possessed. She still had to apologise to him for all of that. What with the house arrest and everything she hadn''t found time to do it yet.


    "So," Hartanna finished in a gloomy voice, "you''ll pack what you need for the funerals and be ready to leave in three days."


    Once more Abi hadn''t a clue what she was talking about. Funerals? Whose funerals?


    Neither of her parents elaborated. Her father hadn''t said a word at all. He seemed to be absorbed in his own thoughts and barely paying any attention to what was happening.


    <hr>


    Mihasrin finally spoke after Abihira had left. "That''s the second time one of our children has become obsessed with dark magic."


    Hartanna froze. She and her husband rarely saw eye to eye on anything, but she had thought he knew better than to bring up that horrible incident. He continued in spite of her silence.


    "My mother used to say the Sinistrah family is cursed. I think she was right. How else can you explain what happened to Imrahil?"


    It had been years since anyone mentioned Imrahil. Hartanna tried not to think about him. She couldn''t bear it. Hearing his name reminded her of the last time she''d ever seen him. He''d been dressed all in red, soaked in blood, and laughing. That laugh still rang in her ears over a thousand years after his death.


    "Shut up," she snapped.


    Mihrasin fell silent. After a minute he got up and left without another word. Hartanna sank back into her chair. A memory came back to her, of Imrahil playing with his pet rabbit. It changed to what had happened a month after that.


    "Why did you kill the rabbit?"


    Imrahil shrugged. "I wanted to see what would happen." His face changed and his voice distorted. "I wanted to see what would happen," he said, now looking and sounding exactly like Abihira. "I wanted to see-- I wanted to-- I wanted."


    <hr>


    Siarvin kept a close eye on Ilaran over the days following the possession. He didn''t complain of being constantly hungry. He didn''t get up in the middle of the night. He didn''t lash out at anyone. In fact he seemed to be perfectly normal during the day. But during the night he tossed and turned for ages. Even when he lay still his breathing was too irregular for him to be asleep. After the second night Siarvin decided enough was enough.


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    "What''s wrong?" he asked at breakfast the next morning.


    Ilaran started. That was another difference. He was much more nervous than he ever had been before. The slightest sound would make him flinch. "Nothing," he said, stabbing his fork into his porridge. "Why would anything be wrong?"


    Siarvin stared at him blankly. "...Are you joking?"


    Ilaran bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. "What do you think?" His voice suddenly became much colder. "I''ve died, been brought back, been possessed, and eaten a corpse. I can still taste her blood in my mouth. What the hell do you think is wrong?"


    Siarvin stared in horror. Ilaran dropped his fork and pushed his chair back. He was shaking now and he had gone a sickly shade of green.


    "I''m sorry," he said in a calmer tone. "I didn''t mean to shout at you. I just--"


    He paled. Without a word he jumped up and ran out. Siarvin heard him retching in the bathroom.


    When Ilaran came back he was still pale but slightly less green. Siarvin spoke before he had a chance to.


    "I think it''s time you went home."


    Naturally Ilaran began to protest. He certainly had inherited Aderthril''s stubbornness. "But I still have things to do here. I have to be there for Haliran''s trial--"


    "I can take care of everything for you," Siarvin interrupted. "As for


    the trial, that won''t happen for at least a month. You know how long the legal system takes to do anything. You can come back for it. But in the meantime you need to go back to Tananerl. You''re not going to recover here."


    It took Ilaran a surprisingly short time to agree, which showed he must have been thinking along the same lines himself. For the rest of the morning they made plans for his return to Tananerl and what Siarvin would do while he was gone.


    "I''ll follow in about a week and bring Ir¨ªm¨¦ with me," Siarvin said.


    Ilaran nodded absently. He was thinking about something else again. He had that distracted look in his eyes that showed he wasn''t really listening. "Have you heard anything from Abihira since... Since then?"


    Siarvin shook his head. "She''s under house arrest. Why?"


    Ilaran shrugged. "I don''t know. I just keep thinking there''s something I need to tell her and I can''t remember what it is."


    <hr>


    Post from Saoridhl¨¦m to Gengxin was much more regular than post between Saoridhl¨¦m and Seroyawa. It was thanks to geography. Gengxin was separated by Saoridhl¨¦m by several countries but only a short stretch of sea, while there were no countries but an entire ocean between it and Seroyawa. Mirio was still used to letters taking a long time to arrive, so it took him by surprise when he got one from Kiriyuki that had been written only four days before.


    He read it in the privacy of his room -- not because he thought anyone would read it over his shoulder, but because Zi Yao was at the stage of recovery when he thought he was completely better but wasn''t strong enough to play outside. His complaints were incessant and very loud. They were audible even in Mirio''s room with several closed doors between them.


    You won''t be surprised to learn Abi is in trouble. Guess what? She''s gotten arrested again, Kiriyuki wrote.


    Mirio groaned when he read that. This was the fourth time Abi had been arrested. "What an idiot," he grumbled under his breath.


    She''s under house arrest. I don''t know why. Something to do with starting a fire that got out of control? You''d better warn everyone to stock up on fire extinguishers because -- and I didn''t believe this when I first heard it either -- she''s going to Gengxin. Yes, really. Her grandmother is sending her to attend your cousin''s funeral.


    Mirio had to read that part several times before he understood it wasn''t a joke. Then he groaned even more loudly than before.


    Someone knocked on the doorframe. "Your Highness?" Lian''s voice asked. "Are you alright?" When Mirio pulled the door open he found Lian looking very alarmed. "You sounded like you were in pain."


    For the first time he realised the impression he''d accidentally given with his groans. He hastened to explain.


    "No, I''m fine. Just annoyed. You know my foster sister?"


    Lian thought for a minute. "The Saoridhian one?"


    How many foster sisters do you think I have? Mirio almost asked. He stopped himself when he remembered Lian probably didn''t know.


    "She''s coming here for the Second Prince''s funeral."


    "Oh." Lian looked mildly confused. "And this is... annoying?"


    Mirio nodded. "You''ll understand when you met her."


    It was too bad. Gengxin had just gotten through one disaster. Now it was about to be hit with another. Which god had they offended?


    <hr>


    Like most magistrates Kitri had two houses. One was the country home she''d inherited form her great-aunt. The other was the townhouse she''d bought in the county town where she mainly worked. Keeping track of her belongings was a headache. She''d had to buy two sets of furniture and two copies of every book she owned, one for each house, and she had to have two sets of servants. It was such a nuisance that she rented out her country home most of the year and lived in her townhouse instead.


    After the incident of the skeletons in the graveyard she went home to the townhouse. The ground floor was owned by a lawyer, in keeping with the custom on Muirus 9436[1], so Kitri had to get into her house by a small side door that opened onto a flight of stairs. She locked the door behind her, ascended the stairs, and made herself a cup of tea to steady her nerves. After that she went to bed and fell asleep much more quickly than she had expected.


    Kitri slept through her alarm clock ringing. She slept through the bells chiming at midday. She slept until a terrible racket arose in the street below. The screams and running footsteps startled her awake. She leapt out of bed and pulled open the curtains. In disbelief she stared down at the scene below. At first she thought it had to be a nightmare.


    A crowd of people in blood-stained clothes filled the street. They moved in jerks and lurches, like puppets controlled by an inexperienced puppeteer. In spite of this they could still moved with incredible speed. They chased down ordinary passers-by, who fled from them in terror but were only rarely quick enough to escape. The unlucky ones were caught and dragged to the ground. Kitri watched in horror as the crowd swarmed a woman and tore at her face. For a minute the woman disappeared amidst her attackers. Then they retreated. The woman''s face was partly ripped off and her clothes were drenched in blood. She thrashed on the ground for several minutes. Then she got up and moved in the same puppet-like way the others did.


    Kitri stumbled back. She bumped into a chair in her haste to get out of sight. There was a chorus of snarls and groans from the street below, as if the crowd had heard her.


    This has something to do with the skeletons, she thought. From there it was easy to deduce, This has something to do with Abi.


    She had to send out a warning to all the towns around her. And she had to get Abi to come here and undo whatever she had done. But first she had to get out of her own house without being caught.


    She peered down the stairs at her front door. It was still locked. But there was a pool of blood trickling under it from the street outside.

 Chapter XVIII: On the Rampage

    Is this the way it ends now?


    How could I not see this coming?


    The message that it sends now


    Sounds exactly like a closing door


    -- Death Note (musical), The Way It Ends


    For ten minutes after looking out the window Kitri could do nothing but cower behind her bedroom door, expecting at any minute to hear the crowd break through her front door. Nothing happened. At last she gathered her wits together enough to think the situation through.


    The town-house didn''t have a back door. It did have a balcony overlooking the courtyard below. The kitchen opened out onto it. And the courtyard had a gate that opened onto the street behind. Maybe, just maybe, the crowd hadn''t gotten round there yet. If she was quick she could climb down from the balcony and make her escape that way.


    Kitri hunted through her house for a rope. Surely somewhere in the whole place there was something she could use to climb down?


    After a fruitless search she had to admit defeat. Unless she wanted to tear down the curtains and tie them to the balcony railings, there was nothing she could use.


    What about my belts? she thought.


    She ran to the wardrobe and examined all of her belts. None of them were long, but they were sturdy and in relatively good condition. She sat down and experimented with buckling one belt to another. Then she fastened them around the knob of a closed door and pulled with all her might.


    The door didn''t budge. Neither did the belts. This plan looked more and more plausible.


    Kitri attached two more belts to the makeshift rope. She laid it out on the floor and examined it critically. Was it long enough yet?


    She dragged it through the house and out onto the balcony. Apart from a few distant screams the town had gone eerily quiet. Maybe the crowd had moved on. She spared a minute to shudder for the unsuspecting people wherever they had moved on to. Quickly she tied the belt around the railing. The end of the last belt reached the ground. Carefully she climbed over the railing and grabbed hold of the belt.


    I hope this doesn''t break.


    A horrible vision of falling and breaking her leg filled her mind. How would she ever get help?


    Kitri gritted her teeth. She let go of the balcony and clambered down the belt at a speed she''d never thought she was capable of. Only when her feet were safely on solid ground did she let out the breath she''d been holding.


    Now for the gate.


    It was locked from the inside. At the top there was a space she could see over. Kitri climbed up and peered out through there. Her heart stopped.


    The street was full of a blood-stained crowd. None of them were moving. None of them were making any noise. They stood fixed in place like statues.


    Is it safe to go out there?


    She jumped down and looked around for a stone. When she found one she climbed back up and dropped it through the space. Thump. All of the crowd''s heads swivelled round. As one they began to shamble towards the sound.


    Kitri dropped to the ground and raced back to the belt. She clambered up in even faster than she''d come down it. Under the circumstances she had no time to think clearly. The crowd might break through the gate. If they found the belt they might climb up it too and then she''d be trapped in her house.


    There was a statue of the goddess Abihira -- how ironic, Kitri thought bitterly as she remembered who was responsible for all of this -- carved into the wall beside the balcony. Its head was close enough to the roof for someone standing on it to haul themselves up. Kitri climbed onto the statue. A crash at the gate suggested the crowd were trying to break in. She had no time to worry about how high she was or what would happen if she fell. The gate was already starting to creak ominously. She grabbed hold of the edge of the roof. With a jump and a heave she managed to get her upper body mostly onto the roof. From there it was easy to wriggle up the slates until she was fully on it.


    The gate gave way with a crash. The crowd rushed in, groaning and screeching like they were possessed. Kitri pressed herself against the roof. She didn''t dare to move until the noise had died down. At last she risked sitting up. The courtyard was full of the crowd, who had now gone back to behaving like statues.


    So they only attack when they hear something. Kitri filed that information away for future reference.


    On her hands and knees she crawled along the roof. If she could climb from here onto the roof next door, and from there to the one beyond that, she was bound to reach somewhere the crowd hadn''t invaded yet. Maybe she''d even find a horse she could borrow, because she didn''t fancy her chances of outrunning an entire mob if they decided to chase her. Or best of all she might be able to reach the post office and send a telegram to the nearest city with a large police station.


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    But first she had to get off this roof. Slowly... slowly... Don''t make any noise... Slowly...


    After what felt like an eternity she reached the edge of the roof. The house next door wasn''t as tall as hers. There was a drop of about two feet between the roofs.


    Kitri looked down at the courtyard. The people still weren''t moving. From here she could see into her neighbour''s garden. It was empty, but its gate was wide open. Trying to escape through there would take her out onto the street.


    She took a deep breath and swung her legs over the side of her roof. With a shove she slipped down onto her neighbour''s. Her landing made only the softest of thuds. Kitri watched the crowd nervously. None of them reacted.


    Now that she had the time to study them at leisure she realised that their clothes weren''t stained only with their victims'' blood. Many of them had gaping wounds in their faces and chests. Some were missing arms. One had lost half of its face. Bare bone showed through the mess of exposed muscle. No one could survive such horrific injuries. For the first time it dawned on Kitri that these people weren''t just possessed. They were actually undead. And their victims became undead too.


    Abi has a lot to answer for.


    <hr>


    When Siarvin made his mind up to do something -- or make someone else do something -- he proved to be very determined. Before Ilaran knew it his suitcases were packed and he was practically frog-marched to the train station. Siarvin sent a short telegram ahead of him. It would probably reach Tananerl at the same time Ilaran did.


    "Now remember, take a break from all sorts of stress for at least two weeks," Siarvin said. He sounded so much like Nuvildu in one of his fussy moods that it almost hurt. "I''ll come straight to Tananerl and drag you out of your office if I hear you''ve gone back to work."


    Ilaran listened with a mixture of amusement and something half-way between confusion and embarrassment. It had been centuries since anyone cared so much about his well-being. Not even Kivoduin would ever have the audacity to order him to stop working.


    "But I have to do some work," he protested, more to see what Siarvin''s reaction would be than because he truly objected.


    Siarvin bristled as if he''d announced his intention to seek out the most stressful work imaginable. "You will do nothing of the sort! Your secretary or whatever she is can handle all of your work. She''s done it perfectly well while you were here."


    He was right, of course. Ilaran wasn''t allowed onto the train until he''d promised not to so much as look at any paperwork.


    Amidst all the chaos of being forced to leave so unexpectedly Ilaran hadn''t even been able to notify the empress in person of his departure. He certainly hadn''t had a chance to talk to Abihira. But when the train had pulled out of the station and he had time to think, he finally realised what it was he wanted to tell her.


    Being possessed had done something to his mind. The parasite was gone but it had left traces of its presence. (He hoped that didn''t mean he was in danger of getting possessed again. Just in case it did, he would make it a high priority to consult an exorcist when he got home.) And those traces were reacting to something. He didn''t know how to describe it even in his own mind. But it was as if they sensed something far away and were trying to reach out to it.


    <hr>


    Everyone in the palace waited with baited breath for a reappearance of the disease. Two weeks passed. No one took sick. The people who had been sick showed no signs of being any the worse for wear. By now no one had any doubt it had been a curse. But all of them assumed the curse was broken.


    Mirio wasn''t so sure. No self-respecting magician would cast a curse that could be so easily broken. And Lian had only taken it out of Zi Yao''s body, not the other patients.


    "Could you have broken the entire curse just by curing one person?" he asked during one of their increasingly frequent meetings for tea.


    Lian shook his head. "I''ve never heard of that happening before. You see, a curse is... It''s like a spider-web." He turned away from the table and rummaged through his desk. At last he found a sheet of paper. He picked up the brush and drew a circle in the middle. "This is the centre of the web. The spider -- the person who cast the curse -- is here. And the curse itself," he drew lines extending from the circle, "is here. In all of these lines. One going to each victim, but all leading back to the caster."


    Mirio studied the drawing. "Then is the caster also a victim?"


    He''d heard of curses like that. They''d always struck him as very badly-thought-out. What was the point of killing someone when you''d just die too? It was like cutting off your nose to spite your face.


    Lian shrugged. "Probably not, but there have been stupid spell-casters before."


    "But the curse wouldn''t end with their death," Mirio said thoughtfully, remembering the last time he''d heard of a case like that. "So that''s not what happened here." He leant forward to examine the drawing more closely. "A spider can always feel when its web is disturbed. So taking the metaphor further, whoever cast the curse would feel you breaking it. They must have panicked and cancelled the curse."


    Lian nodded slowly. He looked as unconvinced as Mirio felt. But it was the best explanation either of them could come up with.


    At least there was one good thing. Whoever had cast the curse was unlikely to cast it again. It would be much too obvious. As things were, everyone was content to pretend it had just been an outbreak of a previously-unknown disease -- mainly because the king had already figured out the culprit had to be one of his own family. Mirio had no doubt that he was investigating behind the scenes, just as he had no doubt that the results of his investigation would never be made known. In a few months someone might be sent off to a distant part of the kingdom, supposedly as a promotion, but the truth would always stay buried.


    After a few minutes'' silence Lian changed the subject. "What''s your sister like? The one who''s coming here, I mean."


    How was he supposed to describe Abi? "She''s the sort of genius who''s a complete idiot most of the time. Imagine a child who''s been given caffeine and let loose in a magic academy and you''ve got an idea of the chaos Abihira causes."


    Lian raised his eyebrows. "...And the empress thought she''s a good choice for a diplomatic mission?"


    To be perfectly honest Mirio would rather have sent a hyperactive chimpanzee on a diplomatic mission and he could only assume Abi''s selection was the result of a terrible lapse in judgement. He opted for a more tactful answer instead. "Maybe the empress hopes giving Abihira some responsibilities will make her mature."


    "We must hope it succeeds then," Lian said. He smiled wryly. "At any rate she can''t be as much of a disaster as the last ambassador from Jirinkaghanat. That idiot started two blood feuds and offended nine noble clans within a week of his arrival."


    "Don''t jinx it," Mirio warned. "There is nothing, and I mean nothing, that Abi can''t do when she feels like it."

 Chapter XIX: Ill-Fated

    I took a little journey to the unknown


    And I come back changed, I can feel it in my bones


    -- Lord Huron, Meet Me in the Woods


    Abi remained under house arrest right up until the time came for her to set off for the ship. She was watched everywhere except while she slept. In the garden, in the library, in the sitting room... It was enraging. She couldn''t even read without one of her parents or siblings coming up and looking over her shoulder just to make sure her book had nothing to do with necromancy. Any more of this and she would go stark raving mad.


    She made a point of behaving as mundanely as possible. In fact she went a step further and tried to make herself downright boring. She pored over lengthy treaties on sewing and gardening. She did her best to entrap Arafaren, her designated watcher on most days, in a conversation about tadpoles. For the first time in centuries she consciously made an effort to follow her etiquette lessons to the letter. Overnight she became a model of proper behaviour -- outwardly, at least. The only problem was that this method bored her just as much as the rest of her family.


    While in search of something, anything, to do, Abi hit upon a useful occupation that would pass the time and that no one could possibly object to. Like all Saoridhian families the Sinistrahs placed a great deal of importance on family trees. There was an entire room in the palace dedicated to family records and portraits. Every few decades someone was supposed to go through it and make sure everything was in its proper place. In practice it was usually left alone for several centuries at a time.


    Arafaren made a despairing face when he heard she intended to sort through the record room.


    "Oh no!" he wailed. "You''re trying to bore me to tears, aren''t you?"


    Abi shrugged and didn''t deny it.


    He grumbled and complained all through dinner. But it was no use. Their parents gave their permission for Abi''s project, so Arafaren had to tag along. The housekeeper left out a stack of dusters for them both. Abi handed them all to Arafaren and let him carry them to the record room.


    She opened the door. Immediately she began to reconsider this plan. There was a collection of portraits piled in the corner under dust-sheets. Obviously someone had intended to put them back on the walls then forgot all about them. The only filing cabinets that were clean were the ones holding records about the most recent generations. All of the older cabinets were covered in dust. The wooden floor was coated with a thick carpet of dust too.


    Arafaren dropped the dusters down on a bench beside the door. He drew his breath in sharply. "Whew! You''ve picked the hardest job you can find, haven''t you?"


    Abi said nothing. She was already trying to figure out if it was too late to change her mind. Alas, it probably was.


    "Get a broom and sweep the floor," she said. "I''ll see where those pictures go."


    Arafaren scowled and folded his arms. "You get a broom. This was all your idea. I''ll have nothing to do with it."


    The only good thing about having a prankster for a brother was the amount of blackmail material he had given her over the years. Abi stared him in the eye without blinking. "Go and get a broom, or I''ll tell Mother the truth about the incident of the table, the paintbrush, and the scarf."


    Arafaren made a noise somewhere between a squeak and a groan. "You wouldn''t!"


    Abi nodded solemnly. "I might even tell her about the incident with the water bottles."


    He sank down onto the bench with the air of one who had just been condemned to death. Looking up at her with an attempt at defiance he said, "You''re hardly one to talk, Miss Necromancer!"


    As a threat it might have worked before the scandal was revealed. Now, though, it was worse than useless. For years Abi had waited for a chance to get back at him for his worst pranks. Now she had that chance, and she wouldn''t let it slip away because of his attempts to scare her.


    "Oh, but you see, everyone already knows my deepest, darkest secrets. There''s nothing worse for them to learn. You, on the other hand..." She trailed off.


    Arafaren groaned again. "All right, I''ll get your bloody broom. Don''t you dare think you''ll get away with this! I''ll make you regret it!"


    "You sound like a toddler," Abi said in a bored tone.


    Her brother left, growling imprecations under his breath. Abi looked around the room again, taking note of everything that had to be done. She sighed and went over to the portraits. The first one turned out to be a portrait of her grandmother as a young girl. She stared at it incredulously. If it wasn''t for the name and date written on the frame she would never have believed the little girl with pigtails and elaborate bows in her hair could possibly have grown up to become Empress Raiv¨ªth.


    Heavy footsteps outside announced Arafaren''s return. He stomped down the hallway, threw open the door of the record room, and made a point of treading very heavily on the floorboards as he stalked in. This backfired on him. His footsteps disturbed the dust and made it fly up into his face. For several minutes he coughed and spluttered.


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    Abi ignored him in favour of finding a spare place on the wall to hang the portrait. No wonder all of these pictures were left in the corner. There really was nowhere for them on the walls. Every available space was taken by a portrait of some past emperor or empress -- usually either a coronation or wedding portrait. Childhood pictures were given much less importance.


    Maybe L¨ªusal will add these to her collection, Abi thought.


    Arafaren finally recovered from his coughing fit. Without even needing to be asked he set to work with the broom and a dust-pan. Judging by his aggressive swipes he now had a personal grudge against the floor.


    Abi moved on to the next pictures. There was one of her grandfather as a young boy, one of her mother and two of her aunts -- at university, going by their uniforms. Below it was a portrait that was really more of a sketch. It showed someone''s wedding. Odd. Wedding portraits tended to be very elaborate and expensive. Take her parents'', for example. Not only did it show the bride and groom, it showed the priest, the bride''s parents and siblings, the groom''s parents and siblings, and as many of the guests as the artist could fit into it. This one showed only the bride and groom.


    She studied their faces. With a jolt she realised the woman was her mother. This must be a record of Hartanna''s ill-fated first wedding, then. Abi had never seen her stepfather before. She didn''t even know his name. All she knew was that Hartanna had met a fellow student at university. Against the advice of all her family she had eloped with him and gone to live in obscurity somewhere. Thirty years later she came back with the news her husband was dead. She brought with her a toddler -- Abi''s half-brother Gulreon, who was so much older than her she barely even knew him.


    Years afterwards Raiv¨ªth had arranged a marriage between Hartanna and Mihasrin. How well that had gone could be seen in their icy indifference to each other. Though at some point before Abi''s birth they must have gotten on better. Abi was their ninth child, after all.


    She dusted the drawing and put it aside with the pile of cleaned pictures. The next one was a portrait of Gulreon. Abi compared his face to his father''s and was mildly amused to see he resembled his half-siblings more.


    Poor Reon, she thought.


    Judging by his portrait her stepfather had been quite handsome, while Abi and her full siblings were not noted for being good-looking.


    Below that one was another unfamiliar portrait. It was a young man, about the same age as she was now, with the distinctive silver eyes of the Sinistrah clan. But his eyes were the most vivid shade of silver Abi had ever seen. They were almost eerie.


    She looked at the label. Birthday portrait of Imrahil Mihasrinsilru, born 2654 in the 3086th year of Emperor Junhasan.


    In her family''s plot of the royal crypt there was a memorial to her oldest brother. A memorial, but no grave. Until now Abi hadn''t had a face to put to his name. He had died less than five years after she was born.


    For the first time it occurred to her that it was strange Imrahil''s portrait was not on display. Hartanna''s and Mihasrin''s were, as were the portraits of all their other children.


    Arafaren finished sweeping a path from one side of the room to the other. He wiped his forehead and tossed the broom aside. "You can do the rest." He leaned closer to see what she was looking at. "Who''s that?"


    Abi held up the portrait and pointed to the label. "Why do you think his picture''s locked up here instead of being out in the gallery?"


    Arafaren sat down beside her and stared at the picture. "You don''t remember, do you? You were too young." He sounded smugly superior about that, as if he wasn''t less than a hundred years older than her and would hardly remember much more. "It''s because of the scandal."


    Scandal? All Abi had heard about Imrahil was that he died very young in a tragic boating accident. She tried to imagine what could be scandalous about that. None of the things she came up with were plausible for a man who died when he was under two thousand years old and hadn''t even been a full adult. "What scandal?"


    Arafaren shrugged. "He had a fight with Granny and Granddad. I don''t know what it was about. But apparently he threatened Granddad with a sword. So he was arrested and sent off somewhere to calm down. But then the boat sank and he drowned."


    A scandal that led to the person responsible being sent away? That sounded familiar. It seemed Abi had more in common with her oldest brother than she''d ever known. She looked at his portrait curiously. There was no immediately obvious resemblance between them. It was never easy to tell what someone was thinking from a portrait -- mainly because, as she knew from personal experience, very few people thought about anything while sitting for a portrait. It was an interminably boring business.


    The more she looked at it the more she noticed something odd. Usually artists depicted their subjects from an angle, with their heads turned slightly to the side. Not this one. Imrahil stared directly ahead as if he was looking at her. That thought made her shudder.


    Abi set the portrait aside. Obviously it wouldn''t go on display, and it was doubtful if L¨ªusal would accept it. Something about that didn''t sit right with her. No matter what he''d done it wasn''t fair that Imrahil should be eternally locked away and forgotten. It wasn''t as if he''d killed someone, after all.


    She and Arafaren tidied up the room for the rest of the day. Arafaren left before she did. When he was gone Abi picked up Imrahil''s portrait and carried it out with her. She had a slightly uneasy feeling about this. But she put it down to wariness about being caught and having to explain what she was doing.


    Luckily it was a smallish portrait and not one of the huge ones on display. She managed to carry it upstairs without much difficulty. No one saw her. At first she''d considered putting it in her room. But when she thought about that she realised someone was bound to discover it there. Much better to put it in one of the guest rooms. As for what she''d do with it then... Well, she hadn''t thought that far ahead. She just didn''t like the idea of leaving him alone in an empty room. They''d never known each other, they''d barely even been alive at the same time, yet somehow she felt as if she knew him.


    I wonder if he was reincarnated as someone I know.


    Saoridhin religion taught that people were usually only reincarnated as their own descendants. Imrahil had no descendants -- as far as she knew and unless his fight with their grandparents had been about something very scandalous indeed -- so who would he have been reincarnated as? Would he ever be reincarnated at all?


    Abi set the portrait on the bedside table in one of the guest rooms. In the dim light that filtered through the closed curtains she could have sworn the portrait was smiling. She turned on the light to check. No, it still wore the neutral expression common among portraits.


    Must have been only her imagination.

 Chapter XX: A Mutual Friend

    Is it better to have had a good thing and lost it, or never to have had it? -- Charles Dickens, Our Mutual Friend


    In the next few days Abi completely forgot about both Imrahil and his portrait. Aunt Jiarl¨²r arrived in Eldrin. She swept into her older sister''s house, grabbed hold of her niece within minutes of greeting everyone, and dragged her into the sitting room by the ear. Abi was beginning to hate that sitting room. No good ever came of her being brought there. It was where her parents broke the news of her impending marriage, it was where Kitri cornered her in front of Ir¨ªm¨¦, and worst of all it was where Haliran had made her blackmail attempt. It was rapidly becoming her least favourite place on the planet.


    Aunt Jiarl¨²r closed the door and turned to glare at Abi. She planted her hands on her hips. "What''s this I hear about necromancy?"


    If she wanted a full repetition of the whole sorry story she could just ask her mother. Abi didn''t feel like going over the whole thing yet again. She shrugged and said nothing.


    Aunt Jiarl¨²r continued to glare at her. Realising she wouldn''t get an answer, she changed the subject. "So. I''ve been saddled with you for this Gengxin trip. Have you ever been to Gengxin?"


    Abi thought for a while. Had she ever been? She''d heard Mirio talk about it, and she knew Kiriyuki had visited, but had she ever gone herself? If she had it was so long ago she''d forgotten. "I don''t think so."


    Her aunt sighed. "It''s a good thing I have. I suppose it''s up to me to teach you as much protocol as possible before we get there. Though I doubt it''ll do any good. Remember this. On this trip you''ll be an official representative of the empress and Saoridhl¨¦m itself. If you do anything to offend the Gengxinese, your actions will reflect on all of us. Make one wrong move and I''ll have you strung up by your thumbs. Cause any trouble and by the Nine Heavens I''ll make you wish you were never born."


    This trip sounded more and more like it would be nothing but utter misery. Abi sighed wearily and resigned herself to a long, long journey.


    <hr>


    So many strange things had happened lately -- and had happened so quickly -- that Ir¨ªm¨¦ felt as if he was living in the midst of a whirlwind. Turning into a dragon, seeing Abi turn into a phoenix, Ilaran leaving, Abi being arrested and now being sent off to Gengxin... All of it seemed more like a dream than reality.


    Ironically his mother was the most constant thing through it all. The minute she received part of his wages she went off and bought more animals for her menagerie. A lifetime of keeping his mouth shut stopped him from telling her what he thought of this, but only just.


    At last the day came for him to go to Tananerl. Ir¨ªm¨¦ breathed a sigh of relief after saying goodbye to his mother and leaving the hotel. Siarvin, Shizuki and Koyuki -- who was coming with them to Tananerl, possibly for a visit or possibly to live there -- were waiting for him outside. Siarvin eyed his many suitcases with a mildly judgemental expression. Koyuki looked astonished.


    "Are you bringing your entire house?" Shizuki asked, staring at the suitcases.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ felt slightly embarrassed. Maybe he shouldn''t have bought quite so much. "Of course not."


    Getting all his luggage into the carriage proved much harder than he expected. Siarvin''s mildly judgemental look became more and more severe after they all, with the help of the coach-driver, spent several minutes trying to fight everything into the luggage compartment. In the end they had to put some of the suitcases on top of the carriage and the others on the floor and seats. It was a very uncomfortable journey when no one could move without bumping into a suitcase.


    "How are we ever going to get all of this unpacked and put on the train?" Koyuki wondered.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ winced. "I think I should have left some at home and sent for it later."


    "Yes," Siarvin said grimly. He was having to hold a suitcase against the carriage door to stop it toppling over on top of him.


    Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the carriage finally arrived at the station. No trains went directly from Eldrin to Tananerl. It was much too far away. Instead they would take a train to Veiteos, the furthest this line went, and would change there to another train that took them to Tananerl. When the air ship companies finally settled their disputes with various city councils, then there would be a way to travel directly to Tananerl. Until then, everyone would just have to make do with the extra inconvenience.


    Abi was waiting at the station. Arafaren and one of her older sisters lurked behind her. Ir¨ªm¨¦ would have thought they were there to be chaperones if not for the dark looks both of them kept shooting at Abi. Oh. This was about the house arrest business, then.


    The porter came to help put all the suitcases -- everyone else''s as well as Ir¨ªm¨¦''s, and his embarrassment was somewhat lessened when he saw that Shizuki had brought a large collection of luggage too. Not as large as his, but enough to explain why there had been so little room in the carriage -- onto the train.


    Abi approached him. Then she glared over her shoulder as her siblings followed.


    "What happened?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked. "I went to see you but your parents said you weren''t allowed to see anyone."


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    Abi grimaced. "Grandmother found out about the necromancy. She''s put me under house arrest and tomorrow I''m being sent to Gengxin."


    He''d already heard about that. "But she already knew about the necromancy."


    "She didn''t know I''d broken my promise not to do it any more. And she was furious when she found out."


    I told you so, Ir¨ªm¨¦ wanted to say. It took a great deal of effort to keep his mouth closed.


    "So you''re going to Gengxin and I''m going to Tananerl," he said instead. "I suppose the next time we''ll meet will be--" Our wedding, he almost said, but the words practically choked him. There were some things he just did not want to think about.


    Judging by the horrified look on Abi''s face her thoughts had gone along the same lines. She very quickly changed the subject.


    "When you see Ilaran, could you tell him I''m sorry? For..." She glanced back at her siblings. They looked suspicious. "...For everything?"


    "You should tell him yourself," Ir¨ªm¨¦ pointed out.


    "I know, but when will I ever get the chance? It''s not likely we''ll ever see each other again. And anyway, do you really think he wants to see me again?"


    She had a point. Behind them the train whistled. Shizuki leaned out of the window and waved for Ir¨ªm¨¦ to hurry up.


    "I''ll tell him," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said. "Try not to cause trouble in Gengxin."


    Abi made a face. "Why does everyone keep telling me that? What do they think I''ll do? I know how to behave properly at funerals."


    Just don''t raise the dead again, Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought. He decided not to say it in front of her siblings. "I''ll write and tell you what Tananerl''s like."


    Abi nodded. "And I''ll write about the funerals. You''ll see I won''t cause any trouble."


    Usually engaged couples would hug or kiss when about to be separated for a long time. Neither Abi nor Ir¨ªm¨¦ were the sort to kiss anyone, and they hadn''t hugged each other in public since they were children. (The hug after Abi turned into a phoenix didn''t count since it wasn''t really public and also caused by extreme stress.) So instead they bowed somewhat awkwardly and said goodbye.


    As Ir¨ªm¨¦ walked towards the train he heard Arafaren say, "Why do you want to apologise to Prince Ilaran?"


    "Mind your own business," Abi snapped.


    The train pulled away from the platform. The last Ir¨ªm¨¦ saw of Abi was her standing on the platform and waving to him. For a split second he could have sworn he saw a shadow hanging over her like a cloud. Then it was gone, and shortly afterwards the train had left the station and Abi was out of sight.


    I hope that doesn''t mean something is seriously wrong, he thought.


    Oh well. There was nothing he could do about it now even if there was. And at least Abi had a talent for getting out of trouble unharmed.


    <hr>


    Depending on how you looked at it, it took Ilaran either a surprisingly long or surprisingly short time to realise something was definitely... well, not wrong exactly, but odd. And very unwelcome. He''d been under so much stress in Eldrin that he hadn''t had a chance to consider there might be side-effects of Abihira going through his memories -- and him going through hers. After everything that had happened, that possibility completely slipped his mind until he was on the train from Veiteos to Tananerl.


    He didn''t really think he would be possessed again. The traces of the parasite left in his mind were like scars or dead tissue, a reminder but not a threat. But just in case he was wrong he spent most of the journey locked up in his cabin. It had another benefit in that it gave him a chance to sleep. Until now he hadn''t realised just how tired he was.


    On the second day of the journey Ilaran awoke with a confused sense of being annoyed by being constantly watched. He checked all over his cabin to make sure there wasn''t the smallest crack for someone to spy on him. When he was satisfied he wasn''t really being watched he put it down to a nightmare and went back to sleep. The next time he awoke it was with the feeling of being completely and utterly bored. That was harder to explain away as a nightmare. And the next time confirmed there was something much more serious to blame for this.


    Ilaran had dinner, read a few pages of a novel, then decided to doze for a while. He didn''t intend to fall deeply asleep. Yet the next thing he knew he was in a very dusty room. Most of it was indistinct shapes in the way dream-places usually were. Abihira knelt on the floor in front of him. A young man who he vaguely recognised as one of her brothers was busy sweeping near the door.


    What''s he doing here? Ilaran wondered.


    He could understand having a dream -- or a nightmare, more likely -- involving Abihira. But why had his mind decided to include a man he''d never even spoken to?


    An inkling of the truth began to dawn on him. Abihira picked up something in front of her -- a portrait, he realised when he focused on it. Thoughts filtered through his head, thoughts that were indistinct like voices in the distance and most definitely not his own.


    Ilaran glared at Abihira. "Congratulations. You''ve just dragged me into your mind. Will I never be free of you?"


    Unfortunately their connection appeared to be one-way. Abihira showed no sign of having heard him. She set the portrait aside and picked up the next one.


    Her brother said something. Ilaran couldn''t hear him or her response. The first thing he heard clearly was her brother -- what was his name, anyway? -- saying, "He had a fight with Granny and Granddad. I don''t know what it was about. But apparently he threatened Granddad with a sword. So he was arrested and sent off somewhere to calm down. But then the boat sank and he drowned."


    On its own that was completely meaningless. But then he saw the label on the portrait and did a double take. Birthday portrait of Imrahil Mihasrinsilru, born 2654 in the 3086th year of Emperor Junhasan.


    "What? Imrahil wasn''t sent away. He got drunk and decided to go swimming."


    It had been well over a thousand years since Ilaran had given any thought to Imrahil. He had so many relatives he''d never met that he''d never bothered to keep track of them or how they died. But everyone knew the circumstances of Imrahil''s death. He''d been so unbelievably stupid that no one was ever likely to forget.


