Page 48 of All the Wandering Light

“I understood you to be in the north, with River Shara,” the general continued.

“I wish I had time for pleasantries,” Mara said, “but I’m on urgent business for the emperor. What is the news here? This is not the customary deployment for the Fourth.”

“No.” The general’s eyes, heavily lined from decades of squinting against sun and weather, swept over the village. “The emperor recalled us from our campaign against the western barbarians after he received an urgent request from the Elder of Lhotang. It seems there have been sightings of witches.”

Mara could hear the man’s skepticism in his voice. “When?” he asked, as a chill settled in his chest.

“They come at night, they say.” The general paused as his captain came forward to murmur in his ear. She stepped back, clearly waiting for the general’s interview with Mara to end. “Some in shadow form. I haven’t seen them myself. The Elder’s house was swarmed by a flock of birds who pecked at her shutters all night and tore apart her dogs. Half the yaks in the village have gone missing, some found later, in pieces. No human deaths, however.” He scratched his side idly, under his armor. “The mountain villages tend toward superstition. Unusual occurrences are often attributed to spirits or witches.”

“You must believe it.” Mara’s voice was firm. “The witches’ powers are unbound. I must deliver the news to the emperor.”

The general stared at him. “Then you have seen them?”

Mara briefly considered telling this man the whole story, if for no other reason than to witness his amazement. But no—the emperor must hear it from him firsthand.

“I have seen them,” he said, though in truth, he had only seen one. “It is as I’ve said. The spell that contained the witches has broken, and they are preparing an attack on the Empire.”

“Then why bother with the villages?” the man demanded. Mara bristled at the doubt in his voice, and tried to remind himself that the man’s skepticism was natural—the witches had been a dormant threat for years, now primarily invoked to frighten naughty children. “Why not strike the Three Cities directly?”

Mara gave him a grim look. “Can you not think of a reason? Yours is not the only army to be drawn away from the Three Cities and stationed far away on the outskirts of the Empire. Is it?”

The general’s face paled. But he was a soldier well into his sixties, and had seen much, and he only took a moment to master himself. “Then you are saying—”

“Gather your soldiers,” Mara said. “Make for the Three Cities without delay.”

“I can’t. Not without the approval of Emperor Lozong.”

Mara bit back his frustration. Of course it was as the man said—the emperor had sent the Fourth Army here, and the general could not simply ignore his orders on the word of one man, even if that man was one of the emperor’s explorers. He thought of other villages even more remote than Lhotang, days from the Three Cities even if every soldier traveled on horseback. It took days, weeks even, to move an entire army from place to place. Mara doubted they had that long.

The general was gesturing to several of his soldiers. “I will assign you an escort to the Three Cities. You will have a fresh horse and depart without delay. The Fourth Army will remain here to await the emperor’s decision.”

Mara nodded, and the general strode away, speaking quickly with his captain.

Mara gazed over the village, its small homes nestled in the chilly embrace of the glacial river. Smoke wound from several chimneys, mingling with the mist off the water. Mara breathed it in—a clean, honest smell, unlike the smoke that had hovered over Jangsa. A knot of villagers stood at the edge of the square, watching him, and he wondered whether they had overheard his conversation. Mara thought of shadows moving in the night, of dogs torn apart by unseen claws.

His mind turned to Lusha, as it often had during his journey south, and the fallen star. Mara didn’t doubt Lusha’s abilities, but their mission was near impossible. It was his view that the only hope of saving the Empire lay with him—if he could reach the Three Cities in time, and convince the emperor to recall his armies. . . . Now, though, he found himself wondering whether Lusha could succeed, against all odds. For if she didn’t, if the witches found the star and gained the power to smash the Three Cities with one blow—

Mara swallowed. River and the other witches had laid a perfect trap, which was now beginning to close. It was possible that their only hope now rested on Lusha’s shoulders, and the impossible mission she had undertaken in the Ashes. Shaking his head, Mara strode off, snapping instructions at the soldiers hurrying after him.

Sixteen

“YOU’RE SURE ABOUT this?”

“Positive.”

“But I don’t see anything.”

I handed Lusha the coil of rope. “It’s there.”

She gave me a suspicious look. She’d been giving me suspicious looks since I had shaken her awake that morning, after returning to the tent with news that Tem and I had located the star. Now, after hours of hard climbing and a risky traverse, we stood at the base of an icy crag on a precarious outcropping of rock, gazing up at the ledge I had memorized. I wished that Mingma was with us—the ghost could have reached the ledge in a heartbeat—but he hadn’t shown himself since last night.

The light from the star seemed even fainter in the early twilight than it had at dawn, and I wasn’t sure if I could see it at all, or if the light on the snow was playing tricks on my eyes. I hid my doubts from Lusha—not that it did any good.

“According to my calculations,” she said, as the wind whistled around us, “we’re too far west. There’s a reason we didn’t search this area.”

“Lusha.” I clasped her arms and spoke slowly. “Your calculations are probably correct. I may have imagined what I saw, and right now, I’m wasting time. I’m good at that. But there’s a chance the star is up there. And I find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t want to eliminate every possibility.”

Tem glanced up from the kinnika. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come?”