Page 160 of A Crown of Lies

“The Shikami are a weapon. Wield them yourself.”

“I want no part of that,” he replied and slashed at her.

She dodged to the side and brought her sword down at an unexpected angle. Aryn’s eyes flared wide as he realized the angle was too awkward to counter without moving and putting himself closer to the chasm, exactly where he did not wish to go. His flash of hesitation was all she needed to land her blow.

She pulled back at the last second, hitting his elbow with the dull spine of the sword instead. Numbness spread up his arm and he lost his grip. His sword clattered to the metal walkway, and he froze, the point of her blade at his throat.

“Then help me do it.” Emmanthe’s voice was neither demanding nor pleading.

Aryn swallowed. “How?”

Emmanthe slowly lowered the sword. “Elmon Redrock hired only a small group of Shikami to do this. After Omashii-Kuno’s death, they became fractured. Leaderless. All they need is a strong hand to guide them. Someone they will follow.”

“And you think they will follow you?”

“I will make them follow me,” she said, sheathing her sword. She held up her hand. “Give me twenty minutes. If I succeed, I will send a signal up and you can come collect Saya. If I fail, the task will fall to you.”

Aryn studied her carefully. Despite her age, Emmanthe was clearly still skilled and strong enough to best him, but could she win against dozens of Shikami? It wasn’t like they would just let her walk in and sit on Omashii-Kuno’s throne without a fight. But if she believed she could do it, why shouldn’t he let her try?

“Why?” he demanded. “You’re risking your life so that I don’t have to. Why would you do that? I’m no one to you. Nothing.”

Emmanthe’s expression softened. Her chin trembled only slightly as she lifted her head. “Because you are his son, and I loved him. Despite all Taratheil’s flaws, his mistakes, his terrible choices, I loved him. It is not your fault he chose never to acknowledge you. But you and Ruith are all that remain of him. I would see you free of this place, of the hold our pasts have on us. I want you to live free, Aryn. In peace.”

Aryn’s throat tightened with some unnamed emotion. He swallowed it and nodded. “Twenty minutes. Not a moment more.”

She nodded, turned, and ran silently down into the stone city.

Aryn sighed and looked around.Nothing to do but wait now, I guess, he thought and sat down in the space Emmanthe had vacated, his legs dangling over the hungry endless black.

Forty-Nine

AssoonasIeduinand Rowan rode into the deepest part of the Wytchwood, they abandoned the horse. Ieduin pushed an exhausted Rowan toward one of the wych elms. “Climb as high as you can and stay silent until I give the signal.”

Ieduin practically ran up the split trunk of the closest wych elm. He swung to another branch and ran along it until he reached another, which connected him to a second tree.

There, Peter waited with his brother, Gregory. The two of them were young and had already seen a lot. Peter’s jaw was set, his eyes cold as he stared at the edge of the wood, watching. Waiting.

In the few weeks Ieduin had been at Greymark, he’d picked up a little signing. Not much, but enough to do some basic communicating with the mage. Tofi had learned Peter’s signs with amazing efficiency, which allowed the three of them to communicate mostly through signing, with Gregory translating whatever Ieduin missed.

Peter passed Ieduin two quivers, including the one with his bone dust arrows.

“Everything ready?” Ieduin signed.

Peter shrugged and signed back. “So-so. Pits dug. Trip wires active. Some spells won’t work, but if they come in here, they’re…”

Ieduin shook his head, signing, “I don’t know this one.” He repeated the sign he didn’t know.

Peter waved a hand and demonstrated slower.

Ieduin grinned. “They’re fucked. I get it.”

Peter waved to get Tofi’s attention. “If I die and come back, will I still have powers?”

“No,” Tofi signed back. “There is a way, but it’s complicated. You would have to be a…” He made the sign for undead before adding another.

Ieduin didn’t even want to think about what that word meant.

“Just make sure I kill as many as possible,” Peter signed.