    Yet why had Abihira''s brother heard a different story? Siblings were never likely to cover up each other''s idiocy. Ilaran wouldn''t have been discreet if one of his siblings had died in such a pointless and absurd way.


    Odd.


    Ilaran firmly resisted the urge to investigate. It was none of his business. And the less time he spent in Abihira''s head, the better for both of them.


    Now that he knew where he was it was easy to retreat back to his own mind. Then he was briefly dumbfounded by the realisation that he had gotten dragged into Abihira''s mind from over a thousand miles away. Telepathy was usually only effective within a range of half a mile. How the hell--


    Don''t think about it, he told himself. Just stop it happening again.


    He constructed the strongest telepathic shields he was capable of. With any luck that would be enough to keep Abihira out.


    For the rest of the trip home he wasn''t disturbed by any more of Abihira''s thoughts.

 Chapter XXI: Out of the Frying Pan

    I climbed to where the sky fades


    Till I''m a castaway


    Till I asphyxiate


    I caught your eyes, bird of prey


    And I can''t cauterise


    The open wound you made


    -- Starset, Stratosphere


    Tananerl was less a principality and more a loose association of kingdoms and tribes who were forced to work together with gritted teeth. As such its capital was constantly disputed. Five thousand years ago Ilaran came up with the idea of having two capitals, a temporary summer one and a permanent winter one. The summer one was a different city each year and moved around all the kingdoms in turn. The winter one was Magdr?d-Keszgy, capital of Ahal¨¢l. Ilaran might only be Prince of Tananerl, but he was also still King of Ahal¨¢l.


    Siarvin was from a different kingdom. Zhlokaw, if Ilaran remembered correctly. Would he be happy to stay in Ahal¨¢l? Would he prefer to go home? If he went home what would he find? So much had changed over the millennia. Ilaran had found it hard enough to adjust when he returned to Ahal¨¢l after he and his mother left, and he had only been gone a few centuries. And what about Shizuki? Would he stay in Tananerl with Siarvin or go to Seroyawa with Koyuki?


    Those thoughts and similar ones occupied his mind all the way to the capital. He had sent word ahead to Kivoduin and no one else. She would pass the news on to the staff while keeping it from his council. Years ago he''d learnt the best way to make sure none of the politicians and rival rulers got any ideas was to never let them know his plans. People were less inclined to make plots in his absence when they didn''t know when he''d be back.


    The ordinary people of Tananerl had seen Ilaran only during official events or on important days. Then he was in full ceremonial regalia. None of them had any idea what he looked like in ordinary clothes. Before the train arrived he changed out of his distinctly Saoridhin clothes and into much more normal Tananerlish ones. Of all the dozens of people at the railway station, not a single one spared him a second glance when he stepped off the train. It was mildly amusing to see.


    Ilaran sent his luggage ahead and made his way to Viniok Palace slowly. He took the long way around to see what had changed in the city. Not much, and thankfully none of it was for the worse.


    There were new shops on the main street and a collection of new trees planted along Koziatyn Street. The police station had finally been repainted. And not before time; it had been an eyesore for years. Old Zhengia, the city''s most famous baker, had another colossal cake on display in her front window. It was shaped like a dragon and looked like it would destroy the window and possibly part of the building if it overbalanced. Someone had finally convinced The Happy Shoemaker to replace their battered and barely legible old sign with a new one. Not to be outdone, the Guardsman Tavern across the road had replaced their sign with an enormous banner hung from the roof. The bookshop on Balazna Street had a notice in their window proudly declaring they were the only shop in the city that had the complete works of a popular author.


    At last Ilaran reached the palace. The guards recognised him at once and bowed. So did the servants he passed on the way in. Kivoduin was waiting in his study. Her mildly annoyed expression warned him something was wrong.


    Over the many years of their acquaintance Ilaran''s and Kivoduin''s relationship had become impossible to explain. She was his second-in-command, but also his friend, just about the only person he trusted absolutely, and -- very occasionally, when they were both more lonely or under more stress than usual -- his lover. She handled his duties when he was away. There was usually very little she couldn''t deal with on her own. What could be wrong that she hadn''t already dealt with?


    Kivoduin didn''t waste time with inquiring about his trip or how he was. "The council is meeting right now. Marquis Udgrakry is telling everyone you''ve run off to Saoridhl¨¦m permanently."


    Ilaran raised an eyebrow. Marquis Udgrakry had always been a pest. He wanted to be Prince of Tananerl and he wasn''t even subtle about it. "And I take it the marquis has no idea I''m back?"


    Kivoduin figured out his quickly-formed plan at once. Her annoyed expression was replaced with a grin. "Not the slightest idea."


    <hr>


    Marquis Udgrakry had never been so happy in his life. That pest Ilaran had gone "on holiday" and they''d never heard another word from him. Most of the council were used to this sort of behaviour from Ilaran and thought nothing of it. But the marquis wasn''t going to let such a fine opportunity slip through his fingers. He summoned an urgent council meeting and did his best to convince everyone who bothered to attend that their prince had abandoned his realm.


    "We should have known better than to trust him," Udgrakry proclaimed. "We should have known his loyalty was always to Saoridhl¨¦m and--"


    The door opened and hit the wall with a thud. Udgrakry, interrupted in the middle of the longest speech he''d ever been able to give, turned to glare at the latecomer. His eyes widened. He broke off in the middle of his sentence with a sound somewhere between a whimper and a gasp.


    Prince Ilaran bared his teeth in a parody of a smile. "Oh, do continue, my lord. I''m most interested to hear what you have to say."


    <hr>


    The sun glared down on the town. It was the hottest part of the day and the roof-tiles were painfully warm. Kitri crouched in the shadow cast by a chimney and tried not to touch the tiles.


    Below her the street was eerily silent. Part of her wanted to venture closer to the edge and see if the crowd were gone. The rest of her warned her that this might alert them, and who knew if they could find their way onto the rooftop?


    It grew hotter and hotter. Even the shadow didn''t provide any relief. Sweat trickled down her back. She wiped her forehead. This couldn''t go on for much longer.


    Eventually she couldn''t bear it any more. Kitri took a deep breath and ventured out of the shadow. She crawled on her hands and knees to the edge of the roof. Nervously she peered down. Nothing. The street was completely empty. All that showed the crowd had ever been there were the blood-stains splattered on the ground and buildings. Kitri stood up to get a better view. Still nothing.


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    Where did they go?


    Wherever they were, this was the best chance she had to get out of here safely. She looked around for a skylight. There was one a roof away. She scurried over to it and tried to prise it open. Its frame was unbearably hot. Exasperated, Kitri pulled out an already-loose slate and smashed the glass. She reached through the hole and undid the clasp. Very quickly she raised the skylight and jumped down into the attic.


    It was blessedly cool after the terrible heat. Kitri took a moment to catch her breath. Then she opened the attic door and stepped out onto the stairs. As she ventured through the house she expected to find the owner somewhere. She mentally prepared her explanation. But there was no one there.


    When she reached the ground floor she found furniture overturned. Pools of blood soaked the floor. A red stain ran from the front door, which was ajar, into the dining room.


    Kitri approached the dining room warily. The stain divided into several ones leading under the table and under the cabinets around the walls. She knelt down and looked under the nearest cabinet. A blood-stained face stared back at her.


    She screamed and fell back. Now she saw there were bodies under all of the furniture. Bite-marks covered their faces and limbs. Some of them were missing flesh. All were covered in blood.


    This doesn''t make sense, Kitri thought once she recovered. I saw the crowd kill people. They never bothered to hide the bodies.


    All of her instincts screamed this was a terrible idea and she should get out as quickly as possible. For once Kitri ignored them. She leaned closer. The nearest body had dried blood all around its mouth. Its lips were drawn back, revealing very pointed teeth. Scraps of flesh still clung to its teeth.


    Light dawned. These weren''t murder victims shoved out of sight by their murderers. They were part of the crowd who for some reason had come and hidden in here. And a warning voice at the back of her mind told her they weren''t really dead. They were sleeping. And they might awake at any moment.


    Kitri fled. She ran out of the house, down the street, and all the way to the outskirts of town. There was only one main road in and out of the town of Gesom. Like all average-sized towns it had walls around it and gates that were closed at night or when an enemy invasion was expected. Kitri hammered at the door of the north gatekeeper''s house. Words could not describe her relief when the door opened and she came face to face with a normal, living immortal.


    "What''s going on?" the gatekeeper asked.


    It seemed a ridiculous question. "Haven''t you heard all the noise?"


    The gatekeeper shook her head. "Can''t hear anything over the sound of my sewing machine."


    Kitri groaned. This was going to be very hard to explain. "Listen, there''s been-- Someone''s cast a curse on the town." That was a much simpler explanation than the truth. "It''s turning people into monsters. We have to close both the gates so the curse doesn''t spread."


    The gatekeeper scratched her head. "It''s against the law to close the gates during the day."


    "I know the law! But this is an emergency!" Kitri stopped and took a deep breath. "Look. I''ll put it in writing that I ordered you and the south gatekeeper to close the gates. Then if anyone asks you can show them the order as proof I''m responsible."


    "All right," the gatekeeper said dubiously. "Are you sure it''s a curse?"


    "Yes," Kitri said irritably.


    The gatekeeper let her into house. She scribbled out her order while the older woman closed the gates and sent a telegram to the south gatekeeper telling him to do the same.


    "I have to go to the next town for help," Kitri said. "Do you have a ladder?"


    "Whatever for?"


    "To climb over the wall."


    The gatekeeper took her out to the back of the gatehouse. Together they dragged a ladder out of the storeroom and propped it up against the wall. The gatekeeper gave her a length of rope to climb down on the other side.


    "You''d better leave the ladder up," Kitri said. "You might need to escape quickly. The curse''s victims are asleep now, but I don''t think they''ll stay asleep for long."


    <hr>


    Once upon a time Abi had thought her parents'' sitting room was the place she hated most. Now she discovered she was wrong. The place she actually hated the most was anywhere Aunt Jiarl¨²r happened to be. Especially when there was no chance of escape.


    The day after saying goodbye to Ir¨ªm¨¦, Abi was dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and marched down to the docks before she knew what was happening. When she woke up enough to understand her surroundings she discovered she was already onboard the boat that would take them to Gengxin. It had already left Eldrin harbour. Saoridhl¨¦m''s coast was disappearing behind them.


    Abi was quite fond of boats. She had no choice but to learn to like them when her foster siblings were sea serpent immortals. When they were younger a favoured game of Seitomu, Nozomi and Azurin was to row out to sea with Abi, then shapeshift and hide under the boat while Abi had to guess where they were before they jumped out at her. So it was no surprise that in addition to liking boats Abi could swim very well and wasn''t at all afraid of the water.


    Unfortunately she wasn''t a good enough swimmer to swim all the way back to the shore if she jumped overboard. And jumping overboard looked more and more like the only option she had left.


    "Sit up straight! Don''t slouch! Raise your head! Lower your chin!


    Aunt Jiarl¨²r barked orders at her every time she dared to relax. Abi had to hold herself as stiff as a board for ages. She contemplated the pros and cons of turning into a phoenix and flying away. Alas, the boat was made of wood, and they were in Aunt Jiarl¨²r''s cabin. She might accidentally set the whole place on fire if she transformed. Now if she was up on deck, that might be a different matter.


    Abi was jolted out of considering the possibilities of transforming on deck by the next question flung at her. It wasn''t enough her aunt had to torment her with criticising her posture. Next she moved on to interrogating her about their destination.


    "Who is the current king of Gengxin?"


    "King Shi Zheng," Abi said through gritted teeth. Keeping her back ramrod straight like this was downright painful.


    "Which of his sons have died?"


    "Three of them."


    That was not a satisfactory answer. Aunt Jiarl¨²r glared at her. "I mean their titles."


    How was Abi supposed to think of that when she couldn''t even breathe without getting yelled at? "The Crown Prince and two others." She racked her brain for the right answer. "The Second Prince and... the Fourth Prince?"


    "Fifth Prince." Aunt Jiarl¨²r made it sound like forgetting a number was a terrible crime. "What are their names?"


    Gods above, does she really think I know that? "Zi Xiao, Zi Gang--"


    "Zi Guang."


    Abi took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. Don''t murder your aunt, she told herself. "Zi Guang and Zi Qing."


    Aunt Jiarl¨²r sniffed. She almost looked disappointed that Abi had only gotten one name wrong. "What is the proper way to greet the king?"


    Finally an easy question. "By bowing."


    "How many times must you bow?"


    Abi took a wild guess. "Once?"


    Her aunt looked utterly appalled. "Most certainly not! You must bow ten times! And you will practice right now!"


    It took an amazing amount of self-restraint for Abi not to hurl herself right through the window and into the sea below.

 Chapter XXII: Face to Face

    Sometimes a ghost is a ghost but other times a ghost is the prominent absence of a ghost. -- Unknown


    The delegation from Saoridhl¨¦m was expected to arrive within the hour. Preparations were well underway to welcome them and escort them to their rooms. The funerals would be held tomorrow. In all likelihood Lian would barely get to see the visitors, much less talk to them. He wasn''t invited to the funeral itself. He would be somewhere in the rear of the procession, far away from them.


    Common sense told Lian he should avoid them. He would only open a can of worms that he could never close again. But for so many years he''d lived anonymously, moving from place to place and changing his name so many times he could hardly tell what his real name was. It was a lonely existence. And he had to admit he was curious. What stories were told about him back home? Was he remembered at all?


    Zi Yao didn''t go to the welcoming ceremony, so neither did Lian. Mirio and Lady Yuan did, which left Lian without anyone to talk to. He had nothing to do but think. So he thought. And thought. And thought.


    Mainly he thought about Abihira. Was Mirio''s description of her accurate? He must be exaggerating or she would never be allowed to go on a diplomatic mission. If Lian met her and talked to her, if he told her everything, what would she say? She probably wouldn''t believe him. Why should she? She had no memory of him and he had only the faintest memory of her. No, it was better to leave well enough alone. He would do nothing but cause trouble for himself.


    Lian''s thoughts turned to the curse. Whoever was responsible for it had to pay. He didn''t know who they were yet or if they really didn''t intend to cast it again, but they had cursed Zi Yao. They could have killed every other prince if they wanted to and Lian wouldn''t have cared. But not Zi Yao. Lian would hunt them down for that. Even if it took him a hundred years, five hundred, ten thousand, he would find them and make them suffer.


    Zi Yao was fast asleep. Lian kept a much closer eye on him than usual to make sure he really was recovered. His temperature was normal and his spots had disappeared. But even so the slightest change in his breathing snapped Lian out of his thoughts instantly.


    Yes, whoever had tried to kill Zi Yao would suffer for it. Lian usually killed people quickly. But when he got his hands on them he would make sure they had the slowest, most painful death he could invent.


    <hr>


    Normally Abi was curious when she arrived in a new place for the first time. She would explore everywhere she could and familiarise herself with where she was. Not this time. With Aunt Jiarl¨²r''s looming presence beside her she didn''t even dare look up. Abi tried to remember everything her aunt had yelled at her.


    Bow ten times. Hold your hands in front of you with one placed on top of the other. Do not raise your head unless commanded to. Do not speak unless you are specifically addressed. And above all do not try to speak Gengxinese! The language is notoriously difficult for Saoridhians who haven''t studied it for years. Speak Saoridhin and let the translator relay what you said.


    Well, she was in no danger of breaking those last commands. She hadn''t dared to open her mouth since they got off the ship. Aunt Jiarl¨²r had elbowed her -- very hard -- in the ribs the only time she tried.


    Dimly Abi was aware there was a large crowd gathered in the throne room. She tried to ignore their existence. The fear of Aunt Jiarl¨²r''s displeasure was bad enough without worrying about what a crowd of strangers thought of her.


    She didn''t even notice when the welcoming ceremony was over until Aunt Jiarl¨²r elbowed her in the ribs again. Abi bit her tongue to stop herself crying out. Did her aunt have bludgeons attached to her elbows? At this rate she''d have broken ribs before the day was over.


    Keep your mouth shut, she told herself as she got up. Don''t look up. Just follow dear old auntie.


    She hoped there wouldn''t be any fish-ponds around the palace like there were in Seroyawa. If there were, she''d have real trouble resisting the urge to throw her aunt into one.


    <hr>


    There was only one good thing about this whole sorry mess. Lian could cross the Noble Royal Consort off the list of suspects. Both of her sons had died. So now he had a place to start his investigation. The queen was the only other woman to lose a child, and she still had two living children after Zi Xiao''s death. Which of the royal family disliked the Noble Royal Consort enough to kill both of her children?


    It was a long list. None of the concubines liked each other and none of the princes or princesses liked their mothers'' rivals.


    While Zi Yao was asleep Lian went out to check the other palaces for any traces of evidence. He slipped in and out without the guards ever seeing him. Nothing. Not a single trace of the curse.


    On his way back he rounded a corner and saw Mirio talking to a Saoridhian girl. Lian dived back behind the corner. He glanced around to make sure no one had seen him. Carefully he peered out. The two of them were walking in the direction of the palace gardens.


    "She''s a complete nightmare!" the girl was saying in Saoridhin.


    "I can''t imagine what that''s like," Mirio said in the same language. He kept his face perfectly straight even though his voice was laden with sarcasm.


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    They disappeared from view. Lian ventured out of his hiding place and stared after them in confusion. The girl had to be Abihira. But why was she surrounded by an aura of dark magic?


    <hr>


    Talking to Mirio was the first peace Abi had gotten since leaving Saoridhl¨¦m. Not coincidentally, it was also the first time Aunt Jiarl¨²r had left her alone. She complained at length about how she was treated. Mirio listened with the blank expression that suggested he was trying not to laugh.


    "You brought all of this on yourself," he said when she was finished.


    Abi scowled. "I know, but couldn''t you be a bit more sympathetic?"


    As she spoke she absently fiddled with the locket around her neck. Her aunt had insisted she wear it because it contained photos of her parents. Apparently Aunt Jiarl¨²r sincerely believed that would stop Abi doing anything to embarrass them. To be blunt it only annoyed her. She wasn''t used to wearing necklaces all day and it was heavy. Without noticing what she was doing she snapped it open then closed it again several times, just so her hands had something to do. She only became aware of it when she noticed Mirio was staring at the locket with a confused look on his face.


    "Could I see those photos?" he asked.


    Bemused, Abi took off the locket and held it out. She opened it and pointed to the photos. "That one''s my mother and that''s my father. When they were children, obviously."


    Mirio looked from the photos to Abi and back again. "Your parents?"


    What''s gotten into him? "Yes? Is there something wrong with that?"


    Mirio hardly seemed to hear her. He was muttering something in Seroyawan under his breath. Abi could just catch the words, "Makes no sense."


    Louder he said, "It''s nothing. I just thought I''d seen those photos before."


    He had certainly seen pictures of Abi''s parents before, and he had probably seen these specific ones, but she had a feeling this was about something more than just recognising the photos.


    "Did you know there''s a Saoridhian doctor living here?" Mirio said.


    Abi closed the locket and went along with the change of subject. "No. Why''s he here? Aren''t there enough doctors in Gengxin?"


    <hr>


    A girl playing with a dog. A boy sitting on a swing. A boy with a familiar smile. Mirio could have kicked himself. Why hadn''t he realised before? He recognised that smile because it was similar to Abi''s!


    Which raised many important questions. Why did Lian have childhood photos of Abi''s parents and why did he say they were his?


    Mirio firmly refused to consider the obvious answer. It was ridiculous. Not only that, it was utterly implausible. He''d met all of Abi''s siblings. If she had another brother she would have mentioned it.


    After saying goodbye to Abi he went straight back to Zi Yao''s palace and knocked Lian''s door. No answer. Casting politeness aside, Mirio pushed the door open and stepped in. The room was empty. Lian''s diary sat on the bedside table. Next to it were those photos. They were exactly the same as the ones Abi had shown him a few minutes ago.


    There was just the faintest hint of a resemblance between Abi''s mother and Lian. No matter how hard Mirio thought about it he had to admit there was no resemblance at all between Abi herself and Lian. Probably there was a good explanation. Maybe Lian had noticed the slight resemblance and decided to pass himself off as a royal.


    But that makes no sense either because he never claimed to be royal.


    None of this made sense. It felt like he had stumbled into the middle of someone else''s family scandal.


    <hr>


    After Mirio left Abi opened the locket again and studied the photos. There was nothing odd about them. Certainly nothing that should have provoked such a strange reaction. Unless Mirio had gained an intense dislike of Saoridhin fashions from her parents'' childhood -- and honestly she wouldn''t blame him; those puffed sleeves and hedgehog-like hairstyles were utterly ridiculous -- he shouldn''t have reacted like that. It was a mystery.


    Abi shrugged and fastened the locket around her neck again. Oh well. It wasn''t really important.


    She wandered slowly back through the gardens. She was in no hurry to see Aunt Jiarl¨²r again, but if she stayed out for much longer she just knew another lecture was in store for her. The path led past flowerbeds full of brightly-coloured flowers she couldn''t name. Every few minutes Abi stopped to examine one. In spite of her delaying tactics she reached the edge of the gardens far too quickly.


    The gardens were surrounded by a river. At the edge of the garden was a stone bridge. Abi stopped short when she saw someone was already on the bridge. They were leaning against the wall and staring down at the river.


    I hope they don''t try to talk to me, she thought. The only words of Gengxinese she knew were "Hello" and "Goodbye".


    The person turned as Abi approached. To her surprise she saw they weren''t Gengxinese even though their clothes were.


    This must be the doctor Mirio mentioned, she thought.


    She didn''t particularly want to talk to anyone right now, not even another Saoridhian, so she bowed and said nothing. He returned her bow and, thank the gods, also stayed silent. He turned back to the river and apparently ignored her existence. As she tried to pass him she felt a strange heaviness in the atmosphere. It was almost like the presence of... Her eyes widened. It was exactly like the presence of dark magic.


    Abi stopped short just beside the doctor. He spun round as abruptly as if he expected her to attack him. The two of them stared at each other. Abi almost forgot about the dark magic when she got a good look at his face.


    His eyes were the most vivid shade of silver she''d ever seen.


    The memory of Imrahil''s portrait came rushing back. Her mind superimposed the portrait over the doctor''s face and she saw their eyes were exactly the same. Their faces were similar yet with enough differences for her to be unsure if they were the same person, but their eyes...


    Imrahil was dead. Imrahil was dead and drowned and his body had never been recovered. He was dead.


    Abi stumbled back. She collided with the wall of the bridge. For a terrible dizzying moment she felt as if she was about to fall. Then the stranger grabbed her sleeve and pulled her back.


    "What''s wrong?" he asked in Saoridhian. Saoridhian that had a distinct upper-class accent. It was exactly like her parents'' and siblings'' accent.


    There was a moment''s silence. Abi opened and closed her mouth. She couldn''t think of anything to say. The stranger watched her all the time like she was a bug under a microscope. Then he smiled, bitterly and humourlessly.


    "You look like you''ve seen a ghost," he remarked.


    Abi glared at him. In light of how shaken his appearance had left her, that comment seemed to be in rather bad taste. "I was just wondering why you''re surrounded by dark magic."


    The stranger''s smile disappeared. He stared at her coldly. "How strange. I was wondering why you''re surrounded by dark magic. And not just any dark magic either, is it?" His smile came back again. He tilted his head to the side like a bird. "Whatever have you been doing meddling with necromancy?"


    END OF BOOK 3

 Book 4: The Mantis, the Cicada and the Oriole

    BOOK FOUR: THE MANTIS, THE CICADA AND THE ORIOLE


    ó«ò벶²õ£¬»ÆȸÔÚºó (t¨¢ng l¨¢ng b¨³ ch¨¢n, hu¨¢ng qu¨¨ z¨¤i h¨°u)


    Chinese, "the mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind". Idiom meaning to pursue gains in front of you while ignoring danger behind.


    When you read the account of a murder - or, say, a fiction story based on murder - you usually begin with the murder itself. That''s all wrong. The murder begins a long time beforehand. A murder is the culmination of a lot of different circumstances, all converging at a given moment at a given point. People are brought into it from different parts of the globe and for unforeseen reasons. [...] The murder itself is the end of the story. It''s Zero Hour. -- Agatha Christie, Towards Zero


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 Chapter I: Imrahil

    "When he passed me in the restaurant," he said at last, "I had a curious impression. It was as though a wild animal ¨C an animal savage, but savage! you understand ¨C had passed me by."


    "And yet he looked altogether of the most respectable."


    "Pr¨¦cis¨¦ment! The body ¨C the cage ¨C is everything of the most respectable ¨C but through the bars, the wild animal looks out."


    -- Agatha Christie, Murder on the Orient Express


    The first son of Princess Hartanna and Prince Consort Mihasrin was born in the middle of summer. He was a strange baby, rarely crying and never smiling. As he grew older he smiled more, but no one ever saw him laugh or cry. His parents never noticed anything wrong with him. His older relatives -- aunts, uncles, and his half-brother -- did. If they tried to mention it to the boy''s parents they''d be laughed at or told to mind their own business. So most of his relatives shrugged and dismissed their worries. Every family had at least one member who was slightly odd. It didn''t mean there was anything truly wrong with him.


    His half-brother Gilreon was the exception. He looked at Imrahil and knew there was something terribly wrong here.


    The trouble was, if someone came up to him and asked him point blank what was wrong, he couldn''t give an answer. It was a hundred tiny things, all unremarkable on their own but which added up to something sinister. It was the way Imrahil as a toddler had a terrible temper but no he never showed any negative emotion stronger than mild disapproval. It was the way he stared at blood as if it was the most interesting thing he''d ever seen. It was the way he was abnormally fond of hunting. It was the moments when Gilreon met Imrahil''s eyes and saw nothing behind them -- or rather saw something so incredibly dark and ancient it was more comforting to think he saw nothing. It was the way he seemed to lower the temperature of a room just by walking into it. It was the way he occasionally caught Imrahil staring at him with a cold, calculating look that belonged on an adult''s face, not an adolescent''s.


    It was almost a relief when the mask fell away. It was proof that Gilreon hadn''t imagined it all.


    No one in Kelth¨ªr Palace would ever forget that day. A month ago Uncle Vadhleo had given Imrahil a rabbit. It was an adorable little thing that always reminded Gilreon of a lokmor flower[1]. Imrahil had smiled and thanked his uncle for the present. He''d taken care of it and seemed fond of it.


    On a bright, cheerful morning a maid went out to the garden and found Imrahil kneeling on the ground. He held a carving knife and his hands were soaked with blood. The rabbit lay dead in front of him. Its chest was sliced open.


    <hr>


    "Why did you kill the rabbit?"


    Gilreon had never seen his mother so shaken. In the background his stepfather looked like he''d seen a ghost. Imrahil was the only person present who behaved as if nothing was wrong.


    "I wanted to see what would happen," he said in his usual calm, even voice.


    That voice had always unsettled Gilreon. He''d never been able to explain why before. Now he knew. It seemed to belong to someone much older than Imrahil. It was better suited to an adult than a child.


    "You can''t go around killing things just to see what will happen!" Mihasrin snapped. He was even paler than normal. He held onto his chair''s arms like a drowning man would hold onto a rope, and his hands were shaking.


    Imrahil blinked slowly. "Why not?"


    <hr>


    The first son of Princess Hartanna and Prince Consort Mihasrin was born in the middle of summer. A good omen, according to Saoridhin superstition. The priests and soothsayers told his parents that his birthdate meant he would have a long, peaceful life, and he was probably the reincarnation of a well-respected ancestor. Those remarks were reflected in his kelros-name Kirvoki[2] and erlor-name Imrahil[3].


    Tradition and superstition said that children born in summer were warm and sunny people who felt things strongly. It was strange, then, that Imrahil always felt cold.


    For as long as he could remember he had never known any warmth. His skin was cooler than his cousins'' and no amount of blankets or heating spells would ever warm him. And he had never felt anything strongly in his life. It was as if there was a wall somewhere deep inside him and all his emotions were on the other side of it. He could feel them faintly but not like other children did.


    His cousins cried and laughed at a moment''s notice, threw tantrums when things didn''t go their way, declared undying devotion to each other one day and deadly enmity the next. Imrahil never felt any of that.


    "What a well-behaved little boy," strangers would tell his parents.


    "We''ve never had a minute''s trouble with him," his mother would say proudly. "He''s a perfect little angel."


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    Some less polite adults would praise his behaviour, then remark on his eye colour. "Of course silver is a nice colour, but... well, his eyes are such a vivid silver."


    Imrahil took note of everything that was said about him. He paid close attention to what made adults praise him and what made them slightly... not nervous exactly, but uncomfortable. And then he avoided the things that made them uncomfortable and did only the things that made them happy. His eye colour unnerved people, so he avoided eye contact unless he wanted to unnerve them.


    His cousins and playmates dismissed him as an unbearable stuck-up little prig playing at being older than he was. He knew on an intellectual level that their comments were rude and should hurt him. But he didn''t feel anything at all. They were unimportant and could do nothing to him. All that mattered was staying on good terms with the people who were important. His parents thought he was the perfect son. He had to keep playing that part. He had to be better than perfect.


    Only one person looked at him and knew he was acting. Gilreon was in an odd position. Imrahil didn''t know where exactly to classify him. He was technically the same generation as Imrahil and his cousins, therefore not worthy of notice. But he was over five hundred years older than Imrahil and therefore technically an adult who should be impressed by his "perfect" half-brother. He wasn''t impressed. He watched Imrahil constantly, waiting for him to slip up. It was exhausting and it made Imrahil want to scream and throw things and claw at Gilreon''s eyes until he stopped watching him--


    At some point in his childhood Imrahil reached an age where his bones felt too heavy and his skin felt too tight. Light hurt his eyes. His teeth seemed too sharp and too blunt at the same time, and his tongue tied itself in knots when he tried to speak. The sun was too hot and it blazed down on him relentlessly. Imrahil just wanted to lie down somewhere and sleep. But his parents insisted on taking him to visit his great-aunt, and the perfect son would never complain.


    That visit stood out in his mind for what happened before they left. His great-aunt cut him a slice of cake, but her hand slipped and the knife was sharper than she thought.


    Imrahil stared at the blood dripping onto the table and couldn''t take his eyes off it. He felt as if he had been hungry all his life and only knew now what he was hungry for. The blood was so bright and so red and he.


    Was.


    So.


    Hungry.


    He stood rooted to the spot for what felt like an eternity but must have been only a second. Then his mother shooed him out of the way as she offered her aunt a handkerchief. Imrahil staggered over to the window. His teeth were sharp against the inside of his mouth and his gums hurt.


    <hr>


    There was a legend in Saoridhl¨¦m. When the gods created immortals, an evil god meddled with the creations and turned some of them into monsters that hungered for the flesh or blood of their own kind. There was no way to tell who was a monster. They could be born from ordinary immortals. In some cases ordinary immortals could become monsters. But there was no way to turn a monster into an immortal. When a monster was discovered, it had to be killed.


    Imrahil lay awake all that night. He wasn''t afraid, or upset, or even particularly surprised. He felt somehow as if he''d been reminded of something he''d always known. All that remained was to find out what to do with his new knowledge.


    <hr>


    He didn''t really want to hurt the rabbit. He just wanted to find out if he reacted to its blood in the same way. And once he cut it he couldn''t stop.


    <hr>


    "Why did you kill the rabbit?"


    "I wanted to see what would happen."


    "You can''t go around killing things just to see what will happen!"


    "Why not?"


    <hr>


    The answer, it turned out, was that if Imrahil killed animals he would never be considered the perfect son again. It was so much more comfortable to be considered "perfect" than to have people mutter "there''s something wrong with that boy", and he knew the latter would happen if he stopped playing his part.


    So he behaved normally for years, while he quietly began experimenting with different sorts of magic behind his parents'' back. A small secluded clearing in the forest behind his house was the perfect place to test spells on various plants and animals.


    He didn''t intend to start studying necromancy. He just wanted to make a bird obey him. And it was so much easier to kill the bird and puppeteer its corpse than to let it live and have to fight against its will to escape.


    When he released his control on the bird it flew back up into the tree overhead and squawked indignantly down at him. Imrahil blinked. He''d snapped its neck. It had been dead and shouldn''t be moving around without his magic controlling it. He reached out warily with his magic and found the bird was both alive and perfectly healthy. There wasn''t so much as a fracture in its neck.


    This required more investigation.


    <hr>


    Imrahil didn''t feel pain as much as ordinary immortals did. All the same, he felt some mild trepidation about the prospect of cutting open his own wrist. He took a glass of jarage before he picked up the knife.


    (Sometimes he wondered what would happen if he drank blood. Would he stay the same or become a ravenous monster? He had no way of finding out except by trying, and he wasn''t ready to take that risk yet.)


    The knife had been sharpened this morning before he "borrowed" it from the kitchen. It sliced through his skin easily. He watched the blood stream to the ground with mild curiosity. It turned out that the sight of his own blood didn''t produce any sort of reaction.


    He willed the wound to close. Before his eyes the skin knitted itself back together. There wasn''t even a slight scar to show where he had cut.


    I never heard of dark magic being used to heal, he thought. Then he had another thought. I wonder if I can use it to keep myself alive.


    In hindsight it was a terrible idea. It was where everything went catastrophically wrong. But he had just succeeded in healing a potentially fatal injury, and the thought of death didn''t frighten him.


    He willed his heartbeat to stop. It slowed. It faded. It stopped. Minutes passed and he was still alive in spite of his lack of heartbeat. Then he willed it to start again. Slowly it returned to normal.


    Imrahil stood up and walked around to make sure he wasn''t suffering any side effects. Apart from a slight numbness in his chest he felt perfectly fine.


    Now, what in the world was he to do with this new power?

 Chapter II: Brother and Sister

    I have to remind myself to breathe -- almost to remind my heart to beat! -- Emily Bront?, Wuthering Heights


    The tea was too hot for Abi''s taste. She watched the steam rise from its surface as if it was the most interesting thing she''d ever seen. She took note of things she''d never considered worthy of notice before. The teacup was white and painted with blue flowers. It was the sort of teacup that had a lid[1] -- something that before now she''d only seen in Mirio''s house, or when the Gengxinese ambassador was visiting. The tea was a blend she didn''t recognise, and it smelled much sweeter than anything she was used to.


    The person opposite her set his teacup down with a faint clink. Abi didn''t have to look up to know he was staring at her. She could feel the weight of his stare like something pressing down on her. It was deeply uncomfortable.


    Everything that happened since the meeting in the garden was a blur in Abi''s mind. She couldn''t remember how she had ended up in a tea shop in a part of the city frequented by foreign tourists, or if she had said anything to her... to the... What was he, anyway? The logical part of her mind refused to accept the evidence of her eyes. Imrahil was dead. Imrahil had drowned years ago--


    And his body was never found, a little voice whispered. He has no grave. Just a memorial with his name on it.


    The shop was warm but Abi shuddered. She wasn''t sure if she was cold or if it was the effect of the stranger staring at her so intently. Part of her wanted to yell at him to stop. Another part wanted to ignore him in the vain hope that maybe he would go away. Most of her just wanted the world to start making sense again.


    This morning Abi had thought she''d know everything about herself and her family. She was the ninth child of Hartanna and Mihasrin. She had an older half-brother and her oldest full brother had died tragically when she was a child. She was the most scandalous person in her family. Now everything she thought she''d known had been uprooted. She could hardly have felt more confused if the sun had risen in the west, or if she''d drunk water and found it was dry.


    A small group of musicians in the corner played a tune she faintly recognised. A noisy party of foreign tourists -- from Ublad, judging by their language -- sat at the next table. Steam still rose from the surface of Abi''s tea. She picked up the cup and took a sip, carefully avoiding looking at the stranger opposite her.


    Aunt Jiarl¨²r would be looking for her soon. Maybe she was already turning the Gengxinese palace upside down, trying to find Abi and not knowing she wasn''t there. Aunt Jiarl¨²r, who would immediately recognise her long-lost and supposedly-dead nephew. Abi trembled at the thought of what would happen if her aunt ever met-- But that was ridiculous. The man sitting opposite her wasn''t Imrahil. He was just a very strange foreigner living in the Gengxinese court. She''d just been tricked by a passing resemblance to a portrait. Even if Imrahil was still alive, it was impossible he''d look exactly like a portrait painted over a thousand years ago. And people didn''t just stumble upon long-lost siblings. It was all ridiculous and it made her head hurt to think about.


    She was so lost in her thoughts that it gave her a start when the stranger finally spoke.


    "Aren''t you going to say anything?"


    His voice was quiet and even, and he spoke Saoridhian with an upper-class accent. Her parents'' accent. Abi flinched involuntarily. Then she forced herself to look up and meet his eyes.


    Even though she''d only seen his portrait once, Imrahil''s face was stamped on her memory. If she''d been given a pencil and a piece of paper she could have drawn him. She stared at the stranger and it was like seeing the portrait again. He was thinner and paler, but that was the only difference between them. His eyes were still pure silver and unusually large. With a jolt she realised they were the exact same shape as her grandfather''s. There was something about the shape of his nose and mouth that reminded her of her mother.


    And dark magic hung around him like a cloak.


    "What is there to say?" Her voice seemed to come from very far away.


    The stranger -- Imrahil? -- shrugged. There was something bizarrely reminiscent of Arafaren in the gesture. Abi felt as if she was looking at a curious patchwork of various relatives she recognised, all mixed up together in the strangest person she''d ever met.


    "Aren''t you curious about who am I? Or what happened?"


