Chapter 11

11

Quil

The explosion at Navium's docks was so massive, the plume of smoke and flame shooting so high, that Quil struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. His mind cycled through the possibilities—fire in the lumberyard; explosion on a Sadhese oil ship; experiment gone wrong.

Then the shock wave hit, knocking him and the Empress to their backs, and he knew in an instant that it was none of those things. That his old life had been a castle made of sand and sticks on a shoreline, and the explosion was a wave crushing it with unfeeling finality.

The Empire was under attack.

He crawled toward the Empress, who lay crumpled against the wall of the palace. She was still and panic gripped him.

"Aunt Helene!" He knelt beside her, shaking her shoulder. "Empress!"

She couldn't be dead. The last thing he did was pick a bleeding fight with her. Why the hells hadn't he taken a second to think? Why—

His magic surged and screamed for release, incited into a frenzy by his own panic. It felt as if a part of his mind was completely out of control. Take her thoughts , his magic urged. Her memories. It is the last chance for you to hold on to any part of her.

His aunt's voice brought him back and the magic faded.

"Qu-Quil—" She opened her eyes. Her voice was thick, slurred, but she was alive, and Quil would have hugged her if she wasn't clawing his arm, trying to stand.

"Thank the bleeding, burning skies, Aunt Hel."

The balcony door burst open, and Musa, his fine tunic covered in dust, staggered out. Arelia and Sufiyan followed close behind, halting at the sight of the immense fireball.

"The—the docks," Arelia said. "Must have been a munitions explosion."

"Munitions?" Musa stared at the plume of fire. "You mean firepowder? Firepowder wouldn't—"

BOOM.

The next explosion, from the cothon where the military ships were moored, knocked all of them to the ground. Screams erupted from the ballroom, and Aunt Hel's guards emerged, scims drawn. Foremost among them was Rallius, a Mask who'd been captain of her personal troops for nearly twenty years.

"Empress." His gaze raked the gardens behind her, looking for threats. "We must get you to the safe room."

"Send units to every drum tower," Aunt Hel said. "Our heads should be aching with their thundering by now. I want to know what happened to our drummers. Get a message to my Blood Shrike," she said. "She's to remain—"

"The Shrike will know better than to come here," Rallius said. "The Gens leaders are already gathering in the safe room."

"Musa." The Empress turned to the tall Mariner. "Get me answers. Whatever you can."

Musa nodded and disappeared over the balcony and into the garden below. Aunt Helene didn't spare him a glance, nor her nephew, nor the city burning behind her. She pushed past Rallius into the ballroom.

"Come." Rallius gestured Quil, Sufiyan, and Arelia inside. "Quickly."

"We should go down to the city," Quil said to Sufiyan over the pandemonium of the ballroom. "To the docks. People might be injured. They'll need help."

Sufiyan's face was blank. It was Arelia who regarded Quil as if he'd suggested they chop their own heads off.

"The city guard will see to them." She glanced at the cracked ceiling. "We need to move if we want to live."

Another rumble shook the ballroom, and a chandelier above rocked wildly, its tapers flickering and falling to the floor twenty feet below. The earth groaned.

Rallius pulled Quil away from the flames now spreading across the ballroom, and they entered a long, pillared hallway.

"Wait, my prince!" Rallius eyed the high windows lining the hall, the glass spiderwebbed with ominous cracks. "I'll go first."

Rallius was ten steps ahead when a deep hum sounded from above them, like the sweep of a bird's wings but a hundred times louder. Deeper. The ground shuddered so violently that the windows shattered.

Quil grabbed a pillar, but Arelia slammed into Sufiyan, knocking him to his back and tumbling over him.

"I'm sorry—"

Sufiyan silently pushed Arelia off and stood, unmoving, which was when Quil realized his friend was in shock.

"That blast was closer," Quil said. "It's not a munitions ship, Arelia. Suf, let's move—" The cries outside intensified, a new wave of pain exploding with every attack.

The doors behind them burst open and a herd of guests rushed past, no doubt hoping to escape the palace and make it home.

Quil took two steps after them, wanting desperately to go into the streets of Navium and do whatever he could. The screams of his people swirled and echoed like a hellish wind. The prince's hands shook in rage and sorrow.

"Move, you three!" Rallius staggered toward them. "We're under attack and you're making it easy for our enemies!"

Something's coming , the Bani al-Mauth had said. Quil had felt the truth of that statement in his bones. But he'd never imagined this.

"It can't be an attack." Arelia limped beside Quil. "Our watchtowers would have seen ships. Bombs this big wouldn't fit on sea trebuchets. It's not possib—"

"Quil!"

Sufiyan yanked him backward, his mouth open in a silent scream as another blast shook the palace and one side of the hall crumbled, stone tumbling into the space where Quil was just standing. Freezing air blew in from the black winter sky. The sculpture garden was below, its priceless carvings shattered to dust. The balcony where Quil had stood with his aunt was gone entirely.

