Bring Me Their Hearts(75)

“Pala Amna?”

“The Final City,” Malachite clarifies. “Our haven. Well, the last haven the Beneather empire has left. The valkerax chased us out of the rest hundreds of years ago.”

“They liked the taste of you that much, did they?” I stop. “You know, that sounded less terrible in my head.”

“I’m sure.” He snorts. “But, no. It takes more than a bit of Beneather flesh to bring a thousand screeching valkerax out of the Dark Below.” He pauses. “That’s what we call the underground world, in case you didn’t know.”

“You’re an excellent teacher of Beneather culture. Why, you should’ve seen the look on Archduke Gavik’s face when I asked him if he had any vachiayis last night.”

Malachite laughs, so loud a flock of startled sunbirds take off into the air. He watches the scenery of the noble quarter flash by, crimson eyes reflecting the metal of lawguard armor and the whitestone of the buildings. I can’t imagine an entire empire below my feet—dozens of miles down. The thought of the cavities beneath the earth holding screeching, fang-laden valkerax is terrifying. The only thing I do know about Beneathers is what everyone seems to know—they keep the valkerax from escaping into the world above by becoming peerless warriors. The broadsword on Malachite’s back gleams ominously. I’m utterly convinced that despite his carefree attitude and disrespect for authority, he’d be a monstrous challenge in a fight. It’s no small wonder King Sref hired him to be Lucien’s bodyguard.

“I was supposed to be there, you know,” Malachite says. “With you and Luc, at that raid.”

“No one begrudges you a vacation day, or twelve.” Least of all me. It’s never been a question—taking Lucien’s heart will be possible only if Malachite is absent.

“Vacations be damned—there was a guy sneaking around Lucien’s bedroom, so I had to do a bit of last-minute interrogation. With my sword to his throat.”

“Get any good bits?” I inquire.

“Oh, you know: The d’Malvanes have been in power too long, King Sref took my son from me, so I’m taking his from him, Prince Lucien stands for everything I hate about nobles. The usual.”

At least one of those sounded like something I used to catch myself thinking. “I find it hard to believe wanting to kill the Crown Prince is ‘the usual.’”

Malachite shrugs. “King Sref isn’t a popular guy. Assassins aren’t uncommon, but this one—” He gnaws his pale thumb. “No. Never mind.”

“You can tell me,” I tease him. “My mouth might look big, but I assure you, I keep my words small.”

He chuckles, then falls quiet. “It was just strange. All his lines sounded rehearsed. He was still scared, but he wouldn’t crack, wouldn’t deviate from his story. Just kept saying the same lines over and over. And his blade—”

Malachite fishes a dagger out of his armor. The smell hits me instantly—white mercury. There, inside the handle, is a broken vial leaking a little white.

“It was this weird thing,” Malachite presses. “That’s white mercury, right?”

I nod. “As far as I know.”

“The royal polymaths told me this stuff dulls magic if it gets inside a witch or Heartless. It isn’t cheap or easy to come by. And the polymaths keep most of it under lock and key. So why was a common assassin trying to kill a human prince with a white mercury weapon? And who gave it to him?”

The celeon assassin who tried to kill me before I left Nightsinger floats to the surface of my mind. The witches said someone in Vetris was sending assassins out with those white mercury weapons to test them on Heartless and witches. The royal polymaths, maybe? No—I know better than that. I know who controls them.

“The d’Malvanes are a witch family, right?” I ask lightly, though my words carry deep shadow.

Malachite nods. “Supposedly.”

“There’s one person who really hates witches and has access to white mercury who comes immediately to mind,” I try. “Archduke Gavik.”

He goes still and exhales, putting the dagger away. “Dark Below—I hope it wasn’t him.”

“Don’t think you can take him?” I ask.

Malachite snorts. “I’d cleave that genocidal old coot in two with one hand. I’m just worried what it means for Lucien. They’ve never been on great terms. White mercury or no, Gavik’s never tried to kill him outright, though. If he is now, it means Gavik is confident in his total power. It means Lucien is in more danger than I thought.”

“You’ll be happy to know, then, that Lucien, Lady Himintell, and I have formed sort of a…coalition against him. I like to call it the United Army of Kicking Gavik’s Moldy Arsehole into the Afterlife. You’re welcome to join.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “I heard. Maybe I will. Just be careful, will you? That Himintell girl tends to let her desire for revenge block out the consequences of her actions, for both herself and others.”

“Did Lady Himintell—did she care about Princess Varia that much?”

“Still does,” Malachite agrees. “I wasn’t there before Varia died, but I was there for the aftermath. Fione worshipped her. Loved her, if I had to guess. Revenge doesn’t burn that hot unless you’ve lost the one you love.”