    No, Abi realised with a dull sort of surprise. She wasn''t curious. For the first time in her life she''d found something best left alone and had no desire to meddle in it. But this time it wouldn''t leave her alone.


    "Who...?" she began. Her throat closed up and she couldn''t say anything else.


    "Here I''m known as Lian. I''ve had many other names and lived in many other places before, but they aren''t important now. As for what happened--" He abruptly held out his hand. Abi instinctively started back before she realised he was neither giving her something nor trying to strike her. He simply offered her his hand and pulled his sleeve back from his wrist. "Take my pulse."


    It was a strange request. But this day was so surreal already that Abi, after considering it for a minute, decided it was harmless enough and she might as well do it. She reached out gingerly and pressed her fingers against his wrist. His skin was oddly cold to the touch. And his pulse... She frowned. She moved her fingers to different parts of his wrist. A horrible sinking feeling took up residence inside her chest. She looked at him and found him staring at her again.


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    "Yes," he said as calmly as if there was nothing unusual about a man walking around without a heartbeat. "Do you understand now?"


    No, Abi wanted to say. But at the same time she was beginning to piece some things together.


    Lian was surrounded by dark magic and had no heartbeat. It seemed impossible -- especially since all stories of creatures kept alive by dark magic described them as starving monsters like the parasite that had possessed Ilaran. However, she couldn''t deny what she''d felt. From there it was easy to deduce Imrahil had done something involving dark magic that had led to him being presumed dead.


    It seemed Abi had much more in common with her brother than she had ever suspected.


    "And on that subject," Lian -- Imrahil? How was she supposed to think of him? -- continued, "I know why I use dark magic. Why do you use it?"


    Abi stared at him. She felt a sudden wild and completely out-of-place desire to laugh. She restrained it because she had an uneasy feeling that if she started she wouldn''t be able to stop, and this wasn''t the time or place for a nervous breakdown. How was she supposed to answer? "I tried to learn necromancy and got two people killed"? Just thinking about necromancy made her feel sick. It brought back the memory of the parasite and the woman it killed.


    "I''m not using it any more," was all she said.


    She drank the rest of her tea in one go, wincing slightly at how it was now lukewarm, and got up abruptly. "I want to go--" Home, she almost said, but home was miles away. "I want to go back to the palace now. My aunt will be looking for me."


    <hr>


    Lian said nothing during the walk back to the palace. Abi was too caught up in her thoughts to speak and didn''t know what she would say anyway.


    They separated at the path leading to the guest palace where Aunt Jiarl¨²r and Abi were staying. Lian spoke up suddenly as Abi turned to leave.


    "You may not be using it any more, but it''s still part of you."


    Abi froze. Slowly she turned and stared at him. He stared back at her with a puzzled frown, as if she was a jigsaw that was more complicated than he expected.


    "What are you talking about?"


    "Dark magic. It''s as much a part of you as your ordinary magic. I''m surprised no one else has noticed. And it''s active, as if something''s feeding off it."


    He''s trying to scare you, part of Abi''s brain tried to reassure her. What reason does he have to lie? another part asked.


    Abi turned and practically ran to the palace without a backwards glance.


    Aunt Jiarl¨²r was waiting for her. "There you are, you wretched girl! Have you any idea how worried I was? Where were you?"


    "With Mirio," Abi said faintly. "I have a headache. I want to have a rest."


    Her aunt opened her mouth. Then she closed it again and looked very closely at Abi. Lian''s words came back to her. I''m surprised no one else has noticed. Abi flinched and pushed past her aunt. She ran to her room and locked the door. Then she collapsed onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.


    This is a dream, she thought dizzily. It''s all-- Everything after the festival is a dream. I''ll wake up and I''ll be at home. The memory of Death''s throne room and Death herself came back to her. On second thoughts, she couldn''t have dreamt that. Her thoughts flew away to a different subject. He''s lying. He''s not really my brother. There''s nothing wrong with my magic. It''s over, it''s all over. I''ll never touch necromancy again.


    Part of her mind repeated its earlier question. What reason does he have to lie?


    Abi didn''t feel tired, but the bewildering twists and turns of her thoughts and the even more bewildering last hour left her exhausted. She fell asleep within minutes.


    <hr>


    All things considered that went rather well, Lian thought optimistically.


    Abihira hadn''t called him a liar or thrown a tantrum. Nor had she insisted on the sort of overly-sentimental tearful reunion that always accompanied long-lost siblings meeting in plays. She was shocked, but not quite as much as he''d expected -- or rather she was shocked for a different reason. She was clearly aware that she had an older brother and knew what he looked like -- enough to recognise him on sight. Strange; he''d thought his family had done their best to pretend he never existed. He hadn''t expected them to talk about him or keep his portrait on display.


    It was odd about her magic, though. Lian had seen that sort of magic once before, in an assassin who controlled poisonous snakes. She had never let go of her control on the snakes, even when they weren''t with her. And the spell she used constantly fed off her magic.


    Lian had learnt to notice other people''s magic over the years, and he knew when someone was actively using a spell. Abihira had essentially cast a spell that sustained itself on her magic -- and she apparently wasn''t aware of it. But what was the spell? What was her magic doing without her knowledge?


    When he returned to the Ninth Prince''s Palace he stopped by Zi Yao''s room to check on him. Zi Yao was sleeping. His temperature was normal and there was no cause to worry. Lian went to his own room. He opened the door and stopped. He bowed after only a second''s hesitation.


    "Your Highness."


    Mirio looked up. There was a coldness in his eyes that Lian had never seen before, and he was holding...


    Oh. When Mirio last saw the photos of Lian''s parents he hadn''t seemed to recognise them. Obviously he had now. Meeting Abihira must have reminded him.


    Lian stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. No point in letting the servants hear everything. It would be all over the palace within hours if they did. Mirio put the photos back on the table and stood up. An uncomfortable silence fell.


    "What do you think they mean?" Lian asked at last. Mirio blinked in confusion. Lian elaborated, "The photos. You must have some theory about them."


    Slowly Mirio said, "I have. But nothing I''ve thought of makes any sense."


    "Then ask me. I''ll tell you the truth." It struck Lian suddenly that he''d wanted Mirio to figure everything out. He just hadn''t expected the awkwardness that would inevitably follow.


    With surprising bluntness Mirio asked, "Are you Abi''s brother?"


    "Yes."


    "...Does she know?"


    "Yes. I''ve just talked to her."


    Mirio relaxed slightly. "I suppose it''s none of my business. But I think of Abi as my real sister, not just as a foster sister, and I will do my best to protect her if at all possible. So I must ask: what did you do to get banished?"


    "What makes you assume I was banished?"


    "No one has ever mentioned your existence. Either you''re illegitimate, in which case you would only have a photo of one of Abi''s parents, or you did something scandalous. And if it was scandalous enough to ensure no one ever spoke of you again, then..."


    "You''re afraid I''ll be a bad influence?" Lian finished. "Or that I''m dangerous? What I did was... Well, it was very simple, really. I meddled in necromancy and accidentally killed myself. Then I brought myself back to life."

 Chapter III: Telepathy

    The very thing you''re best at


    Is the thing that hurts the most


    -- Florence + The Machine, King


    Abi''s dreams were as muddled and confused as her thoughts when she was awake. One minute she was playing with Arafaren, the next she was back in Ilaran''s memories. Then both got tangled up and she found herself in Ilaran''s place, staring up at the sky from the bottom of a well while Arafaren lay in Nuvildu''s place. Then the scene changed again and she saw Ilaran kill his father, but instead of Ilaran it was Lian wielding the sword.


    Then abruptly all of the confused memories disappeared and she blinked owlishly around at a large and rather cluttered room. It was a room she''d seen before but couldn''t quite place. Whoever it belonged to had stacked piles of books everywhere. On the tables, on the chairs, even on the floor. How anyone could navigate the room without tripping was a mystery.


    Abi looked around without any real surprise. Her dreams were so strange that this seemed perfectly normal. Nor was she particularly surprised when the door opened and Ilaran walked in. Without looking in her direction he picked up some of the books, checked their titles, and left the room with them. Abi idly picked up the nearest book and flipped through it. The cover felt exactly like a real book. So did the pages. She was mildly surprised to find it was perfectly intelligible and utterly boring. It was a record of harvests in a town she''d never heard of.


    Why am I dreaming about this? she wondered.


    She sat down in the nearest chair, half-expecting it to turn into a tiger or a cloud or something equally dream-like. But it felt exactly like an ordinary chair.


    Ilaran came back into the room. He stopped abruptly and stared in Abi''s direction. It took her a minute to realise this was because he was actually looking at her -- and from his expression, first startled and then annoyed, he could clearly see her. An unpleasant suspicion began to dawn on her.


    "Is this real?" Abi asked.


    Ilaran grimaced. "Unfortunately yes."


    She blinked. "You don''t seem surprised."


    "You dragged me into your mind a few days ago. I''m not surprised the reverse has happened."


    This was news to Abi. "I did what? When? How?"


    "You were talking to your brother about your other brother," Ilaran said shortly. It took Abi a minute to realise what he was talking about. How ironic that he''d witnessed a conversation about Imrahil. "As for how, I think it''s obvious enough. Both of us have found out much more about each other than we ever wanted to know."


    Abi winced as she remembered her trip through Ilaran''s memories. "How do we undo it?"


    Ilaran shrugged helplessly. For the first time it dawned on Abi that he looked exhausted. Not as bad as when he''d been possessed, but not a whole lot better either. "I tried strengthening my mental shields. Apparently it worked, since I haven''t been dragged into your mind again. I suggest you do the same." He paused and stared at her. "...Is something wrong? You look terrible."


    Even though she''d thought much the same thing about him, Abi felt offended at this remark. "I just learnt that my other brother is still alive and he doesn''t have a heartbeat."


    The baffled look on Ilaran''s face almost made up for the confusion of the last few hours.


    <hr>


    Over the years Mirio had perfected the art of speaking calmly while internally screaming. It was a necessary survival skill when dealing with the insanity of politicians and relatives, to say nothing of Abi''s crazier schemes. Even so, it took him several minutes to collect himself enough to use it. For a while he felt like screaming aloud as well as internally. At last he conquered that urge and forced himself to speak calmly.


    "Say that again."


    Lian smiled. It was his calmest, most gentle smile. Mirio had heard enough muttered grumblings from the palace servants to know that was the expression they hated most. Oddly it was the most reassuring expression Lian could have worn under the circumstances. Mirio had worn a similar smile often enough to recognise it as a desperate attempt to stay calm in an unpleasant situation when what he really wanted was to run away and let someone else deal with it. In light of what Lian had just said, it was downright bizarre to realise he was as uncomfortable as Mirio.


    "I said I meddled in necromancy and accidentally killed myself. Then I -- also accidentally -- brought myself back to life. Actually, you might say I annoyed Death into bringing me back. She doesn''t have a high opinion of necromancers. In fact I suspect she went out of her way to ruin everything for me."


    Lian made a good attempt at sounding casual. But his voice trembled just slightly on the first sentence, and he forced himself to use an exaggeratedly calm tone towards the end. The result was stilted and betrayed his unease. With a jolt Mirio realised that the last time he had seen Lian so shaken was when Zi Yao had been cursed.


    "Explain," he ordered. He wanted to say something more, to ask if this was some monstrous joke, but he didn''t trust his voice to work and he didn''t want to do something embarrassing like scream.


    Lian opened his mouth. Then he closed it again and hesitated before he finally spoke. "Would you mind if we waited to have this conversation when Abihira is present? I would rather not have to explain it twice."


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Part of Mirio recoiled from the idea of Lian being anywhere near Abi. The rest of his brain shouted that part down. He''d seen how Lian behaved around Zi Yao and the other people in the palace. Whatever he''d done in the past, he wasn''t likely to be an immediate threat. Abi was in no danger. A woman who raised the dead could take care of herself. In fact she might even be able to control Lian; she was a necromancer, and he was apparently undead.


    "All right," he said. "But first tell me, what exactly are you?"


    Lian thought for a moment. He smiled again. This time it was the smile that suggested he was laughing at a private joke. "I don''t think there''s any word that describes what I am. I need to drink blood but I can''t survive on it alone. I can''t be killed and any injuries I receive will heal within minutes, but occasionally my body starts to fall apart and I have to heal it with necromancy. I suppose you could say I''m somewhere between a vampire, a zombie and a lich."


    <hr>


    Abi recounted the events of the last few hours. Ilaran listened. His face went through a series of complicated expressions beginning and ending at incredulity.


    "...So that''s it," she finished. "I know it sounds unbelievable -- hell, I''m struggling to believe it -- but it''s all true."


    "Don''t worry, I believe you," Ilaran said grimly. "If you were lying you''d have chosen a more plausible story. Did... Did Imrahil tell you what happened? When he was banished?"


    Abi shook her head. "Do you know?"


    Ilaran''s grim look intensified. "Not for sure. I wasn''t there and I never met him. Officially he drowned, but I heard some very wild rumours. Rumours that he had died then come back as a cannibalistic monster."


    Abi looked at Ilaran. Ilaran looked at Abi. They didn''t need telepathy to know they were both thinking along the same lines.


    "Do you think he was possessed?" Like you, she almost said, but stopped herself just in time. Some things were best never spoken of. Or thought of, for that matter.


    "I don''t know. A month ago I''d have dismissed all those rumours as nonsense."


    "He''s a doctor in Gengxin," Abi said. "I think he''s lived there for years. If he was going to turn into a monster he''d have done it by now."


    Ilaran nodded slowly. He didn''t look convinced. To be honest, neither was Abi. She made an attempt to change the subject to something less serious.


    "Has Ir¨ªm¨¦ arrived yet?"


    "Not yet. Tomorrow, I think."


    "Tell him I said hello." She paused, realising this would mean revealing the telepathy situation. "Er, on second thoughts, never mind. I suppose I''d better be going. Goodbye, and -- no offense -- I hope I don''t end up in your mind again."


    <hr>


    Kitri''s townhouse was in the market town of Thialdilorn. The nearest town was Luinnakied, nine miles away as the phoenix flies. However, the only main road connecting the two wound over and around so many hills that it added another mile to the journey and made it much longer than it should be. Dozens of farms dotted the countryside along the way.


    As soon as she was outside the town wall Kitri stopped to consider her next move. The monsters were -- hopefully, assuming the gatekeeper had done her job -- contained within the town. They were dormant, but it wasn''t safe to assume they''d remain that way for long. So she had better raise the alarm as quickly as possible. Walking all the way to Luinnakied would take too long. Better to go to one of the farms, borrow a horse, and tell them to pass the message along to their neighbours while she rode to the town.


    Destroying the skeleton''s heads killed them, she repeated over and over in her mind as she hurried to the nearest farm. Destroying the monsters'' heads is the best chance we have.


    Part of her recoiled from the idea -- the monsters had been ordinary immortals only hours ago; it would be preferable to save them rather than kill them -- but she remembered the injuries they''d sustained. Throats torn out, chests ripped open, limbs snapped off. Even if their transformation could be reversed, most of those injuries would be fatal. And the ones that weren''t would be infected by now. No, the safest and most practical thing to do was to kill them.


    When she reached the farm she found it empty. A note was pinned to the door. Gone to Thialdilorn Market, back at five. With a shudder Kitri realised that the farm''s owners had likely been killed by the monsters.


    She walked around the farmyard looking for anyone who might have been left behind. Nothing. Apparently the entire family had gone. All that was left were cows grazing in the field. The stable was empty. No hope of any help here.


    Now she had to backtrack to the main road and run along it until she found the next lane leading to a farm. It was also deserted, with a similar note explaining where the owners were and why they would never come back. With a sinking feeling Kitri began to realise that all of the farmers in the vicinity had brought their wares to market, and most of them had brought their entire families too. There was no one around who could help her. Rather than waste any more time searching, she had better walk all the way to Luinnakied as quickly as possible.


    The blazing heat of earlier was beginning to fade as the afternoon went on. The sun sank further and further towards the horizon. A chill filled the air that had nothing to do with the time. One by one the birds stopped singing while there was still plenty of light. An unnatural silence fell. It was as if the whole world was holding its breath.


    Kitri sped up. The idea of being out here when night fell was more than her nerves could stand. But by the time the sun was half-way below the horizon she was still only three miles away from Thialdilorn.


    The Fabrern River ran alongside the road here. It was too wide to ford and the bridge here was too narrow for carts laden with goods, so moored along both sides of its banks were flatboats meant to ferry farmers across. They were pulled across the river by ropes that could be operated by the person on the boat, eliminating the need for a ferryman. If necessary the boats could be anchored in place in the middle of the river, which was usually done if there was a wildfire and the boats were in danger of being burnt.


    Although the prospect of spending the night on a boat in the middle of the river was thoroughly unappealing, it was better than walking on and on and possibly being overtaken by monsters.


    Luinnakied will close its gates at sunset, Kitri told herself. Nothing will be able to get in.


    She left the main road and ran down the side-road to the riverside. The light was fading, but it was still bright enough to see the nearest boat pulled up against the dock. It was meant to accommodate a horse and cart. There was no danger of rolling over the side in the night.


    Kitri climbed onto it and untied it from the dock. She pulled the rope that controlled it. The boat slid easily away from the bank. When it was roughly in the middle of the river she stopped. There were two anchors, one at the back and one at the front. Kitri lowered both. The boat stayed in place, held by the rope and the anchors.


    The only way to reach her now was by swimming or getting another boat. Judging by the injuries sustained by the monsters she doubted they would be able to swim, and none of them had seemed intelligent enough to use a boat. This was the safest place she could be.


    Utter silence reigned as the sun fell below the horizon. The river made no noise as it flowed. There wasn''t even the sound of an owl. Kitri shuddered. She''d learnt years ago that nature was never silent unless something was wrong.


    It would be a long night.

 Chapter IV: Abi and Ilaran

    Have the gates of death been opened unto thee? or hast thou seen the doors of the shadow of death? -- Job 38:17, KJV


    Abi woke up feeling simultaneously better and worse than when she''d gone to sleep. On the one hand Ilaran had confirmed that he believed Lian''s story. On the other, she now had to deal with the fact that she and Ilaran were somehow telepathically linked. Then of course -- she almost thought "on the other hand" again, but then she remembered she''d run out of hands -- there was the possibility that Lian was possessed and might become a monster like the parasite -- or that he had been possessed at some point in the past, and in that case who had exorcised the parasite? Unless they were a phoenix immortal too, Abi sincerely doubted they''d destroyed it as thoroughly as she had.


    For several minutes she lay still, trying to wrap her mind around the chaos of recent events. A sliver of doubt wormed its way to the front of her thoughts. Had she actually met and spoken to Ilaran telepathically or had that been another dream? Had everything, Lian included, been a dream?


    At the back of her mind she could feel a faint telepathic presence. It was so distant that it took her a while to notice it. At first she mistook it for her aunt somewhere else in the palace. Then she realised that it was something different. Curiously she reached out to it. Her telepathy brushed against someone else''s. She felt someone''s surprise, then alarm, then mingled horror and dismay.


    Abihira? Is that you? Ilaran''s voice asked.


    Abi''s eyes snapped open and she sat up abruptly. In her room in Saoridhl¨¦m there was a map on the wall. She instinctively looked for it and felt initial confusion to find a painting of birds flying over a mountain instead. Then she remembered she was in Gengxin. Oh well. Even without checking on a map, she was absolutely certain that Tananerl was miles and miles away. Across the ocean, in fact. It should be impossible--


    Yes, she said, finally remembering that Ilaran was waiting for an answer. Are you in Tananerl?


    Of course. Where else would I be?


    ...I''m in Gengxin.


    There was a brief and utterly horrified silence. Abi got a nasty shock when she realised Ilaran''s emotions were bleeding through the telepathic connection. That was only supposed to happen between two people who were very close and had known each other for years -- usually twins or husband and wife.


    All immortals were capable of telepathy. But usually they were only able to communicate reliably with close relatives who were in the same building. She''d never heard of anyone being able to talk to someone in another country and on another continent. It was impossible.


    Everything today was impossible. Abi felt the beginnings of a terrible headache. Then she realised it wasn''t entirely her headache.


    Er, Ilaran? Can you feel what I''m feeling?


    Unfortunately yes. I take it the same is true for you.


    Just to be absolutely sure, since today was already so insane that she was no longer certain of things she''d once thought undeniable, Abi asked, This isn''t normal, is it?


    She felt Ilaran''s incredulity as strongly as if it was her own. Are you an imbecile? Of course this isn''t normal!


    Then how do we stop it?


    Another uncomfortable silence. Abi couldn''t hear Ilaran''s thoughts, but she could follow their general direction based on how he felt. First he was annoyed, then alarmed, then came a feeling of grim resignation.


    I don''t know. I''ve constructed the strongest mental shields I''m capable of and they haven''t kept you out.


    Abi winced. I''m sorry. I suppose this is all my fault.


    Surprisingly Ilaran''s reply was, I doubt it. You''re not that powerful. No, I think this has something to do with Death. Or possibly the parasite.


    That wasn''t particularly reassuring when Abi knew they would never have met Death -- at least not under those circumstances -- and Ilaran would never gave gotten possessed if it wasn''t for her necromancy.


    Someone knocked at the door. It took Abi a second to realise it was her door and she wasn''t hearing something happening in Ilaran''s room.


    Yes? she asked, and realised she was still speaking telepathically when she felt Ilaran''s confusion. Sorry, I meant to say that to someone else. Aloud she repeated, "Yes?"


    The door opened and one of her aunt''s ladies-in-waiting stepped in. The woman wore the disapproving, judgemental expression that all of her aunt''s servants wore around Abi. She didn''t know how much they knew about why she was in trouble, but clearly they knew enough to dislike her.


    "A message has arrived from someone calling himself Prince Mirio. I understand he is one of your friends." The woman sniffed disapprovingly, giving the impression that she thought anyone who was friends with Abi was not the sort of person she wanted to have anything to do with. "Here."


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    She handed over a sheet of paper as gingerly as if it was a live scorpion. As soon as Abi took it the woman left the room with another disdainful sniff. Abi suppressed the urge to ask her if she had a cold.


    Ilaran''s presence at the back of her mind was faint now that she wasn''t actively communicating with him. She got the impression he was doing his best to ignore her existence. Out of curiosity she reached out telepathically and got a strange feeling of reading endless information on crops and expected harvests. She immediately lost interest and turned her attention to Mirio''s letter.


    It was short and written in Saoridhian. Apparently Mirio had suspected Aunt Jiarl¨²r would want to read it before allowing it to be delivered to Abi. It also didn''t make any sense when she first read it.


    Abi, I''ve found the book you wanted to borrow. I''ll give it to you when I next see you.


    For an embarrassingly long time Abi puzzled over this message before she remembered the code Azurin and Seitomu had invented years ago. They had written each other messages in Seroyawan, but had added flourishes to the characters that were actually Saoridhian letters. Using this code they''d managed to plan an elaborate prank while in different cities by sending each other seemingly mundane messages. Unfortunately for them they''d forgotten that most of their family spoke Saoridhian, and when one of the letters fell into Kiriyuki''s hands... Well, the prank hadn''t gone the way they intended.


    Abi looked more closely at the letters. Sure enough, they were oddly shaped and ran into each other. Someone unfamiliar with Mirio''s writing would assume he was simply not good at writing Saoridhian. Abi knew better. She recognised the apparent mistakes as simplified Seroyawan characters. At once she saw the real message. Come at once. Where we met before. Urgent.


    The last time Mirio had described something as urgent, the main palace''s roof had been cracked in an earthquake and there was a very real chance it would collapse on top of the politicians'' heads. Abi paled as she considered what sort of situation he might describe as urgent this time.


    Her aunt was nowhere to be seen, thank all the gods, and the servants looked at her disapprovingly but gave her a wide berth. She got out of the guest palace without any difficulty and made her way to the garden where she''d met Mirio before. She both was and wasn''t surprised when she rounded a corner and saw Mirio and Lian waiting together. Neither of them had spotted her yet.


    Abi backed out of sight and reached out to Ilaran. Excuse me? Ilaran?


    In reply she got the telepathic equivalent of someone groaning in despair. What is it now? I''m busy.


    Sorry to disturb you again, Abi said sheepishly, but I''m about to meet Lian -- I mean Imrahil. And I thought that if anyone would be able to tell if he''s possessed, well...


    Ilaran''s initial exasperation turned to consideration. I suppose you have a point. Possibly! he added hastily in response to Abi''s immediate relief. I don''t know one way or the other!


    For a few minutes he and Abi had a hasty discussion about what to do if Lian did turn out to be possessed, and also what to do if it turned out he wasn''t. Finally Abi said, We''d better go.


    Wait a minute.


    She couldn''t see what Ilaran was doing, but she got the impression he was moving around a room. What are you doing?


    I was reading last year''s reports, he said, but I can''t do that while also watching you, I don''t know how long this meeting will take, and it would raise questions if my servants walked in and found me staring at the wall. So I''m going to lie down and pretend to be asleep.


    <hr>


    Lian had thought out how to explain everything. The best way to describe it would be to recount his entire life before banishment, he decided. The trouble was that he knew now, with a thousand years'' distance and the benefit of hindsight, that there was no way he came out of that saga looking good.


    He leant on the side of the bridge and watched the fish in the stream below as he contemplated this.


    Better to tell the truth. Gilreon is still alive-- Even after so many years the thought of his half-brother left a sour taste in Lian''s mouth, --and our parents. If I lie she''ll find out and then she''ll never trust me.


    It was na?ve to think he would ever be welcomed back by his family. The best he could hope for was to stay on relatively good terms with his only relative who was both likely to listen and also the current white crow of the family. And the only way he was likely to stay on good terms with her would be by not telling easily-disproved lies.


    Anyway, she was unlikely to object to him necromancy when she was a necromancer herself. Maybe there was something in their family that just predisposed them to this specific sort of dark magic.


    Behind him he heard rather than saw Mirio stand up from where he''d been sitting on the other side of the bridge. Lian straightened up and saw Abi approaching. He blinked and looked again. There was something else strange about her magic now. It was as if hers was intertwined with someone else''s.


    <hr>


    After his first experiment Imrahil continued using necromancy on himself. He found that it was possible to shut down parts of his body while keeping the rest alive, and that he could restart them again without suffering any permanent ill-effects. In hindsight it was inevitable that he would do something spectacularly stupid. The infuriating thing was that it should have been so easy to avoid.


    One night at a particularly boring party he practiced stopping his heart again. Then he was called on to intercede in a dispute between two of his cousins, and he completely forgot to restart it. As always he felt perfectly healthy. He went home and went to bed without remembering what he''d done.


    That was how he discovered that his necromancy was only effective at keeping him alive while he was awake and unconsciously controlling it. Imrahil fell asleep and opened his eyes in a vast and unfamiliar room. He leapt up with a startled shriek. Behind him someone clapped slowly.


    "Congratulations," a strange young woman said. Well, "young" was a rather vague description. One minute she looked very young, the next very old. "You''re the first person I''ve ever met who''s committed accidental suicide by necromancy."


    Imrahil stared at her. Then he looked around at the room, the throne, and the scythe sitting beside her chair. He took a deep breath and was alarmed to find no air filled his lungs. "Who are you, where am I, and what happened?"


    "I told you. I''m Death, you''re in my realm, and you''re here because you killed yourself in one of the most ridiculous ways I''ve ever seen. And now I have to send you back because you aren''t supposed to die for a very long time. Have you any idea how much extra work you''ve given me because you couldn''t leave well enough alone?"


    With every word Imrahil felt more and more as if he was in a dream. "I don''t understand," he said faintly.


    Death gave him a smile with a distinctly unpleasant edge to it. "You will soon. I suppose it''s too much to expect you to stop meddling with things you don''t understand, but hopefully you won''t be so foolish again."


    <hr>


    Imrahil was nowhere to be seen at breakfast. This was unusual enough to raise suspicions. He was always punctual, in keeping with his image as the perfect son. A servant went to fetch him after breakfast. She found him still in bed, lying perfectly still and deadly cold.


    The uproar that followed this discovery was equalled only by the uproar that ensued when he sat up.

 Chapter V: Paranoia

    I need my golden crown of sorrow


    My bloody sword to swing


    My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology


    -- Florence + the Machine, King


    Chaos reigned through the palace. No one was sure what had actually happened and a hundred different rumours flew around. All that was certain was that Prince Imrahil had been found apparently dead, and he woke up while the doctor was examining him.


    "I don''t understand it," the doctor said repeatedly while the entire family crowded around a very irritated Imrahil. "He was dead! I know a dead man when I see one!"


    News of his death had already been sent hastily to the empress. Now another messenger was dispatched with the news that they''d made a mistake. The messenger arrived just as the empress''s carriage was leaving the Silver Palace in a hurry. At first none of her guards believed the second message, and there was a confused moment while everyone talked at once and no one heard anything anyone else said.


    Back in Yaruael Palace everyone finally calmed down enough to listen to Imrahil''s explanation.


    "I had a headache last night," he said, "so I took a tablet for it. I was half-asleep so I must have taken too many."


    "You--" Mihasrin stopped himself and took a deep breath. "Don''t you know how dangerous that is?"


    Imrahil couldn''t help thinking of Death. "I know now. I''ll never do it again."


    "This makes no sense," the doctor continued to insist. "I checked his pulse and found nothing, I listened to his breathing and found nothing! He wasn''t sedated, he was dead!"


    Hartanna frowned at him. "Do you think someone can die and come back to life?"


    "Of course not!"


    "Then obviously you were mistaken."


    <hr>


    Gilreon was the only person who didn''t accept Imrahil''s explanation. He continued to watch Imrahil at every chance he got, and now there was something new in his eyes that had never been there before. Fear.


    It came as a surprise to Imrahil when he realised his half-brother was actually afraid of him. Then he found he enjoyed it. Now he could make Gilreon leave him alone simply by staring him in the eye and smiling. He''d never thought there was anything particularly frightening about his smile, but it made Gilreon shudder and turn away.


    He finally confronted Imrahil about it several days after the supposed tablet mishap. He cornered him in the bathroom when Imrahil was brushing his hair, and stood in front of the door so he would have trouble reaching the handle if he tried to leave.


    "What did you do?"


    Imrahil looked at Gilreon and smiled. He made a point of making his smile as wide as possible. Gilreon flinched but didn''t back down. Damn it. Apparently he was getting over his fear. Imrahil immediately began considering how to bring it back.


    "I''m afraid I don''t understand," he said in his sweetest, fakest voice. He put down the hairbrush so he wouldn''t be tempted to throw it at his half-brother. "What do you think I''ve done?"


    Gilreon glared at him. "You did something weird and I want to know what it is. Did you try to kill yourself?"


    He had no way of knowing how close he''d come to the truth, but his words brought back the memory of Death and her throne room. She had said something before sending Imrahil back -- something he didn''t understand and didn''t want to think too much about. "You''re going to give me so much extra work after this." Being reminded of it immediately sent him into a terrible mood. Imrahil only barely stopped himself lashing out.


    He smiled again. This time it was practically a snarl. "Is that what you think? That I''m suicidal? That would be an easy way to get rid of me, wouldn''t it? Tell Mother what you think and she''d have me sent to some hospital for my own safety. You''d never have to think about me again."


    Once again Gilreon glared at him. "I don''t want to get rid of you! I want to know what''s wrong with you! If there''s some way I can help--"


    Help? Him? Imrahil almost laughed. Gilreon had always hated him, always been suspicious of him, even back when there was no reason to be. Now he claimed he wanted to help? No. He could lie as much as he wanted but Imrahil could see through him. Poor, poor Gilreon. His father was dead and his parents'' marriage was of dubious legitimacy. He was next door to a bastard. And then there was Imrahil. Unquestionably legitimate, the undisputed heir, and as far as older relatives knew he was almost perfect. No wonder Gilreon hated him. No wonder he had spent Imrahil''s entire childhood and adolescence waiting for him to make a mistake and fall from grace. No, it was impossible that Gilreon wanted to help.


    Quietly and slowly he said, "I don''t need help. There is nothing wrong with me. I made a stupid mistake and it will never happen again. Do you understand?"


    Gilreon actually recoiled. He stared at Imrahil in horror. "Your eyes..."


    Imrahil looked at the mirror. He was just in time to see something -- a shadow, or a colour that had never been there before -- leave his eyes before he could get a good look at it. He blinked. Strange. That had never happened before.


    Gilreon continued to stare at him as if he''d seen a ghost. He turned abruptly and stormed out of the bathroom. Imrahil watched him go then studied his reflection again. Whatever had happened to his eyes didn''t happen again.


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    He picked up the hairbrush again and resumed brushing his hair. He brushed it more fiercely than usual, darkly imagining ways to make Gilreon leave him alone once and for all. When he was finished he looked at the strands of hair caught in the brush. There were far more of them than usual. Imrahil was mildly surprised to realise he had brushed his hair so roughly that he''d torn out some of it. Even he should have felt some pain when that happened. But he felt nothing at all.


    <hr>


    From then on Imrahil watched Gilreon as intently as Gilreon had watched him. He especially watched his interactions with Hartanna and Mihasrin, just in case he decided to say something that would raise questions about Imrahil. His parents didn''t notice anything odd about him suddenly following Gilreon around when they had never been close before. But then his parents had never been good at noticing anything about Imrahil.


    "It''s good you''re becoming better friends," Hartanna told them one day.


    Imrahil smiled innocently. Gilreon made an attempt at something that could barely be called a smile.


    As weeks passed and this continued Gilreon became more and more nervous. The more nervous he became, the more suspicious Imrahil became. It was obvious to him that Gilreon must be planning something that he didn''t want Imrahil to find out about.


    A little voice at the back of his mind tried to warn him that he was behaving irrationally, that he had no proof and no reason to believe Gilreon was plotting against him, and if he continued acting like this he would at best make a fool of himself and at worst permanently destroy the image he''d worked so hard to create for himself. But he didn''t listen. It was as if someone was constantly whispering in his ear, convincing him that Gilreon was a threat and he needed to defend himself.


    All his life Imrahil had felt a strange... not exactly hunger or thirst, but something that was both of them at once when he saw an immortal''s blood. He had always ignored it before. No matter what else he was, he was not a vampire and he wasn''t going to become one. But at some point after meeting Death he realised he was hungry all the time. His mouth was constantly dry. It didn''t matter how much he drank; he could never make the thirst go away.


    <hr>


    The empress''s birthday was the only time the entire royal family gathered in the Silver Palace. It was also the only time it was absolutely guaranteed that everyone would be on their best behaviour. No one wanted to offend the woman who could have them stripped of everything they owned and banished for the rest of their life.


    Imrahil''s behaviour lately had been even more erratic and disturbing than usual. But surely not even he would cause a scene in the Silver Palace.


    Gilreon tried to comfort himself with that thought. Then he remembered the downright mad look he''d seen in Imrahil''s eyes from time to time.


    <hr>


    "I don''t think Imrahil should come to the party," Gilreon said. He knew it wouldn''t do any good, but he had to try.


    His mother stared at him incredulously. "Why in the world would you say that?"


    "I think the excitement might be too much for him after--" He broke off, unsure of how to refer to the incident. He hadn''t considered it might have been attempted suicide until Imrahil himself brought that up, but now that the idea had been put in his head he found it hard to get out.


    As he''d expected it didn''t do any good.


    "Don''t be foolish," Hartanna said. "He''s been perfectly fine ever since."


    Gilreon left the sitting room and almost walked into Imrahil. One look at his face was confirmation he''d heard everything. Imrahil stared at him without any expression at all. It was even more disturbing than his smiles. Then he turned and stalked away.


    <hr>


    On the day of the empress''s birthday Imrahil woke feeling even hungrier than usual. His teeth felt unusually sharp and as if they didn''t fit properly in his mouth. That combined with his normal suspicions of Gilreon, now exacerbated by Gilreon''s comments last week, ensured he was in a terrible mood by the time the family were ready to leave.


    Imrahil''s youngest siblings, Arafaren and Abihira, were left behind in the care of their nursemaids. Everyone else went in two different carriages. In the first one were Hartanna, Mihasrin, and their younger children. In the second were Gilreon, Imrahil, and those of their siblings who were considered old enough to travel without adult supervision.


    The disaster would probably not have happened if it wasn''t for an accident during breakfast. The butler dropped a glass and cut his finger when he picked up the pieces. Imrahil was in such a state already that this was just the equivalent of throwing oil on a fire. He restrained himself then. But shortly after, when he got into the carriage and found himself sitting opposite Gilreon, his restraint was strained almost to breaking point. The voice that had convinced him Gilreon was a threat now tried to convince him to eliminate the threat.


    It was a short drive from Yaruael Palace to the Silver Palace. It felt like a hundred years to Imrahil. During the journey he stared at Gilreon''s throat and imagined ripping it open.


    When they finally arrived at the palace there was the usual delay as relatives in their carriages tried to get in first. Then there was another delay at the main door as an aunt had got her dress stuck in her carriage door. At last the carriage pulled up at the grand staircase and they were ready to get out.


    Gilreon leaned forward to unlock the carriage door. That brought his face -- and throat -- closer to Imrahil''s teeth.


    Something in Imrahil snapped.


    He lunged for Gilreon''s throat. Because of the angle of the attack he wasn''t able to get a hold on the front of his throat, but he ripped open the side of his neck. Blood filled his mouth. It finally, finally began to appease his constant hunger. But it wasn''t enough.


    For a second his siblings sat frozen. Not even Gilreon reacted. Then the shock wore off and all hell broke loose. Gilreon grabbed a fistful of Imrahil''s hair and yanked his head back. Their younger siblings screamed bloody murder. A footman ran over and pulled the door open.


