Page 80 of All the Wandering Light

River glanced at me. “He is ancient.”

I swallowed. “What do you plan to do?” I said, because I was genuinely curious. River had, after all, risked his life in returning to the emperor’s court. And he wasn’t here out of concern for the Empire’s safety.

“I meet with Lozong’s generals tomorrow,” River said, his voice muffled as he leaned over a drawer. “I’ll tell them everything I know about Esha’s plans. Then I’ll help them hunt him down.”

“What will you tell them?”

“That after the binding spell broke, I spied on the witches in the Nightwood.” He flashed me a smile. “The best lies double as truths.”

I felt cold. If River could lie so easily to the emperor, then I should have no problem lying to him. I gazed at the back of his tousled head. Once the emperor recast the binding spell, we would go back to being enemies.

I felt a tiny flicker of triumph at the thought of River realizing that I had deceived him. It surprised me. My anger was still there, and part of me wanted to hurt him as he had hurt me.

Yet I knew what the emperor’s spell had done to River and the others. It hadn’t destroyed them, but it had taken away what they were. Living death, Lusha had said.

A little shiver ran down my spine. “What do you want me to say?”

“You don’t have to say anything,” River said. “The emperor wants to meet the girl who guided my expedition to Raksha, but he’s unlikely to question you. You don’t have to be part of this anymore, Kamzin. I should think you’d be happy about that.”

My heart was beating too quickly, and I felt an echo of my irritation with Lusha. You don’t have to do anything. Here was River, saying the same thing—telling me to sit back, to let others worry about the fate of the Empire. As if Azmiri’s safety didn’t concern me.

I glared at the back of his head. They were both insufferable.

“Here.” River came to my side, pressing something into my hand. The blue of his tunic deepened the gold of his left eye—it seemed to glow like a cat’s. I glanced down—he had given me a dagger, the hilt elegantly carved, the blade black and glossy. Obsidian.

“This is yours?”

He smiled. “It’s no danger to me unless I fall on it. I’ve been hearing strange rumors from some of the servants—you should keep this close to you.”

I looked at it glumly. I doubted I would be any more skilled with a dagger than I was with a bow. It would be better for River to give it to Lusha.

As if reading my thoughts in my eyes, River closed his hand over mine. He guided the dagger toward himself, allowing the tip to rest against the fabric of his tunic, just below his ribs.

“Here,” he said quietly. “Like this. Or here.” He lifted the dagger to his throat, pressing it against the hollow between his collarbones.

My hand, covered by his, felt very hot. My fingers were only inches from the curve of his jaw. When he released my hand, I let it drift down, the point of the dagger skimming his tunic. He held my gaze, his lips parted slightly, as if about to speak, but no words came. I could count every freckle on his nose, and every black eyelash.

I had a sudden thought, which surfaced like something rising through fog. “What strange rumors?”

He blinked. “There have been sightings throughout the palace, and elsewhere in the Three Cities. Illusions of shadow.”

I felt a chill. “What sort of illusions?”

“Doors opening onto unfamiliar passages. Dark towers that disappear when the dawn touches them. Walls of shadow where no walls existed before.”

“Dark towers,” I murmured. It didn’t make any sense. Yet the description was familiar—it was what we had found on the summit of Raksha. The witches’ ancient, abandoned city—strange ruins made of shadow tucked into that wind-blasted peak.

“I saw something like that in the corridor,” I said. “It was like the sky city.”

“Not ‘like,’” River said thoughtfully. “I think it is the sky city. Traces of it, anyway.”

I stared at him, uncomprehending. “Is Esha doing this?”

“No. The sky city isn’t really a city. It’s . . . alive. Sentient. And it can move from place to place. According to the stories, it wasn’t always on Raksha. It was somewhere else, somewhere far away.”

“But—” I still didn’t understand. “Are you saying it’s starting to move here? To the Three Cities? Why?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps it believes the Empire is falling.”