Page 22 of House of Dusk

YENERIS

Y eneris knew the city of Helissa was large and sprawling, but even so, she was taken aback by the view from the tower.

The palace itself was vast, a green sea of terraced gardens and pools, punctuated by the crimson roofs of long buildings hedged by striped blue and green pillars.

Gold glimmered from the rows of statues along the sloping paths and wide white stairs, each of them a testament to some ancient monarch or hero of legend.

Helisson had no need of new heroes, it seemed. Or new kings.

During her training, Mikat had told her a story of two Helissoni men, both powerful already, one the owner of a large tin mine, the other a merchant with a lucrative trade in spices from across the Middle Sea.

Both had claimed to be Breseus reborn, one on the word of a soothsayer, the other based on a pattern of freckles on his cheek that resembled the star sign of the boar-slayer.

It seemed ridiculous to Yeneris, but she had been curious enough to ask, How did they decide?

They went into the wilds to hunt a particularly savage boar, said Mikat.

They agreed that whichever of them slew the beast could claim the title.

But the boar was crafty and slew them both.

They might have mastered it, had they worked together, but they cared more for individual glory. Like all Helissoni.

Yeneris wondered, now, if the story was true, or just another way for Mikat to remind her that she was a part of something larger than herself. She and Mikat and a dozen others, all of them working together to regain what was lost.

In spite of herself, Yeneris turned to the south.

She couldn’t see the ocean from here, only the silver snake of the river.

One week’s sail to the Middle Sea, then another to the isles, if the weather was fair.

Or so she’d been told. She had never made the voyage in that direction.

Only the opposite, when she was just a girl, and that had taken far longer.

Sinoe leaned from the parapet, her fingers tightening on the stone balustrade.

Tami clung to her shoulder, wings half-spread for balance, velvety tail swishing down the princess’s spine.

The ailouron was behaving surprisingly well, though she had cast her scat perilously close to Yeneris’s feet earlier.

“I see them. That is them, isn’t it? There?”

Yeneris moved closer, squinting at the tiny figures down at the main gates, a pair of enormous bronze doors set into the outer wall that surrounded the palace, separating it from rest of the city.

“Yes,” she said, recognizing the prince’s glittering helm and the crimson spatters of the soldiers. And the spot of gray that trailed after Ichos like a blurry shadow. The Heron.

Yeneris gave Sinoe a sidelong glance. The girl’s expression was remote, but she could see the signs of worry, the tightness where she must be chewing the inside of her cheek.

Tami ducked her head, crooning softly as she groomed the few loose curls that clustered at Sinoe’s temple.

Yeneris’s belly clenched, seeing that sharply hooked beak so close to the princess’s lustrous eyes, but Sinoe had no fear.

She stroked the ailouron’s crest. “You should fly. Enjoy your freedom while you can.”

Tami keened again, her feline hindquarters tensing, muscles rippling beneath charcoal fur.

In one smooth leap, she flung herself into the sky.

Yeneris’s breath caught at the sight. She hadn’t realized the ailouron’s wings were so large.

For a heartbeat, they eclipsed the sun, and Yeneris dreamed of what it might feel like to rise above this world.

Sinoe was watching too, her face a study in glory and desolation. If she trusts you, she will not suspect you when it’s time to act.

“Your brother seems very capable,” said Yeneris. Which was only partly a lie. She’d seen the prince sparring. He could handle a blade, even if he couldn’t hold his tongue around his father. “I’m sure he’ll return safely.”

Sinoe cast a wry look at Yeneris. “So you’re the sibyl now, Yen?”

“No, princess. I didn’t mean it like that. Only—”

“It’s fine. I know what you meant. And yes, my brother is capable of a great many things.

I’m certain he’ll find answers at Stara Bron.

Especially with that man to help him sniff them out.

” Her lips pinched briefly. “I just...I’ve been here before.

I’m always here, watching people leave. Because of my visions. ”

Likely she was talking about her mother, the former queen, Kizare, whom Hierax had divorced and then sent back home to her people soon after he declared himself the Ember King reborn. Because of Sinoe’s prophecy.

“How old were you when your mother left?”

“Nine.”

Yeneris’s throat clenched. She’d been ten when her mother died.

“And you haven’t seen her since?”

Sinoe huffed. “Father won’t allow her to visit.”

“You could go to her, surely?”