    "What''s all this?" he demanded. Then he saw the blood around Imrahil''s mouth and his eyes widened.


    He opened his mouth to call for help. Imrahil was faster. He hadn''t even realised he could move that fast. His teeth sank into the footman''s neck.


    <hr>


    Hartanna and Mihasrin had gotten into the palace before their older children. While waiting for the second carriage to arrive they went into the hall to talk to various relatives who were standing around in groups.


    Someone screamed in the courtyard. It sounded like an adolescent screaming, so no one paid much attention. Probably it was just a victim of an ill-timed prank. And in the unlikely event something was truly wrong, there were guards in the courtyard to deal with it.


    Then more people screamed. This time they sounded like adults. All the gossiping abruptly stopped. Everyone moved to the door or windows to see what was happening.


    Hartanna went out to the top of the steps. She was just in time to meet L¨ªusal and Talaris, her oldest daughters, who ran up the steps as if a ghost was after them. L¨ªusal threw her arms around Hartanna and burst into tears. Talaris tried to say something but couldn''t speak clearly. She could only point down at the carriage.


    Even from this distance Hartana could see a red pool at the other side of the carriage, just visible between its wheels. A motionless shape lay in the pool. Her first thought was that there''d been an accident. Then someone walked round the carriage. They stopped and looked directly up at her. Her blood ran cold.


    It was Imrahil. Blood stained his face and the front of his coat. And most of it was around his mouth.

 Chapter VI: The Truth

    Some truths, over time, can learn to play nice


    Some truths are sharper than knives


    Some truths we only see in the corners of our eyes


    Some truths we wish we could hide


    -- Sleeping At Last, South


    Silence fell after Lian finished his story. Well, he hadn''t really finished it, but he apparently didn''t feel like continuing. Abi couldn''t blame him. She''d had enough shocks today to last her a lifetime. It had never occurred to her that there was a sinister story behind that scar on Gilreon''s neck. He''d explained it with "I was clumsy during sword practice and my opponent''s sword wasn''t as blunt as we thought." Nor had she ever thought that she wasn''t the only member of her family to have both become a necromancer and met Death.


    All things considered, she''d come out of that meeting better than Lian.


    Do you think there''s something about Death that drives people insane? she asked Ilaran.


    During Lian''s story Ilaran had said nothing. Abi couldn''t hear what he was thinking, but she could feel what he was feeling and for the last hour that had been complete and utter horror. Now it turned to anger and exasperation.


    Really? That''s what you''re worried about?


    Mirio had also said nothing. He was silently examining the stones of the bridge as if he''d never seen anything so interesting.


    Lian leant against the bridge wall and stared down at the river. She couldn''t see his face, but from the way he held himself Abi could tell he was as tense as someone who expected a punch at any moment. Maybe that was exactly what he did expect. In spite of -- or perhaps because of; one necromancer sympathising with another''s mistakes -- what she''d just heard, Abi felt sorry for him.


    Unfortunately she let that feeling bleed through to Ilaran, and was promptly treated to an indignant squawk of, What in the name of all the gods is wrong with you?


    This silence couldn''t last forever, and she supposed she might as well be the one to break it. "What happened then?"


    Lian laughed bitterly. It was the sort of laugh that suggested he was trying not to cry. "The guards arrested me. Grandmother wanted to execute me but Mother convinced her to only banish me instead. I''m not really a vampire -- at least not entirely -- and no one could figure out what I am, so they decided I''d just used dark magic and gone mad. I suppose that was true." He took a deep breath. "When I was in the palace cells I finally realised how insane I''d been. After my exile I went into hiding and set out to discover what I''d done to myself. I found that dying and coming back does something to your mind. Or rather, something else gets its claws into your mind. I suppose you could say I was possessed, but I think it would be better to say I was influenced by something."


    I told you so, Abi thought for Ilaran''s benefit.


    He scoffed. You said you thought there was something about Death herself. Not about dying in general.


    Close enough!


    "I got rid of its influence eventually," Lian continued. "To do it I had to find a way to talk to Death without dying. I do not recommend that. Not that I recommend anything I did, but especially not that. But in the end I was free of it, and banished with no way to go home. I wandered around for a while. Lived in Saoridhl¨¦m under an alias then went to foreign countries and different planets. Tried my hand at interfering in politics in Calormen, and in the process discovered that I could use some relatively benign forms of dark magic to heal people. So I decided to become a doctor. Came back to Vanerth, ended up in Gengxin. So," he shrugged, "here I am."


    There was another long and uncomfortable silence. Abi looked at Mirio, but he was still staring at the ground. Lian refused to look at either of them. Ilaran said nothing, but Abi got the impression he was going back over his own possession. She carefully tried to keep her own thoughts separate from his. She''d invaded his privacy enough without spying on yet more of his memories.


    "Did you hear about my necromancy?" she asked, again mainly just to say something.


    "Not until I met you today," Lian said. For the first time since starting his story he looked at her. Well, he frowned disapprovingly at her, which was still better than refusing to look at anyone. "What were you thinking? Don''t you know necromancy is a terrible idea?"


    Abi almost pointed out how hypocritical that was considering he was a necromancer himself. Then she realised that was precisely why he objected to her necromancy.


    "I know it now," she said. "I''m never going to meddle with it again."


    Lian nodded slowly. He didn''t look exactly happy, but at least he looked somewhat relieved. He turned to Mirio, though he carefully avoided looking at him. "Your Highness, I have to go and check on Zi Yao now. And then..." He stopped and seemed to have trouble finding the right words. "I''ll hand in my resignation to the king."


    Mirio finally stopped staring at the ground. He looked up sharply. Lian flinched at the force of his stare.


    "Resignation? Why?"


    Abi had never seen anyone look as baffled as Lian looked now. "...Because... now you know what I am? What I''ve done? Because I''m a danger to your cousin?"


    "What you''ve done," Mirio repeated quietly, more to himself than anyone else. "Which includes cursing yourself to save Zi Yao''s life."


    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.


    Lian opened his mouth. Then he closed it again.


    Mirio continued. "I always knew there was something odd about you, and I think you wanted me to know that. Now I know what you did. But I also know you. Whatever else you''ve done, you''d never harm Zi Yao. And you''ve been here long enough that if you intended to harm anyone else you would have done it by now. So no, I don''t want you to resign."


    Lian still looked as if he''d just been told snow was black. He began to say something, caught Mirio''s eye, and fell silent again.


    "Have you forgotten that you''re the only person who can lessen Zi Yao''s symptoms? You''re the best chance he has of ever having a normal life. You told me once that Zi Yao is like a son to you. Do you really intend to abandon him now?"


    "I don''t think you understand," Lian said, forgetting to be polite in the face of this unexpected opposition. "I''m undead! If I lost control I could kill you and drink your blood!"


    "You''d die trying," Mirio said with uncharacteristic bluntness. "Or are you seriously telling me you think you''re stronger than a sea serpent?"


    "...Than a what?"


    Abi had been feeling increasingly like a spectator during this conversation. Since neither of them seemed to want her opinion -- or even to remember her existence -- she tried to be as unobtrusive as possible. But that made her laugh in spite of herself. Apparently Lian hadn''t heard that the Seroyawan royal family were sea serpent immortals.


    "A sea serpent," Mirio repeated without explanation. "I assure you that if you ever try to attack anyone, I am more than capable of stopping you."


    The discussion was abruptly interrupted by a most unwelcome sound: Aunt Jiarl¨²r''s voice. "Abihira! Where are you?"


    Lian ducked out of sight behind the bridge''s wall. What use he thought that would be if Aunt Jiarl¨²r approached, probably not even he could have said. Mirio and Abi both started.


    "Here I am," Abi shouted.


    Her aunt appeared at the garden gate. Luckily from there Lian was hidden from her sight. She scowled when she saw Abi. Then she spotted Mirio and schooled her face into a neutral expression.


    "I wondered where you''d gone," she said much more calmly. "You mustn''t run off like this, especially not in an place where we are guests."


    "Sorry, aunt," Abi muttered. At the back of her mind she got the distinct impression Ilaran was rolling his eyes.


    She''s right, you know, he thought.


    I know that. Doesn''t mean I have to like her.


    Aunt Jiarl¨²r bowed politely to Mirio. He returned the bow, and somehow managed to keep a straight face even though Lian was still kneeling on the ground, looking as shaken as if he''d just seen a ghost.


    "Please excuse us, your highness," Aunt Jiarl¨²r said, blissfully unaware of the third person on the bridge. "I must discuss something important with my niece. Abihira, come with me."


    Abi grimaced, but there was nothing she could do about it. At least not without starting an argument and risking Aunt Jiarl¨²r coming closer. The last thing they needed was for her to see her supposedly-dead nephew and start asking questions.


    <hr>


    It was strange but true that Lian had unnerved Mirio more before he''d learnt what he''d done. Now that the truth was out, Mirio didn''t feel any suspicion or wariness at all. He puzzled over why that was as Abi left. In the end he decided it was probably because he could contrast Imrahil''s actions with the Lian he knew, and there was no resemblance. What was done was done, but it was unlikely to be done again.


    When Abi and her aunt were gone Lian stood up and dusted the dirt off his trousers. He said nothing and looked very uncomfortable to be alone with Mirio. Oddly, though, Mirio didn''t feel nearly as uncomfortable.


    "We''d better go back to Zi Yao," he said.


    Lian nodded mutely and trailed after him like a lost and very confused duckling.


    <hr>


    "We must attend the memorial ceremony before the funeral and we must leave offerings in the deceased princes'' memory. It would be a terrible insult if we don''t." Aunt Jiarl¨²r stopped and glared at Abi. "What did I just say?"


    "We must leave offerings during the memorial ceremony or we''ll give offense," Abi repeated dutifully.


    Her aunt looked almost annoyed that she couldn''t criticise her for not listening. "Make sure you remember that. I declare, it''ll be a relief when you''re shipped off to Tananerl and become someone else''s problem. Even if you make a spectacle of yourself there you won''t be my responsibility."


    Abi''s head snapped up. Both aloud and telepathically she exclaimed, "Tananerl?"


    Ilaran had gone back to his own mind after she left Mirio and Lian. Now all she could sense of his presence was the faintest whisper of someone else''s thoughts, like hearing a conversation in the distance. But at the mention of his principality his presence strengthened and she knew he could hear everything she did.


    Her aunt frowned at her. "Yes, didn''t you know? Your parents are arranging for you to be given a post in Tananerl. Purely to get you out of Eldrin, of course, and you won''t have any official duties to make a mess of."


    Did you know about this? Abi demanded.


    Of course not! And I''m not going to agree! Gods damn it, am I never to be free of you? You''re worse than a kove?varozs[1]!


    Abi didn''t know what that was, but she got the general idea from his thoughts.


    "That would be a terrible idea," she told her aunt.


    "Your parents disagree. And, I believe, so does my mother. Besides, aren''t you friends with Tananerl''s ruling prince?"


    Abi and Ilaran exchanged the telepathic equivalent of incredulous glances.


    "I don''t know how that came about, I''m sure--"


    Neither do I, Ilaran muttered.


    "--and I don''t know if he''s the best influence on you--"


    In the relative privacy of her mind Abi burst out laughing.


    "--I must say I''ve heard some very shocking things about him--"


    Your hypocrisy is staggering. Ilaran''s words were accompanied by a flicker of memory about some scandal involving Aunt Jiarl¨²r. It was gone before Abi could get a clear idea of what it was all about.


    "--but I suppose that a man who rules an uncivilised place like Tananerl will be less easily offended by your behaviour than a civilised person would."


    At the word "uncivilised" Ilaran''s anger was so sudden and sharp that Abi almost blurted out the words he wanted to say. Luckily she caught herself just in time, because the words he wanted to say were "Who are you calling uncivilised, you ignorant clown?"


    "We aren''t really friends," Abi told her aunt. "We''re barely more than acquaintances." Who have seen each other''s memories and are currently stuck in each other''s minds, she wanted to add, but that would just make her aunt think she was insane. "And it would be a terrible idea to send me to Tananerl."


    "That''s the first sensible thing you''ve said," her aunt grumbled. "Unfortunately the decision is up to my mother. And Prince What''s-his-name, but I doubt he''ll get much say in it. Mother has some knowledge she can use against him, or he''d never have agreed to that reform bill."


    Abi felt Ilaran''s bitterness and resentment as clearly as if it was her own.


    What is Grandmother using to blackmail you? she asked curiously, not really expecting an answer.


    I killed my father. Patricide tends to make people unpopular if it becomes widely known.


    ...Oh. She''d almost forgotten about that. It was one of the most disturbing things she''d seen in Ilaran''s memories, but it had never occurred to her to blackmail him with it.


    That''s because you aren''t remotely suited for politics, Ilaran said.


    Aunt Jiarl¨²r finished with, "But enough talk about Tananerl. Tell me exactly what is expected of you during the memorial ceremony from start to finish."


    Abi took a deep breath and started her recital. Ilaran lost interest and went back to his own mind.

 Chapter VII: The Unquiet Dead

    Welcome to the storm, I am thunder


    Welcome to my table, bring your hunger


    -- The Amazing Devil, The Horror and the Wild


    While the sun was still in the sky there was enough warmth left in the air that Kitri didn''t mind lying on the boat. But when it set the temperature dropped rapidly. Within half an hour Kitri was shivering.


    It had never occurred to her to bring her coat before her hasty departure. She''d left her house wearing only a light shirt and pair of trousers. Neither were remotely suited to staying outside all night without shelter. Likewise her shoes were meant for walking around the town''s well-kept streets, not for trekking over long and sometimes rough roads. Her feet were sore and she was sure there were blisters forming.


    To distract herself from the cold and pain she began to hum an old lullaby her mother had used to sing to her. All she remembered of its words were the lines "The birds have gone to bed and the stars dance with the mijomdor[1]." She repeated those lines over and over almost without realising it and without understanding what she was saying. She wrapped her arms around herself and pulled her knees up to her chest to stay as warm as possible.


    In the distance she gradually became aware of a sound. It was grass rustling in the wind. But there was no wind. And it was feet thudding against the road. But no one would go for a walk without a torch, and she didn''t see any light. It dawned on her that singing, even quietly and incoherently, had been a very bad idea.


    She fell silent and listened. The sound drew nearer. It came in short bursts interrupted by long silences.


    Overhead the moon rose. It was only the jarvanmi?l¨®tur[2] and it gave little light. Rather than making anything clear it threw the landscape into patches of incomprehensible darkness and light. But the light played tricks on the eyes and turned bushes into trees, hills into flat land, and revealed nothing.


    Kitri turned so she was lying facing the bank she''d left. Most of it was deep in shadow. A few faint beams of light shone on the small hill that rose from the bank. The blades of grass growing on it looked as sharp as knives against the shadows beyond.


    What I wouldn''t give for a nice hot cup of tea, she thought morosely.


    It had been hours since she ate anything. In fact, had she eaten at all today? She couldn''t remember. She''d had so many more important things to worry about that she didn''t think she''d even thought of food. And now she was both hungry and thirsty.


    Carefully she inched closer to the side of the boat, taking care not to make any noise that might draw the attention of anything lurking in the darkness. When her hand reached the boat''s edge she reached down and dipped her fingers in the water. Then she brought them to her mouth. She repeated this until she''d managed to drink a few drops of water, enough to temporarily stop her feeling so dreadfully thirsty. It would have been so much faster and more convenient if she''d been able to sit up and scoop up handfuls of water, but she didn''t want to make any noise if she could help it.


    She inched back to her original position in the middle of the boat. Sleep was still far away and the biting cold made her shiver. Kitri silently recited all of the fairy-tales she remembered her mother telling her. When she couldn''t remember any more she moved on to a list of the earliest cases she''d heard. That case about the murder in the bakery had been a very confusing one. Everyone who knew the victim had hated him and eight different people had both the motive and the opportunity to kill him. In the end no one had been found guilty and the case was still unsolved. And then there was the case of a dispute over fences that led to both parties building ridiculously high fences and writing insults on them. And her first case of all had been--


    The noise started again. It was closer this time. It sounded like a crowd of people walking very slowly and unsteadily. Kitri''s blood ran cold. She looked at the distance between her boat and the bank, calculating whether or not she was far enough away. The monsters had never been very intelligent. If they didn''t see or hear her, maybe they would pass on by. In the worst case scenario they would only be able to stand on the bank and snarl at her. Surely they couldn''t swim.


    The noise stopped. The silence that followed was worse than the noise itself. Kitri strained her ears to hear what was happening. Then abruptly it started again. This time it was unmistakeably heading in her direction.


    Damn you, Abihira! Kitri thought as loudly as she could, in the extremely unlikely chance that Abi might hear her and undo whatever she''d done.


    Again the noise stopped. It went on like this, starting and stopping and each time getting closer, for what felt like hours. The moon passed overhead and sank towards to the horizon. Although the monsters were there they remained stubbornly out of sight.


    Kitri took a deep breath and tried to think calmly. Maybe the monsters were just looking for a place to cross the river. If so, they''d find the bridge before they found her. Some legendary monsters were said to be unable to cross running water, so with any luck they would still be trapped on this side of the river. If that legend wasn''t true, then the bridge was narrow enough that they couldn''t cross it quickly. It had taken them half the night to get from the town to here. It would take them longer to get to the next town. Someone would see them and raise the alarm even if Kitri was trapped here. She had nothing to worry about.


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    Nothing to worry about, she repeated to herself as the noise drew nearer. Nothing to worry about. Nothing--


    Her thoughts stuttered to a halt.


    Something moved beyond the hill. It was at the top of the hill and starting down towards the riverbank before her brain registered what her eyes were seeing. A woman crawled over the grass towards Kitri. Both of her legs were missing. She pulled herself along on arms that were covered in bitemarks and missing chunks of flesh. Behind her an elderly man lurched over the hill. He was missing an arm and half of his face. Following him were more monsters, crowded together until Kitri''s eyes couldn''t distinguish one from another in the dim light.


    The first monster crawled right up to the water''s edge. When her hand landed in the water she recoiled with a miserable and pained moan. Then... Nothing. The monsters stood motionless on the riverbank. They didn''t even seem to be aware of Kitri''s presence mere feet away. She lay as still as a statue and hardly dared to breathe.


    Eventually some sort of silent communication seemed to take place between them. As one they turned to the left and began shambling further along the bank. Kitri watched, relieved but confused, as they vanished into the darkness.


    <hr>


    Kitri didn''t know when or how she''d managed to fall asleep. It was a shock to wake up and find the sun beginning to rise. She looked over at the riverbank. It was deserted. Her initial relief faded quickly when she realised the world was still unnaturally quiet. No birds sang. No frogs croaked.


    She considered her options. One, she could stay here until she knew where the crowd was. Two, she could set off for the next town and hope she got there without running into them. Neither was appealing. But she had to do something, and she''d rather be on the move than sitting here helplessly.


    She grabbed the rope and began to pull the boat fully across the river. The pulley gave an agonising and far-too-loud screech. Kitri''s head snapped around and she scanned the bank behind her for any sign of the crowd. Nothing yet, but she pulled faster.


    <hr>


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ had never travelled much before. He and his mother had gone back and forth between Neleth Ancalen and Eldrin when visiting Abi, yes, but those had hardly been pleasant trips. Not with his mother constantly breathing down his neck. And the one time his whole family had gone on holiday abroad ranked as one of the most miserable experiences of his life. He''d taken sick shortly after arriving, and instead of letting him rest his mother insisted on dragging him along on all of their sight-seeing trips. Ir¨ªm¨¦ was sure that the kingdom of Nabevsky was a very nice place if you were able to enjoy it. He hadn''t been, and now he couldn''t hear its name without remembering how awful he''d felt.


    But this trip was nothing like any of those ones. First there was the airship journey to Veiteos. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had been on airships before, but never overnight. It was both thrilling and slightly scary to pull back his room''s curtains and see clouds below him.


    Siarvin, it turned out, had a fear of heights. He spent most of the journey on the airship sitting with his back to the window so he couldn''t see just how high they were. When an unusually strong gust of wind made the ship sway he turned green and started to pray. Shizuki, on the other hand, loved heights and spent most of his time staring out the window. Ir¨ªm¨¦ could tell it made both Siarvin and Koyuki nervous, but neither tried to stop him.


    Things between Siarvin and Koyuki were very awkward in general. It wasn''t that they were hostile towards each other, or even that they disliked each other. As far as Ir¨ªm¨¦ could tell they simply had nothing in common and a painful past to try and forget. The only thing they agreed on absolutely was protecting Shizuki and giving him as normal a childhood as possible now he was away from Haliran. And if that meant allowing him to stare out the window and intermittently beg Ir¨ªm¨¦ to take him flying, so be it.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ didn''t really mind Shizuki''s entreaties and had no intention of giving in to them, but all the same he was relieved when the airship arrived at Veiteos. Other, overly-curious passengers who overheard Shizuki assumed Ir¨ªm¨¦ had to be some sort of bird immortal, and asked him what his bird form was.


    "A bluebird," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said, giving Shizuki a warning look when he seemed to be about to protest.


    When the passengers moved on Shizuki pouted and asked why Ir¨ªm¨¦ wouldn''t tell people he was a dragon immortal.


    "Because I don''t want everyone to stare at me," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said with a grimace as he remembered his time stuck in dragon form.


    At least when they disembarked at Veiteos there was no longer much chance of Shizuki asking him to go flying. Maybe that was why Ir¨ªm¨¦ now had time to notice something was wrong.


    He first sensed it as the train left Veiteos. It was like the echo of an echo, something so faint that he couldn''t tell where it was coming from or even what it was beyond some sort of magic. But he knew without being told that it was something bad. He remembered the dark cloud he''d seen hanging over Abi. And he worried.


    The train stopped in the town of Goyeor, the last town before it reached Tananerl. During the half-hour delay Ir¨ªm¨¦ hastily sent a telegram to Abi. He didn''t know exactly where she was now, so he sent it to Arafaren with instructions to forward it to her.


    Something strange happening stop have you done something stop, he wrote. He would have explained more, but a glance at how much it cost to send a telegram to Eldrin made him change his mind.


    Oh well. When he arrived in Tananerl he could write a proper letter.


    <hr>


    Ilaran could think of many things that annoyed him. People who asked stupid questions, for one thing. And records that were improperly filed, forcing him to hunt through half the archives to find them. But those paled in comparison to having someone else stuck in his mind.


    He had never been fond of letting other people know his real thoughts. Nor did he want to know everything anyone else thought. Now he was forced to know a disturbing amount of what Abihira thought, and he knew that she knew just as much about him. At random moments he was forced to hear her opinions on something or other. It was driving him mad and it hadn''t even been happening for a full day yet.


    He flatly refused to consider what would happen if this was permanent. The idea was simply unbearable. All he could do was strengthen his telepathic shields while Abihira strengthened hers, and hope they could block each other out for a few hours.


    When, after a long and stressful day -- mostly stressful thanks to Lian, Abihira, and their family drama -- he finally fell asleep, his last coherent thought was to hope this would turn out to be a dream.


    His hopes were dashed shortly afterwards, when he opened his eyes to find himself in the garden of Szijosmajsa Palace. On its own there was nothing unusual about that. Szijosmajsa Palace in Ahalal''s capital had been Ilaran''s childhood home, and later where he and Nuvildu had lived during his time as King of Ahalal. He often dreamt about it. But what definitely was unusual was the other person in the garden.


    Ilaran sighed wearily and frowned at Abihira. "I''d tell you to get out of my head, but I think that''s impossible now."

 Chapter VIII: Haliran Escapes

    At other times I would have liked the place, but now it seemed to suffocate me. The free moorlands were prison walls, and the keen hill air was the breath of a dungeon. -- John Buchan, The Thirty-Nine Steps


    After a long day with plenty of stress caused by Lian, Ilaran and Aunt Jiarl¨²r, Abi had looked forward to sleep as a chance to escape. She should have remembered what happened the last time she slept. Unfortunately she didn''t, and it came as a nasty shock when she opened her eyes and saw an unfamiliar castle.


    It came as less of a shock to realise she recognised it. She''d seen it in Ilaran''s memories. From there it was easy to deduce where she was and what had happened. She sighed wearily.


    Behind her Ilaran spoke up. "I''d tell you to get out of my head, but I think that''s impossible now."


    Abi nodded. Now that the initial shock, alarm and distress was wearing off she found herself able to look at the situation from a new angle. It was terribly inconvenient for both of them, yes, but how many other people could say they''d gotten telepathically linked with someone who was basically a stranger? This  could shed all sorts of light on how telepathy worked. If they told the scholars at the Barlanimnunil University they''d keep the research department busy until the next shoghantamev[1].


    Ilaran''s incredulity bled through to her. "Are you insane? Do you want to be treated as a test subject for the rest of your life? Because I sure as hell don''t!"


    ...Well. Put like that it didn''t seem like such a good idea to tell anyone. She sat down on the grass next to Ilaran, who was apparently trying to go to sleep in spite of being in a dream. "But how are we going to undo it? I don''t know, and if you knew you would''ve done it by now."


    Ilaran shrugged without opening his eyes. "I''m too tired to think about it just now. Have you any idea how much work has piled up while I was away?"


    She didn''t, but she could make a guess from the amount of books she''d seen in his room. "A lot?"


    "A lot," he agreed. "And I can''t concentrate on it when I keep hearing your thoughts at the back of my mind."


    Abi winced. "Sorry."


    They sat in silence for a while. Abi counted the windows on the palace walls for something to do. It wasn''t exactly like the palace she''d seen in Ilaran''s memories. In fact, surreal though it seemed, it had somehow gained the roof and some of the architecture of the Seroyawan royal palace. Likewise the garden contained some of Mirio''s flowers and a swing that belonged in her parents'' home.


    Now that she had nothing else to think about -- at least, nothing else that she could do anything about -- her mind returned to what Lian had said about her magic. That still puzzled her. What could be controlled by her magic? She hadn''t cast any spells.


    She examined her magic. At once she realised there was something odd about it after all. It wasn''t that she was currently controlling a spell, however unconsciously; it was more that she had cast a spell at some point in the past and it was now controlling itself.


    "Do you sense that?" she asked Ilaran.


    "What?" he asked, still not bothering to open his eyes. Apparently he was trying to send himself back to sleep by sheer force of will.


    "There''s something funny about my magic."


    Abi didn''t know how to explain it, so she simply thought of how it felt then tried to project that feeling to him. It seemed to get through, because Ilaran''s eyes snapped open and he gave her an alarmed look.


    "That''s odd. I felt something similar after..."


    He didn''t finish, but she knew from the glimpse she got of his thoughts that he meant the parasite. And from what she could sense of his mind, he felt that the parasite had left something behind. ''Scars or dead tissue'' was how he thought of it. Abi could perfectly understand that incident leaving mental scars -- gods knew seeing the parasite kill an innocent woman had scarred her for life -- but she got the impression that Ilaran meant rather more literal scars. And apparently they were reacting to something they could sense but Ilaran couldn''t.


    "I don''t like the sound of that," Abi said.


    Ilaran gave her the sort of look that suggested he thought this was an understatement of incredible proportions and she was an idiot for saying it. "I don''t think the telepathy is your fault. But I do think the possession was." Fair enough. "Therefore, I think whatever is happening now is also your fault."


    Abi knew that was also fair enough, but she couldn''t help feeling offended. "And? What do you expect me to do about it?"


    Ilaran lay down again and went back to trying to send himself to sleep. "If I were you I''d make sure you didn''t leave any more walking corpses wandering around."


    "Don''t be ridiculous. I only reanimated one." Abi paused, remembering this wasn''t entirely accurate. "And the skeletons, but I un-reanimated them. Oh, and the mice, but they aren''t a threat to anyone."


    As soon as the words were out of her mouth she remembered the mouse jumping into Ir¨ªm¨¦''s hand. On second thoughts, they very well might have been a threat if she''d continued raising them. But it had been ages since she even thought of reanimating anything!


    "Are you sure you un-reanimated the skeletons? As I recall you have a poor track record with that."


    Abi scowled. "Yes, I''m sure. Anyway, Kitri would have told me if there were still skeletons wandering around the town. It would be in all the news all over the planet by now."


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    <hr>


    It took another half an hour before Abi finally fell asleep. When she woke up she was back in her own mind, in her own room, with Ilaran''s presence only a faint whisper at the back of her mind. She strengthened her telepathic shields yet again. They wouldn''t hold for long, she knew, but at least she would have some peace and quiet while they did.


    She got dressed and went down to breakfast with the grim resignation of someone who was in for yet another ordeal. Surprisingly her aunt had nothing to criticise her for this time. Jiarl¨²r looked at the clock, saw that she couldn''t complain about Abi being up too late, and said nothing beyond an ordinary greeting.


    Abi was mildly disappointed to see that their hosts had provided Saoridhin food for breakfast. She''d never had a chance to try much Gengxinese food beyond the sweets Mirio brought home from his visits. Even though she hadn''t eaten much yesterday she didn''t feel particularly hungry. But she could just imagine what her aunt would say if she announced her intention to skip breakfast, so she helped herself to a bowl of porridge.


    The pot was placed on a small magically-heated plate in the middle of the table to keep it warm. That was something she''d never seen before, and it was such a simple yet obvious thing that she couldn''t understand why no one in either Seroyawa or Saoridhl¨¦m had thought of it yet. She spent several minutes examining the plate with interest, working out what spells powered it and how the pot didn''t overheat.


    "What are you doing?" Aunt Jiarl¨²r demanded suspiciously, as if she thought Abi might have a sinister reason for being so interested in the plate.


    Abi quickly sat back and picked up her porridge. "Nothing."


    It should have been easy to forget what Ilaran had suggested. For a while she did manage to forget it. But then it came back again and again. Every time it went out of her mind, something brought it back to her. Had she properly un-reanimated those skeletons? Were they still under her control, waiting for her to give them orders like the other corpse? And if so, would they attack innocent people like the other corpse did?


    The thought preyed on her all day. It absorbed so much of her attention that she accompanied Aunt Jiarl¨²r to the princes'' memorial ceremony without noticing anything about the ceremony. The main thing that stuck out in her mind was how the coffins were covered with white cloths instead of red[2].


    After the ceremony she reached a decision. She''d send a telegram to Kitri asking if anything had happened in that graveyard.


    <hr>


    It had been months since her arrest and Haliran still had no idea what was happening. She was constantly being moved from one prison to another, and sometimes back to prisons she''d been in before. None of the guards would tell her anything. No one came to see her. No one gave her any idea of when her trial would be.


    Part of her wondered if this was an attempt to drive her mad before the trial. Another part just kept a look out for a chance to escape during these moves. Surely the guards'' attention would lapse at some point.


    And at last, on a trip to yet another prison, she got her chance. It wasn''t much of one. The carriage she was in gave a sudden lurch and stopped dead, leaning to one side. No one told her what was happening. From the angry exclamations of the guards she deduced that part of a wheel had broken off.


    Most of the guards clustered around it. She could hear them debating whether to try to fix the wheel here or send a messenger to the nearest town to buy a replacement.


    "The nearest town is five miles away," one of the guards pointed out, unwittingly giving Haliran some very useful information.


    She was handcuffed, but her legs weren''t bound. She stood up and examined the door on the opposite side to the guards. The carriage was leaning at such an angle that it was difficult to stand without sliding, especially without the use of her hands. But it gave her a good look at the lock. It was locked on the outside. At first the situation seemed hopeless. Then she looked at the window. It had been opened slightly to allow air into the carriage. A guard had walked outside to prevent her trying to escape that way. But now the guard was at the other side of the carriage with his friends.


    Haliran grabbed the edge of the window and pulled it open as far as it would go. It was a tricky business when she couldn''t use her hands properly. Finally she got it open wide enough for her to get through. She climbed on top of her chair and, with much difficulty and discomfort, finally managed to get through the window.


    At once she saw they were in a stretch of road that ran beside a forest. But there was a gap of several yards of open grass between the carriage and the trees.


    She ran as fast as she could. A shout behind her told her she''d been spotted.


    "Stop or we''ll shoot!"


    Haliran ignored the guard. The first gunshot rang out just as she reached the trees. More followed. She dived into the undergrowth and crawled as far as she could. When she judged she was out of range she got up and ran again.


    <hr>


    Shizuki frowned critically at the view from the train''s windows. "Is that... the place with the funny name?"


    "Magd-rud-kesh-ji," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said, carefully sounding out each syllable and knowing he was still mispronouncing it. "Yes, this is it. It says so on that sign."


    The sign beside the tracks read "Welcome to Magdr?d-Keszgy" in several different languages, with flowers around the flowers. Its cheerfulness contrasted with the grey and rather grim buildings visible from the train.


    "It''s ugly," Shizuki declared after watched a few more grey buildings pass.


    "These are just the outskirts," Siarvin said. "Those are factories. The city itself is more cheerful."


    Shizuki didn''t look convinced. He continued to look unconvinced when the train arrived at the station and the four of them got out onto the platform. To be fair, the platform wasn''t particularly cheerful either. It was like all outdoor platforms: chilly and with nothing in sight but a row of benches.


    Then they got into the station itself. Shizuki''s mouth dropped open. So did Ir¨ªm¨¦''s. For a minute he wondered if they''d accidentally walked into a palace or a government building. The station''s floor was covered in bright blue tiles. Its walls probably weren''t made of actual marble, but they certainly looked like it. And its high ceiling was painted to look like the sky.


    After a moment''s stunned silence Koyuki said what most of them were thinking. "This is a train station?"


    Siarvin smiled. "It used to be the mayor''s palace. But then a mayor decided to move to a different part of the city, and the palace stood empty until the train company bought it. There was an article about it in the Eldrin papers."


    A bitter tone crept into his voice on the last sentence. Ir¨ªm¨¦ suddenly realised that for years his only way of knowing what happened in his homeland was through articles like that.


    Getting out of the station took a long time. Shizuki kept running off to examine something that caught his eye, and even without those delays the station was like a maze. Every few minutes they had to stop and go back to the last signpost to find the right corridor. At last they reached the exit -- a room made entirely out of huge panes of glass. Shizuki almost darted right out through the front doors, but Koyuki stopped him in time.


    "Wait a minute," Siarvin said, taking a map out of his pocket. "I don''t remember the way to the palace. Let''s see now--"


    "I can show you," a familiar voice said behind them.


    All of them jumped. Siarvin turned and glared at Ilaran.


    "Warn us next time!" he complained in the exasperated tone of someone pretending to be angrier than they were.


    Any reply Ilaran might have made was lost when Shizuki flung himself at him, turning into a snake half-way and wrapping himself around Ilaran''s chest.


    Ilaran sighed. "And there I was hoping we wouldn''t attract too much attention."

 Chapter IX: Unwanted Advice

    And I can go anywhere I want


    Anywhere I want, just not home


    -- Taylor Swift, My Tears Ricochet


    The last time Arafaren got a telegram it had been from the headmaster of his school warning him that if he didn''t immediately improve his work he wouldn''t be allowed to come back after the holidays. Most of the other telegrams he got were of a similar sort. So when a servant handed him one, his first reaction was to think of all the people he had offended recently.


    It came as a shock when he saw the telegram was signed "Ir¨ªm¨¦". He had nothing to do with his sister''s fianc¨¦ and certainly hadn''t done anything to warrant an angry telegram. Then he actually bothered to read the message, and things became simultaneously more and less clear.


    Please forward to Abi, read the first line. That was all well and good, but if Ir¨ªm¨¦ didn''t want Arafaren to read the rest of the telegram then he should have sent it to a different one of her relatives. Something strange happening stop have you done something stop.


    Arafaren was many things -- none of them good, according to his parents and older siblings, whose favourite ways to describe him included "irresponsible" and "will annoy the wrong person and end up in prison some day" -- but in spite of what some people believed he wasn''t stupid.


    When Abi first arrived her foster brother had sent Arafaren a very confusing letter that referenced corpses and hungry ghosts. Abi herself had reacted as if he had given away some big secret. Then Abi had gone to visit one of her friends. Lo and behold, the planet had promptly experienced an outbreak of walking dead. Add to that the strange girl in funeral clothes who showed up during the festival, and a pattern began to emerge. A pattern that Arafaren didn''t like at all. He may be a prankster who never took anything seriously, but even he knew there were some things in the world that shouldn''t be meddled with. Dark magic of all sorts was at the top of that list. And necromancy was at the top of the list of dark magic.


    From painful experience of Aunt Jiarl¨²r he knew that any letter he sent directly to Abi would first be read by their aunt. Therefore he had to find a way to get a letter to Abi indirectly. Arafaren made a mental list of everyone he knew in the Gengxinese court. It was a very short list with only two names on it: the sons of the current ambassador to Saoridhl¨¦m. He didn''t know either of them well enough to trust them to pass on a message like this.


    "Is Mirio still in Gengxin?" he asked Kiriyuki casually when they met at the Silver Palace that afternoon.


    Kiriyuki eyed him suspiciously, but apparently decided the question was innocuous enough to answer. "Yes. I think he plans to stay for at least another month."


    As soon as he got home Arafaren went to his room, got out a writing pad, and carefully composed a letter to Abi and a note to Mirio asking him to forward it to her. There was no easy way to ask "Are you a necromancer?" and in the end he settled for being as blunt as possible.


    This telegram arrived from your fianc¨¦. I think I know what he means by "have you done something". I have two questions: why in the Nine Heavens are you playing with necromancy? And are you going to get yourself or someone else killed?


