Give the Dark My Love(86)

I knocked Tomus’s shoulder as I tried to move past him, heading to the door. Before I could reach it, however, it swung open.

Two men and a woman strode inside, their bright red coats announcing their position as Emperor’s guards. My stomach sank. They walked straight toward me. They knew who they were after.

“Greggori Astor?” the woman said in a clear, loud voice.

“Yes,” I said, tired. “Do we have to do this here?”

The guard looked surprised, blinking at the rabid attention of every single student in the cafeteria. “If you could come with us,” she said in a softer voice that nonetheless carried throughout the silent hall.

“Let’s get this over with.” I headed to the door, the Emperor’s Guard in my wake.

Outside Yūgen’s gate, horses stomped and snorted, their breath forming clouds around their heads, obscuring the crimson tassels on their bridles.

“Please get in the carriage,” the captain said.

It wasn’t a carriage, though, not really, and we all knew it. There were no fancy seats behind elegant doors. This was a wagon atop wheels, the few windows barred and a heavy lock on the door. This was a prisoner transport.

“Am I under arrest?” I asked, hoping some of my father’s authority was in my voice.

The captain opened the transport door. “Please get inside,” she repeated without looking at me.

For a brief moment, I felt a rush of panic. I focused on the narrow spot between the guards, and I believed if I burst through them, I could escape. But I had no reason to flee—I was guilty of nothing except, perhaps, association.

I stepped into the carriage, the wagon shifting under my weight until I settled on the bench on one side. One of the male guards followed, sitting across from me. The captain shut the door, and she and the other guard clambered to the bench atop the transport, tapping the horses with a whip to get them moving.

Chains I’d not noticed before rattled as the wagon bumped over the cobblestones. I slid over the smooth wooden seat before I steadied myself. We were moving at a fast clip, and I stood despite the uneven motion of the carriage, holding on to the bars at the window so I could watch my neighborhood slip away.

Once the cobblestones gave way to smooth paving stones, the ride got easier. Outside, the buildings were smoother, too—made of sleek, carved stone, not ramshackle wooden planks. I guessed that was what wealth did, wore away all the rough edges of everything it touched. Money was nothing more than sandpaper made of diamond grit.

I knew where we were going before we got there. Still, I couldn’t help but gape in awe as the door to the carriage opened.

We were at the palace.

At the beginning of the school year, Yūgen had hired sleek black carriages to carry us up to the grand entrance, the curving marble steps cascading with roses, the flapping banners of silk and gold lamé flapping in the wind as we proudly walked up the stairs as if we belonged nowhere else. Now the prisoner transport carried me to the back.

“This way,” the captain said politely as the other officers accompanying her dispersed. Despite my arrival, I was not treated like a prisoner.

The captain led me inside. The hallways were marble, protected by a lush red carpet, and the doors along the plastered walls were made of rich, shining cherry. We walked in silence for several minutes. The farther into the palace we went, the more richly decorated the hallway became. Little niches built into the walls displayed paintings and busts of important, long-dead politicians on short stone columns. The doors grew wider, and they were carved with bas-relief designs that indicated who worked in each office. A battle scene for the governor’s general, a scale weighted with gold for the chief tax collector, three stars for the governor’s personal Oryon confessor and advisor.

The door we stopped at had a single mark engraved in the wood: a circle with a lopsided T spilling out from it. The first rune of alchemy.

These were the chambers of the Lord Commander.





FIFTY-SEVEN


    Nedra



The Emperor’s Guard came in a red lacquered boat. The priest and the others who’d come to my island had been quick to report us. But I had spent the night preparing.

I waited by the door, watching through the crack as the captain pulled out a vocal horn. “By order of Emperor Auguste, you must surrender your person for trial.”

I could still hear the boots of the Emperor’s Guard when they had come for Master Ostrum. They beat him bloody and dragged him away. I had hidden in the darkness, and even though most of the emotion had been cauterized from me with my parents’ death, I still had the capacity to fear.

I was not afraid now.

My revenants stood behind me. They could sense my plan, and they awaited my command. The living who’d come to my island were nervous.

“What are you going to do?” Dannix asked. “The Emperor—”

I shook my head, not bothering to hide my smile. How could Dannix be afraid of a little boy hiding in a tower when I was right in front of him?

“The Emperor sent a whole ship to capture me,” I said. I looked back at my revenants. “It will not be enough.”

“This is your last chance!” the captain on the boat shouted up to me. I didn’t move. I had learned from Tomus that the gravest insult to most men was simply to ignore them.