That got her an arched brow. “My father barely allows me to leave the palace. He’s hardly going to send me into the hands of his enemies.”

A screech rang out, drawing both of them to turn their faces skyward. Tami had apparently taken insult from the pennant snapping at the crest of the tower above. She dove, but the wind flicked the cloth from her grasping talons at the last moment.

Undaunted, the ailouron beat her golden wings, climbing again, her cries growing more and more outraged as the banner defied her. When she finally managed to tear loose a strip of the crimson cloth, her shriek was as triumphant as if she’d bested a manticore.

Sinoe laughed, and it was her true laugh again, the bewitching tumble of merriment that plucked at Yeneris’s throat. Almost, she let the conversation die. But she was here to learn, not to laugh.

“I thought there was a peace treaty with Scarthia.” She’d seen the ambassador at a lily-gazing party Sinoe had attended earlier that week: a tall, imposing woman who looked as if she could run twenty miles, wrestle a lion, and then compose an epic poem about it.

Yeneris had approved. Even more so when she saw the woman thank the servant who brought her wine.

It was Ambassador Opotysi who had gifted Sinoe the ailouron.

A significant gift, from what Yeneris knew of Scarthians.

The creatures were much prized in the north, treasured and loyal companions generally kept only by those who shared blood with their chieftains.

Kizare was sister to the leader of one of the largest clans.

“Treaties can be broken. And my father is not a trusting man.” Sinoe looked back toward the gates. The figures were gone now, on their way north to the temple of the House of Dawn to claim a mythic blade to slay an ancient evil.

Prickles fluttered over her skin as Yeneris remembered Sinoe’s voice—the voice of the Fates—intoning the words that had sent Ichos and Lacheron on that mission.

Long has the old enemy watched and waited. Now he seeks to strike his second blow, and the world will not survive it. The first light must reveal the weapon of unmaking. When it is found, when the Maiden steps forth from flame to take her rightful place, onl y then sha ll the old enemy fall.

But the kore was not meant for flame. She had given herself to the earth. She had bound her spirit deep in the bones of the earth, a sacrifice to save her people.

Yeneris thought of what her mother had told her on the day the crimson sails had appeared on the horizon. They’ve come because of a lie. Their king believes the kore belongs to him.

We should tell them the truth, then , Yeneris had said. So young, so naive.

They don’t believe us. They have their own stories. And it is very, very hard to make someone believe a new story about themse lves.

Hierax gripped his own supposed destiny with an iron fist. He would never willingly release it.

Yeneris would have to take it. Return the kore to her rightful home before the Helissoni could undo her sacrifice.

With Ichos and the Heron gone, there would be fewer watchful eyes.

Perhaps she should try to break into the queen’s chambers tonight.

Steal away the kore’s bones and be done with crushing herself into this other world.

Steps sounded on the stairs. Yeneris shifted smoothly, setting herself between Sinoe and the door. A moment later a man in the pale blue of a palace attendant appeared. He dipped a low bow to Sinoe, who waved for Yeneris to step aside.

“Bright One, the king sends his blessings and wishes you to share your noon meal with him.”

“Very well.” Sinoe’s voice was perfectly calm, but Yeneris caught a flicker of tension in her jaw.

She whistled, a single sweet note. Tami spiraled down to land heavily on Sinoe’s shoulder.

Her golden eyes fixed on the servant, who took a step back, warily eyeing the bit of crimson cloth trailing from the ailouron’s claws.

It looked distressingly like blood against Sinoe’s pale gown.

The princess reached up, soothing the bird-beast with her touch, and seeming to draw strength from Tami in return. “Will anyone else be joining us?”

“No, my lady. Your father requested a f-family meal.”

Why had the attendant stammered over the word family ? Was it some slight to the absent prince?

Sinoe’s fingers froze for a long moment, buried in the thick golden feathers of Tami’s ruff. “Very well. Come, Yeneris. Best not to keep them waiting.”

· · ·

Them . Yeneris considered the word as she followed Sinoe down the spiral of pearly marble steps. So far as she knew, Sinoe had no close relations besides her father and brother, at least not here in the city. Hierax had no siblings, only a scattering of distant cousins.

They crossed the myrtle courtyard, cool and plashy with fountains, then into the southern section of the palace. A thrill of alarm and expectation shivered through Yeneris. The queen’s wing.