    He finished the letter with a very emphatic "You idiot!" written in the boldest letters he could draw and underlined several times in case she somehow missed seeing them.


    His letter to Mirio was even shorter. Please give this to my idiotic sister and don''t let Aunt Jiarl¨²r know.


    Arafaren put both letters and the telegram in an envelope, addressed the letter to Prince Mirio at the royal palace of Gengxin -- he didn''t know the exact address, but the letter was bound to reach the right person. There couldn''t be more than one Prince Mirio in Gengxin, especially since it wasn''t a Gengxinese name -- and sneaked down to his mother''s study. Hartanna and L¨ªusal were arguing about something in the drawing room. No one else was around. It was easy to get into the study, take a wax stick and Hartanna''s seal from her table, and seal the letter to look like an official communication.


    He then left the house and went to the Silver Palace in search of Kiriyuki. He couldn''t find her, but he found a lady-in-waiting assigned to her who promised to send the letter this evening with Kiriyuki''s post. That was the best he could do. Arafaren went home hoping that no one would suddenly be seized by the urge to open and read letters addressed to foreign royals.


    On his way out of the Silver Palace he had to hastily jump out of the way of a messenger on horseback. Unfortunately it was a messenger who clearly subscribed to the "pedestrians are nuisances who must be taught a lesson" school of thought. Arafaren stumbled back and fell into the hedge. He glared after the messenger, who didn''t even have the courtesy to look round and see if he was alright. She tied her horse in front of the guardhouse and ran in. Minutes later an uproar started. Arafaren, struggling to disentangle himself from the hedge, watched in bemusement as guards raced out of the guardhouse as if it was on fire.


    I wonder who''s died, he thought. The last time he''d seen such mayhem had been when a candidate for mayor had gotten drunk and fallen off his platform to his death in the middle of a speech.


    Oh well. If it was important he''d hear about it sooner or later.


    <hr>


    "Haliran has escaped!"


    The news spread quickly through all of the guards. From them it spread to the rest of the palace almost before the seneschal had time to inform the empress. Raiv¨ªth groaned when she heard the news.


    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.


    "What were the guards doing? How could they let her escape?"


    "Apparently there was an accident involving the carriage," the seneschal said. "Haliran escaped while the guards were ascertaining the damage. She''s believed to be somewhere in the vicinity of Elegravan. All of the local police are out searching for her. They''ve posted descriptions of her in all the nearby towns. She won''t get very far."


    "Don''t say that," Ninuath said grimly. "Every time someone makes an assumption like that the universe conspires to prove it wrong. We thought she wouldn''t escape and we took measures to ensure her friends couldn''t contact her, but now she has escaped and if this news spreads widely her friends will be able to track her down."


    "I think we should inform her ex-husband," Raiv¨ªth said. "He might know if she has any friends in the area. Where is he? Still in Gihimayel Palace?"


    "No, he''s gone to Tananerl."


    "Then we will have to send the message through Prince Ilaran."


    <hr>


    Ilaran could count on one hand the number of times he''d received a message from his aunt that contained good news. From the minute Kivoduin informed him there was an urgent missive from the Silver Palace he knew it was going to be something he didn''t want to hear. It would have to happen right after Siarvin arrived, too. Now Siarvin would complain Ilaran was doing too much work. He''d already asked if Ilaran was getting enough sleep and eating enough. Ilaran knew his uncle meant well, but it was strange to be mother-henned like this after centuries of taking care of himself.


    He took the letter to his study to read it in peace. What it said was beyond his worst fears. He''d expected news about yet another bill proposed by idiotic politicians miles away that would negatively affect Tananerl. Instead... How was he going to break this to Siarvin?


    Naturally it was at this most inopportune moment that Abihira''s thoughts intruded on his. I can''t say all that. It has to be ten words or under. Maybe if I cut out this line...


    Ilaran sent her the telepathic equivalent of an annoyed neighbour shouting "Keep it down!" at the noisy teenagers next door.


    Sorry, Abihira said. Don''t suppose you know how to keep a telegram short, do you?


    Say as little as possible, Ilaran replied shortly.


    I''ve tried that, but there''s no short way to say it. I want to ask Kitri if she''s noticed anything odd about the graveyard.


    Then tell her that. Now please be quiet!


    To do her justice, Abihira made an obvious effort to keep her thoughts confined to her own mind. She wasn''t entirely successful, but under the circumstances that was hardly her fault. Ilaran read the letter again to make sure he hadn''t misunderstood. Unfortunately he hadn''t. Haliran had escaped and was now on the run.


    He gritted his teeth and went in search of Siarvin.


    <hr>


    Abi drummed her fingers on the desk and frowned down at the paper. She''d crossed out so many words that she was left with only Kitri''s name and "graveyard". After some thought she also crossed out the second word. She tried again beneath the first attempt.


    Kitri have you seen anything odd stop. Well, that was certainly short enough. But it didn''t explain what she meant by "odd". For all she knew Kitri might interpret it as an inquiry about any unusual sight she''d seen. Kitri has anything happened in marketplace stop. That was also too vague. Kitri are there-- She gave up and started again. Kitri check the graveyard stop.


    Abi stared at the last one. It was obvious enough that Kitri would know at once what she meant, but it was vague enough that none of the workers in the telegraph offices would have a clue what it was about. Best of all, it was short.


    Finally satisfied, she put the piece of paper in the fire -- no use in leaving it lying around for Aunt Jiarl¨²r to find -- and went to the nearest telegram office. It was outside the palace walls. Technically Abi wasn''t supposed to leave the palace without telling someone, but she would only be gone a few minutes and could claim she was walking in the gardens. The guards at the main gate looked at her dubiously, but decided it was too much trouble to question a foreign royal and let her pass without comment.


    There were enough foreigners -- mainly merchants, though she spotted the occasional tourist -- in Tiansheng[1] that no one spared Abi a second glance. The girl in the telegraph office didn''t speak Saoridhian, but she understood enough Seroyawan that Abi could get her message across. Once that was done she walked slowly back to the palace, looking curiously around at all the shops.


    One shop sold unpainted teapots. When a customer bought one they described how they wanted it painted, and one of the shop workers painted it for them there and then. Abi stopped to watch this. She didn''t notice anyone approach until she looked up and found Lian beside her.


    She jumped back with a startled yelp. Once the shock wore off she glared at him. "What the hell? Warn me next time!"


    Lian looked sheepish. "Sorry. I often forget I have to consciously make noise for people to hear me."


    "You must give a lot of people a nasty shock," Abi muttered. She began to walk slowly towards the palace. Lian kept pace with her.


    "I do. That''s why I usually don''t bother to alert anyone when I approach."


    That... sounded oddly like the sort of thing Arafaren would find hilarious. Abi raised her eyebrows.


    Lian explained, "People leave me alone when I scare them. It''s best for everyone if I''m left alone as much as possible."


    On the one hand she could see where he was coming from. On the other, however... "But aren''t you just creating enemies unnecessarily?"


    He shrugged. "Which is better: people disliking me, or people not being wary of me and encountering me when I''m hungry?"


    "...Do you eat people?"


    Lian shook his head. "Not exactly. I just drink their blood."


    They reached the gates of the palace and fell silent as they passed the guards. When they were out of earshot Abi asked, "Are you sure it was necromancy that turned you into this? You said you always reacted to the sight of blood, even long before you took up necromancy."


    "I don''t know," Lian said thoughtfully. "I think I may have always been more inclined to become a vampire -- vampires must come from somewhere, and usually it''s said they used to be immortals. But whatever I was, necromancy made things much worse."


    In hindsight it had been incredibly stupid of the two of them to walk into the palace together in broad daylight. But Abi had completely forgotten about Aunt Jiarl¨²r, and presumably so had Lian. From a distance there was nothing obviously foreign about Lian -- his hair was straight and dark brown, he currently wore it up in a Gengxinese style, and he wore Gengxinese clothes. As long as no one got close enough to see his eyes and the shape of his nose he could be mistaken for one of the servants or court officials. But if seen close up, no one would ever think he was Gengxinese.


    "There you are, Abihira! Where have you been?"


    Abi turned instinctively. So did Lian. Aunt Jiarl¨²r was right behind them. At first she barely even glanced at Lian. She opened her mouth to continue complaining about Abi. Then she froze. She stared at Lian as if she''d seen a ghost.


    Oh no, Abi thought with dawning horror. Oh gods no.

 Chapter X: A Tangled Web

    I agreed the situation was sticky. Indeed, offhand it was difficult to see how it could have been more glutinous. -- P. G. Wodehouse, Jeeves and the Feudal Spirit


    Lian had feared many things in his life. Mostly they had been things that might happen to him if people found out what he was and what he''d done. Lately they''d been things that might happen to Zi Yao. But even when he was afraid he always had a plan of what to do if his fears came true.


    He''d never planned for this. He''d thought that if he faced trouble from any of his family, it would be from Abihira. Not from someone who had known him before and personally witnessed his rampage.


    Aunt Jiarl¨²r turned as white as chalk. "Abihira," she said quietly, in a voice that shook despite her best efforts, "come over here."


    Abihira didn''t move. "Listen, aunt, I can explain everything."


    Lian kept his face blank while he screamed internally. Don''t try to explain! Don''t let her know you know who I am!


    It would only end badly for Abi if she gave their family any reason to suspect she was in league with him. She was already in trouble; no need to make it worse. Lian wanted to say something -- to tell Abi to go away, or to tell Jiarl¨²r that Abi didn''t know his real identity. Maybe even to pretend he didn''t recognise her and he was a random stranger who just happened to look exactly like her exiled nephew. But his voice refused to work.


    "Abihira, this is not a joke. Get away from that thing this minute!"


    Abi still refused to move. "Don''t call him a thing! He''s a doctor. He works here. His name''s Lian and he''s a friend of Mirio''s."


    Jiarl¨²r made a choking sound as if she was having difficulty breathing. Abi''s words finally jarred Lian out of his state of frozen shock. He quickly went over his cover story. His name was Vieraneth Dimeniesilru, he was a shopkeeper''s son from the city of Kashur? on the western coast and spoke the Tholvad dialect, he was just over three thousand years old, and he had never been anywhere near Eldrin in his life. Contrast that with Prince Imrahil Mihasrinsilru, who by now would be almost six thousand years old and who spoke the Eldrin-Savidar dialect. No, even if she investigated she would find nothing to prove he was really her nephew. That thought gave him the courage to look her in the eye and pretend he didn''t recognise her.


    "It''s an honour to meet you, your Highness," he said politely in Saoridhian, bowing to her. After so many years of wandering all over the planet, the galaxy and beyond he knew his accent had changed beyond recognition, but he still took the trouble to use the most western Saoridhian accent he could manage[1].


    Jiarl¨²r stared at him, her mouth a grim line. Lian didn''t believe for a minute she was really deceived. But as long as he put enough doubt in her mind, she couldn''t go to either King Shi Zheng or Empress Raiv¨ªth. What would she say, anyway? "There''s a doctor here who looks like my nephew. Yes, I know we all believe my nephew is dead, and the doctor''s age and background doesn''t match up at all." She''d be laughed out of the palace. Nor could she accuse him of being Imrahil in front of Abi, who as far as Jiarl¨²r knew also had no reason to believe her long-dead brother might still be alive. She''d have to explain the whole sorry saga, and it would sound even less convincing than when he told it.


    Her thoughts ran along similar lines, judging by her increasingly dour expression. She looked sharply at Abi and tried another tack. "Why are you talking to a doctor? Are you ill?"


    Abi didn''t hesitate before answering. On the one hand this made her answer more convincing. On the other, as became painfully clear a few seconds later, it meant she didn''t think before speaking. "I''m not talking to him because he''s a doctor. He''s engaged to Mirio."


    Lian would have been less shocked if Empress Raiv¨ªth herself had arrived and personally asked him to come home and let bygones be bygones. He retained enough control over his expression to keep from openly gawking, but he shot Abi a sideways glance that let her know exactly what he thought of this.


    Jiarl¨²r folded her arms and glared at Abi. "Do you really expect me to believe that your foster brother, the son of an emperor and the nephew of a king, is engaged to a foreign commoner?"


    Abi nodded. Astonishingly she managed to look as if she really believed what she was saying. "That''s why I''m talking to him instead of Mirio. I''m passing messages for them so no one will suspect. They''re keeping their relationship quiet until Mirio finds a way to break it to his parents. You know how strict his father is. He''ll be furious if he knows Mirio wants to marry a commoner."


    Good lord. If this continued she''d tell her aunt they were a modern Suafin and Dahayes[2], complete with feuding families, one of them having killed the other''s mother, and an impending tragic ending if they didn''t manage to complete some impossible task. Lian elbowed Abi in the ribs to make her shut up before she dug both of their graves.


    On the bright side Jiarl¨²r no longer looked suspicious of Abi. On the less bright side she looked instead as if she was questioning everyone''s sanity, including her own. "This is the most preposterous nonsense I''ve ever heard."


    Abi gave her a look of exaggerated innocence that would be better suited to a toddler than a grown woman. Lian elbowed her again to get her to tone it down. Jiarl¨²r stared at the two of them. Lian continued pretending not to recognise her. He kept his face a mask of bland polite uninterest.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Eventually Jiarl¨²r "hmph!"ed and stalked away, muttering to herself. As soon as she was out of earshot Lian turned and glared at Abi.


    "Of all the excuses you could have found, you came up with that? What were you thinking?"


    "I wasn''t thinking at all," Abi explained, confirming his suspicions. "And it''s a good thing I said that."


    "...A good thing?" Had she hit her head on something? Lian resisted the urge to check her eyes for signs of a concussion.


    Abi nodded. "It''s so absurd that she''ll never think it''s a lie." She suddenly rolled her eyes. "Oh, be quiet."


    "I didn''t say anything."


    "Sorry, I didn''t mean you."


    Lian tried to make heads or tails out of that sentence. He failed. "The first thing dear auntie''s going to do is try to verify your story. That means she''ll ask Mirio. What do you think he''ll say when he hears that pack of lies? And when he finds out you''ve given him a fianc¨¦ and made us part of a ridiculous romance-novel plot?"


    "He won''t be happy," Abi acknowledged. "We''d better tell him before Aunt does. But don''t worry. He''s bound to be used to this by now. For years the gossip columnists have declared he''s engaged to everyone he speaks to for more than five minutes."


    <hr>


    Siarvin took the news better than Ilaran feared he would. He read the letter and said nothing for several minutes. Then he looked at the map of Saoridhl¨¦m that was pinned to the wall. "Where is Elegravan? How far is it from here?"


    "Somewhere around here, I think," Ilaran said, pointing to central Saoridhl¨¦m. "About nine hundred miles from us. I don''t think she''s likely to come all the way here for revenge."


    Siarvin shook his head. "No, that''s not her style. She''ll go into hiding somewhere until she can sneak away. She won''t do anything to attract attention, and coming all the way here would take too long."


    "If you want I''ll have wanted posters put up just in case."


    Siarvin thought for a while. "No. Better not let Shizuki know. If I had to guess I''d say she''d go to some city far away from Eldrin where she has friends and can blend in. She has no friends here and would stick out like a sore thumb."


    Ilaran unfortunately couldn''t share Siarvin''s optimism. He gave orders to the guards to be on the look-out for any suspicious foreigners lurking around the palace. Then he went to his office to compose a reply to the letter. Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Shizuki were in the archive room -- Ir¨ªm¨¦ had started work and Shizuki said he was helping, but when Ilaran glanced in the door he saw Shizuki happily making paper boats out of an empty notebook. Koyuki was out sightseeing, and Kivoduin was currently dealing with whatever new nonsense the mayor and politicians had dreamt up. Ilaran should be able to work without interruption for at least an hour.


    He got as far as addressing the envelope before he was interrupted by Abihira''s thoughts again. At once he realised something interesting was happening in Gengxin.


    "Why are you talking to a doctor? Are you ill?"


    That was Abihira''s aunt. And if Ilaran was understanding the current situation correctly, she had just met Lian. He spared a moment to be thankful he wasn''t in Abihira''s shoes right now.


    "I''m not talking to him because he''s a doctor. He''s engaged to Mirio."


    Ilaran blinked. He didn''t know either Mirio or Lian well, but he was sure that if they were engaged someone would have mentioned it before now. Telepathically he asked, What?


    Be quiet, Abi hissed. I''m trying to save our lives here!


    Unsurprisingly Abi''s aunt didn''t believe a word of it. Lian looked as if he was silently begging someone to kill him and spare him the embarrassment of this conversation. Ilaran listened in disbelief as Abi came up with something that sounded like the plot of a badly-written romantic comedy.


    When Abi''s aunt finally left Ilaran told her bluntly, That was the worst, most obvious lie I''ve ever heard.


    "Oh, be quiet," she said aloud, to Lian''s confusion.


    <hr>


    When it came to getting herself and other people in all sorts of unexpected trouble, Abi was a genius unsurpassed among Mirio''s acquaintances. He wasn''t surprised when she and Lian came to the Ninth Prince''s Palace, Abi looking sheepish and Lian looking resigned. All he thought on the subject at first was, I hope she hasn''t done something dangerous this time.


    Abi began awkwardly, "Er, Mirio, you might hear some... odd gossip from my aunt. I mean, she might ask you... Well, I used you as part of an excuse."


    Mirio groaned internally. "No need to go any further. What lie am I supposed to confirm this time?"


    Abi opened her mouth. Then she closed it again. She carefully avoided meeting Mirio''s eyes. For a moment there was an awkward silence.


    Lian broke it when he burst out laughing. "This genius has decided that we''re engaged and told her aunt all about it. She even told her that we''re tragic star-crossed lovers."


    "Shut up!" Abi hissed at him. "I didn''t say it like that!"


    "You most certainly did! Or did I imagine all that tripe about disapproving relatives?"


    Funny. They met for the first time in millennia and within hours they were bickering as if they''d known each other all their lives. Mirio watched them argue for several minutes before they remembered what they''d come to tell him. By then he had a fairly good idea of what Abi had said.


    "You told your aunt that I''m engaged to Lian so she wouldn''t be suspicious of his real identity," he said wearily. "While you were at it why didn''t you say Lian is the rightful Tsar of Yekatsheviya?"


    Abi shrugged. "I said the first thing that came into my head. So if Aunt asks you, will you say it''s true?"


    This was a terrible idea. It was going to backfire on all of them. It would probably end with one or all of them getting kicked out of the palace. Common sense told Mirio to refuse to agree. If Princess Jiarl¨²r mentioned anything about Abi''s lies, he would flatly deny them and Abi could find her own way out of the mess she''d gotten herself into.


    Then Mirio thought of Zi Yao, and what would happen to Lian if his past was revealed. His resolve weakened.


    Just think of what it would mean! he told himself. I''d have to pretend to be in love with Lian!


    No offense to Lian -- in spite of his unique situation there was nothing truly wrong with him, and he was certainly one of Mirio''s closest friends -- but Mirio had realised long ago that he was incapable of physically desiring anyone and probably incapable of falling in love with anyone too. He tried to imagine himself giving Lian the sort of sappy adoring look that his cousins gave their fianc¨¦es. He failed.


    "I can''t play at being in love with anyone," he said firmly.


    "You don''t have to! You just have to say you''re engaged to him. Plenty of people are engaged to someone they don''t love. I mean, look at me and Ir¨ªm¨¦!"


    Mirio sighed and looked at Lian. "What do you say? Do you mind if I go along with this story?"


    Lian shrugged. "As long as word doesn''t get out to the rest of the palace. Especially not to the Noble Royal Consort. She''ll use it as an excuse to claim I''m a social climber. But Aunt Jiarl¨²r won''t gossip, and she''s the only one we have to convince."


    "...All right, I''ll go along with it." He glared at Abi. "But please stop getting me into this sort of situation!"

 Chapter XI: The Monsters at the Gates

    Yet the whispers of a reckoning


    Have kept the spirits beckoning


    To look upon my crime


    -- Aviators, Godhunter


    The terrain on the other side of the river was mostly flat. On the one hand this meant Kitri could see a lot of the surrounding area. On the other this meant she could be seen from a distance. Her legs were sore and stiff after spending the night on the boat. She couldn''t run as fast as she wanted to.


    In an effort to keep her mind off the situation Kitri went over facts she''d learnt long ago in history class. All of the towns in this part of the planet were what was known in the Gradonian dialect[1] as marekansijanil -- towns surrounded by high and thick walls that could withstand direct blows from everything but the most powerful missile. They had been built millennia ago during the war with the Osne?ip Empire, when each town had been more like a large fortress than a place where civilians lived. To protect the food and arms stored in them, a long-ago general had ordered all of the towns to be surrounded by walls stronger than anything that had ever been built before.


    It worked in the most literal sense. No town in this area had ever been captured by the enemy. Unfortunately the enemy generals were smart enough to simply camp outside the gates and wait for the food to run out, and many towns had surrendered after long sieges. The Osne?ip army moved into the captured towns, and were promptly put on the receiving end of their own tactics by the Saoridhin army. Because of the amount of people who died of starvation in the many sieges, Muirus 9436 had been rumoured to be inhabited by shaberos for centuries afterwards.


    She thought of the monsters. Could they be shaberos? Judging by the bite-marks they were certainly cannibals. But shaberos were said to be intelligent and able to mimic voices to lure their victims into a trap. She couldn''t remember any myth that said they hunted in packs.


    Leave it to Abi to create a whole new type of monster, she thought bitterly.


    About a mile from the river Kitri had to stop for a rest. She sat down on the grass so she would be less conspicuous if someone happened to be looking in her direction.


    The town gates aren''t opened until nine o''clock, she reminded herself. I still have at least two hours.


    She got up and resumed walking towards the town. She was too tired to run, so instead she walked as quickly as she could. The pain in her feet, although still present, had mostly faded as she refused to pay attention to it.


    A sign placed by the roadside informed passers-by that this was the site of the Battle of Jeod during the same Saoridhl¨¦m-Osne?ip War that had prompted the building of the walls. In spite of herself Kitri couldn''t help remembering her grandmother''s stories about how battlefields were haunted, and every night the long-dead soldiers came back to re-enact their deaths. She couldn''t suppress a shudder as she hurried past the sign. In light of everything that had happened, she wouldn''t have been at all surprised to see the ghosts still fighting even though it was morning.


    Everywhere the countryside was silent. The flat land gradually turned into gentle hills. Kitri followed the road but walked beside it, where the grass was softer on her sore feet. In the distance she spotted the first farmhouse on this side of the river. When she reached the lane leading up to it she paused, debating whether to waste time checking it or whether to continue to the town.


    In the end she decided to check it. She didn''t have to go far. As soon as its front door came into view she knew. The door was wrenched off its hinges and a long streak of red covered the ground.


    With a cold, sick feeling she realised, The zombies crossed the river.


    Running water was obviously not a deterrent. By now they might be gathered outside the town walls, waiting to the gate to open.


    No one will be stupid enough to open the gate when they see those things. Kitri tried to reassure herself. It didn''t work. Hard on its heels came another thought: I''m walking towards them.


    But where else was she to go? Behind her was nothing by devastation. In front of her there was still a chance that she could find living people who could help her destroy the monsters. Maybe they would have become discouraged and wandered past the town. Maybe they were hopelessly lost in the uninhabited parts of the countryside. Maybe they''d gone back to sleep and wouldn''t wake until tomorrow.


    Kitri kept repeating those possibilities to herself as the sun rose higher and she drew closer to the town of Luinnakied. She rounded a corner in the road and found herself with a clear view of the town. Her heart sank. None of her optimistic fancies were true.


    The crowd of zombies stood silent and motionless outside the city gate.


    <hr>


    Mirio had expected that if he was required to back up Abi''s ridiculous story, it wouldn''t happen for at least a day. Luck was against him. During dinner that evening Jiarl¨²r took advantage of everyone else being distracted by the orchestra to wish him happiness for his marriage.


    "Thank you," Mirio said, while silently cursing Abi''s name.


    "How did you meet your fianc¨¦?"


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Damn it. Mirio realised two things at once. One, she obviously wasn''t fooled or she would never have been so inquisitive. Two, if he lied and didn''t tell Lian what he''d said, they''d end up contradicting each other.


    He settled on telling the truth. "I met him here. We spent a lot of time together while caring for Zi Yao."


    He doubted she was convinced, but at least she stopped questioning him.


    <hr>


    When Abi next saw Mirio he looked very annoyed with the world in general and her in particular.


    "Here," he said abruptly, taking an envelope out of his pocket. "If you think for one minute I''m going to help you get out of this mess, you have another think coming."


    He swept away without waiting for an answer, leaving a very confused Abi behind. She opened the envelope. At once all became clear. First was a telegram from Ir¨ªm¨¦. Then there was a letter from Arafaren. She read it with a sinking feeling in her chest.


    I should have known he''d figure it out eventually, she thought.


    There was only one good thing. Her parents already knew about the necromancy so it would do him no good to tell them. And she knew so many of Arafaren''s secrets that he couldn''t tell anyone else.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s telegram was much more alarming. That made three people who sensed something odd was happening somewhere: Abi herself, Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Ilaran. Four, if she included Lian''s comment about her magic.


    Speaking of Lian, he was the resident expert on necromancy and certainly knew much more about it than Abi had learnt -- or that she now wanted to know. If anyone could figure out what was wrong it would be him.


    <hr>


    Luinnakied had followed a strict schedule for longer than its older relatives had been alive. The gates were closed and locked punctually at ten o''clock in summer and seven o''clock in winter. Anyone who came to the gates after that would just have to wait until morning -- mainly because the gates were very old, very heavy, and the machinery that opened and closed them was very noisy. Opening them more than once a day was simply impractical. Now that there were no invading armies threatening the town, a guesthouse outside the walls provided shelter for people who couldn''t get in. But this happened so rarely that the townsfolk couldn''t remember the last time someone had stayed at the guesthouse.


    A ledge ran along the inside of the wall just behind the parapet. Years ago it had been used by soldiers shooting down at the enemies outside. Now it was used only by the night watchmen who kept an eye out for cattle and horse thieves. Late that night two of them walked silently along the walls, both internally counting down the minutes until their shift ended.


    It was an oddly silent night. Usually they could hear owls or bats. Now they couldn''t even hear the horses in the stables below. Not so much as a breath of wind disturbed the quiet.


    At almost five in the morning one of them stopped and listened.


    "What is it, Yireyi?" her companion asked.


    "I don''t know. It sounds like footsteps."


    Both of them listened intently.


    "If those are footsteps then there''s a big crowd down there," Raunen said.


    The lanterns were all on the inside of the walls, meant to give light to the watchmen without shining on the ground outside. Yireyi tried to remove the candle from one. She failed. Raunen went back into the guardhouse and lit a candle at the flame. He held it over the wall. It burned steadily, without even the slightest flicker. But its light was too faint to reach all the way to the ground.


    Abruptly a sound pierced the silence. It sounded as loud as if it was right next to them. Both of them jumped. For a minute they couldn''t figure out what it was. Then they realised at almost the same time. It was someone -- or something -- scratching at a door. Then they moved onto rattling the handle. Yireyi looked down at the nearby buildings to see if someone had been locked out of their house.


    Crash!


    The person who had been locked out had apparently decided to break the door down. And there was no doubt about it. The sound had come from the other side of the wall.


    "Who''s there?" Raunen shouted in his sternest voice.


    A chorus of hisses like a nest of angry snakes answered him, accompanied by growls and moans. He held the candle over the parapet. They both leant over to get a good look. This time the light glinted on something below them. Something that turned out to be a mass of eyes and teeth. Weird and inhuman growls rose from whatever was below them.


    Someone screamed. It was a scream of terror and agony. Suddenly it was cut off, and silence fell again.


    Yireyi and Raunen stared at each other. Their faces were ghastly pale in the lantern-light.


    "I think that was the guesthouse owner," Raunen said faintly.


    "What the hell is out there?" Old fairy-tales came back to Yireyi, stories of monstrous dogs and hungry ghosts. Faint thuds came from the gate, as if something was trying to shove its way in. "We''d better ring the bell."


    The bell was only meant to be rung if a fire broke out. But this was no time to worry about that sort of thing. Raunen climbed up to the bell-tower above the guardhouse and rang the bell as if his life depended on it.


    Within minutes most of the town was out in the streets. A dozen voices shouted, "Where''s the fire?"


    "There''s no fire," Yireyi admitted, "but come up here and bring lights. Something weird is down there."


    Angry murmurs filled the square, but a few people obligingly brought torches and climbed up the stairs to the walkway. They shone them over the wall. Everyone on the walkway gasped in unison.


    People stood below them, people so bloodstained and injured that they shouldn''t be able to move. They snarled and recoiled from the light.


    <hr>


    The monsters stayed outside the wall for the rest of the night. The telegram operator ran to her office, turned on the machine, and sent an urgent message to every town and city in the area. She got many incredulous replies, and quite a few people asked her what she''d been drinking, but she responded to all these with assurances that it was all absolutely true.


    When the sun rose it shone on a grisly scene. The state of the monsters'' bodies became horrifically clear. How anything could move when its throat had been ripped open was a mystery. The stories of hungry ghosts came back vividly to everyone.


    A trail of blood ran out of the guesthouse door. To everyone''s shock they recognised the guesthouse owner among the crowd, missing an ear and with their intestines hanging out.


    When the sun rose high enough to shine over the town walls, a sudden change came over the crowd. They staggered back. Then they turned and shambled away. The townsfolk on the walls watched with baited breath for them to come back. But they disappeared over the hills, and there was no sign of them returning.


    <hr>


    Kitri''s blood ran cold when she saw the monsters leave the walls. With a sick feeling in her stomach she watched them head towards her. She had no weapon to fight them off. There was nowhere to hide unless she ran back to the farmhouse and barricaded herself inside.


    Instead of following the road towards her, however, they veered off to the left and were soon out of view behind a hill. Kitri waited for several minutes until she was sure they were gone. Then she got up and sprinted towards the city.

 Chapter XII: Abi Finds Out

    Fault-lines tremble underneath my glass house


    -- Sleeping At Last, Earth


    Zi Yao took a careful step towards the window. Lian and Lady Yuan hovered behind him, far enough away that he was walking on his own but close enough to catch him if he fell. He made it safely to the window before his legs began to wobble. His mother promptly scooped him up and carried him back to bed in spite of his protests.


    "That''s enough walking for you today," she told him as his servants tucked him in.


    "He''s getting stronger," Lian said. "Tomorrow I think he''ll be strong enough to have a short walk in the garden."


    Someone coughed politely behind him. He turned to find a servant he didn''t recognise. The man bowed to Lady Yuan then told Lian, "The foreign princess wishes to see you urgently."


    Lian blinked in confusion. "Me? Are you sure she doesn''t want to see Prince Mirio?"


    "No, sir. She specifically stated she means you, and said she wants to meet you at the bridge. She told me you would know the place she means."


    <hr>


    When Lian arrived at the bridge he found Abi pacing back and forth.


    "You said there was something wrong with my magic," she started without any explanation. "What did you mean? Is it still there?"


    Lian studied her magic. "Yes, it''s as if you''ve cast a spell that''s sustaining itself."


    Abi nodded grimly as if she''d thought as much. "What sort of spell is it?"


    That unfortunately was a question he couldn''t answer. She''d need to ask a scholar who specialised in how different spells affected a person''s magic. "I don''t think it was cast recently. It looks like it''s been there for about a month. Long enough to establish itself and not need any conscious thought to control it."


    "Do you think it''s necromancy?"


    He paused and thought very hard for a while. "I can''t tell. Honestly it looks more like a healing spell."


    Abi made an exasperated noise and resumed her pacing. "I''ve never cast any healing spells. I don''t know how. Unless you count resurrecting Ilaran, and look how that''s gone for both of us."


    Lian looked at her magic again. There was something about it that he knew should seem familiar. After a minute he realised what it was. "Have you by any chance visited the Land of the Dead?" Abi nodded with a shudder. "It''s left its mark on your magic."


    "Then it is necromancy."


    <hr>


    To Ilaran''s relief the telepathic link seemed to fade after a day of consciously trying to block it out. Abihira''s thoughts became increasingly indistinct and finally turned into nothing but a faint hum in the background. Therefore he wasn''t amused when she did the telepathic equivalent of knocking at his door and then coming in anyway. He was especially unamused because she did it during a council meeting.


    What do you want? I''m busy! he snapped. Luckily he had perfected the art of keeping a blank expression at all times. Councillor Osiamil continued droning on in the background, blissfully unaware that his prince wasn''t even listening. But then, Ilaran rarely listened to Osiamil. The man hadn''t had an original thought in his life and only stayed on the council because his county -- for reasons beyond Ilaran''s comprehension -- continued to elect him vatun[1] after vatun.


    Sorry. I just wanted to ask if you still feel something strange.


    Ilaran considered this for a moment. Yes, I do.


    Have you heard about anything that might be causing it? Reports of, well, walking corpses or anything like that?


    Ilaran very nearly let his shock show on his face. He dug his fingernails into his palm to distract himself. I thought you said you only raised one! he yelled at Abihira.


    I did! Well, sort of. I also raised a few skeletons. But I think I un-raised them again. I''m not sure. It happened on Muirus 9436. Could you check if there''s any news there?


    Yes, he certainly would check. And if it turned out she''d unleashed a plague of man-eating monsters onto an unsuspecting planet, there would be hell to pay.


    Icily he said, It may interest you to know my homeland has a proverb meant as a warning to ambitious magicians: Ahab¨¢m¨ªn tur tsyeyel, jhalibosz gel?¨ª leknem. For you it should be Ahilorom¨ªn tur tsyeyel, jhalibosz ?merg bikvnem.


    ...What does that mean?


    The first one: do not cast spells you cannot undo. The second: do not call up that which you cannot put down[2].


    <hr>


    Everyone on the walls watched warily as the single figure approached. Various people offered their opinions on what to do.


    "It''s just one person. One person isn''t dangerous, right?"


    "They''re dangerous! Get a crossbow and shoot them before they attack!"


    "How exactly do you think they''re going to attack when the gates are closed?"


    "Look, she isn''t covered in blood. I think she''s a normal person."


    They all fell quiet at that remark. Now that they looked more closely -- and now that the figure was near enough to be seen clearly -- they realised the speaker was right. Whoever she was, the person below was uninjured and running much faster than any of the monsters had. When she got within hearing range someone shouted down to her.


    "Hey! Did you see the monsters?"


    She was too out of breath to answer. She didn''t stop running until she reached the town wall, and then she practically collapsed against it while gasping for air.


    "Get a ladder!" she shouted when she could talk. "Whatever you do don''t open the gates! Those things will wake up later and come back!"


    A chorus of horrified exclamations followed that. Someone ran down the stairs to fetch a ladder. They brought it up to the walkway and lowered it over the wall as quickly as if their lives depended on it. The woman scrambled up the ladder at lightning speed.


    "I need to get a message to Saoridhl¨¦m," she said before she explained anything.


    One of the townsfolk said, "We''ve already sent messages to the capital. They''ll send word to Saoridhl¨¦m."


    She shook her head. "I need to get a message to a specific person. The person who caused this."


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    <hr>


    The telegraph office of Gradon¨¦, capital city of Muirus 9436, rarely received any interesting messages. The vast majority of telegrams to come to it were about riveting subjects such as "Someone''s letting their cow into my vegetable garden" and "I forgot your birthday but don''t worry, I''m bringing a gift home with me". Therefore the telegraph operators were shocked to receive an urgent -- and even more unusual, a very long -- telegram for the prime minister.


    "Crowd of monsters outside Luinnakied stop Possibly shaberos stop All night they tried to get in stop Send help at once stop Town in danger stop."


    When that message was transcribed the workers stared blankly at each other.


    "It''s a drunkard''s idea of a joke," one of them said.


    Another shook his head. "At two yaim a word? No one spends fifty-two yaim[3] for a joke, not even a drunkard."


    Eventually they took the telegram to their boss. She read it then looked at them as if they were very stupid. "Well? What are you waiting for? Send it through to the prime minister''s secretary!"


    One of them objected. "But ma''am, we don''t know if it''s true. It sounds ridiculous."


    "Who cares if it''s true? It''s the most exciting thing that''s happened in this city since that boat blocked the main shipping route. And if it''s just someone trying to put their hometown on the map, let''s help them do it!"


    <hr>


    After that meeting Ilaran went in search of Kivoduin. As he expected he found her in her office poring over the household accounts.


    "We need to reduce the amount of candles we use," she said. "Have you seen the size of the bill from the candlemakers?"


    He had, and he would have some questions for certain members of his staff about just why they''d needed so much light. He''d heard rumours of a distillery heated over candles in one of the butler''s pantries. Long ago he''d learnt not to interfere in what the staff did in their free time, but he drew the line if it was costing him money.


    Ilaran pushed that thought aside and focused on the reason he''d come. "I need to find out what''s happening on Muirus 9436."


    Kivoduin didn''t bat an eyelash. "I''ll have the information within two hours."


    True to her word, she came to him after an hour and a half with a faintly troubled expression. Ilaran''s heart sank.


    "It''s very odd," she began. "There''s certainly something happening there, but no one seems to know what. The prime minister''s office received a telegram this morning telling everyone that hungry ghosts are besieging a city. The prime minister laughed it off. Now all of the capital''s newspapers have received the same telegram and are using it to sell more copies. It seems the prevailing thought is that it''s an elaborate prank, but some people believe the telegram. There''s talk of sending the army to investigate."


    Ilaran''s blood ran cold. If the hungry ghosts were possessed like he had been, then everyone they bit would get possessed too. The more people who went to investigate, the further and faster the possessions would spread. "Thank you," he said more calmly than he felt. "Pass that information along to Empress Raiv¨ªth. I''m sure she can draw her own conclusions from it."


