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Jemel does. His hand is small and thin, his wrist narrow, but his grip is firm. Jemel’s hand brings Xan to his peak quickly, their mouths plastered together.

When it is done, they lie together on the bed. Both half-dressed and curled into each other’s bodies.

Softly, Xan says, “You said you would trust me again if I brought your box. I have to tell you. I have your blade, but I did not bring your box.”

Jemel sits up. “You did not,” he sounds a little annoyed, but then says, “I do not need it now.” He sniffs. “Doroth killed Pershel. Because of what she knew of Ur-Durik. She read something of the writing on Lyr. Something she felt she needed to tell him. And he killed her so that it would not be known. I do not know what it was. It must be in my notes somewhere. I have been studying them. But I have found nothing. I must return to my work.”

“Before you do that. Do you not want to know why I did not bring the box?”

Jemel frowns. “Why?”

“Because I brought something else.”

45

INEZ

Inez waits in a corner and watches Ferra tending to Damon. She rubs her hands over and over each other. The battle rages outside and she knows what it means if they lose. Atticul will take Urynwud, will take her back. Does it make any difference that she now knows him to be a demon? She is not sure that it does.

It is only the two of them left waiting on Damon. Lyr, pale faced and shaking slightly, had been led away from Damon's bedside to aid Kerik in the battle with his magical power.

As he stumbled from the room Inez had grasped his hands. “I will tend to him,” she said, looking into Lyr’s pretty eyes. “I will take care of him as well as anyone, I swear it, even you.” She leaned in and kissed Lyr’s bloodless cheek.

As the day wore on, Damon grew stronger. He sits up in bed although Inez bids him not to, but when he tries to rise, he cannot, still too fevered from his wound.

“I have never taken such a wound in any battle”, he says, voice thin.

Ferra reapplies the poultice made by Harok’s physician. Damon winces as it stings. Pages come throughout the day with news of the battle, but it seems unclear. The battle is in forest, notoriously difficult and chaotic, full of ambushes and counter ambushes and melee fighting.

It is almost noontide when the news turns joyous, Xan’s battalion of Plumian warriors have arrived and joined their side, and shortly afterwards another page announces that much of the Imperial Army have followed, rallying to ‘Emperor Damon’.

But the third page who comes in the quick succession has graver news. The Imperial troops have fallen back, beaten. Urynwud is safe, but Atticul is gone, having never come to the forefront of the fighting.

He is beyond their grasp in the Azurian encampment, several miles to the south.

Damon is enraged to hear this. Groaning out that he should have been there it would have been his personal mission to take Atticul.

Various of Damon’s brothers and others drip back into the room in groups. Lyr first, flinging himself on Damon, clearly weakened from the battle.

Harok comes with Tobi, now returned to his usual appearance, who lays the Amber Blade back on Damon’s bed beside him. Harok says something and Tobi explains that he is planning to provide another great feast for all who fought this day, to mark the victory, Atticul does not have access to the vault. He is thwarted.

But Inez can see from Damon’s face that he does not agree. Perhaps he thinks that Atticul will not take long making a new plan. Or perhaps he simply cannot rest until he knows Atticul is dead. Not the demon inside him. Atticul himself.

That is the moment when Inez leaves them, slipping unnoticed from the room, she climbs a small twisting staircase and emerges, pink-cheeked, onto the windy roof of Urynwud.

The roof is covered, like every part of the strange fortress, in leaves and vines, trailing and twisting, dense and thick as if these plants are what hold the fortress together in place of any man-made mortar or frame.

Waiting for her on the roof are Kerik and Perl.

Kerik winks at her, “My Lady Empress,” he says, with a bow.

Perl looks more nervous. “You are sure of this?” he says.

Inez wonders if she is. She evades the question. “He will want me back. I am, indeed, his Empress.”

“Then come.” Perl reaches out a hand. Inez takes it and Perl leads her to the edge of the roof. “We saved a little magic for this.”

Inez looks down. She regrets that she did so. She can see the forest, endless, magnificent trees. There are signs of the battle, churned earth, smoking fires, trampled bushes, bodies and blood, but the forest seems to have swallowed much of what has happened this day, enduring.