Quil had a clear line of sight to the outer gate, thronged with guards and party guests all trying to escape. Beyond, the city burned and the sky glowed a lurid orange. Something flashed above.

The world turned to white fire as the glimmering object smashed into the palace gate and exploded, leveling everything for a hundred yards around it. Quil's ears screamed and his vision went dark.

When he opened his eyes again, he didn't understand whether he was standing or on his back, whether he was staring up into a dark sky or down into one of the hells. His chest seized in terror. The last time he'd felt like this was a year ago, after walking into a blood-soaked chamber.

Don't think about it. Don't.

His ears made a strange, high-pitched eeeeEEEEEeeee , then went silent, then shrieked again.

Sufiyan's face appeared above him, bloodied and soot-stained. "Not again," he muttered as he frantically shook Quil. "Not another brother. I—I can't—"

Quil coughed and grasped his friend's shoulder. "I'm all right, Suf," he said. "Where's Arelia?"

"Here." Arelia staggered toward them, her dress ripped from waist to hem. Quil blanched at the blood trickling down her face. "It's nothing," she said, and lodged herself under one of Quil's shoulders. Sufiyan took the other, and with Rallius leading, they lurched down the hall.

By the time they reached the safe room, Quil had shaken Arelia and Sufiyan off, limping but able to walk, astonished, in a way, that he could do so. That his body still functioned as if the world around him wasn't falling to ruins.

A phalanx of Masks barred the door but, upon seeing Quil and Rallius, moved out of the way. The prince entered to find a crowd of generals bleating at each other about the defense of the city. Runners dropped missives with breathless panic, each one convinced that their message was the most urgent.

One look at his aunt told Quil that she was on the verge of lopping off heads.

"Nephew." She nodded when he entered, but if she was relieved to see him, she didn't show it. Instead, she looked over his shoulder, where Musa had followed him in, blood running down his cheek. Quil caught a flash of something iridescent moving near the man's head. The wings of a wight—tiny humanoid creatures who were notoriously mistrusting and shy, except with Musa. They'd spied for him in the war on the Karkauns twenty years ago. He'd used them only in emergencies since. But their presence explained why he'd returned so quickly. They must have brought him news.

Musa glanced pointedly at the Paters.

"Everyone out," Helene said. "Rallius, get the generals to safe houses outside the city. Take the tunnels. The Fourth Legion is stationed to the north. Its sole purpose is to get our government to safety. See it done."

The Maters and Paters began protesting, but Rallius nodded to his guards, who, after bodily dragging out a few of the Paters, persuaded the rest into docility. Rallius was about to herd Quil, Suf, and Arelia out when Musa spoke up.

"Wait," Musa said. "Sufiyan, Arelia, stay. Quil, you need to hear this."

"He does not," the Empress snapped at Musa. "He—"

"—is heir to a throne you're about to lose," Musa said.

Aunt Helene looked away from Musa to Rallius, who was staring at them, jaw agape, probably wondering the same thing Quil was: why the Empress hadn't taken Musa to task for saying something so treasonous.

"Rallius, go. Don't"—she shook her head when he began to protest—"worry about me. I'll find you, after."

As soon as Rallius closed the door behind him, Musa spoke.

"The Kegari force numbers above thirty thousand—"

"Kegari?" Quil said. "But the marriage—"

Aunt Hel held up a hand and Quil fell silent.

"They flew those infernal Sails here," Musa said, and Quil attempted to remember what Arelia had said about the Kegari transport, other than that it was airborne. "The wights say they've split their forces. A third for Navium. The rest divided throughout the Empire. They're outside the city."

"Thirty thousand isn't nothing, but our army is several times that," Quil said. He didn't understand why they hadn't engaged the Kegari already. "We have two legions in Navium, a hundred Masks—"

But Musa kept his gaze fixed on the Empress. "They have two hundred Battle Sails."

Aunt Hel's face drained of blood.

"Two—two hundred —"

"That's for Navium," Musa continued. "They've sent at least a hundred to Silas and Serra. Two hundred more to Antium. That the wights could spot, anyway. Each can carry a significant payload. They know your cities, Empress. Better than they should."

"They went from fifty to five hundred in a few months," Aunt Helene said. "And our scatter spear defenses aren't complete. We didn't get the firepowder shipment."

"You knew?" Quil stepped in front of his aunt so she had to look at him. "About this attack?"

"Not for certain," Aunt Hel said. "We'd heard rumors. I— Tas spent nearly a year trying to learn more, ever since…" She trailed off, and Quil wanted to scream at all the things she wouldn't say.

"You knew," Quil said, "and you still tried to arrange a marriage—"

"The marriage wasn't real. There was a spy in our ranks." His aunt lowered her voice and Quil could barely hear her. "There is a spy. Someone telling the Kegari everything about us, our defenses, our cities. Tas suggested we announce a marriage to draw the bastard out, but—" She waved Quil away. "Musa, can the wights tell us anything about the Kegari reserve troops? If we're forced into an insurgency, we need to know what we're dealing with long-term."

