Page 128 of A Dance of Shadows

My pulse thumps faster all the same. Is it not that Elox wants me to hold back my efforts completely, but that I should focus on cutting through the outer layers of… something, to what liesbeneath? Does he mean severing falsehoods to get at the truth? Removing a barrier so those shrouded in it can go free?

I aim a look of appeal at Elox’s statue, but no further impressions come to me. He’s leaving it to me to decipher his message.

Perhaps he’s telling me that there’s more than one approach that would suit him, and I need to decide which meaning best suits me.

The only thing I’m sure of is that he still wants me to be careful. To take my time and be sure of where I apply my blade, literal or otherwise.

As I push to my feet, the weight of my belly drags on my posture more than usual. Or maybe there’s a different sort of weight in my gut. Doubt condenses into a knot inside me.

The dagger I took from Neven is still tucked in my cloak. When my knuckles brush against the lump through the fabric, so much larger than my own little knife, I see his anger-flushed face as he yelled at me all those days ago. Accusing me of standing by, doing nothing of importance while Marclinus rampages across the continent.

I’m not sure he wasn’t a little bit right, and that fact is going to gnaw at me as long as my husband lives.

I gather my resolve and stride to the temple doors. My guards fall into step behind me in their usual inobtrusive way.

When I step out into the courtyard, intending to get right back into the carriage, a reddish glow glimmers at the edge of my vision.

I pause, glancing over. I glimpse only a brief gleam of red before the spark vanishes down a narrower road across the street.

While I stare after it, the impression of a tug forms in my chest. As if some invisible force is drawing me toward the spot where the light vanished.

A glow like that led me to the tree where I’m sure the Sabrelle-blessed armband is hidden. Does Elox have more to show me after all?

I set off across the courtyard with my leather slippers tapping against the cobblestones. With my authority as empress, my guards don’t challenge my decision, simply follow me to wherever my apparent whim takes me now.

When I reach the street, a glance down it doesn’t reveal any more supernatural light. But the tug comes again, urging me onward.

It isn’t as if I have any reasonnotto find out what it means.

I walk along a strip of small houses interspersed with workshops and stores. After I’ve passed several of those, I come upon an even narrower alley between two of the buildings.

The inexplicable tug pulls me that way. I glance around to make sure no one’s nearby to protest and then slip down the alleyway.

My unseen guide leads me to a set of stairs carved into the back of a building. I follow the tug up the steps to a rooftop bordered by a low stone wall.

Voices carry from a yard on the other side of the building. Their furtive tone suggests they’re speaking of something they’d rather not have overheard.

My heart thumps faster. I ease across the roof and crouch near the wall so I can make out their words. My Goric isn’t perfect, but since Accasy does a little trade with them, I’m much closer to fluent than I am in Rionian or Lavirian.

“…sure it can’t wait?” one of the men is saying. “The Darium idiots are crawling all over the city now.”

“They have nothing to do with the shipments,” the other replies, sounding a little exasperated. “The contracts have been in place for decades. We’re following our standard agreement.The fancy nobles won’t pay attention unless we do something strange likedon’tsend the order.”

“I just don’t like it. If they compare the materials to what our own supply looks like…”

The second man sighs. “We’ve been sending the discards to Dariu for ages. That’s all they know. They think they’re getting the best we have. And why should we send them the good quality stuff? They barely pay what it cost to get it out of the mountains.”

“But if they see it while they’re here, they might realize now.”

“They’re not going to look. Their heads are too far in the clouds. I’d bet they’ve had buildings made out of Gorician marble fall on their heads plenty of times without ever imagining the problem was with the blocks it was made of. They just throw around a little more gold and forget about it.”

The first man lets out a huff. “If you’re sure. I’m not taking the blame for it.”

“Every merchant in the country knows the game. They’ve never caught on before, and they won’t now just because they’re prancing around their palace here for a few weeks. Now go see that the order is getting loaded up.”

As they hustle off with a scrape of their boots across the ground, I sink down on the rooftop. My mind whirls with the secrets I just learned.

Merchants from all across the country are sending inferior supplies to Dariu—and have been for decades if not centuries?

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