Page 24

The creature seemed unbothered when a half dozen elfin children launched themselves out of the trees, using their tendrils to climb down safely. They ran toward the creature, laughing still. When they reached us, they ran their hands over his face, uncaring about the sharp teeth and spines.

“What’s this, Guardian?” one asked, finding the hilt of my sword still buried in his back.

The monster made a roaring sound, his voice without words, and I realized he couldn’t speak to the children, not like he could with me.

“Did they find us?” The girl drew back, wrapping her arms across her chest and hunching her shoulders, looking deeply afraid. “They found us, didn’t they?”

“No,” I said. Naî shifted on my shoulders, pushing off and up into the trees, exploring the village on her own. “It was a misunderstanding. I had yet to meet your friend, and I made the mistake of attacking him.”

“Then you’re lucky to be alive,” said Lady Chaliko. She stood among the treehouses, her smile tense as she looked down on us. “The Guardian isn’t one who lets imperials live easily.”

I wondered how close she had come to death before the children had convinced the Guardian she was their protector instead of their jailer.

The children called out more questions, but I looked around the camp, searching for the one face I was sure should be there.

“Where is Riini?” I asked.

Lady Chaliko sighed, the exhalation moving her hair off her forehead. This deep in the forest, everything felt humid, and I could see the sheen of sweat on her face, even though it didn’t look as though she had been doing any sort of labor.

“Come up,” she called. “We should talk.”

One of the children ran forward, knocking gently on the tree and it, obligingly, sprouted a set of stairs. After another bowed toward the monster—the Guardian—we climbed up. Lady Chaliko met us at the top, her eyes fixed on Tallu.

Despite weeks of familiarity, it seemed she could never quite shake the nervousness she felt at being so close to the emperor. Finally, she looked away and opened the door to one of the nearby houses. It was one of the few that seemed built for an adult.

When she opened it, I stepped through and paused just a moment when I saw who was inside. Empress Koque had been sitting near the window but gracefully rose to stand when we entered.

“I thought you’d escaped to Krustau,” I said to Empress Koque. When I heard she’d slipped away days before the attack, I had assumed that was the only place she would go.

“Prince Hallu enjoys spending time with the other children. It does not interfere with his studies to have a few moments of play during his day. After Kacha’s attack, I am grateful we were here rather than at camp.” Empress Koque bowed low, acknowledging Tallu. She gestured for us to sit in the chairs that circled a low table.

“We are grateful as well,” Tallu said, gesturing for her to stand. “It was fortuitous.”

There was the slightest tone of question in his voice, and I found myself wondering as well. The children’s camp was far from the military one by design. Tallu and I had both agreed that even if General Kacha had found the military camp, he should not be able to find the children.

It would have taken Empress Koque nearly a day’s travel to reach it, conveniently leaving her out of reach of General Kacha when he attacked. Which meant there was always the possibility that it hadn’t been an accident. That Koque, with all of her political knowledge, had given our position away to General Kacha and assumed that he would kill all of us.

“Not fortuitous,” Koque said. “We are here with the Bemishu twins. Sagam asked them to keep an eye on his sisters and see if any of the younger children would make good Dogs. He said something about the spy network and needing fresh informants.”

“And Hallu’s illness?” I asked, keeping my question vague.

“He’s doing well. Lady Chaliko has been generous with her knowledge of local herbs.” Empress Koque nodded her head at Lady Chaliko, acknowledging the gift of her acquired wisdom.

“Many of the plants and minerals that we use for our paints and powders have other uses when imbibed or prepared differently.” Lady Chaliko crossed the room to touch a small orchid growing out of the wall. The treehouse had been built into the tree itself, and the orchid grew in a hole in the tree’s trunk. “The flowers of this plant, when dried and cooked in a high fire, turn into this powder.”

Returning, she sat and reached for a small tin on the table, opening it to reveal makeup. When she handed it to me, I touched my fingertip inside, rubbing it between finger and thumb.

It was more iridescent than other powders I had seen in the Imperium. It seemed to shift between white and pale gold depending on the angle of light. I moved my finger side to side, watching the change.

“Incredible,” I said.

“But if the leaves and roots are ground into a paste and pressed against an open wound, the wound will heal in a day or two at the most.” She offered over her hand, and I put the small tin back on her palm.

“This is not knowledge you had at House Chaliko,” I said.

She shook her head. “The children are learning from the elder trees.”

But her forehead creased, her knuckles going white on the tin.