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“Go and plant each one in the ground. Forsaith will once more grow the food for the continent.”

Forty

Of course that was not the end of it. After watching the animals plant the fruits and grains, the people of Forsaith came. Asahi and Sagam were tense, and the threat of Asahi’s mask alone was enough to keep all who came at a distance. But their worry that the people would be criminals seemed ill-founded.

Those who arrived were old men and women who had once worked the land and refused now to give up on it, even when all of the blood and sweat they had poured into Forsaith came to nothing more than ash.

They wanted to know what the price was for the fertile land, what the Imperium would charge to fix what they had poisoned. When Tallu said it cost nothing, when Tallu promised shipments of food until they were able to sustain themselves, when he offered it for nothing in return, they were wary, unwilling to trust.

“Trust is not something I can demand in exchange, but I can make a promise and keep it. Under my rule, the Imperium will not invade nor demand further land from Forsaith. We will not ask for payments and should you never trust us again, we will know it is only because we have given you no reason to.” Tallu spoke so assuredly that I was sure the people would believe him, and felt a pang when they were so obviously distrustful.

They asked if Naî was the one who had saved the land, if the dragons had returned and I hesitated, unsure if I should claim my powers when we hadn’t even told our allies about them. Naî preened at the attention, and I had the feeling that she would have been happy to claim the great working. But Tallu explained that the animalia had returned and their magic with them.

We gave most of our food to the people of Forsaith, but when we stopped for another night of camping, I reached into our pack and drew out more food. I could feel the pain of it in a way I hadn’t earlier.

Earlier when I had been doing great magic, I hadn’t felt the power needed, but when I was doing the same on a smaller scale, it ached in my chest, hurting my bones, pulling at my stomach, weighing down my soul.

The power of the ocean was endless, but that did not mean it cost nothing.

Naî curled around our camp, leaving her body massive, a wall to protect us from the rest of the world. I leaned back against her, the scales cooling my skin and the tufts of feathers tickling my cheek. She rumbled against my body, something nearly like a purr.

“Tallu,” I said, watching as Asahi built a fire and Sagam stood sentry.

He picked his way across the campsite and then sat next to me, the solid weight of his body reassuring. I leaned against him, feeling as though my exhaustion mounted when the sun set. We had eaten enough, we had satisfied our hunger, and now I was paying over and over for the work I had done in Forsaith.

“We need to tell them,” I said. “And we need to tell Saxu and Koque.”

“What you are?” Tallu asked.

“And what our plans are. We can no longer hide it.” I considered Saxu’s face when he had confronted Tallu about the goblins, about how Tallu had already promised to not invade Tavornai and the Ariphadeus. The Imperium could no longer stretch the length and breadth of the continent unless Tallu was going to break his own word.

Perhaps Saxu assumed that was Tallu’s plan, but the general was too smart to miss the other clues Tallu had left. He was able to read his enemies in the middle of battle, turn the chaos of clashing armies into a strategy that made sense.

Would it be that much harder for him to understand Tallu?

Tallu’s mind seemed to have traveled the same lines as my own. “Saxu may act against us. He may choose to become the last of the rebelling generals.”

“It is a greater risk to leave him in the dark,” I said. “Where he might make his own assumptions about your plans.”

“Do you think he will move against us?” Tallu asked.

I remembered the expression on General Saxu’s face. He was High General of the Southern Imperium, and we were threatening to give up his life’s work for no benefit he could see. We would upend the promise that he had based his life on achieving, and were shattering the foundation that the Imperium had been built on.

“Yes,” I said. “And we must deal with him before there can be peace.”

Tallu’s fingers tightened on mine, his skin dry from flying over the Imperium. Then he called over Asahi and Sagam. He looked at the two of them, and I saw his resolve firm, raising his chin so that his eyes looked narrowed.

“The Imperium will no longer spend any resources conquering,” he said. “We have wasted enough blood and men. Under my reign, we will make peace with the other nations.”

Sagam and Asahi did not look at each other, but I could feel the communication passing between them. They had been lovers longer than I had even known Tallu, they had been children together and knew each other better than the sky knew the stars.

“What of the promise?” Sagam asked.

“A lie. My great-grandfather only told half of it. The true promise is that the line of House Atobe will unite the continent and be free of the curse that plagues us,” Tallu said.

Neither Dog asked about the curse. They had both been close enough to him to smell the blood on his breath, to see when his weakness took him.

“And how do you plan to unite the continent if no armies march on the last of the free nations?” Sagam frowned, his eyes fixed on Tallu’s face, even though I could see the lines between his brows as he considered all of the potential outcomes.