Page 131 of The Priory of the Orange Tree

Onren raised her eyebrows. “Indeed,” she said. “I will be sure to confirm that with him when he returns.”

The soldiers said nothing. Casting them a stern look, Onren took Tané aside.

“You must not worry,” she said quietly. “It will be some trivial matter. I’ve heard the honored Governor likes to make her authority known even to Clan Miduchi.” She paused. “Tané, you look unwell.”

Tané swallowed.

“If I am not back within the hour,” she said, “will you send word to the great Nayimathun?”

“Of course.” Onren smiled. “Whatever it is will soon be resolved. See you tomorrow.”

Tané nodded and tried to smile back. Onren watched as she climbed into the palanquin, as it left the castle grounds.

She was a dragonrider. There was nothing to fear.

The soldiers carried her through the streets, past the evening market, and under the season trees. Laughter rolled from crowded taverns. It was only when they passed the Imperial Theatre that Tané realized they were not going to White River Castle, where the honored Governor of Ginura lived. They were heading into the southern outskirts of the city.

Fear clenched her chest. She reached for the door of the palanquin, but it was bolted from the outside.

“This is not the right way,” she called. “Where are you taking me?”

No answer.

“I am a Miduchi. I am the rider of the great Nayimathun of the Deep Snows.” Her voice cracked. “How dare you treat me in this way.”

All she heard was footsteps.

When the palanquin finally stopped, and she saw where they were, her stomach dropped. The door unlocked and slid open. “Honored Miduchi,” one of the soldiers said, “please follow me.”

“You dare,” Tané whispered. “Youdarebring me to such a place.”

A rotten smell curdled in her nostrils, sharpening her fear. She had squandered her opportunity to run. Even a dragonrider could not fight all the sentinels here, not without a sword, and in any case, there was nowhere to go. She got down from the palanquin and walked, chin raised, side throbbing with every step, hands clenched.

They could not have brought her here to kill her. Not without a trial. Not without Nayimathun. She was god-chosen, protected, safe.

As the soldiers led her toward Ginura Jailhouse, the hum of insects snatched her gaze upward. Three flyblown heads, bloated with decay, watched the street from the gate above.

Tané stared at the freshest of them. The thatch of hair, taut with blood, the tongue puffy in death. His features had already slackened, but she recognized him. Sulyard. She tried to keep her grip on her composure, but her spine tightened and her stomach churned and her mouth turned dry as salt.

She had heard that far away in Inys, where the water ghost had come from, people gathered in public to witness executions. Not so in Seiiki. Most of the city was unaware that in the grounds of the jailhouse, a young woman of seventeen was on her knees by a ditch, her arms roped behind her back, waiting for the end. Her long hair had been shaved away.

The soldiers marched Tané toward the prisoner and held her in place. An official was speaking, but she could not hear through the swash of blood in her ears. The woman had looked up at the sound of footsteps, and Tané wished she had not, for she knew her.

“No,” Tané said, voice cracking. “No. I order you to stop this!”

Susa stared back at her. Hope had rushed into her eyes, but now grief quenched it.

“I am god-chosen,” Tané screamed at the executioner. “She is under my protection. The great Nayimathun will bring the sky down on your heads for this!” He might as well have been made of stone. “It was not her. It was me. It ismyfault, my crime—”

Susa shook her head, lips quivering. Rain beaded on her lashes.

“Tané,” she said thickly, “look away.”

“Susa—”

Sobs clotted in her throat.It was a mistake. Stop this.Fingertips bit into her arms as she struggled, all her self-possession gone, more and more hands grasping her.Stop this.All she could see was Susa as a child, crowned with snowflakes, and her smile when Tané had taken her hand.

The executioner raised his sword. When the head rolled into the ditch, Tané slid to her knees.

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