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“She was a slave soldier who escaped and then returned to kill Selim. You are lucky the empire believes she worked only with Lukas Darekul and was not part of a Plumian plot.”

Xan considers this a moment. A Plumian was part of the assassination of an Azurian Emperor. He had not known it until he arrived in Attar, gathering information from some Plumians in a city tavern before he entered the Rose Palace. And he was glad he did. That alone would have been a good reason to take him prisoner as soon as he set foot in Attar. Longwise had told him to reconsider, to get back on The Mother of Men and leave. And perhaps he would have, if he hadn’t discovered exactly who that Plumian woman was.

Atticul could have used Trysta’s involvement in the assassination to justify a fresh and vicious attack on the Plumian enclave on the isle of Pluma. Or a mass execution of every Plumian he could find. But he did not do any of these things. He has even offered to free Trysta and liberate Pluma. And all, seemingly, because he wants to smear this priest, who he knows desires him because the silly priest tells all to his confessor.

It reminds him that he still has no answer to the question of who Jemel is and what his importance to Atticul could possibly be.

But he says none of this, answering, “My sister had every reason to want your emperor dead in her own right. She was not working for Pluma.”

“A good thing too or there would be no peace treaty,” the priest answers lightly. “But you will not embroil me in your treasonous schemes to free Trysta and Lukas.”

“Oh,” says Xan, realisation dawning. For a moment he forgot about the other one. The traitor prince, Lukas Darekul. “I would like to meet this Prince Lukas.”

“I would too,” says Jemel.

Xan looks at Jemel. For a moment his expression was vexed. As if he spoke out of turn. “So you have a prisoner of interest in the Rose Palace too?”

“Hardly. He is simply well-known,” says the priest, voice echoey in the passageway. “You, however, are making it quite transparent why you wanted to accompany me down here.”

Xan did not think he could be even more infuriated with this creature. And yet, this blithe comment only riles him further. “And so, will you show me the route to the dungeons?”

“There is no route to the dungeons. None that are safe. Not since Damon Darekul rescued his lover from there. The dungeons are far more tightly guarded. It is not even well known that such a thing happened.”

“But you know about it.”

“I was there. I helped them. But before you think that means I can help you, I cannot. That route is not possible. It has long been sealed up.”

Xan says nothing, thinking to himself that if this man won’t help him, perhaps he ought to take Atticul’s bargain after all. And this Hare would only have himself to blame.

They turn more corners, follow more passageways, take staircases of iron and stone down and down. Jemel walks ahead of Xan, the light from his swinging oil lamp reveals one passage that is lined with columns of carved black stone with veins of pale pink arcing up to criss-cross the ceiling. They are ancient and crumbling but were perhaps once quite beautiful and grand.

Jemel reaches the end of this passageway and a large gate of elaborate ironwork. He produces another key from his set and opens the gate. It swings wide, silently.

Jemel steps through the gate and Xan follows. He is stunned to see what lies beyond.

The enormous domed chamber has a high ceiling of stone. There is no sun in this garden. The only light is from the lamp the priest holds. Xan knows nothing can grow in the dark but mushrooms and mould, but this garden is full of lush greenery.

He is standing in a garden beneath the earth? A treasure more wonderful than any of the gilt halls of the Rose Palace. Azuria has such grand secrets. There are tales of caverns like this on Voluptue, but only the isle’s priestesses are allowed to visit them and many think the existence of such mere tales. “How can this be?” Xan says, his voice softly reverent.

“These caverns and tunnels beneath the Rose Palace are a world unto themselves. But I admit, this is one of the strangest sights. Pershel loved this place. She told me that before the Rose Palace this was the Hevelikar’s Rose Temple it was a fae palace, gifted to the Five Fae Princes for defeating the Bellator. Eventually the Hevelikar declared it the Rose Temple, long after the fae were gone, and dedicated it to the Artemian faith and the worship of the Sidu. And later yet, Sarelik Darek rased it and built the palace, but all of this remains. It’s ancient. We are all of us living on top of histories we barely understand.”

Xan wonders if Jemel believes this true? Shouldn’t he find it heresy? Could it be that his loyalty to Zai isn’t as unshakeable as he claims? “And so, because of magic, plants can live here without the sun’s rays?”

“I suppose. I truly do not know.”

“What would your God think of that?”

Jemel makes a soft amused sound. “I suppose the scholars would say it is Zai’s will, but these gardens were here long before Zai was ever dreamt of.”

“Before Zai was dreamt of? Is that not heresy? Is Zai not eternal?”

“No. It is the simple truth. Zai came to Sarelik Darek in a dream when he slept in the Amber Forest and charged him to mount the Sarelik revolution, oust the Hevelikar and build an empire in his name.”

Xan nods. He does not care for any such talk that justifies the cruelty of the empire. “And this is the garden the servant spoke of?” he says, voice colder.

“I believe so. The letter said the garden. This would be the garden Pershel would refer to in such a way.

Xan looks at the vast space. He cannot see the full size of it. It vanishes into the dark. “But if Embel hid the dagger here, how will we find it?”