    Kivoduin didn''t ask why he was suddenly so interested in a planet he''d never mentioned before, and he didn''t volunteer the information. Both of them knew each other so well that they know when explanations were required and when it was simpler to do something without explaining. She left without another word. Ilaran reopened the telepathic link.


    You blithering idiot! It''s lucky for you you''re so far away because if I could get my hands on you I''d send you to meet Death again!


    He felt Abihira''s shock turn to horror. You mean--


    Yes. You''ve unleashed god alone knows how many parasites on that planet.


    I''ve got to do something to stop it!


    How?


    An uncomfortable pause followed as Abihira realised she didn''t know how. Well, I exorcised you, didn''t I?


    Do you intend to turn into a phoenix and burn all of the parasites?


    Yes, if I have to. Have you any better suggestions?


    No, he had to concede he hadn''t. At least, not unless... Wait a minute. Ir¨ªm¨¦''s a dragon and dragons breathe fire. If you''re going to stop the zombie apocalypse, you might as well take him with you.


    <hr>


    Lian wasn''t really surprised when Mirio invited him to tea and he found Abi there too, looking even more agitated than she had this morning.


    "I''ve made an awful mistake," she announced. "The corpses I raised first? They''re still awake and they''re on the loose. I have to go and get rid of them."


    Mirio made a noise somewhere between a groan and a humourless laugh. "And if you think for one minute that I''m letting you go alone, then necromancy has done something to your mind."


    She scowled at him. "You can''t come with me! I''ll have a hard enough time sneaking out alone without being caught."


    "You''re going to insult your hosts if you run off without an explanation," Lian pointed out.


    Abi nodded solemnly. "I know, but that can''t be helped. I have to do something."


    "I have an idea," Mirio said. "The two of you go. Then I''ll tell your aunt -- and," he grimaced, "my uncle -- that Lian has gone to fulfil a challenge to prove himself worthy of marrying me, and Abi has gone to help him. That might stop them thinking too harshly of you."


    There was a moment''s dead silence. Abi and Lian stared at him as if he''d started speaking in a foreign language.


    "That," Lian said flatly, "is the stupidest thing I''ve ever heard. In fact it''s so ridiculous... it will probably work."


    <hr>


    It was an unfortunate turn of events that led to the real disaster. After much arguing with the rest of parliament the prime minister ordered the army to investigate the situation. By the time the first group of soldiers were in the vicinity of Luinnakied, it was evening. Within minutes of the sun setting, things began to stir in the forests and empty houses. And soldiers on the march made a lot of noise.


    <hr>


    Yireyi''s head snapped up. "Did you hear that?"


    Her mother paused in the middle of pouring her a cup of tea. "Hear what?"


    "Screaming. In the distance."


    Most of the townsfolk had crowded into the town-hall and there was so much noise it was hard to hear anything. After a minute her mother shook her head. "I don''t hear anything."


    Yireyi got up and went to the main door. She listened in the doorway. There it was. There was no doubt about it: people were screaming.


    <hr>


    The soldiers who had stayed at the base went on with their duties and then turned in. They weren''t particularly surprised that their comrades hadn''t come back yet, and -- since there were currently no enemies threatening to invade the planet -- they left the gates open.


    Late at night the guards noticed a strange sound, like a large group of people running towards them.


    "Who goes there?" they shouted.


    No one answered. Out of the darkness streamed a ghastly group, soaked in blood and snarling like animals. The guards had no chance to open fire or sound the alarm. Within minutes the barracks were overrun.


    From the barracks the city of Nihred was clearly visible. Its lights shone like a beacon, and drew every monster towards them.


    <hr>


    It took Ir¨ªm¨¦ very little time to find his way around the archives in Viniok Palace. He carefully took note of everything in each folder, added each topic mentioned in it to a reference book he was compiling, and placed the folder in a clearly-marked space set aside for it. No one could possibly put a folder in the wrong place after he was done with it. And if anyone messed up his filing system, heaven help them.


    In spite of how boring the work seemed Ir¨ªm¨¦ found he enjoyed it. There was nothing stressful about it, he had plenty of free time in which to write his stories, and he didn''t have to work with anyone so he could give free reign to his own ideas. Ilaran checked on his work the first few days and then left him to himself. It was the most peace Ir¨ªm¨¦ had got in his life.


    That was why it was a nasty shock when Ilaran came to the archive room looking grim. "I have very bad news," he said.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked around at his work nervously. "Have I done something wrong?"


    "No, not you. It''s Abihira. She''s set more parasites loose on an unsuspecting planet. I''m going to send you to help her destroy them."


    There were several things Ir¨ªm¨¦ could say to that. They included "why hasn''t she told me herself?" and "she''s done what?". Instead he settled on the most important one. "Why me? How can I help her?"


    "You''re a dragon immortal, and fire kills the parasites."


    <hr>


    When the sun rose over Muirus 9436 it shone on a scene of devastation. Nihred was a shambles. Trains had derailed, buildings were on fire, and blood covered the streets. A crowd, much larger now than it had been before, shambled slowly out of the city in search of more prey.


    The city''s mayor had barricaded herself into her bedroom when she heard the screams drawing closer. Now that there was silence she risked removing the furniture piled in front of the door and opened it a crack. The landing outside was covered with blood. She opened the door far enough to poke her head out. A trail of bloody footprints led downstairs. There was no sign of a body on this floor.


    The murderers must have gone, she thought. Unaware of what was really happening, she assumed her house had been attacked by a band of murderers.


    Very slowly she tiptoed out of the room and up the stairs that led to the roof and to her personal flying machine stored there. A dead girl lay sprawled on the stairs. Her chest had been torn open and her internal organs spilled out. The mayor tiptoed past her with a shudder.


    The girl''s head snapped to the side and she sank her teeth into the mayor''s ankle. The mayor yelled and kicked her away. She stumbled up the rest of the stairs and onto the roof. Only after she was safely in her flying machine did she take the time to check her ankle.


    The skin was broken. She wiped away the blood and tied her handkerchief around the wound. Then she took off and headed for Gradon¨¦.

 Chapter XIII: More About Lian

    ''Pardon,'' he said, ''I''m a bit rattled tonight. You see, I happen at this moment to be dead.'' -- John Buchan, The Thirty-Nine Steps


    "The mistake people always make in trying to sneak out of a place," Lian said in the voice of one who spoke both with authority and from experience, "is to try to be clever. They gather a large supply of food then leave it until midnight before they leave. Anyone who catches them knows at once what they''re doing and it''s no use trying to make excuses. No, the way to sneak out is to go in broad daylight. Don''t bring anything with you except money. Act as if you''re going to the shops and will be back in an hour or two. No one will pay any attention and you can get a good distance away before they become suspicious."


    Abi nodded. "So we just pretend we''re going on a shopping trip. But we can''t go together or someone will start to ask questions."


    "No one stops you from going sight-seeing," Lian said. "I''ll explain everything to Lady Yuan and tell everyone else I''m going on an errand. We''ll meet outside the post office."


    "What about Zi Yao?" Mirio asked.


    "I''ll leave instructions for his care. Hopefully I''ll be back within the week, and he should be all right in the palace physicians'' care until then."


    Abi looked uncomfortable. "I''m sorry. I''ve uprooted your life here, haven''t I?"


    Lian nodded. "Don''t be too upset. I''ve had leave places very quickly many times before. At least this time I''m not being chased away and have a chance of being allowed to return. Besides, mather¨ªarduan kalugan[1], a phrase I should have paid more attention to a long time ago."


    "Ir¨ªm¨¦''s going to join us somewhere," Abi said. "I suppose we''ll meet up with him in Tananerl."


    Both Lian and Mirio looked blank.


    Lian asked, "Who?"


    At the same time Mirio said, "How do you know? How does he know anything about this?"


    There was a moment''s uncomfortable silence in which Abi appeared to be trying to think of a convincing lie. At last she gave it up. "This is going to sound insane."


    "More insane than necromancy-created monsters attacking a town? More insane than a random doctor just happening to be your long-lost brother?"


    "...Fair point. Well, to summarise, I accidentally got a distant cousin possessed. Then I got him unpossessed, and now we''re telepathically linked. I asked him to find out what''s happening on Muirus 9436. Ir¨ªm¨¦''s working for him, so he said he''s going to send him to help."


    Lian held up his hand. "Two questions. Which distant cousin? And who is Ir¨ªm¨¦?"


    "Ilaran, Prince of Tananerl. Do you know him?"


    Lian shook his head. "Heard of him but never met him. Didn''t he kill his own father?"


    "...Maybe, but that''s not important," Abi said, while in the background Mirio exclaimed, "What?"


    Lian nodded slowly, looking as if he was beginning to question everyone''s sanity. "You''re telepathically linked to the Prince of Tananerl who is giving you updates on what happens on planet what''s-its-name. All right. Now who is Ir¨ªm¨¦ and why would he be any use on this mission? Is he a necromancer too?"


    "He''s my fianc¨¦. He''s coming because fire kills the monsters, and he''s a dragon immortal."


    There was another pause while Lian tried to wrap his mind around all of this new information. "I see," he said at last, in a voice that implied he didn''t really see. "Well, we''d better start planning our route."


    "The best place to get a spaceship to Muirus 9436 is in Eldrin," Abi said, remembering her previous trips there.


    "You can''t go to Eldrin," Mirio objected. "Everyone will be looking for you."


    "We''ll go to the spaceport in Dhaldar instead," Lian said.


    Abi stared at him. "Dhaldar? Why Dhaldar? It''s so far north it''s practically on the other side of the planet."


    "Precisely. No one will expect you to go there. Where''s that map?"


    Mirio unrolled the map of Gengxin and put it on the table. The three of them studied it for a while. Lian pointed at a city.


    "There. Sisheng is the closest port to Tananerl. We get a ship there, meet your Ir¨ªm¨¦ in--" He examined the towns on Tananerl''s coast and the railways that connected them to the rest of Saoridhl¨¦m, "--R¨¢k?vesd. Then we take the train to Dhaldar. Bad news: it''ll take two days and our family will be looking for us. This would be so much simpler if we didn''t have to meet up with Ir¨ªm¨¦. We could just get on a spaceship here in Tiansheng and be on Muirus 9436 by this evening."


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Abi thought for a while. "I''ll ask Ilaran to send Ir¨ªm¨¦ to Muirus 9436 on his own. We''ll meet up with him in Gradon¨¦."


    <hr>


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked around at his room with some regret. He''d spent ages finding places to put all his belongings, and now he didn''t even get to live in it for a full week. He hadn''t even had time to sort all of his clothes into his wardrobe.


    He''d learnt his lesson from last time. For this trip he packed only one change of clothes, two pairs of underwear, and one pair of boots. His suitcase was much easier to carry than all the heavy luggage he''d brought when he first arrived. There was a bathroom attached to his bedroom.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ left his suitcase open on the bed while he went to get his hairbrush. He didn''t notice a small green snake dart across the room and burrow beneath his clothes. When he put the hairbrush in the suitcase he closed it without bothering to go through his clothes again.


    <hr>


    An hour after Ir¨ªm¨¦ left, a very agitated Koyuki barged into Siarvin''s room. "Have you seen Shizuki?"


    Siarvin looked out the window. "Isn''t he playing on the swing?"


    The answer to that was only too clear. The swing was empty.


    "He must have gone to the stables," Siarvin suggested.


    Koyuki shook his head. "I checked. I also checked in the library, and the schoolroom, and Ilaran''s office, and the kitchens, and everywhere else he might possibly be. No sign of him anywhere."


    A horrible dread began to take root in Siarvin''s mind. "You don''t think--"


    They looked at each other. Both knew what the other was thinking without having to say it.


    "He wouldn''t be so stupid," Koyuki said. "And Ir¨ªm¨¦ wouldn''t have allowed him to come with him."


    "We''ll search the city," Siarvin said, "and then..."


    He trailed off. With an icy chill he realised that if they didn''t find Shizuki, there was only one likely option and it was the worst one imaginable.


    Koyuki''s thoughts ran along the same lines. "At least he''s with Ir¨ªm¨¦. Nothing can hurt him when he''s with a dragon."


    Siarvin wished he could share his optimism.


    <hr>


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ watched with interest as the stars flew past the windows. They went far too quickly to be recognisable as any constellations he''d seen before. Placed in front of his seat was a star chart showing the ship''s current location. He watched the little dot representing the ship move past the edge of the Gimgarn-Therrom Galaxy. Another little dot labelled Muirus 9436 appeared at the top of the chart. It drew nearer and nearer to the ship.


    His suitcase rattled. Ir¨ªm¨¦ continued staring at the chart for a minute before he realised what he''d just seen. He turned and gave it a suspicious look. There was no turbulence to disturb it. What could make it--


    It rattled again, this time with enough force to make it overbalance. He grabbed it before it fell and unfastened the clasps. It opened. At once he groaned.


    "Shizuki! What do you think you''re doing here?"


    The snake hissed unrepentantly. He curled up on top of Ir¨ªm¨¦''s coat and looked very pleased with himself. Ir¨ªm¨¦ took a deep breath and told himself not to panic.


    "Shizuki, listen. Your father will be very worried about you, and you shouldn''t be here at all. I don''t know what I''ll find on this planet. It might be dangerous. You have to go right back home as soon as we arrive."


    Shizuki thought for a minute, then shook his head emphatically. Ir¨ªm¨¦ groaned.


    "I don''t care what you say, I''m going to send you back on this spaceship and I''ll tell the captain not to let you out of his sight until you''re safely home with Siarvin."


    Over the intercom a voice announced, "We will arrive in Gradon¨¦ in ten minutes. Please fasten your seatbelt."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ fastened his, then realised Shizuki didn''t have one. "Look, I''m going to have to close the suitcase. You won''t mind, will you?"


    Shizuki shook his head. Ir¨ªm¨¦ closed the suitcase and waited impatiently for the spaceship to land.


    <hr>


    Travel between Vanerth and Muirus 9436 was fairly common. Muirus 9436 was home to a breed of sheep who produced very fine, much-sought-after wool that was exported back to Saoridhl¨¦m, and from there to the rest of Vanerth. It was easy to find a spaceship heading there and even easier to buy two tickets.


    Abi watched Tiansheng disappear beneath them and tried not to think about what was waiting for her. There was a possibility she would be able to un-possess some of the people. But it was almost certain that most of them would be like the unfortunate servant: dead and reanimated by a parasite. In that case she couldn''t think of any solution but to kill them. It was not a thought she liked.


    To take her mind off that she asked Lian, "How did you end up in Gengxin?"


    "I was running away. You know the Kuarajm? Empire[2]?"


    Abi nodded. "There''s a war going on there."


    Lian winced. "Yes, well... You know the kingdom of T?flis?? I used to live there. I owned a bookshop and lived a very quiet life. But five hundred years ago I lived in Kuarajm? and I still understand the language. So when Kuarajm? invaded and I was drafted into the T?flis? army along with everyone else in the capital, I offered to go and spy on the enemy.


    "My commanding officer agreed. So I pretended to have a very public argument with him, he pretended to arrest me, and then I stormed out of the camp and went to the Kuarajm? emperor pretending to feel very badly treated and wanting revenge on all of T?flis?. I gave him information that my commanding officer had told me to give, and the emperor acted on it and led his armies to attack the capital. But the general defending the capital mistakenly believed the attack would be on the west gate. The emperor attacked the poorly-defended east gate and conquered the capital.


    "He held it for over a month, during which time I pretended to be loyal to him while quietly gathering information against his army. Then


    one of his commanders rebelled and the emperor left to deal with him. As soon as he was gone the T?flisian army liberated the capital. And then I was in a nasty position, because my commanding officer had been killed and couldn''t vouch for me.


    "I gave them all the information I''d collected on the Kuarajmians, but as far as they were concerned my fight with the officer had been real and I really had betrayed them. The general''s mistake didn''t help matters. Eventually they decided to kill me -- they didn''t know I''m immortal. They sent an assassin to my prison cell. He took me by surprise and stabbed me in the heart. Then I took him by surprise and cut his throat. I put on his clothes, left the prison, and got as far away from there as I could. I got on a boat to Gengxin, decided I liked it enough to stay, and became an apprentice to a doctor in Tiansheng. I successfully treated another patient who had seizures, so the doctor recommended me to the imperial physicians and that''s how I became Zi Yao''s doctor.


    "So you see," he finished, "I''m not a stranger to having to leave a place in a hurry."


    Abi stared at him in stunned silence.

 Chapter XIV: The Necromancers

    And all of the horses


    And all of the men


    Won''t put it back in place


    Or bury it where it had been


    -- Starset, Something Wicked


    "We will arrive in Gradon¨¦ in four minutes. Please fasten your seatbelt."


    "We will arrive in Gradon¨¦ in three minutes. Please fasten your seatbelt."


    "We will arrive in Gradon¨¦ in two minutes."


    All right, Ir¨ªm¨¦ wanted to shout at the voice. Everyone heard you. You don''t have to keep repeating it.


    There was a shudder and then a thump. The spaceship shook in a very dizzying way. Ir¨ªm¨¦ closed his eyes and prayed for it to stop soon. At last it did.


    "We have arrived in Gradon¨¦. Have a nice day!"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ undid his seatbelt and very carefully picked up the suitcase. He tried not to jar Shizuki too much as he made his way with the rest of the passengers -- there weren''t many; just a tour group returning home after their holiday -- to the spaceship door.


    The radio crackled. A garbled voice issued from the speakers. "Attention--" Indistinct "--do not land repeat--" Indistinct "--land extreme da--" Indistinct "--leave at once." In the background of the message something that sounded like screams and roars could be heard.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ clutched the suitcase tighter to his chest. He knew deep in his bones and without needing to be told that this was the result of whatever Abi had done.


    For several minutes the doors remained closed while the pilots tried to contact whoever had sent the message. Ir¨ªm¨¦ could hear snippets of their conversation accidentally broadcast over the speakers. Most of it was only one or two words, meaningless out of context, but he distinctly heard one phrase. "I can''t get anyone to answer anywhere."


    What the hell have you done, Abi? he yelled even though he knew Abi couldn''t hear him.


    Just how bad was the situation? He''d expected something like Ilaran''s possession: bad, but contained in one area. From the sound of things this was much more widespread.


    One of the tour group lost her patience. "Are these doors never going to open?"


    She tugged at the handle, ignoring her friends'' worried remarks of, "I think we''d better wait. It sounds like something''s wrong out there."


    On the wall beside the door was a handle labelled "Lock Override. Use Only In Emergency". Ir¨ªm¨¦ watched in horror as the woman grabbed it and pulled.


    "Stop it!" he shouted. "You''re going to get us killed!"


    She ignored him. One of her friends looked at him disapprovingly and said, "Don''t be silly. It''s not as serious as that."


    The doors unlocked. Ir¨ªm¨¦ backed away. Something screeched.


    "Get away from the door!" Ir¨ªm¨¦ shouted.


    Instead of listening a tourist tried to push the door open. Something collided with the outside of the spaceship.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ panicked. He turned and ran back into the seating area, clutching the suitcase and searching for somewhere to hide. There was nowhere among the chairs. At the back of the seating area were the bathrooms. He ran into the closest one, locked the door and placed his suitcase in front of it to barricade it.


    Blood-curdling screams filled the spaceship. Ir¨ªm¨¦ heard someone run into the bathroom next to him. Something hit the door before they could close it. Their shrieks were abruptly cut off.


    In all the chaos Ir¨ªm¨¦ had almost forgotten about Shizuki. He nearly screamed when his suitcase suddenly rattled. He covered his mouth with his hand and bit down on his lip to keep himself quiet.


    The spaceship had gone deathly quiet when he calmed down enough to realise who was making the suitcase rattle. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had climbed onto the shelf beside the sink because there was a window above it and he had acted on the vague and mostly unconscious idea that he might be able to escape there. Now he saw that the window was the sort that couldn''t be opened.


    Very slowly and carefully he climbed down from the shelf. His shoes made a slight noise on the floor. He froze and waited to see if anything had heard him. Nothing attempted to break through the door. He tiptoed to the suitcase and opened it as quietly as he could. Shizuki slithered out of it and wrapped himself around Ir¨ªm¨¦''s chest. He was trembling. His head kept moving from side to side and his tongue darted out every few seconds.


    "Don''t change forms," Ir¨ªm¨¦ whispered. "Don''t make any noise."


    Shizuki nodded. Ir¨ªm¨¦ wrapped his arms around Shizuki in an awkward but hopefully reassuring hug. Then they waited for some sign it was safe to leave the room.


    A red puddle trickled under the door. Ir¨ªm¨¦ tried to sit at an angle that kept Shizuki from seeing it.


    <hr>


    For the rest of the journey Abi questioned Lian about his other adventures. She wasn''t entirely convinced they were all true, but according to him he''d once had to impersonate a king during his coronation because the real king was too hung-over to attend. Then he had helped track down a suspected serial killer who turned out to be just a lethally incompetent doctor. In comparison her own experiences seemed positively mundane and unremarkable.


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    "Can you teleport?" she asked out of curiosity.


    All immortals could teleport to some degree, but it was an unreliable and hard-to-control skill that few people bothered with it.


    Lian shook his head. "It''s not true teleportation, but I can travel through the Void. I don''t recommend it," he added warningly when he saw Abi sit up and look intrigued. "Things live there that you don''t want to meet. It strips all illusions away and shows you as you truly are, or maybe as your soul is, and it can be an incredibly gory spectacle. My own is horrifying. And Death also uses it to travel. So do her servants. I''ve have some very awkward encounters with them."


    At the mention of Death Abi lost all interest in that form of travel. She would be very happy to never meet or even hear about Death again.


    By now the spaceship was getting close to Muirus 9436. A voice over the intercom informed the passengers to fasten their seatbelts. Then something unexpected happened.


    "Attention, all passengers. This is the captain speaking. We have received reports that there is a battle raging in the capital between the police and a gang of murderers. We have been refused landing permission and been ordered to turn back. We understand that this is a terrible inconvenience and we will make sure everyone is compensated for--"


    Abi didn''t listen to the rest of the message. She stared at Lian. Lian stared at her. Both of them thought the exact same thing.


    "It''s the monsters," Lian said gloomily. "They''ve already attacked the capital."


    Abi tried not to think about what that meant for the capital''s hapless residents. "We have to get down there."


    The spaceship had already started to turn around. If they didn''t do something soon they''d be taken right back to Vanerth, and then what would they do?


    "Can you reach the Void from here?" Abi asked.


    Lian stared at her, looked like he was about to object, then answered with resignation. "I can reach it from anywhere. But I told you, it''s not the sort of place anyone wants to go. It''s dangerous."


    "But I''m going with you, and the two of us together are as dangerous as anything lurking there."


    "...I might be. But you? Being an incompetent necromancer does not make you dangerous to anyone except other immortals."


    "I''m a phoenix immortal. I''ve already destroyed one monster. I can destroy a few more if I have to."


    Lian was silent for a while. The spaceship completed its turn and began its journey back to Vanerth. With every passing second they were carried further and further away from Muirus 9436.


    "All right," Lian said at last. "But if something goes wrong, don''t say I didn''t warn you."


    He took her hand and held it almost painfully tightly. The spaceship disappeared. Abi couldn''t tell if she was standing on solid ground or simply floating in nothingness. She was surrounded by brilliant light and deep darkness. Colours she had no words to describe danced around her. Lian still held her hand. She looked over at him and got a horrible shock.


    He hadn''t been joking when he said his appearance in the Void was horrifying. With one eye she could see he still looked the same as he normally did. With the other she saw him as a monster, a skeleton that was partially a bird, with multiple mouths and needle-like teeth. An gaping wound took up the space within his ribcage.


    Abi stared. Then she looked down at herself. To her horror she saw that her arms were partially skeletal, she was surrounded by blue fire, and half of her body was bizarrely bird-like. Her right arm was a wing covered in feathers made of fire which seemed to hover above bare bone. She wasn''t quite as monstrous as Lian -- she didn''t have any wounds or extra mouths -- but she was still something that belonged in a nightmare.


    She suddenly had a sensation of moving at incredible speed. When they left the Void it was like surfacing after swimming underwater. For a minute everything was blurred and nothing made sense. Then the world righted itself and the two of them were in the middle of a deserted spaceport.


    "I warned you," Lian said in reply to the stunned look Abi gave him.


    "What the hell was that? You were so... so..." Words failed her. She settled for gesturing helplessly at his chest where the wound had been.


    Lian muttered something that sounded like, "You didn''t exactly look like a jelenkirith[1] either."


    Abi would have made a sarcastic retort if the circumstances had been different. As it was, she let the matter drop and surveyed their surroundings.


    The place didn''t look as if there was a sinister reason for its emptiness. There were no bloodstains or bodies lying around. And yet it had certainly been abandoned in a hurry. So much of a hurry that people had left their luggage behind. Some of it lay in the middle of the floor as if its owners had flung it down while running for the exit.


    "Wait here," Lian said. "I''m going to check through those doors. If you can turn into a phoenix at will, this would be a good time to do it."


    He warily approached the doors on the far side of the room. Abi watched with bated breath as he pushed them open. They didn''t squeak. Nothing came charging at them from the other side. Lian stuck his head through them.


    "I can see the landing area," he called back to her. "There''s a spaceship from Saoridhl¨¦m outside. It must be the one Ir¨ªm¨¦ arrived on."


    "Is Ir¨ªm¨¦ out there?" Abi asked.


    Lian shook his head. "I don''t see anyone at all. Don''t see any blood or monsters either."


    Fully turning into a phoenix was too risky when they were indoors. Abi thought of her in-between form with wings. She imagined those wings and how it had felt to fly. She didn''t feel anything change, so it was a shock to look over her shoulder and find her wings there as if they''d always been there.


    Lian opened the door fully and stepped through it. "That''s odd. It looks like the spaceship door is open."


    Abi flapped her wings experimentally and rocketed up to the ceiling. She yelped and closed them again, then hastily reopened them when she almost fell. "Damn it. I should have practiced flying when I wasn''t in danger."


    For several minutes she''d been dimly aware of a noise in the background. It grew louder and louder until she realised what it was. Footsteps.


    "Lian?"


    "I hear it," he said grimly.


    Abi turned. Round the corner behind her streamed a ghastly spectacle. They had once been immortals, but now they were in an even worse condition than Ilaran or the servant. Many were missing arms. One had its head almost ripped off and hanging on by sinew. All of them were covered in grisly injuries. Some had their internal organs hanging out.


    Abi might not know much about flying, but she remembered how she''d dealt with the last parasites. She gathered her magic. The flames blazed up around her wings. Then she cast the strongest exorcism spell she could manage. It tore through the crowd of monsters, incinerating the ones directly in its past. The ones not directly hit collapsed like puppets whose strings had been cut.


    A hideous mass of shadows and teeth formed over them. Abi prepared another spell. She didn''t get a chance to use it. The mass suddenly disintegrated into a cloud of individual shadows that rushed past her. She turned to shout a warning to Lian.


    It wasn''t needed. For a minute she saw him as that monster again. All of his teeth sank into the shadows. Abi shook her head and blinked. Lian was back to normal and the shadows were gone.


    "...What just happened?"


    "That," Lian said grimly, "is why meddling with necromancy is a terrible idea. Now let''s find the rest of these things."

 Chapter XV: Zombie-Hunters

    I''m a storm on the horizon


    Shattering the silence


    You can run but you can''t hide


    -- Smash Into Pieces, Deadman


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Shizuki hid in the bathroom for what felt like an eternity. Occasionally faint noises reached them, too distant and indistinct for them to tell if the monsters were attacking someone else or simply wandering around the spaceship. Shizuki gradually stopped trembling. His tongue continued to rapidly dart in and out.


    After a long silence Shizuki uncoiled and slithered down to the floor. He turned back into a boy. "They''ve gone. I can''t smell them any more. And I smell fire." He looked hopefully up at Ir¨ªm¨¦. "Can we go see what''s happening?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ hesitated. He weighed up their options. None of them were good. Outside were monsters which would try to kill them. Neither of them were armed. Ir¨ªm¨¦ wasn''t at all confident in his ability to transform into a dragon when he wanted to, and there was no room on the spaceship anyway. Shizuki was a child. If they went outside and were attacked they wouldn''t have a chance.


    The bathroom was small. There was the toilet stall behind them, the sink and its shelf, a towel, a window that couldn''t be opened, and nothing else. Nothing to defend themselves with and nowhere to hide if the monsters broke through the door.


    "Wait here," he told Shizuki firmly.


    Shizuki shook his head. "Uh-uh. I''m coming too."


    "It''s too dangerous!"


    Shizuki turned back into a snake and wrapped himself around Ir¨ªm¨¦''s chest again. Ir¨ªm¨¦ considered trying to pull him off, but gave up after a futile first attempt. Shizuki could hold on very firmly in this form, and his grip was almost painfully tight.


    "If we see any monsters I want you to run as far away as you can," Ir¨ªm¨¦ warned.


    Shizuki thought for a moment, then nodded.


    Moving the suitcase away from the door took a long time. On his first attempt Ir¨ªm¨¦ pulled it too hard and it scraped noisily against the floor. He froze, waiting for a monster to charge at the door. Nothing happened. At last he gathered the courage to try again. This time he moved it very slowly, barely an inch at a time, so that it made no sound.


    He unlocked the door and slid it open far enough to peer out. Shizuki tried to get his head around the door too. Ir¨ªm¨¦ took one look at the state of the spaceship''s seating area, pulled his handkerchief out of his pocket, and tied it around Shizuki''s eyes. He hissed a complaint.


    "Sorry, but you shouldn''t see this."


    The floor was covered with puddles and smears of blood. Something lay on the carpet. With a shudder Ir¨ªm¨¦ realised it was someone''s finger.


    He tiptoed out of the bathroom, picking his steps carefully to avoid the blood. Shizuki had gone very still. He continued to flick his tongue in and out.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s foot landed in something that squelched. He looked down and promptly wished he hadn''t. It was a chunk of bloody... something. He took a deep breath and fought back the urge to be sick.


    If the monsters had left the spaceship then there was a chance it could be used to escape. Assuming, of course, that they hadn''t damaged its controls. And also assuming there was someone still alive somewhere in the city who knew how to pilot it.


    As he passed the door leading to the cockpit Ir¨ªm¨¦ tried to see what state it was in. The door was open and the cockpit was covered in blood.


    When they reached the main door Ir¨ªm¨¦ removed the handkerchief. Shizuki raised his head above Ir¨ªm¨¦''s to get a good look around. Then he slithered to the floor and turned into a boy again.


    "Something funny in there," he said, pointing at the spaceport.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦''s heart sank. "Funny as in ''ha-ha'', or funny as in ''we''re going to die''?"


    "Funny as in ''never smelt anything like it''." Shizuki stuck his tongue out again. "It smells like bones."


    "The monsters?"


    He shook his head emphatically. "They smell rotten. Like the meat that went bad so Father buried it and it made the flowers grow."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ blinked. "...But is the smell of bones good or bad?"


    Shizuki stuck his tongue out. It was still forked, which was much more disturbing when he was a boy than when he was a snake. "I think it''s good."


    <hr>


    After their initial attack was defeated most of the monsters crawled into small rooms or hid under furniture. Abi discovered that the best way to deal with them in this situation was to send her phoenix-fire into each room and let it destroy them. In the first few rooms it also destroyed the rest of the room. After experimenting with how strong to make her spells, she finally managed to make the fire target the monsters and only mildly singe everything else in the room.


    There was a dreadful smell of smoke all through the spaceport now. She opened every window she passed, but it didn''t do much to help.


    Lian went upstairs and dealt with the monsters hiding up there. Abi wasn''t sure what he was doing. Judging by the shrieks and scraping sounds that occasionally reached her ears, it sounded like he had found a sword somewhere and was stabbing the monsters to death.


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.


    For the last few hours Abi hadn''t heard anything from Ilaran. She occasionally felt flickers of emotions that weren''t hers, but she had so many other things to worry about that they were easy to ignore. Now he did the telepathic equivalent of throwing open a door and yelling at her.


    Is Shizuki with you?


    Before answering Abi stepped back into the room she''d just cleared and closed the door. No use in allowing something to sneak up on her while she was distracted. She crossed the room and leant out the window so she could breathe clearly.


    Shizuki? What are you talking about? Why would Shizuki be with me?


    He''s missing. We can''t find him anywhere and we think he may have stowed away with Ir¨ªm¨¦.


    Abi''s blood ran cold. I haven''t seen Ir¨ªm¨¦. I don''t know where he is.


    Ilaran was silent for a while. Abi could feel his horror and dread as clearly as if it was her own.


    Tell me this. Is there anything there that could harm Shizuki?


    Abi looked at the scorch-marks where the monsters had been and tried to figure out what to say. Directly overhead a monster screeched in agony. Several metallic clangs ran out and the screeches stopped.


    No need to answer that. I can tell by your reaction.


    I''ll find him, Abi tried to reassure Ilaran. I''ll send him home as soon as I do.


    She opened the door warily, looked back and forth along the hall to make sure there were no monsters waiting to pounce, and ran to the nearest flight of stairs. Trails of bloody footprints covered the landing. The first room she checked was full of decapitated bodies. So was the next one. Lian''s method of dealing with the monsters was clearly effective, though much more violent than Abi''s.


    But I suppose being burnt to death is very violent, she thought. It just doesn''t seem as brutal because it doesn''t leave bodies.


    She found Lian in the spaceport''s control room. He was surrounded by headless corpses, and when she opened the door she was just in time to see him behead the last monster in the room. He had indeed found a sword somewhere. It was the strangest sword she''d ever seen -- made of black metal that barely reflected the light, and with a very elaborate hilt and a cross-guard decorated with what looked like bones. Abi forgot about Ilaran and Shizuki when she saw it.


    "What in the Nine Heavens is that?"


    Lian wiped the blade clean on the clothes of one of the corpses. "It''s Heifaren."


    "It''s what?" Abi knew the names of every sort of blade in both Saoridhl¨¦m and Seroyawa, but she had never heard of that type of sword.


    "Heifaren. It''s my soul-weapon."


    What in the world is a soul-weapon? Abi wanted to ask, but just in time she remembered the reason she''d come. "We have to find Ir¨ªm¨¦. Shizuki''s with him and we have to send him home before something awful happens to him."


    Lian frowned, puzzled. "Who''s Shizuki?"


    Abi considered trying to explain, but decided it would take too long. "A friend who stowed away with Ir¨ªm¨¦. He''s too young to be here and his father''s looking for him."


    "Have you found Ir¨ªm¨¦ yet?"


    "No. I suppose we''d better check that spaceship. If he''s not there he must have left the spaceport before the monsters got here."


    At the back of her mind lurked a string of thoughts she tried to ignore. What if Ir¨ªm¨¦ hadn''t avoided them? What if they found he and Shizuki had been turned into monsters? These ones couldn''t be exorcised like Ilaran had been. She couldn''t kill either Ir¨ªm¨¦ or Shizuki herself, but could she stand back and let Lian kill them? What would she tell Ilaran?


    Those thoughts stayed with her as she and Lian ran downstairs. They turned towards the door that led out to the landing area and stopped. Abi looked at what faced them and forgot all of her thoughts.


    A crowd of snarling monsters blocked the door. It charged at them en masse. Lian''s sword slashed off the heads of the first few monsters. Abi gathered her magic and conjured up the strongest fire she could manage. She threw it at the monsters. Most of them were incinerated instantly. The ones that weren''t halted their charge, giving Lian a chance to behead them all.


    Abi couldn''t help checking the faces of the still-intact monsters, terrified of seeing Ir¨ªm¨¦''s or Shizuki''s. She didn''t recognise anyone, but the faces were such a mess that it was hard to see what they looked like.


    <hr>


    "Wait here," Ir¨ªm¨¦ told Shizuki sternly.


    He stepped out of the spaceship and climbed down its stairs. Nothing sprang at him out of a hiding place. The ground was perfectly flat and he could see there was nothing lurking nearby. He eyed the main building of the spaceport suspiciously. It was the only obvious way out. But anything might be hiding in there.


    There was enough space here to turn into a dragon without injuring himself. Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought for a moment, then turned back to Shizuki.


    "Listen, Shizuki, remember I promised to take you flying?" Shizuki nodded. He didn''t look as enthusiastic about flying any more. "Wait there for a minute, and then--"


    A chorus of shrieks filled the air. They were abruptly cut off by a hissing noise that turned into a roar. Ir¨ªm¨¦ spun round, expecting to see monsters streaming out of the buildings. Instead he saw a blaze of blue fire shoot through the spaceport doors. He recognised it at once.


    "Abi!" he yelled at the top of his lungs.


    Immediately he realised the stupidity of trying to get her attention from this distance. He didn''t like the idea of bringing Shizuki into possible danger, but he also couldn''t leave him here while Ir¨ªm¨¦ went to find her. He turned back to Shizuki.


    "We''ll go flying later. Come on!"


    Shizuki hopped down from the spaceship and turned back into a snake. Once again he wrapped himself around Ir¨ªm¨¦''s chest. As soon as he was secure Ir¨ªm¨¦ ran towards the spaceport.


    "Abi!" he yelled when he was close enough to be heard. "Abihira!"


    <hr>


    Lian heard something before Abi did. His head snapped up and he paused in the middle of beheading a still-moving corpse. "What''s that?"


    Abi prepared another fire spell. "Where''s it coming from?"


