Page 36 of Heir

And Aiz swore on the Mother that if she survived, she would destroy them all.

She turned a sharp corner. Blessed light poured into the tunnel. Aiz sobbed, knees bleeding, and burst out of the cave into a raging storm, the wind howling around her like a thing possessed.

Perhaps she should have been afraid of the cold or starvation. Of death. But a figure emerged from the darkness, catching her as she fell,and she smiled when she saw green eyes burning into hers, brown hair swirling about his face.

“Did you hear her, Cero? Did she visit you, too?”

Cero shook his head and pulled off his cloak, the same gray as the rocks around them, and tucked it in about her shoulders. “Come, Aiz. We must hurry—we’re dead if we don’t get to shelter.”

“There is beauty in the dark.” Aiz reached up and touched Cero’s face. “And strength. But not death. Not yet.”

11

Quil

The explosion at Navium’s docks was so massive, the plume of smoke and flame shooting so high, that Quil struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. His mind cycled through the possibilities—fire in the lumberyard; explosion on a Sadhese oil ship; experiment gone wrong.

Then the shock wave hit, knocking him and the Empress to their backs, and he knew in an instant that it was none of those things. That his old life had been a castle made of sand and sticks on a shoreline, and the explosion was a wave crushing it with unfeeling finality.

The Empire was under attack.

He crawled toward the Empress, who lay crumpled against the wall of the palace. She was still and panic gripped him.

“Aunt Helene!” He knelt beside her, shaking her shoulder. “Empress!”

She couldn’t be dead. The last thing he did was pick a bleeding fight with her. Why the hells hadn’t he taken a second to think? Why—

His magic surged and screamed for release, incited into a frenzy by his own panic. It felt as if a part of his mind was completely out of control.Take her thoughts, his magic urged.Her memories. It is the last chance for you to hold on to any part of her.

His aunt’s voice brought him back and the magic faded.

“Qu-Quil—” She opened her eyes. Her voice was thick, slurred, but she was alive, and Quil would have hugged her if she wasn’t clawing his arm, trying to stand.

“Thank the bleeding, burning skies, Aunt Hel.”

The balcony door burst open, and Musa, his fine tunic covered indust, staggered out. Arelia and Sufiyan followed close behind, halting at the sight of the immense fireball.

“The—the docks,” Arelia said. “Must have been a munitions explosion.”

“Munitions?” Musa stared at the plume of fire. “You mean firepowder? Firepowder wouldn’t—”

BOOM.

The next explosion, from the cothon where the military ships were moored, knocked all of them to the ground. Screams erupted from the ballroom, and Aunt Hel’s guards emerged, scims drawn. Foremost among them was Rallius, a Mask who’d been captain of her personal troops for nearly twenty years.

“Empress.” His gaze raked the gardens behind her, looking for threats. “We must get you to the safe room.”

“Send units to every drum tower,” Aunt Hel said. “Our heads should be aching with their thundering by now. I want to know what happened to our drummers. Get a message to my Blood Shrike,” she said. “She’s to remain—”

“The Shrike will know better than to come here,” Rallius said. “The Gens leaders are already gathering in the safe room.”

“Musa.” The Empress turned to the tall Mariner. “Get me answers. Whatever you can.”

Musa nodded and disappeared over the balcony and into the garden below. Aunt Helene didn’t spare him a glance, nor her nephew, nor the city burning behind her. She pushed past Rallius into the ballroom.

“Come.” Rallius gestured Quil, Sufiyan, and Arelia inside. “Quickly.”

“We should go down to the city,” Quil said to Sufiyan over the pandemonium of the ballroom. “To the docks. People might be injured. They’ll need help.”

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