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Inez nods. “You have no other plan? If this fails?”

Perl says, “What other plan could there be?”

40

JEMEL

Jemel watches his brothers discussing the coming battle. Until eventually they all drift away. Lyr leaves with Yaelin, Tobi and Harok, Kerik and Perl for their bed. Lukas and Elric return to the dancing.

Damon looks at him. He says, “I know there is some tension between you and Trysta’s brother. If he returns as he has promised, do you want to see him?”

Jemel does not know what to say. “He is bringing my blade, and other things from the Rose Palace. I will see him.”

“Very well,” says Damon. He looks as if he wants to ask something more although he does not. Instead he says, “I need to speak to Inga and some of the others. And then I will be with Lyr, but please remember, I am your brother. We are all of us brothers. If you need to speak with any of us⁠—”

Damon pauses and Jemel feels his lip start to tremble. He isn’t sure how to begin with any of this.

Damon takes a breath and continues. “In time,” he says. “I know how it can be in the Rose Palace. Lukas and Tobi both escaped that world. Kerik was protected by his mother’s noble birth, but you and I, we had to find a way to survive. The Imperial Army, the Acolytes of Zai. Not easy places for sly men.”

Jemel nods. He cannot speak. He is not used to having his emotions laid so raw by a simple conversation. He wishes he had his veil. If he did, he would be safe behind it. He could dismiss Damon’s probing with a caustic comment. Without the veil he is naked, emotions dancing across his face for all to see. “I will return shortly,” Damon says and leaves.

Jemel is left alone with his thoughts.

He is here amongst his family, but he still feels as alone as he ever has. Each of his brothers is here with a lover. Each had found their love fighting Ur-Durik. But he has not.

Unlike his brothers he has no lover and no sacred blade. Does that mean he is going to fail them? To be the reason the battle is lost?

Ur-Durik will take this fortress with the Azurian army and open that vault full of ancient demons that sits out in the sacred grove behind Urynwud. Jemel wonders to himself why Ur-Durik did not open the vault sooner. When he was in Urynwud, possessing its king, Irgo Harok. There must be a reason. Perhaps, he surmises, it is an issue of power. Possessing Selim, possessing Atticul was about gaining power. Creating the Azurian Empire was about power. Opening that vault must take a huge amount of power.

And now he has it.

How can Jemel possibly succeed in his part in this battle when he did not even manage to finish his small, self-appointed mission to discover who killed Pershel the Moon Truth? He wishes he had his linden chest. Perhaps if he could study his papers again he could deduce the answer.

Jemel looks up and sees someone winding through the tables and merriment towards him. It is Doroth, looking as misplaced as a man could be, perhaps more misplaced than Jemel himself.

He comes close and leans over the table, bowing to Jemel. “Forgive me for not speaking with you sooner,” he says in his low, familiar voice.

Jemel knows Doroth has been almost as slow and still as he had himself on this journey north. But Doroth had good reason. He saw his brother die in the temple. And before that, saw him sitting broken on the dais. He must know Vindar was tortured. He looks up at Doroth, tall over him, his face looks drawn and grey.

Of everyone here, Doroth is the only one who could understand. Doroth is so like him. Doroth also devoted his life to Zai, only to discover Zai was a demon. Perhaps Doroth can help him find peace in that. “It is good to see you,” Jemel says. “My blessings on your brother’s soul. Please, sit with me.”

Doroth walks around the table and folds himself into an empty seat beside Jemel. “You have done well,” he says in a tone that Jemel finds distinctly comforting. “You are truly the Scholar.”

“Do you believe that is my only role in this? To read the words on Lyr’s body?”

“No, it certainly is not. Others could have done that. Another who spoke Ur-Ambolk.”

“Like, Pershel,” Jemel says softly. “I learned Ur-Ambolk from her.”

“Ah, yes,” Doroth says, smiling fondly. “Pershel. Zai, hold her soul.”

Jemel looks at Doroth. He was there, he was The High Word when she died. The letter from Embel was in his possessions. Perhaps he had the same suspicions and Jemel has simply been continuing his investigation. Even if the reason behind Pershel’s death is of little consequence now when, on the morrow, they may all die on Imperial swords. If he wants to find out the truth, this night may be his only chance and who can he ask but Doroth?

“I found her letter,” Jemel says, “in your linden box. Using it I found her servant girl hiding in the magical gardens beneath the palace.”

“Embel’s letter?” Doroth frowns. “You found her? You knew of the garden she meant?”

Jemel nods, keen to show his deduction to Doroth. “The gardens of the fae beneath the palace. Pershel loved them. She called them her gardens.”