    "Outside." The door was so dirty now with smoke that it was impossible to see through it. Any number of monsters could sneak up on them. "It sounded like someone shouting."


    "Abi! Abihira!"


    Abi''s spell dissolved. "Ir¨ªm¨¦!"


    She ran to the door and flung it open just as Ir¨ªm¨¦ reached it. There was a confused moment when they bumped into each other and stumbled back, and then another confused moment when Abi tried to hug Ir¨ªm¨¦ and almost squashed the... was that a snake clinging to him? Lian stayed in the background until they both calmed down. He got a shock when the snake let go of Ir¨ªm¨¦ and turned into a boy, then another shock when the boy walked up to him and stared at him like a bug under a microscrope.


    "Why do you smell of bones?" he asked.


    Lian liked to think he knew how to deal with children. Until now he hadn''t realised that he only knew how to deal with small children like Zi Yao. He stared blankly at the boy, unsure if this remark was meant as a personal insult or simply a tactless non sequitur.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ finally noticed his presence. "Who''s that?"


    Abi laughed awkwardly. "You''re not going to believe this, but this is my brother."


    "...He can''t be. I''ve met all your brothers."


    "My oldest brother."


    "But he''s dead, isn''t he?"


    "He smells dead!" the boy piped up. Neither of them seemed to hear him. Again Lian didn''t know how to answer.


    Abi said, "Yes."


    "Then what are you--" Ir¨ªm¨¦ broke off. He stared at Lian, and in particular at his soul-weapon. Then he looked at the now-headless monsters. "...I think you should start at the beginning."

 Chapter XVI: In The City

    Fret not, dear heart, let not them hear


    The mutterings of all your fears


    The flutterings of all your wings


    -- The Amazing Devil, The Horror and the Wild


    After so many years of knowing Abi and the insanity she seemed to attract, Ir¨ªm¨¦ hadn''t thought anything could surprise him much any more. He was wrong. Several times during Lian''s story he interrupted with, "You have to be making some of that up!"


    "That''s what I thought too," Abi agreed. "He hasn''t even told you about his time as a spy yet."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ stared at her, then at Lian, then shrugged helplessly. "Go on."


    The four of them had moved to a small room that had no dead monsters lying around and an open window in case they needed to make a quick escape. There were no chairs, so all of them sat on the floor. Shizuki leant against Ir¨ªm¨¦''s side and apparently went to sleep. Ir¨ªm¨¦ draped his coat over him.


    Lian finished with, "So we came here to get rid of the monsters. I think we''ve destroyed all the ones in the spaceport. Now we just need to find all the ones in the rest of the countryside."


    "How do you intend to do that without killing innocent people?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked suspiciously. From what Lian had said he had an unpleasant suspicion that the answer would be ''I don''t care how many innocent people die''.


    Abi spoke up. "I thought we could find a way to lure all the monsters into one place. That other one, the one at the party, it came to find me. Maybe these ones will too."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked down at Shizuki. "First we''ve got to find a way to get Shizuki home."


    "How?" Lian asked. "None of us know how to fly a spaceship, there aren''t any pilots around, and I certainly don''t intend to take a child through the Void."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ turned to Abi for explanation. She shuddered and muttered something about birds and skeletons.


    "We''ve got to get back home as quickly as possible," she said. "It''s not fair to leave Mirio in that mess."


    "That mess you got him into," Lian muttered. "Has it not occurred to you that when we go home, I''ll be expected to marry him because of your idiocy?"


    Abi winced. Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked blankly at her, trying to make sense of this conversation.


    "You could always say you failed to complete the challenge," Abi suggested.


    Lian rolled his eyes. "I think it would be less embarrassing for him and me if I simply stay here and never return to Gengxin."


    <hr>


    In spite of how unexpected the attack was, there were pockets of survivors hidden throughout Gradon¨¦. Some had taken shelter in cellars. Some had climbed onto roofs. Some had simply been lucky enough to live in houses that the monsters couldn''t get into.


    The ones hiding on roofs were in the perfect position to see where the monsters went. As soon as they left one area, a survivor kept watch from above in case they returned while another survivor climbed down and hunted for anyone else who was still alive. In this way they managed to meet up with some of the people hiding in houses or cellars. By carefully climbing from building to building they made their way into the city centre, in search of a still-functioning radio.


    Finally a survivor found one in the city hall. She turned it on and sent an urgent message to Saoridhl¨¦m.


    <hr>


    "Have you heard? A group of serial killers are murdering people on Muirus 9436!"


    "They''re not serial killers. I heard they belong to a cult that tells them to murder everyone who doesn''t follow it."


    "No, you''re wrong! The message says they''re flesh-eating monsters!"


    "And if you really believe that, perhaps you''d like to buy a house overlooking the sea in Feranir[1]."


    None of the gossipers paid much attention to the woman sitting at the table behind them. Haliran, on the other hand, listened to every word they said.


    Since her escape she''d spent most of her time in cities where it was easy to hide. She''d hidden outside a blacksmith''s shop until the blacksmith left, then used his tools to remove her handcuffs. Then she''d stolen clothes from a clothesline, picked a woman''s pocket for money, and made her way to the nearest large city. She had no clear idea of where to go or what to do beyond ''evade capture for as long as possible''. The only thing she knew for certain was that she wanted to get revenge on Ilaran and Siarvin. But she also knew that they would be waiting for her if she tried to attack Tananerl. She had to find a more roundabout way of dealing with them.


    This message from Muirus 9436 was exactly what she needed. A little bit of digging and she discovered that the incompetent necromancer had visited that planet shortly before the first report of walking corpses. A few questions asked to the right people and she discovered that Abihira had disappeared, possibly to Muirus 9436. Haliran easily put those facts together and deduced that there really were flesh-eating monsters on the loose.


    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    Years ago she''d met another necromancer, a much more competent one, who kept a cellar full of those monsters. Anyone they bit turned into one of them. A plan began to form in Haliran''s mind. If she could get one of those monsters from Muirus 9436 to Vanerth, if she could set it loose in Tananerl, it would get rid of Ilaran and Siarvin for her.


    She just needed someone to help her catch it.


    <hr>


    "The first thing we need to do is find the best place to lure the monsters to," Abi said. "It has to be somewhere with nowhere for them to hide and also not near the rest of the city."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked out at the spaceship''s landing area. "If we move that ship out of the way--"


    "No," Lian said. "Too many buildings around. Too many ways for them to escape. We need somewhere we can trap them, somewhere like--"


    "An outdoor theatre?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ suggested.


    The other two considered this.


    "That would work," Abi agreed.


    Lian nodded. "As long as we find a way to lock all the doors. Are there any outdoor theatres in this city?"


    Abi looked out the window. It was still only mid-afternoon and there was plenty of sunlight. "I suppose I could try to find one."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ did a double take. "You can''t go outside! It''s not safe!"


    "Not on foot," she agreed, "but I was thinking of flying. I''ve got to get used to it somehow, and nothing''s trying to kill us right now so this is as good a time as any." She looked at Shizuki, still fast asleep next to Ir¨ªm¨¦. "But we really have to get him home somehow. I''m going to ask Ilaran if it''s okay to take him through the Void as long as he promises to keep his eyes closed."


    Lian looked at her as if she was out of her mind.


    <hr>


    Ilaran had heard many strange things from Abihira, but this took the cake. Take Shizuki through the what now?


    The Void, she repeated, which really didn''t clear things up. It''s... It''s like teleporting but more disturbing.


    That was all he needed to know. No. Absolutely not.


    How are we to get him home, then?


    You''re with him. So is Ir¨ªm¨¦. And Lian may not be the sort of person I''d want around Shizuki, but I don''t think he''ll harm him. He''s safe enough with you for now.


    <hr>


    When she finished speaking to Ilaran Abi turned to the other two with a thunderstruck expression. "He thinks Shizuki is safe with us."


    "Well, that''s true, isn''t it?" Lian said. "He''s certainly safer with us than he would be going through the Void."


    <hr>


    Haliran knew plenty of people who would be interested in a walking corpse. Some would want it to experiment on with various types of magic. Others would want it to scare people with. Others would want to use it as a weapon to kill their enemies. That last group usually knew ways to stop a corpse''s bite turning other people into walking corpses, so that they could have their enemies ripped apart without the inconvenience of them coming back and attacking other people. Since the last group''s goals lined up with what she wanted a corpse to do to Siarvin and Ilaran, she decided to find someone in that group.


    It was easy for her to find almost anyone. She kept a mental record of all the people who might possibly be useful to her, and how to find them. She bought a train ticket under a false name and went to a city where a potential helper lived.


    Gimalinya Narmirisv¨®eln -- or at least the woman who called herself Gimalinya Nirmirisv¨®eln; Haliran knew it was unlikely that one of the most infamous gangsters in western Saoridhl¨¦m would really meet her in person and had probably told a subordinate to impersonate her -- eyed Haliran suspiciously. "I know why I would want a walking corpse. Why do you want one?"


    "To get revenge," Haliran answered honestly.


    Gimalinya drummed her fingers against the table. "Explain."


    "I want to kill my ex-husband and his nephew. As soon as they''re dead the corpse is yours to do with as you wish. I don''t care if you want to use it to wipe out an entire city."


    <hr>


    Even though she knew there were no more monsters in the building, Abi kept a wary eye out as she left the room and walked out to the landing area. Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Lian had offered to come with her, but the memory of the last time she transformed made her prefer to be alone. She might still accidentally turn herself into something half-bird and half-immortal before she finally managed to fully shapeshift, but it would be less embarrassing if she had no witnesses.


    First she summoned her wings. They were the easiest part of the transformation.


    Maybe I don''t need to fully transform, she thought. I can just fly like this.


    She flapped her wings gently, hoping to rise slowly off the ground. Instead she rocketed up to be on a level with the roof. Abi stared down at the ground. It suddenly seemed very far away.


    I flew before. I''m not going to fall, she reminded herself.


    She tried to turn around. Instead she accidentally did a somersault in mid-air.


    This is hopeless!


    She tried to glide down to the ground. This time she managed it without falling. She still landed more heavily than she wanted to, but at least she wasn''t injured.


    It looks like I do have to fully transform, she thought gloomily.


    That took several attempts. Sure enough, she ended up in an in-between form with feathers growing out of her face before she finally managed to fully become a phoenix.


    At once Abi discovered the difference between trying to fly as an immortal with wings and trying to fly in a form meant for the air. She took off easily and soared over the roof. A slight movement of her wings and she could speed up or slow down.


    From here she could see there were no monsters nearby. The spaceport was in the middle of an open field. The nearest buildings were a good distance away. As she flew over them she went higher to get a look at as many streets as possible. All of them were empty, from tiny side-streets that led nowhere to main roads leading in and out of the city centre.


    It was easy to see that the buildings below were houses, with only an occasional small shop among them. There wouldn''t be any theatres in this area, outdoors or otherwise.


    Most theatres are near a train station, Abi remembered. She wasn''t sure if she''d read that in a book or been told it, but it was as good a clue as any. Now, where was the nearest train station?


    The trouble with flying so high was that at a certain point it became hard to distinguish what she saw on the ground. She flew right over a railway track without realising what it was until she passed another track leading off it. Abi changed direction and followed the first track. It led her to a station, but there were no outdoor theatres near it.


    Now she was closer to the city centre. She went higher again to see down into the streets. Then she spotted them. A large group of monsters shambled slowly down a road.


    Abi''s first instinct was to burn them. She stopped herself when she realised how close they were to the shops on either side of the road. If she burnt them she might accidentally set the whole city on fire.


    None of them looked up when she flew over their heads. They continued their slow walk, and she continued her search.

 Chapter XVII: The Dragon and the Phoenix

    If you place your head in a lion''s mouth, then you cannot complain one day if he happens to bite it off. -- Agatha Christie


    Gradon¨¦ was a large and sprawling city. To search all of it Abi would have had to make constant back-and-forth trips from one end to the other, which would take at least a day. She didn''t spot any survivors in the city centre. Nor did she spot any outdoor theatres, or any other place she could lure the monsters into.


    She was just about to turn back and admit defeat when she discovered the very thing she''d been looking for. It was a very large outdoor theatre. A banner strung over the stage proclaimed that it would soon host a performance of a famous playwright''s best-known work. The stage was large enough to hold an ordinary-sized house. Best of all, it had no permanent seats like in an indoor theatre and therefore nothing for the monsters to hide behind.


    Abi descended to have a better look. She examined the stone steps where the chairs would be placed. She examined the orchestra pit, which was concealed from the weather by a large and heavy door that would be rolled back during a performance. She examined the stage, which was carved out of stone. The only flammable thing in the place was the banner. It was an ideal place to lure the monsters to a fiery death.


    She wheeled round and headed back to the spaceport.


    <hr>


    Somehow or other Lian had found a board game in the spaceport -- though Ir¨ªm¨¦ suspected he had actually teleported away somewhere to get it -- and when Shizuki woke up the three of them played a round. None of them were quite sure of the rules or why some pieces were shaped like mice and others like fish, so they treated it as if it was a game of langhar[1].


    Within minutes what had started as a way to pass the time became an intense battle. Any onlooker would have assumed that vast sums of money rested on the outcome of the game, from how carefully the three of them considered each move.


    Shizuki picked up one of his pieces and moved it in front of Lian''s. "You''re out!"


    Lian shook his head. "Not yet. I still have two more pieces."


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ moved one of his pieces in front of both Shizuki''s and another of Lian''s. "One more piece."


    Shizuki picked up two pieces at a time and placed one in front of Ir¨ªm¨¦''s and the other in front of Lian''s remaining piece. "You''re both out!"


    "That''s against the rules," Ir¨ªm¨¦ objected.


    "What rules?"


    "The rules we agreed on. We said we can only move one piece at a time."


    Shizuki stuck his tongue out. "Doesn''t matter. We didn''t write it down so it doesn''t count."


    "Oh yes I did." Ir¨ªm¨¦ took his notebook out of his pocket. He flipped to the page where he''d written their makeshift rules. "See for yourself."


    Shizuki scowled and folded his arms. "Still doesn''t matter. "


    The argument would have continued in that vein, but came to an abrupt halt when they heard the sound of a door closing. At once they all froze. Footsteps crossed the hall, heading directly towards them. Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked nervously to Lian for guidance.


    "I don''t think it''s a monster. They walk more slowly," Lian said.


    The door opened.


    "I have good news and bad news," Abi announced as if she was continuing a conversation started a few minutes ago. "The good news is, I found a place we can lure them to. The bad news is, it''s about two miles away. And the monsters become more active as the sun sets. On my way back here I saw a crowd of them crawl out of the city hall as soon as the light stopped shining on the doorway. And I didn''t see any survivors." She saw the appalled look on Ir¨ªm¨¦''s face and quickly tried to make things slightly better. "That doesn''t mean there aren''t any! I just didn''t see them!"


    Lian went to the window. "Did you see any monsters heading this way?"


    "No. But I thought that if there are any around, it would be better to call them here than let them wander around the city. We can kill them as soon as they walk in."


    "Good idea," Lian said, to Ir¨ªm¨¦''s horror.


    "What do you mean, good idea? Shizuki''s here!"


    "But we can barricade him into this room so the monsters can''t get anywhere near him."


    "I don''t wanna be left out!" Shizuki complained. "I can kill monsters too!"


    "You most certainly will not," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said grimly. It looked like Shizuki was still going to protest, so he added, "Just think of what your father would say." Shizuki fell silent, but he still looked mutinous. Ir¨ªm¨¦ continued in a resigned voice, "I still think this is a terrible idea. But if anything will dissuade the monsters from attacking at all, it''ll be a dragon. And I might as well turn into a dragon now."


    Shizuki brightened up at once. "Take me flying?" he asked hopefully.


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    Ir¨ªm¨¦ considered this, realised he had to learn how to fly at some point and really couldn''t get out of it, and nodded wearily. "But only around the spaceport, and not very high."


    <hr>


    Turning into a dragon this time was easier than Ir¨ªm¨¦ feared. In his snake form Shizuki wrapped himself tightly around Ir¨ªm¨¦''s neck. To make absolutely sure he wouldn''t fall off, Ir¨ªm¨¦ shook his head gently. Shizuki stayed firmly in place.


    Lian stared up at Ir¨ªm¨¦ in bemusement. "Huh. I''ve never seen a blue dragon before. All the others have been black or red."


    Until now it hadn''t occurred to Ir¨ªm¨¦ that there were any other dragons on Vanerth. No one had heard or seen of any since the last one flew away centuries ago, long before Ir¨ªm¨¦ was born. If there were any other dragon immortals around, they kept it very quiet.


    Abi voiced what he was thinking. "You''ve met other dragons?"


    "Not on this planet," Lian said, to Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mingled relief and disappointment. He felt nervous at the idea of meeting another dragon, but at the same time he would like to meet one. "On another planet in a different galaxy."


    Shizuki hissed in Ir¨ªm¨¦''s ear. "Come on! Let''s go!"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ opened his wings then paused. How was he supposed to fly, anyway? More to the point, how would he keep from falling?


    Abi guessed what the problem was. "You don''t know how to fly, do you?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ shook his head. "I''ll show you. Just follow me, and try not to think too much about it. If you think too much you''ll fall."


    How reassuring, Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought sarcastically in Abi''s general direction.


    She turned into a phoenix again and took off as if she''d known how to fly for all her life. Ir¨ªm¨¦ intently studied the way her wings moved as she circled overhead. Very warily he attempted to move his own wings in the same way. He was so intent on trying to copy her that it took him a minute to realise he was flying -- though slowly and less than a foot above the ground. Then he panicked and landed abruptly with a thud.


    Shizuki gave a disappointed hiss. "Fly again! Higher this time! You can do it!"


    To be honest Ir¨ªm¨¦ would have preferred to do it without an audience trying to encourage him. He grimaced but tried again. This time he managed to fly higher and for longer. Abi literally flew circles around him and made weird chirping sing-song noises that she probably meant to be reassuring.


    Then Ir¨ªm¨¦''s wings tired and he had to land again. Abi, damn her, acted as if she''d never learnt the meaning of the word "tired" and swooped around as carelessly as if she was a real bird.


    By the time Ir¨ªm¨¦ managed to fly all the way around the spaceport, the sun was starting to set and Shizuki was starting to shiver. Ir¨ªm¨¦ couldn''t feel the cold himself, but he sensed that the temperature had changed.


    The monsters could be on their way here right now, he thought with a shudder.


    He turned his head to look at Shizuki. "Go inside now. It''s too cold for you to stay out." It was also too dangerous, but he knew that argument wouldn''t get him anywhere.


    Shizuki thought for a minute, then nodded and slithered down. He turned back into a boy and went back into the spaceport. Lian had already gone inside and was apparently turning the entrance room into a makeshift kitchen. As soon as Shizuki went in Lian gave him a bowl of what looked like soup and sent him back to the room they''d turned into their headquarters.


    Abi landed on the roof of the spaceship still parked on the landing area. In the growing darkness her feathers shone with increasing brightness. Their clashing colours blurred together into a brilliant mixture of white and purplish fire. When it was fully dark her phoenix form might as well be a beacon visible for miles around.


    Lian leaned out the door. "Do either of you want soup?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ shook his head. Logically he knew he should feel hungry after going so long without eating anything, but he found he didn''t. Abi flew over and turned back into her winged in-between form. She took a bowl of soup and sat down on one of the benches outside the spaceport to eat it.


    "Where did you find soup?" she asked. To prevent her wings getting stuck in the back of the bench she held them awkwardly outstretched and raised.


    "In the kitchen," Lian said. "I think it was meant for the staff; it isn''t big enough to provide for all the passengers. But it has a few unopened tins of soup and I think I saw some packets of biscuits and dried fruit, so we won''t starve." He looked at Abi''s wings. "Why don''t you fully change back?"


    "I''m warmer like this. And I''m going to change into a phoenix again, so there''s not much point in fully changing." She looked at him curiously. "Are you a shapeshifter too?"


    It was hard to tell in the gathering darkness, but Ir¨ªm¨¦ thought he saw Lian wince. "I used to be. Then I discovered that dark magic does something to your ability to shapeshift."


    "You can''t shapeshift any more?" Abi sounded horrified at this idea.


    "I can, but into something... Well, it''s better if I don''t."


    <hr>


    On the day after Kitri''s arrival the mayor finally risked giving the order to open the gates. None of the monsters had reappeared since that first night, and the town was running short of supplies.


    "We weren''t expecting a siege so we didn''t stockpile food," the mayor explained. "When we collect enough supplies we can shut the gates again and hold out for at least a month."


    Kitri took a gun, a sword, and a crossbow from the armoury. "I''m going to the capital."


    The mayor wrung her hands in dismay. "You can''t, young lady! It''s too dangerous! Why, you''d have to cover ninety miles just to get to the Strait of Vauralok, and Gradon¨¦ is another fifty miles from there!"


    "I''m not planning to go on foot. The nearest station of the ghurmalath-¨²thernu[2] is less than ten miles away. I''ll take a horse and I''ll get there long before night. My uncle''s a conductor on one of the lines and taught me how to control the carriages. They''re high off the ground so those monsters can''t get at them. I''ll travel to the capital in one of them."


    The mayor shook her head. "I think you''re just putting yourself in unnecessary danger."


    "I have to get to Saoridhl¨¦m."


    Nothing anyone could say would make her change her mind. Finally they all gave up and let her go. Kitri borrowed a horse, took a map, and set off on her journey.


    <hr>


    Night fell. It wasn''t normal for a city to be quiet. Ir¨ªm¨¦ remembered his trips to Eldrin with a shudder. When staying in a hotel he''d always found it hard to get to sleep with all the noise outside, and no matter where you were in the city you couldn''t drown it out completely. This city was the opposite. It was so quiet that the faint rustling sound of Abi''s feathers was distinctly audible when she flew around the spaceport, even when she was on the far side of the building.


    Dragons had better hearing than immortals. If there were any other noises he should have picked them up at once. But the place was as silent as the royal crypt. It set Ir¨ªm¨¦''s teeth on edge.


    Abi circled overhead. Her feathers shone so brightly she looked like a small comet. She landed on the gate of the spaceport. It was the only way in and Ir¨ªm¨¦ lay facing it so nothing could sneak up on them. She trilled softly. In this form Ir¨ªm¨¦ had no way to tell her he couldn''t understand her. He tried to get the message across by tilting his head to the side and giving her an unimpressed look.


    It didn''t work. She took off and glided away towards the main city. Ir¨ªm¨¦ watched her until she was just a tiny speck in the distance. He frowned.


    Where was she going, and how much trouble was she going to get them all into?

 Chapter XVIII: The Spaceship

    If the abnormal goes on long enough it becomes the normal. -- Terry Pratchett, Moving Pictures


    Now that she knew how to do it, flying was the easiest thing in the world. It was also one of the most interesting. Abi found she could see so much more from the air than she''d ever realised existed.


    Well, she could during the day. At night she couldn''t see much more than vague outlines that could have been houses, trees, or even a crowd of flesh-eating monsters.


    Amidst the chaos of the last few hours she''d almost completely forgotten about Ilaran. It came as a shock when he spoke. I hate to seem inquisitive, but what''s happening?


    Abi did an unintentional somersault and almost fell before she realised who it was. She righted herself and spared a moment to be glad no one had been around to see that. Nothing, really. Shizuki''s safe in the spaceport, Lian''s guarding him, and Ir¨ªm¨¦''s watching at the gate. I''m trying to find the monsters. We haven''t seen any for hours.


    There was a moment''s incredulous silence. Did you say you''re trying to find the monsters? Why would you want to find them if they''re leaving you alone?


    I want to see if they''re close enough to attack us.


    A vast black shape suddenly loomed out of the darkness in front of her. Abi wheeled away just in time to avoid crashing into it. When she looked back she realised it was a building, at least seven storeys tall. Damn it. I didn''t think I was in the city already. There aren''t any lights around here.


    From Ilaran''s side she sensed confusion and exasperation. You''re on fire. Why don''t you light your own way?


    ...Oh. That had never occurred to her. She flew higher and perched on the edge of the building''s roof.


    How do I make my feathers brighter? Abi wondered.


    Her thoughts were meant for herself, but Ilaran overheard anyway. He said nothing, but she got the distinct impression he was shaking his head in disbelief at her ignorance.


    Preparing to cast a spell made them glow, she remembered, but I don''t need a spell now. Maybe if I just think of them glowing...


    She tried that. And she promptly almost blinded herself when her now very bright feathers reflected off the windows of the building opposite. The entire street was lit up as if someone had turned on a floodlight. Abi took off and watched as her presence brightened up the place more effectively than if she''d had a torch. Now she could see every building long before she was close enough to hit it. Every pothole or uneven part of the pavement was thrown into sharp relief. The bricks of the buildings around her cast weird shadows over their walls. It was strange, but the city seemed more sinister by the light of phoenix-fire than it had in broad daylight.


    Ilaran went very quiet at the back of her mind. Abi got the impression he was scared by something.


    What''s wrong? she asked.


    I don''t like heights.


    ...Huh. Of all the people she''d have thought would be afraid of heights, Ilaran was the last on the list. A memory pushed its way to the front of her mind: one of Ilaran''s memories, of Nuvildu''s death and his climb out of the well. He did that with a broken leg and a fear of heights, she realised with a start.


    Stop that, Ilaran snapped.


    Stop what?


    You''re thinking about my past and I don''t like it. Mind your own business.


    Below her, empty street followed empty street. Abi began to think she''d been wrong about the monsters. Maybe they weren''t active after dark. Maybe they were only active for a few hours during the day. Or maybe she was searching for them in the wrong place.


    Suddenly she realised that the building in front of her looked oddly familiar. She eyed it suspiciously. Didn''t I see those funny hexagonal windows before?


    Ilaran shrugged -- or rather she got the impression he would have shrugged if he was physically present. I can''t see anything. I just feel you''re very high up and there''s nothing to stop you falling.


    Abi landed on the roof of the building with the funny windows. She looked around. Down on the street she spotted a shop she recognised. It was a jeweller''s, and all the necklaces in the windows caught the light and threw it around the street.


    Damn it. We''re going in circles.


    She took off again and flew higher over the buildings. A faint humming noise filled the air. She dismissed it as just the wind whistling past her ears. Finally she found a large, wide street that looked like the city''s main thoroughfare. She flew lower, below the roofs of the buildings, so she could get a better look around. The humming noise grew louder. Her feathers seemed to stand on end. It almost felt as if the air was vibrating with electricity.


    Wait. That''s--


    A faint pinprick of light appeared high in the sky overhead. Abi panicked and dived for the nearest window large enough for her to get through. The glass shattered. Tiny fragments lodged between the barbs of her feathers, uncomfortable but not close enough to her skin to hurt.


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    Her feathers illuminated the room. She''d apparently crashed into someone''s office. A large and sturdy desk stood slightly to her left. The room was empty. Abi turned back into an immortal and crawled on her hands and knees behind the desk.


    The sudden absence of light made the darkness seem much deeper than it actually was. Within minutes her eyes adjusted and she was able to see what was happening. Then she realised it wasn''t necessarily because her eyes had adjusted. There was light outside, steadily growing brighter. And there was the humming noise again, louder and closer. It was unmistakeably a spaceship.


    Abi watched until the ship came into view. It was one of the small ships meant to travel very quickly. But it didn''t bear a standard, so it wasn''t a reconnaissance ship sent by an army. It hovered above the buildings'' roofs. A searchlight shone down on the street, moving from shop-front to shop-front.


    What''s happening? Ilaran asked.


    I don''t know. There''s a spaceship here and I think it''s looking for something.


    You, probably.


    Abi blinked. Why would it look for me?


    A few minutes ago you were the brightest thing in this city. Of course someone''s come to investigate.


    Suddenly the silence was shattered with a piercing wail. It went on and on. Abi covered her ears and cowered behind the desk in the vain hope of blocking out the sound. It was no use. That was the sort of sound that no one could ignore.


    After her initial shock wore off Abi realised it was a siren. It droned like one of the lighthouses along the Seroyawan coast, warning when an earthquake had been sensed far out to sea and a tsunami was expected. That association made her instinctively want to run as far away as possible to the highest ground she could find.


    She forced herself to stay still. Whoever was on the spaceship had some reason for sounding that siren. Maybe they were trying to attract the attention of survivors. Maybe they were trying to frighten the monsters away. In either case it would be better to stay here and see what was happening. They might be allies who could help her destroy the monsters.


    I don''t like this, Ilaran muttered at the back of her mind.


    I know, the sound is very annoying.


    Not that. I don''t like what it''s doing. Can''t you hear it calling them to it?


    The noise was certainly loud enough to attract the attention of everything within miles. Abi wouldn''t be surprised if she got back to the spaceport and was told her friends had heard it as clearly as she did. But she wouldn''t have said it was calling anyone. If anything it was more like a "stay away at all costs" sort of noise.


    Calling who? What do you mean?


    I mean it''s drawing the monsters to it.


    Over the endless droning Abi heard a faint sound down in the street. She looked at the spaceship, judged that its lights weren''t shining directly onto her and no one aboard was likely to notice her, and crept on her hands and knees over to the window. She had to sit up to get a good look at the street. In case someone happened to be looking at this window in particular she hid behind the curtain and craned her neck to see round it without being seen.


    At first she didn''t believe what her eyes were telling her. There couldn''t possibly be a crowd of monsters gathered beneath the ship. And yet there they were. A perfectly orderly group waiting patiently and without any hint of viciousness. They looked bizarrely like a people waiting for a shop to open, not monsters that would tear apart everyone they could get their hands on.


    What in the world?


    The siren cut out. The silence that followed was more deafening than it had been. Abi found herself feeling suddenly dizzy and disorientated. Then she heard the grating screech of metal and something descended from the spaceship. She couldn''t tell what it was. It went down into the crowd. Nothing happened for a while. Then it was hoisted back up into the ship. Now she could see that it was a net, and one of the monsters was caught in it.


    I don''t like this, Abi thought. No matter how she looked at it there was no good reason for someone to want to capture a monster.


    A few faint hisses rose from the crowd. They increased in volume and ferocity as the seconds ticked by. The monster in the net began to thrash and snarl as it was dragged towards the ship.


    Abi thought quickly. The net was being raised slowly. If she turned into her phoenix form, she could burn through the chain attached to the net and drop the monster back to the ground. The people in the ship wouldn''t be able to catch any more monsters.


    Be careful, Ilaran warned. They''ll have some sort of weapons.


    Abi nodded. Probably, but there''s nothing I can do about that.


    She stepped back, away from the curtain so she wouldn''t set it on fire when she transformed. A searchlight on the side of the ship swung towards the window. Abi dived behind the desk just in time. It passed over her head. Then it came back. The light shone around the room several times before finally being turned off.


    Abi swore silently. I think they saw me. They know there''s something in this room, anyway.


    Is the door open?


    She looked over her shoulder. No, and there''s an open space between it and the desk.


    She risked peering over the desk. The searchlight didn''t come back. The monster was nearly in the ship by now. If she wanted to stop it she''d have to act very quickly, and now it looked like she would have to damage the ship in the process.


    Don''t worry about that, Ilaran said. I have my suspicions of who owns it.


    Abi waited until the monster had been raised into the ship''s loading bay. Then she sprang to her feet and ran for the door. She yanked it open. The hallway outside was pitch black. Abi crashed into the wall opposite. Keeping one hand on the wall so she knew where it was, she jumped away from the doorway.


    She was just in time.


    Doors slammed and the building shook. Abi''s hand brushed against a doorknob. She grabbed it and staggered into the room beyond. It was dark as midnight. She stayed close to the wall as she tried to feel her way to the other side of the room. Someone was still slamming doors.


    With a jolt she realised, That''s gunfire.


    It continued unabated for several minutes. Finally it stopped. Abi heard the whir of the spaceship''s engines starting up. Then she heard it fly off.


    Abi''s mouth, jaw and nose hurt from where she''d banged the side of her face against the wall. She couldn''t see a thing. She didn''t even know what sort of room she was in.


    As she felt her way towards the door she found a gas lamp. She turned it on. The sudden brightness dazzled her eyes and gave her a headache after so long in total darkness.


    When she could see she discovered she was in a large and empty room. Stacks of chairs leant against the far wall. A pile of folding tables lay on the floor. Apparently she''d stumbled into an unused conference room.


    There was a door on the other side. If she walked in a straight line, keeping one hand on the wall and the other in front of her so she wouldn''t walk into the door when she reached it, there was nothing to trip her up. Abi turned off the lamp so nothing could see her. The darkness seemed much worse now than a few minutes ago, but she stumbled on anyway.


    The door opened outward. She felt along the wall beside it for a light-switch. When she found one and turned it on it revealed she was on a landing with one flight of steps going up and another going down.


    Down leads to those monsters, she thought. Up might lead to the roof, but the ship might still be hanging around.


    Abi didn''t feel confident in her ability to take on all of those monsters at once. No, the roof would be the best way to escape. She started up the stairs.


    Two floors below her, a door flew open.

 Chapter XIX: Abi in Trouble Again

    The impossible could not have happened, therefore the impossible must be possible in spite of appearances. -- Agatha Christie, Murder on the Orient Express


    None of the monsters had much left in the way of brains. When they sensed a living immortal nearby they were overwhelmed with the urge to hunt it down and destroy it. When they were confronted with an obstacle they froze in place for hours until they finally got it into their heads that they could simply go around it -- unless they sensed prey on the other side, because then they would find a way past almost any obstacle. When they heard a noise they came to investigate, and if it turned out not to be prey they were left with no idea of what to do.


    When they heard the siren a few of them had a vague idea they''d been summoned for a specific task but had no idea what it was or how to complete it. Now that it was gone they reacted with anger, the only emotion any of them still had left. Their anger infected all the other monsters. Within minutes the whole group were snarling with rage and looking for something to tear apart.


    A faint whiff of blood reached some of them, the ones standing near a building. They followed it and found themselves confronted with a door. Two or three flung themselves against it. The rest of the crowd followed suit. The door flew open. Monsters surged into the room beyond.


    <hr>


    Abi''s lip stung. She wiped it and found it left a bloody streak on the back of her hand. Downstairs she could hear the monsters hissing and snarling. It sounded like they were spreading out all over the ground floor. None of them had found the staircase yet.


    She ran faster. Ahead she saw a door. The stairs ended at this landing and there were no other doors beside it. She ran to it and yanked the handle. It stayed stubbornly closed. The monsters'' growls echoed up the stairwell. They were at the bottom of the stairs.


    It was logical that phoenix-fire should be able to melt through any lock. All she had to do was figure out how to control it so it wouldn''t also melt the door and possibly the staircase.


    Abi thought of the fire that usually surrounded her wings. It never burnt her, but it was certainly hot enough to leave scorch marks on anything she touched. She tried to summon that fire. Nothing happened. Apparently it only worked when she had wings. Instead she tried pressing her hand against the lock and willing it to heat up until it melted. It did indeed heat up, but at a certain point it got too hot for her to keep her hand against it. As soon as she drew back with a pained wince the metal returned to its normal coldness.


    The monsters were at the first storey landing now. Abi forced herself to stay calm. Ilaran was still there, a faint presence at the back of her mind, but he was polite enough not to distract her by saying anything. She considered how quickly the monsters would get here. Too quickly for her to waste any more time with trying to melt the lock. No, she''d just have to break the door down.


    She summoned her magic and threw it at the door like a battering ram. The door was blown right off its hinges and a short distance across the roof, along with the wall surrounding it. As soon as the dust cleared Abi turned into her phoenix form and took flight. She circled around the building and waited until the monsters rushed out onto the roof.


    The debris from the walls tripped them up. While they were disorientated and before they could go back into the building, Abi cast one of her incineration spells at them. Seconds later the ones on the roof and the ones immediately behind them had been reduced to dust. The ones further back on the stairs had the common sense to retreat before she could attack them too. She waited but none of them came out. Nor did they reappear down in the street below. She wheeled round and started back to the spaceport.


    About five minutes later she realised she was hopelessly lost. Everything looked so different at night. All the streets were more or less identical. Abandoned carriages littered all of them. Empty shops all looked the same. Even someone familiar with Gradon¨¦ would have been at a lost to tell where they were. Abi, who had never spent more than a week at most in the city before, was as confused as if she''d been dropped into the middle of a desert.


    She risked dropping down into one of the streets to read the signpost. It was useless. Tragotin Avenue -- Koghaen Arcade -- Venthana Street, read the first sign. Exhibition of Galrila Art: one mile west along Osben Road, read the second one.


    Have you ever heard of any of those places? Abi asked Ilaran without much hope.


    Never. I''ve never even been to Gradon¨¦.


    Abi sighed wearily and took off again. This expedition had been a very bad idea. All she''d succeeded in doing was killing a few more of the monsters. And seeing that ship, of course. In the morning she''d have to send out a warning for Saoridhl¨¦m to keep an eye out for it. The last thing anyone needed was a zombie outbreak on Vanerth.


    Already done, Ilaran said. For a terrifying minute Abi thought he meant the zombie outbreak. I mean the warning. I''ve sent one to your grandmother.


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    She continued flying around the city for a while. A nasty suspicion began to dawn that she was just flying in circles. She landed on the roof of another building. The street below was empty. Unless she counted that group of monsters she hadn''t seen a single living thing anywhere, either in the afternoon or at night.


    That raised some horrifying questions about how many survivors there were. There had to be some. Nothing, not even the monsters, could have wiped out the entire city. Abi told herself that over and over. She couldn''t quite make herself believe it.


    The best thing to do is stay here for the rest of the night. I can find my way back to the spaceport when the sun rises. Maybe I''ll see some survivors on the way.