Quil exchanged a glance with Arelia. An insurgency meant that the Martials would be rebels in their own Empire. Which meant the Empress was entertaining the possibility that this attack would succeed. The Empire had stood for more than five hundred years. The prince couldn't fathom that it would collapse in a matter of hours.

"I don't know yet where their primary camps are," Musa said. "But there are reserves to the southwest, in Jibaut. How many is unclear."

Aunt Helene laughed bitterly. "They promised those pirates first crack at our coastal cities, no doubt. How fast can the wights get us more information?"

"Weeks, at the soonest. I haven't asked for their aid in years."

"Empress!" The door burst open and a runner entered, guards flanking her. "It's urgent." Aunt Helene tore the missive open once the girl was gone. She handed it to Quil.

Eastern and northern reach drummers slaughtered. Eastern wall breached. Send aid.

"Aid," the Empress said. "We have no aid to give."

"You have a plan." Musa squeezed Aunt Hel's shoulder. "It's better than nothing."

"How—" Aunt Hel shook her head. "I let this happen. For five centuries we have weathered every tempest from within and without. And I'm the one watching as we fall."

The palace shuddered, and screams echoed from beyond the safe room. The roof cracked.

Musa glanced up. "You might want to move before that comes down. Ridiculous way for an empress to die, getting crushed by her own palace."

The ground trembled, and a crack shot up one of the walls. The Empress threw herself at her nephew, knocking him to his back as the wall smashed down. Most of the lamps in the room shattered on the floor, and the sudden darkness was suffocating. Quil coughed as Aunt Hel pulled him up.

She turned to Musa, who relit one of the lamps. "Tell me true," she said. "Without the scatter spears, can we hold?"

Musa shook his head and Quil didn't think he'd forget his aunt's face then, a detached sort of calm taking over as her hope leached away, as her world—their world—crumbled into heaps of rubble.

But Aunt Helene had survived the death of her mother. Her father. Her middle sister. Her youngest sister. The love of her life. Her comrades in arms. One after the other, taken from her. She'd seen her capital city fall, her people decimated. She'd clawed it back. She would again. He was certain of it. She'd give some order to turn all this around.

The Empress turned to Quil. "You need to get out of the city, Quil. Leave the Empire. I need you to—"

"Aunt Hel, you can't send me away while our city burns with no explanation."

"The Kegari will be after me, nephew. Take Sufiyan and Arelia. They'll be safer with you, and skies know I don't want to face Elias and Laia if anything should happen to their boy."

Quil shook his head, glancing up at the ceiling. It wouldn't hold for much longer. "I'm not leaving you."

"I'm not going if he's not," Sufiyan said, the first time he'd spoken loud enough for anyone but Quil to hear.

The prince glanced at Arelia, who was peeling her curls off her face. "Me neither."

But Aunt Hel didn't look at them. Instead, she met Quil's eyes with the same sadness as when Quil was returning to the Tribal Lands and she was saying goodbye. For a moment, he saw everything she'd been hiding. The well of feeling that drove her from city to city, that left her in deep silences—sometimes for days.

"I will fight," she said to him. "Skies know I will. But, nephew, if I fall—"

"You won't—"

"If I fall, you will be Emperor. It is your destiny. You must survive."

"I—I don't—" I don't want it. Quil felt the words clawing up his throat, but he could not say them, not when his aunt was so clearly willing to die for the Empire and the people in it. To die for him.

A shrill shriek and another detonation. The roof above began to crumble. Aunt Hel reached over her shoulder, unbuckling the strap across her back. The blade that came free had a distinctive hilt made by only one blacksmith in the Empire.

"It's a Teluman scim." She shoved it into Quil's hands. "One of Elias's. I asked for it—for your coronation."

At any other time, he'd have marveled at such a gift. The scim was a work of art, and Elias's twin swords had been with him for twenty years.

"Empress!" Musa called. "There's no time!"

"Save us, Quil." Helene dragged him toward her so only he could hear, and now her voice was ragged. Panicked. "Save the Empire. Find out as much as you can about our enemies. But most importantly—" She looked around, as if she feared being overheard. "Bring—bring it back. It's the only thing that will destroy them."

"Bring what—"

"Tas!" she hissed. "He's with the Ankanese. Find him. You know where he'll be. He has it. Bring it back. As much as you can. I cannot say more. This is why you must leave. I trust no one else with this task."

"Let me stay with you. Send the Blood Shrike—send Tas a message—"

"I dare not. The spy could be anyone and we cannot risk a message to Tas being intercepted. The survival of the Empire depends on you, Quil. Do not fail our people. We are Gens Aquilla. We are—"

"Loyal," he said. "To the end."

She touched her hand to his brow. "My boy. My heir. My blood. You are the best parts of me. I know you will not fail."

The earth shook so violently that Quil's bones rattled. Sufiyan steadied him as Arelia charged ahead, picking the safest way through the rubble . Quil stumbled after, turning back once. But the Empress and Musa had disappeared into the wreckage of the falling palace.