Page 91 of All the Wandering Light

The emperor’s gaze moved from Lusha to River, who showed no reaction. Yet I could feel him tense as he repressed his surprise.

“Is this true, River?” Emperor Lozong’s expression held a hunger that struck me as eerie. For a brief moment, I saw his age in his eyes.

River was quiet for a moment. “I had planned to share the good news with you in private, Your Highness.”

The emperor let out a low laugh. Something in him seemed to shift as he gazed at Lusha, and it struck me, suddenly, that he wanted to believe River. She returned his gaze, her expression cool except for the faint flush on her cheeks.

“Your word means more to me, River,” the emperor said finally, “than that of any other. And so I consent—I will listen, and then I will judge these two, though they have given me little reason to trust them.”

Lusha said, “If we could speak privately—”

“It seems a shame,” the emperor interrupted, an odd smile tugging at his mouth, “to waste a dress like that, Lusha. And I enjoy conversation while I dance.”

He made a gesture, and one of the musicians started to play. The sound of the bone flute was soon joined by other instruments—drums and cymbals and bells—until the hall was filled with music twisting through that echoing space. The buzz of conversation resumed as the courtiers’ attention was drawn from the dais. Some drifted away, while others paired off and began to dance.

“Keep that one under guard,” the emperor said, stepping off the dais with a gesture in my direction.

I opened my mouth, outraged, but River said, “I’ll stay with her.”

The emperor gave a shrug. As the music soared through the hall, he took Lusha’s hand. A space opened for them among the swirl of couples, and the emperor took her in his arms, holding her perhaps a little more tightly than was customary. Lusha looked supremely unconcerned, returning his grip without flinching. He spoke in her ear, and she drew back to reply, her face still flushed. Then they disappeared into the throng of dancers.

The courtiers in the vicinity were still staring at me, while the guards, not explicitly dismissed, hovered nearby. Before I even had time to think, River was taking my arm and pulling me through the crowd almost as roughly as the guard had. One took a step toward us, but River simply glanced his way, and the man fell back.

“Tem,” I managed to get out, once my brain was working again, “we have to find him—the emperor knows—”

“Yes, the emperor knows a good deal more than I thought,” River said, his voice low. We were on the balcony, the air cold against my flushed skin. River ignored the comments tossed his way and drew me into a sheltered nook against a stone pillar. Then the world went dark.

I gasped. River had drawn the shadows over us like a blanket, through which the flickering lights of the fires and dragons were visible only dimly. The night was just as chilly, the breeze fluttering through the veil unimpeded. It was such a strange sensation that I could only stare at him as he pressed me against the stone, his face inches from mine.

“You met the emperor,” he said. “He held you captive for hours. How could you not have known who he was?”

I shoved at him ineffectually. “Is it my fault that everyone in the Three Cities has a secret identity? I suppose the tailor who attended us is also General of the First Army?”

River scrubbed the side of his head, mussing his hair further. “This isn’t a joke. Do you have any idea how much danger you’re in? The emperor thinks you’re a witch.”

“Yes, we’ve established that the emperor is terrible at spotting witches. I don’t see how that’s my fault.”

“Why did Lusha tell him about the star?” River’s voice held a dangerous note now. “She’s up to something, isn’t she? I saw it in her face. What is it?”

All my anger flooded back, everything I had been carrying since Raksha, intensified. “The star is capable of more than you realize. Lozong used a fallen star to cast the binding spell.”

River blinked. He seemed, for a moment, too shocked to speak. Then his expression darkened.

“Did he?” His voice was eerily calm, and for the first time I saw an echo of his terrifying brother. “And you weren’t thinking of sharing that detail?”

“No. Because this isn’t about you. This is about my village. My family.”

“I believe I said something similar when we stood on the summit of Raksha. I seem to recall you sending me over a cliff afterward.”

His words brought me back to Raksha, and for a moment I felt as if we stood again on that windswept summit, facing each other. “You won’t do anything to me.”

“You’re right. I won’t do anything to you. But I will find Lusha and take the star from her before the emperor can use it.”

My anger boiled. “So you can use it against us?”

“So I can destroy it, if I can. I’ve had enough of this. No one should have the kind of power you speak of. Not the emperor, not Esha. Not you. If you don’t see that, you’re no better than him.”

I reeled. “I—”