    In this form she couldn''t lie down to sleep. Abi flew to the flagpole sticking out of the building''s wall and perched on it. She tucked her head under her wing as she''d seen real birds do. Then she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.


    <hr>


    Kitri reached the ghurmalath-¨²thernu station two hours after leaving Luinnakied. She had kept a sharp eye out for any monsters and was ready to use her weapons at a minute''s notice, but so far she saw nothing.


    The station looked like an ordinary train station with the exception of the tracks. Instead of railway tracks running beside the station, there was a huge iron girder placed a short distance away. It supported the track that the carriages ran beneath. A long flight of steps led from the door of the station up to the platform beside the track.


    As Kitri had expected, an empty carriage was stopped at the platform. It would have been the first carriage of the day, but obviously its driver hadn''t come to work. She tried to assure herself that he''d just heard about the monsters and decided to stay home. His absence didn''t automatically mean something terrible had happened to him.


    All the same, she looked through the station windows -- the main door was locked -- to make sure there were no monsters lurking inside. She left the horse free to wander back to Luinnakied, if it could find its own way back, or to wander to a farm if it couldn''t.


    She ran up the stairs to the carriage. Like all the carriages on this line it was dark blue with gold highlights. The door at the back was locked. Kitri struggled with the handle for a minute. Then she gave up, took out her gun, and shot the lock.


    Inside the carriage had a high ceiling and was lined with red armchairs and sofas. Kitri kept her gun ready as she walked the length of the carriage, half-expecting something to spring out at her at any minute.


    The door to the driver''s compartment was also locked. This time Kitri didn''t dare shoot the lock in case the bullet damaged some of the controls.


    In case of emergencies all the carriages had ladders attached to the ceilings and hammers attached to the walls, so that the passengers could break a window and climb down to the ground if they had to. Kitri took one of the hammers out of its holder and hit the lock as hard as she could. The door shook. She hit it again and again. Eventually the lock broke.


    She pushed the door open. The driver''s compartment was exactly like the one in her uncle''s carriage. First she turned on the engine. It took five minutes for it to warm up. In the meantime she examined the map attached to the wall. The route to the capital wasn''t on this line, but she could go as far as the Strait of Vauralok. Then she''d have to switch to another carriage that would get her to Gradon¨¦.


    If she remembered correctly there was a ghurmalath-¨²thernu station less than a mile from the city''s main spaceport. She could send a message to Saoridhl¨¦m from the port, then take shelter in the carriage until a ship arrived to pick her up. If she was lucky she might even meet some other survivors along the way and bring them with her.


    A green light switched on above the windscreen. She knew that meant the carriage was ready to move. Kitri sat down in the driver''s seat. The last time she''d been in a seat like this had been just over five years ago. Her uncle had been sitting behind her, telling her what to do and ready to step in if she needed help. It was much more nerve-wracking to be alone and have to rely only on her memories of what he''d told her.


    "This lever is the handbrake," she told herself. She lowered it. "Now press down the accelerator."


    The carriage began to move slowly. Kitri watched the roof of the station disappear. The only controls were the handbrake, the accelerator, and the brake. There was no steering wheel; it didn''t need one when it only went on this track. For obvious reasons it was impossible for a carriage that ran under a track to change to another track without a crane and a team of workmen and engineers. To avoid accidents no two tracks ever crossed paths. She had nothing to worry about except getting to the Strait as quickly as possible.


    No carriage was built to go faster than fifty miles an hour. She did some quick calculations. Assuming she went at top speed the whole time -- a risky idea when she didn''t know how long it could sustain that speed -- it would take her just under two hours to reach it. It would be better to go at forty miles an hour, which meant she''d reach it in closer to three hours.


    It looked like she wouldn''t reach Gradon¨¦ until early tomorrow morning.


    <hr>


    Most of Gradon¨¦''s survivors had congregated in the cellars under the shops in the Kulonar area. Years ago the old catacombs had been converted into storage for the shops overhead. There were endless boxes of food, bottles of water, medical supplies, spare clothes, and almost everything anyone could need. It wasn''t a comfortable place to stay -- no heating and inadequate lighting, to say nothing of no beds or bathrooms -- but under the circumstances it was the best of all possible options. The survivors could stay down here for weeks if they had to without running out of food.


    From time to time some of them ventured up the stairs to see what was happening in the city. The reports they brought back were simultaneously encouraging and alarming. None of the monsters had been seen in this part of the city for a full day. On the other hand, neither had they seen any sign of life. It looked as if the city was still deserted, and they had no idea if it was safe to go out yet.


    Underground and without clocks -- none of the ones in the boxes had batteries -- it was impossible to tell what time it was without venturing outside. Every few hours a guard would poke his head out of the door and tell everyone below if the sun had risen. Today he ran into the main cellar looking as surprised as if the sun had turned black.


    He announced, "It''s morning, and there''s a great big bird sitting on top of the department store!"

 Chapter XX: Fire-wing

    ''Ach, people''re always telling us no'' tae do things,'' said Rob Anybody. ''That''s how we ken what''s the most interestin'' things tae do!'' -- Terry Pratchett, Wintersmith


    After the first two days the gossip about Mirio and Lian''s supposed engagement mostly died down. Somehow or other word got out that Abi was a notorious troublemaker -- which was true -- and that led to the rumour that she''d probably eloped with Lian herself -- which was so far from the truth that Mirio found it a real struggle to keep a straight face. That rumour was widely believed in the court. Mirio almost felt sorry for Abi. Almost.


    Unfortunately that rumour was not believed in Seroyawa. As far as his father knew, he really was engaged to Lian, who really was going to come back at some point and ask to marry him. Mirio had never gotten so many angry letters from various relatives in his life. Most of them covered the same topics: it was stupid for Mirio to get engaged to someone after knowing them for at most a month, who was Lian anyway, how could Mirio debase himself by marrying a common foreigner from gods alone knew where...


    It was almost enough to make Mirio want to marry Lian just to spite them.


    He amused himself by imagining the wedding when he had nothing else to do -- and now that his cousins had gone back to their usual hobby of backstabbing each other and it was best for Mirio''s physical and mental health to stay far away from them, he often had nothing else to do. Mainly he imagined the absolute nightmare it would be.


    Possibility number one: no one told Raiv¨ªth who Lian really was. That would leave them with Mirio''s family snubbing Lian as an upstart commoner and possibly a gold digger planning to use Mirio as a meal ticket. Not to mention how they would treat Mirio himself. He wasn''t particularly popular with his extended family. They would show up to the wedding, of course, and behave impeccably in public. But the minute Lian set foot in Seroyawa he''d be subjected to all the spite and vitriol the royal court was capable of.


    To say nothing of how the ordinary people would react. If news reached them -- and it would if this so-called engagement lasted much longer; Mirio knew better than to hope the papers wouldn''t get wind of it somehow -- it would cause the biggest uproar since Great-Aunt Irodori broke up with her fianc¨¦ and eloped with a minstrel right before her wedding. Both Mirio and Lian would become the most talked about and least liked people in Seroyawa.


    Add to that mess the chaos it would cause in Gengxin -- would Lian be allowed to stay as Zi Yao''s doctor? Highly unlikely, and what would happen to Zi Yao then? -- and just thinking about it made Mirio want to run away and become a hermit living on a mountaintop.


    Possibility number two: they did tell Raiv¨ªth who Lian really was. All of possibility one would still happen, with the added scandal of Lian being a disgraced prince, a murderer, and a dark magician. Someone was bound to suggest that Lian had cast a spell on Mirio, and it would all probably end with Lian being arrested again.


    No, there was no way this fiasco ended well for any of them, and it was all Abi''s fault. And yet, even as he thought of all those terrible outcomes, Mirio found himself also thinking about what it would be like to be married to Lian.


    He knew he would have to marry someone at some point. The most likely candidate was a foreign royal. A few decades ago his father had considered arranging a marriage between him and a daughter of the Sultan of Ulurtah, and before that a potential spouse had been a prince of Kaxet''i. A grandson of the Empress of Saoridhl¨¦m would be a perfectly acceptable spouse -- in theory. And at least Mirio knew and liked Lian.


    Setting aside other people''s opinions, the only problem Mirio could see in this hypothetical marriage would be the question of physical intimacy. He didn''t want it with anyone and he could never marry someone who did want it. That would be unfair to both of them and it would doom the marriage before it began. But did Lian want it? It wasn''t the sort of subject that ever came up in conversation. All Mirio could say was that Lian had never shown any interest in men or women. Nor had he ever mentioned any former lovers.


    In the highly unlikely event that Lian was like Mirio and didn''t want intimacy, maybe a marriage between them would work out well. Mirio was shocked to catch himself thinking that he wouldn''t actually mind being married to Lian at all.


    Damn you, Abihira! he thought angrily, as if she was personally to blame for this. I''m going to throw you in the nearest river when you get back!


    Running away to a mountaintop looked more and more appealing.


    <hr>


    Abi could count on one hand the number of people whose dreams she wanted to get stuck in. Well, "wanted" was the wrong word. She didn''t want to get stuck in anyone''s dreams. But if she had to choose, she''d pick Kiriyuki, Mirio or Ir¨ªm¨¦. She knew all of them well enough that unwanted telepathy, although annoying and awkward, would also provide new and exciting blackmail material that would make up for the awkwardness. Ilaran was another matter. She''d known him for... was it really less than two months? And in that time she''d been forced to learn more about him than she''d learnt about some of her siblings. She''d already seen a far-too-large number of his memories; she did not want to see his dreams too.


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    At first she didn''t realise where she was. Everything was a confusing mixture of light and shadows. She blinked twice. The world resolved itself into a clearing in a forest. She lay on the grass staring up at the bright blue sky. Huge trees surrounded the clearing, indistinct in the way all things were in dreams. Abi had vague memories that weren''t her own of climbing those trees as a child. Behind them she caught glimpses of a castle that seemed simultaneously close and far away.


    It took her a minute to realise this wasn''t her dream, and another minute to realise she wasn''t alone. She groaned internally. Not again!


    "I''m sorry about this," she said wearily. "I''ll find some way to fix it. After I deal with everything else, I mean."


    Ilaran winced. "Please don''t. Don''t even try. You''d only make it worse, or undo the telepathy and do something equally bad."


    Abi had to admit he had a point. "Why do you think this is happening? I''m starting to think it''s Death punishing me for necromancy, but I don''t know why you''re being dragged into it."


    Ilaran shrugged. He was lying on the grass a short distance away with one arm draped over his eyes to block out the light. "I don''t know and honestly I''d rather not think about it. I was trying to sleep when you woke me earlier, and if I don''t get some sleep soon I might very well murder the first person to annoy me tomorrow."


    Abi fell silent. She managed to keep her mouth shut for well over ten minutes. But she thought the whole time, and finally she couldn''t suppress the urge to speak again. "You said you knew who the spaceship belonged to. Who?"


    "I don''t know," Ilaran said. "I just suspect it has something to do with Haliran."


    "Haliran? But she''s in prison." And good riddance, too. Abi regretted many things she''d done recently, but breaking Haliran''s arm wasn''t one of them.


    "She was. She escaped and I have no doubt she''s planning to kill me. Probably Siarvin too, for that matter. A walking corpse is exactly the sort of thing she''d like to get her hands on."


    Abi pictured the devastation that would ensue if Haliran set that corpse loose in Saoridhl¨¦m. She promptly wished she hadn''t. "We''ve got to do something about her!"


    "I''ve sent out a warning about the spaceship. I don''t suppose you know how to track each of your creations?"


    She''d never even thought of that. "I''m not sure if they count as my creations any more. They''ve been wandering around on their own for a long time. And no, I don''t. I''ll ask Lian if he knows."


    <hr>


    Abi didn''t know when or how she finally managed to fall asleep. It was a surprise when she opened her eyes and discovered the forest and Ilaran had vanished. Well, Ilaran had vanished physically. She could still sense his presence at the back of her mind.


    She realised three things almost simultaneously. One, it was morning. Two, she was still a phoenix. Three, the street below was full of people gawking at her.


    Abi didn''t know whether to be glad or horrified. On the one hand, she finally knew there were survivors. On the other, no one liked to be watched while they were sleeping. And it was disconcerting to discover her phoenix form didn''t have instincts to warn her when people approached. Any of them could have shot at her and she wouldn''t have had any warning.


    Cameras flashed. Abi suddenly knew exactly how Ir¨ªm¨¦ had felt while trapped in his dragon form. She spread her wings. The crowd gave an excited "Oooooohh!" More cameras flashed. Abi took off. A disconcerting number of excited cheers followed her as she soared over the building.


    Better check how many survivors there are and how many are injured, she thought.


    She banked and circled round. As she passed over the street she was greeted with more cheers. No one had ever reacted to her appearance like this before. She found she didn''t like it at all.


    About forty adults and twenty children, she counted. No one injured. At the side of one building was a cellar door propped open and with other people peering out of it. That explained where the survivors had been hiding and why she hadn''t seen any. People pointed up at her and turned to their friends as if they wanted to make sure they weren''t the only one seeing this.


    In this form Abi couldn''t explain why she was here or that they soon wouldn''t have to worry about the monsters any more. She tried to say a friendly "Good morning", but a phoenix''s vocal cords and beak weren''t designed for complicated sounds. All she managed was a high-pitched trill.


    The people gasped. She clearly heard someone shout, "It''s going to sing!"


    Oh no, Abi thought with a groan. The mythological rilluinaslis was supposed to have the second most beautiful song of any living creature[1]. She had an unpleasant suspicion that her song, on the other hand, would be as melodious as a crow''s.


    She wheeled round and flew away before they insisted on her singing for them.


    <hr>


    In the daylight it wasn''t as easy to find her way back as she''d thought. Abi still didn''t know where the spaceport was in comparison to the city centre, or which side of the city she was on. She flew higher than she''d ever flown before, even higher than she''d gone on her first flight, until she could see the entire city spread out beneath her and looking like more like a board game than a real place.


    Off to the right she spotted the distinctive domed glass roof of the spaceport outside the main city. With a flap of her wings she shot towards it much faster than she expected. Then she briefly got distracted by zooming around in circles, excited to discover how fast she could fly.


    As she approached the spaceport she saw that Ir¨ªm¨¦ wasn''t guarding the gate any more. It was closed so nothing could get in. Three small dots moved around the paved area beside the port. She drew nearer and they resolved themselves into Lian, Ir¨ªm¨¦ and Shizuki playing some sort of game. They stopped to watch her as she landed.


    As soon as Abi turned back into her immortal form a small figure barrelled into her. She yelped and stumbled back.


    The figure turned out to be Shizuki, who gave her a hug and asked excitedly, "What happened? Did you see any monsters? Did you kill them all?"


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ gave Abi a downright frosty look. "Where were you all night?"


    Abi tried to disentangle herself from Shizuki. She failed. He hung on like a limpet. "I got lost so I slept on a building''s roof. Something very strange happened last night."


    Lian and Ir¨ªm¨¦ both looked horrified.


    Lian asked warily, "Strange as in ''all the monsters are gone''? Or strange as in ''they''re now impervious to fire''?"


    "Neither, but closer to the second than the first."

 Chapter XXI: The Trap is Baited

    When people say impossible, they usually mean improbable. -- Leigh Bardugo, Siege and Storm


    The three of them listened to Abi''s story in horror.


    "Someone stole a monster? Someone stole a monster?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ repeated the words under his breath as if he couldn''t quite grasp their meaning. Finally he demanded, "Why?"


    Abi could only shrug helplessly. "I don''t know, but it''s not for anything good. I can''t imagine anyone wanting to unleash the monsters on another planet, especially when they''re likely to become a victim themselves, but that''s what will happen if the one on that ship bites anyone. Hell, it might have already bitten someone on board." She just knew she was going to have nightmares about that thought. "So we''ve got to get rid of all the monsters here and then get back to Saoridhl¨¦m as fast as we can. Ilaran thinks the ship might be connected to Haliran."


    Something sharpened in Lian''s eyes. "Haliran? Do you by any chance mean Haliran Norshinthadsv¨®eln d''ran-Oh¨¦ridh?"


    "I don''t know her matronymic or clan name[1]," Abi admitted. "I only know her as Haliran-r¨²duan."


    Lian nodded slowly. His lips thinned and his eyes narrowed. "Is she the one who forced her husband to marry her?"


    Abi glanced down at Shizuki -- who had gone eerily still when his mother was mentioned -- then exchanged a look with Ir¨ªm¨¦. Both of them were thinking the exact same thing. Shizuki picked up on it and complained at once.


    "I know what you''re thinking," he said in an aggrieved tone. "You think I''m too young to listen! I''m not!"


    Abi sensed a tantrum was imminent. She and Ir¨ªm¨¦ exchanged distinctly more panicked glances this time. Lian stepped in before Shizuki could get too angry.


    He knelt down so he was on eye level with Shizuki. "It''s not that you''re too young, just that some things are better not spoken about to anyone unless we have no choice."


    Shizuki scowled. "It''s stupid. Everyone cares so much about not talking about things. I''ve seen those things! Father lived them! Not talking about it doesn''t do anything."


    Lian gave Abi a questioning look. She explained with a very brief, "Haliran''s his mother."


    Lian looked startled, while Shizuki''s scowl intensified. "Not my mother. I hate her."


    "Can''t say I blame you," Lian said, recovering quickly from his surprise. "I take it that you already know the... deeply unpleasant nature of your parents'' marriage?"


    Shizuki nodded and shrugged at the same time. "Don''t know everything. Know Father hates her and she hates him."


    "How do you know about Haliran and Siarvin?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked Lian.


    "It''s a long story." Everything seemed to be a long story with Lian. "After I left my parents'' home--" What an understated way to describe that incident, "--I worked with an alchemist for a while. Haliran was an old friend of hers and she often talked about her. I''ve never met Haliran but I heard a lot about her. Like how she ended up married to that unfortunate man. Siarvin, did you say his name is? I hope his life has improved now?"


    Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ nodded. "He divorced her and now he''s living in Ilaran''s principality."


    "I hope they have guards," Lian said grimly. "I wouldn''t be surprised if Haliran wants to unleash that monster on them."


    Shizuki drew his breath in sharply. He looked up at Abi. "Warn Ilaran! You have to warn him!"


    "He already knows," Abi assured him. "Haliran won''t get anywhere near them." To Lian and Ir¨ªm¨¦ she added, "We''d better finish up here as fast as we can. When all the monsters are dead we''ll find a survivor who can fly a spaceship, or Lian can take us home through the Void." She shuddered at the idea, but it was certainly the fastest way she knew of that would get them home. "Ir¨ªm¨¦, follow me in your dragon form and I''ll lead you to the theatre. Then I''ll summon all the monsters and we can destroy them. Lian, keep Shizuki here."


    Shizuki immediately let go of Abi and ran over to cling to Ir¨ªm¨¦ instead. "No! I want to go flying! You promised!"


    Before anyone could answer Lian said, "I''m the strongest magician here. It''s foolish at best to leave me behind when you might need my help. We''ve no idea how many monsters there are or how long it will take them all to reach the theatre. As long as Shizuki stays on Ir¨ªm¨¦''s back he should be perfectly safe."


    Abi glared at him. "Do you want to go home and tell Siarvin that his son has been turned into a monster? Because I most certainly do not."


    "Do you think any monster would dare to attack a dragon?"


    "I don''t want to be left out," Shizuki complained.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ cleared his throat. "I have an idea. As long as Shizuki stays in his snake form and as long as I stay in the air, he should be perfectly safe. And if there''s any danger Lian can take him home then come back."


    The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Abi considered this. "Wait and I''ll ask Ilaran." She did the telepathic equivalent of knocking on his door. This time she waited politely until he answered. We''re going to kill the monsters. Do you mind if we take Shizuki with us? Ir¨ªm¨¦''s going to keep him safe.


    Ilaran was silent for a moment. She got the impression he was relaying that information to someone else. Finally he replied. Siarvin says that even if you left Shizuki behind he''d find some way to follow you, so it''s safer for him if you bring him and keep an eye on him. But make sure he never gets within twenty feet of a monster!


    Don''t worry about that, Abi reassured him. Lian and I are going to kill the monsters on the ground. Ir¨ªm¨¦ will fly overhead with Shizuki.


    "Ilaran says that Siarvin says it''s all right," she reported to the other three.


    Shizuki gave a delighted cheer. "Turn into a dragon now!" he begged Ir¨ªm¨¦. "Let''s go flying!"


    Abi turned to Lian. "What about you? How are you going to get there? I''d offer to let you fly on my back, but my wings tend to burn people."


    She remembered the deaths of the parasites and the monsters she''d killed and shuddered at the thought of that happening to Lian.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ looked alarmed. "Whatever you do, I hope you don''t want to fly on my back. I can manage Shizuki, but I don''t think I can carry an adult."


    "Don''t worry," Lian said. "I can travel through the Void now that I have an idea of where I''m travelling to."


    <hr>


    Legend said many things about dragons. The history books claimed that in the reign of Empress ¨²nrovien there had been dragons in the imperial army, and when Saoridhl¨¦m went to war against the Navnari Confederation the dragons had carried soldiers on their backs. The more restrained accounts said they carried only one or two soldiers at a time, mainly for reconnaissance or to transport someone who urgently needed to be somewhere else. The wilder ones claimed they carried entire companies at once.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ had always doubted the second group of stories. Now he doubted the first one as well. Flying was hard. Flap his wings too often and he flew too fast or too high. If he didn''t flap them often enough he would start to sink. It would have been a nerve-wracking experience if he''d been on his own. It was ten times more nerve-wracking when Shizuki was coiled around his neck.


    Abi, damn her, literally flew circles around him and cawed encouragement -- at least he assumed she was trying to be encouraging; she might also have been laughing at his clumsiness in the air -- as if she hadn''t flown a grand total of three times before.


    From time to time Abi would zoom off into the distance or even high into the sky, circle round a few times, then dive back down and point him in the right direction. It occurred to Ir¨ªm¨¦ that it would have been much faster if he and Shizuki had gone with Lian and if he''d waited until they arrived at the theatre to transform.


    Occasionally Abi gave a weird, whooping sort of call. Ir¨ªm¨¦ couldn''t explain why but it set his teeth on edge. He finally understood what she was doing when they passed over a group of monsters. They were slowly shambling along a street. At Abi''s call they turned and began following Abi and Ir¨ªm¨¦ instead.


    Before they reached the theatre they passed over several other groups. All of them were now headed in the same direction. There were far more of them than Ir¨ªm¨¦ had expected. None of them moved fast and they were soon left far behind.


    At last the distinctive high walls of an open-air theatre appeared in front. Abi landed on the sign over the doorway. Lian appeared in the doorway. Ir¨ªm¨¦ considered landing on the stage, the only place large enough for him to land on comfortably, but decided against it when he remembered the monsters. Instead he flew higher until he had clear view of both the theatre and all the streets around it.


    None of the monsters had reached them yet. Abi gave her eerie call again. Ir¨ªm¨¦ spread his wings and tried to hold as still as he could. To his surprise he found he could hover much better than he had expected. Abi swooped down to the ground and turned back into her immortal form.


    She and Lian spoke for a while. Ir¨ªm¨¦ caught only a few words of what they said. It sounded like "some are coming", "what if-- didn''t hear me--", and most disturbingly "need blood". Lian handed something to Abi. The two of them walked back into the theatre. Lian waited on the inside of the door while Abi walked down to the stage.


    She stopped in the middle of it like an actor about to begin a soliloquy. In one hand she held the thing Lian had given her. To Ir¨ªm¨¦''s shock he saw it was a knife. He watched in horror as she rolled up her sleeve and made a shallow cut on her arm.


    "What did she do that for?" Shizuki asked.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ could only shrug helplessly. "She must know what she''s doing."


    He watched as Abi''s blood trickled down her arm and dripped onto the stage.


    <hr>


    "Blood has power in all sorts of dark magic," Lian said. "If nothing else works the monsters might need blood to summon them. Any blood would work, but your blood would be most effective."


    Abi nodded. "Some of them are coming, but they''re coming very slowly. We need all of them here as quickly as possible. Do you have a knife?"


    Lian reached into his coat pocket and drew out a small knife. Its handle was made of copper-coloured metal and its blade was concealed in a black sheath with silver and gold decorations. When he drew it out of its sheath she saw its blade had an ornate design etched down the centre. It looked more like a ceremonial knife used during the New Year''s Celebrations[2] than an actual weapon meant to be used on people.


    "Don''t cut your hand," Lian said. "I know it seems the most convenient place, but hands have a lot of nerves. No matter where you cut you''ll hurt yourself. Try the back of your arm. There are fewer nerves there and it won''t hurt as much. And don''t cut deep! Just enough to bleed and no more."


    Abi took the knife and walked down to the stage. We have to draw them as far into the theatre as possible so they can''t escape, she thought.


    She climbed onto the stage, took out the knife, and rolled up her sleeve.


    <hr>


    Kitri woke up with a start. At first she couldn''t remember where she was or what had happened. She stared blankly at the windscreen, dials and levers in front of her. Then it all came back. She was on a ghurmalath-¨²thernu carriage, and it had just stopped at the last station before the Strait of Vauralok.


    Ahead of her she saw the glittering water of the Strait. At this point it was less than twenty feet wide and crossed by a bridge. The bridge had been built high up onto the cliffs on either side of the Strait so that there was plenty of room left underneath for boats to get through. To get from the station to the bridge she would have to climb down the stairs, run along the road that led up to the bridge, and then race across it and find the first ghurmalath-¨²thernu station on the other side.


    Kitri put on the handbrake and left the driver''s compartment. A flash of movement down on the ground caught her eye. She looked down. Her mouth dropped open.


    A long line of monsters streamed over the bridge. They ran faster than she''d ever seen them run before, jostling each other out of the way in their haste. On the other side she saw the line stretch away into the distance. There were at least five hundred monsters down there.


    And they were all heading directly for the capital.

 Chapter XXII: The Mousetrap

    They will be like shadows, they will be like wraiths, grey members of a congregation of nightmare... -- Angela Carter, The Company of Wolves


    Before a terrible storm the world seemed to hold its breath. All sounds were muted and all movement stilled. Abi remembered the first storm she''d seen in Seroyawa, and the way the rain came rushing in from the sea. Somehow her memories got mixed up with unfamiliar ones, of a plain with hills in the distance, and the rain sweeping down from the hills. She knew those were Ilaran''s memories. She couldn''t tell whether the feeling of being utterly alone against a large and deadly enemy was his memory or what she was feeling right now. Probably both.


    What''s that memory about? she asked, mainly to distract herself from this awful waiting and the stinging of the wound on her arm.


    The battle on the plain of Cseltham¨¢z, Ilaran said.


    What happened?


    For the next few minutes her attention was absorbed by his account of the battle -- a battle that hadn''t actually happened because he used geography to his advantage[1].


    Pity we can''t trick the monsters into leaving without a fight, she thought.


    Abi caught a whisper of Ilaran''s reaction: Pity you created them in the first place. To her surprise he made an effort to keep that to himself, which he really didn''t need to. She knew as well as he did that she was solely to blame for all of this. There was no point in trying to hide from that.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ hovered far overhead, where he could see over the city and keep Shizuki out of harm''s way at the same time. Abi stood in his shadow so that she was out of the increasingly-hot sun. When his shadow suddenly moved she looked up. He''d turned to the left and appeared to be staring intently at something. Then he gave a low, rumbling roar.


    Abi didn''t have to understand what he said to know what he meant. She looked up at Lian. He nodded grimly and stepped out of the doorway so nothing would see him until it was inside the theatre. Even though she knew he was still there Abi suddenly found it hard to see him. It was as if her brain was trying to convince her that he wasn''t there any more.


    I wish I could do that, she thought.


    In the distance she heard a faint noise. It became louder and louder. Soon it was unmistakeably the sound of running feet. Abi turned into her phoenix form and flew up to Ir¨ªm¨¦''s level. From here she saw a large swarm of the monsters rushing towards them. Another group followed a little way behind them. There were only about a hundred in all. Obviously there were more monsters that hadn''t answered her call yet. Destroying all of them would take longer than she''d hoped.


    Abi turned to Ir¨ªm¨¦. Shizuki was still coiled around his neck and watching events unfolding with interest, she noticed. Lian and I are going to lock of them as we can into the theatre. You can burn them, and I''ll deal with the ones that come later.


    She flew over to perch on the wall overlooking the road. Lian climbed up beside her, staying far enough away to be out of danger from her wings. In one hand he held a rope. The other end was tied around the door handle to keep it open.


    "When they''re all inside I''ll close the door," he said.


    The two of them watched as the monsters approached. Without looking up the first group streamed through the open door and down the aisle between the rows of seats. They clambered up onto the stage. Some of them flung themselves down and began to lick up the drops of Abi''s blood. The second group reached the door as the last of the first group went through it. Both groups swarmed all over the theatre.


    Lian pulled the rope. It came off the door handle and the door swung closed.


    Abi took to the air. Lian jumped to the ground. It was a much longer fall than any immortal should have been able to survive without at least one broken bone. Lian landed on his feet, straightened up, and stepped away from the wall without showing the slightest hint of pain.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ swooped down until he was hovering just above where the theatre''s roof would be if it had one.  Somewhat belatedly Abi began to worry that maybe he was the sort of dragon that couldn''t breathe fire. Had she ever actually asked him? This would be the worst possible time to learn her assumption was wrong.


    Her worries were quickly put to rest. A gust of flames shot from Ir¨ªm¨¦''s mouth. Within minutes most of the monsters had been incinerated. Abi circled overhead and kept an eye out for any attempted escapes. When she saw some of them running for the door she swept down and burnt them. The combination of dragon-fire and phoenix-fire quickly cleared the entire theatre.


    Unfortunately it also burnt the stage and many of the chairs to a crisp. Abi kept a mental tally of all the damage and how much it was likely to cost. In addition to that fine to Haliran she would have to pay for repairs to the theatre.


    She had no more time to think about that now. Another group of monsters were approaching. Lian opened the door again.


    <hr>


    Kitri watched until the last monsters vanished into the distance. She didn''t venture out of the carriage yet. There might be some stragglers lagging far behind the main group.


    All of the carriages had a small kitchen to provide snacks on long journeys. She left the driver''s compartment and went to the kitchen at the back of the carriage. There were packets of rice and tins of fish, but those needed to be cooked. She didn''t feel like going to all the trouble of lighting the stove. Instead she found a loaf of bread -- fresh enough that it must have been bought the day before -- and made herself a sandwich with some cheese. Then she lay down on one of the sofas and tried to sleep.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    When she next opened her eyes the sun was high overhead. Kitri sat up and looked out the window. From here she could see all the roads approaching the bridge, and there were no monsters in sight anywhere. The ones ahead had by now had plenty of time to get well out of her way.


    She got up and checked her weapons. Then she left the carriage and climbed down the stairs to the station. When she reached the ground she ran for the bridge as fast as her legs would carry her. She didn''t stop until she was safely on the other side. Then she climbed another flight of stairs up to a carriage on the other side. This one had silver and red decorations. The choice of red struck her as being in rather bad taste, especially now of all times[2].


    Kitri sat down in the driver''s compartment and started on the track to Gradon¨¦. All the way there she kept an eye out for the monsters. She didn''t see any of them. It was as if they''d vanished into thin air.


    That unnerved her more than if she''d seen them on the road.


    <hr>


    The trouble with killing the monsters was that Abi had no idea how many there were to kill. Over and over again she and Ir¨ªm¨¦ destroyed groups of them at a time. By her count they''d now killed approximately five hundred. Surely there couldn''t be many more than that. And yet every time she thought they might have killed them all, another group would appear.


    During a brief lull after destroying one group and while waiting for the next to arrive, she flew down and settled beside Lian. She didn''t like to turn back into her immortal form -- especially since the wall was narrow for an immortal to stand on -- but she couldn''t speak to him in her phoenix form. She changed back, and as she''d feared she stumbled and almost fell. Lian grabbed her arm and steadied her.


    "Can you sense how many monsters there are left?" Abi asked when she recovered.


    Lian''s eyes briefly went unfocused and he seemed to be staring right through her. It sent a chill down her spine. Then his eyes went back to normal so quickly that she was left wondering if she''d imagined it.


    "I don''t think there are many left," he said. "I can''t guess at exact numbers, but I''d say less than a hundred." That was reassuring. Abi began to hope they would be able to leave within an hour. Lian continued, "Can''t you tell yourself? They''re your creations."


    Abi shrugged helplessly. When she examined her magic she could sense there was something connected to it, but that was all. She explained this to Lian.


    "Try following that connection and seeing where it leads," he suggested. She gave him a dubious look. "Don''t worry. I''ll help you if something goes wrong."


    Oh well. At least his suggestion could hardly make things worse. Abi closed her eyes. It was almost like following Ilaran through his memories and into the Land of the Dead. Only instead of walking into an invisible wall, she took a step forward and suddenly found herself seeing out of dozens of eyes.


    Abi blinked. She tried to make sense of what she was seeing. Most of the eyes showed her streets and buildings rushing past too quickly to be identified. Apparently the owners were running somewhere at top speed. Those ones must be the monsters still in the city and heading for the theatre. Only one pair of eyes showed something different. It showed indistinct darkness all around.


    Abi counted the number of eyes. "Seventy-six are heading this way," she told Lian. "There''s another one that isn''t. It must be the one of the spaceship."


    "Seventy-six isn''t too many," Lian said optimistically. "And the one on the ship will be easy to deal with."


    As long as it doesn''t bite anyone, Abi thought grimly.


    She focused on those eyes. From her perspective she couldn''t tell much about what was happening, but she got the impression the monster was confined in a very small space. The indistinct darkness seemed to be walls. It was almost like being in a coffin. In the distance she could hear indistinct voices. Three people, from the sounds of it. All arguing about something.


    "Here comes the last group," Lian said.


    Abi returned to reality abruptly. She turned back into her phoenix form and took to the air. Lian waited until all the monsters were inside then closed the door again.


    <hr>


    When the last monsters were dealt with the four of them gathered at the theatre door. Ir¨ªm¨¦ had landed on the street outside and turned back into an immortal. Shizuki stayed in his snake form and coiled himself around Ir¨ªm¨¦''s chest. Abi also changed back. Lian jumped off the wall.


    They looked down at the damage. All of the seats had been reduced to crumpled piles of melted metal. The stage no longer existed. The walls and floor were blackened with smoke. Ash covered everything.


    Ir¨ªm¨¦ broke the silence. "What a mess."


    Abi nodded solemnly. "I''ll find some way to pay the owners for the damage. Maybe if I get a job..." She remembered her aunt''s remark about sending her to Tananerl. The idea of asking Ilaran to give her a job suddenly seemed much more sensible.


    "I''ll help you pay for it," Ir¨ªm¨¦ said. "I mean, I did most of the damage." He suddenly looked worried. "There aren''t any more monsters, are there?"


    Abi followed the magical connection again. The only pair of eyes left were the ones belonging to the monster on the spaceship. It wasn''t surrounded by darkness any more. Instead it was wrapped in chains and being dragged out of the ship.


    "Wait a minute," she said. "Something''s happening. I have to see this."


    "Is it dangerous?" Ir¨ªm¨¦ asked.


    "Not yet. Shh!"


    She watched as the monster was brought into a large room. From the glimpses Abi got of it, she suspected it was a warehouse. The people holding the chains yanked the monster into a cage. She couldn''t see how they did it, but as soon as they closed the door they removed the chains.


    The monster flung itself at the bars, snarling and screeching. Abi watched in horror as it tried to tear the bars apart. They were stronger than it was, and eventually it gave up. It paced around its cage like a wild animal, stopping to hiss at its captors when it spotted them.


    Something out of the corner of its eye drew Abi''s attention. By now the monster had moved on and she couldn''t see it any more.


    Stop, she ordered.


    To her astonishment the monster obeyed. It froze in place and its snarls ceased. For a minute Abi was too surprised to do anything with this newfound discovery. The force of her order wore off and the monster resumed its pacing.


    Stop, she repeated. Again it stopped. I could have just ordered them all to stop? Abi thought in disbelief. So much devastation, all this effort to destroy them, and I could have stopped it the whole time?


    She''d never felt so furious with herself. If time travel had been possible she would have gone back in time at once and punched her past self in the face for both causing this disaster in the first place and not knowing how to stop it.


    The monster continued its pacing. As it turned Abi saw the thing that had attracted her attention before. Her blood ran cold.


    Two people stood on the walkway over the monster''s cage. They were deep in conversation with each other. One was a woman Abi didn''t recognise. In appearance she was perfectly average, unmemorable even, but there was something about her that set Abi''s teeth on edge.


    The other was Haliran.


    END OF BOOK FOUR

 Important Notice

    A very important author''s note:


    I''m excited to announce that The Power and the Glory has been shortlisted for a writing award on another website! Unfortunately this means I have to make it exclusive to that website for a while, so I''m deleting the chapters posted here. Obviously I''m also removing them from FictionPress and Archive of Our Own. If I don''t win, I can reupload them starting in November. If I win, I''ll have to wait until November next year. Either way, I''m very excited about this!


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Here''s hoping I''ll win!

 Update

    Follow-on from the previous announcement: I entered this story in the Watty awards on Wattpad (I wasn''t allowed to name the awards until the shortlist was released in October), and although I made it onto the shortlist I''m sorry to say I didn''t win.


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    On the bright side, I was obligated to make TPATG exclusive to Wattpad only until the winners were announced. They were announced earlier in November, which means I can now begin to reupload/undelete the story here and on other writing sites (AO3 and FictionPress)!