The Girl King (The Girl King #1)(46)

She knew it all along, so why was she arguing with him? Was this how children grew to be adults who repeated the mistakes of their forefathers? Not by ill will, but by rote?

Lu felt suddenly very tired. “I’m sorry for what happened to you slipskins, but that—”

“Stop using that word. We’re Gifted Kith, not ‘slipskins.’ Gods, my father was right—you Hu have no respect for us, or what you used to be. Despicable. You’re traitors— worse than the Hana!”

Lu opened her mouth to counter, but Omair interrupted. “Enough,” he said quietly, firmly. “Both of you.”

Nok frowned but resumed his seat. Whatever hold the old apothecarist had over him was strong.

Omair turned to Lu once more. “Tell me what else you know about the shamanesses.”

She nodded, trying to hide how flustered she was. “As part of the treaty at the end of the Gray War, in exchange for allowing Yunis to retain its sovereignty, the Yunians agreed to discontinue their order. The existing shamanesses were too dangerous to leave in Yunian hands, of course, so they were sent south as wards of the empire—”

“Hostages,” the boy interjected.

Lu ignored him. “They were taken to the capital to live in the Immaculate City. There, the shamanesses were assigned menial tasks normally relegated to the lowest-ranking monks and nuns. Dressing bodies for burial, laundry duties, that sort of thing. Then, shortly after my birth, it was discovered the shamanesses had been plotting against the empire. In turn . . .”

She faltered, but forced herself to push forward. She did not look at the Ashina boy. “In turn, the entire order was executed.”

Omair nodded. “I believe the shamanesses were innocent of the crimes for which they died. The victims of politics, warring court factions.”

Lu opened her mouth to object, to demand evidence for this theory, but she hesitated. The shamanesses were too dangerous to live, she told herself. That was what she’d been taught. It had to be true; who would have innocent girls put to death, otherwise? She almost asked the question aloud, but Omair continued speaking before she could. She couldn’t help but be relieved.

“I was taught magic by one of the shamanesses.” The old man averted his eyes as he said the words, an odd flicker of shame crossing his face. “Tsai. She was . . . a good friend, to both me and Yuri. Slight, almost brittle to look at, but that exterior hid immense power. A star crammed inside a soap bubble, Yuri liked to joke.”

Lu waited for him to continue, but he did not. “I’m sorry about your friend,” she said finally, “but I don’t understand what that has to do with what’s happening now.”

“Your grandfather thought that by removing the shamanesses, he was taking away the Yunians’ magic: the one weapon they had that the empire did not. What he failed to understand was that the actual magic, the raw energy, comes from the city itself—locked away in the bricks of its buildings, the stone of the mountains upon which it was erected.” He paused. “Yuri thinks your cousin knows this, and he seeks to take it for himself.”

“Set?” Lu demanded incredulously.

“Yes,” Omair confirmed. “His guru—that former monk he keeps with him?”

“The one he calls Brother,” Lu supplied.

“Yes, that is the one.” Omair nodded. “Long before he came into your cousin’s service, Brother was a Hana mul monk, specializing in energy healing. Talented but arrogant. He was assigned as a physician at one of the first labor camps up north. Instead, finding no supervision, he began carrying out his own agenda. He . . . experimented on the children.”

His sad eyes drifted past Lu then. “Nok, Yuri tells me you might remember him.”

Lu turned. The color had drained from the Ashina boy’s face. He looked small and faint.

“I remember him,” he said, his voice distant. Lu could see thoughts racing behind his eyes—he was making connections and drawing conclusions to which she was not privy.

Omair refocused on Lu. “Brother’s experiments failed, and he was soon removed from the camps. Too many healthy young workers dying on his watch. Yuri tracked him for a time, but the man disappeared. Then he reappeared at your cousin’s side, whispering in his ear. He—they—want to find Yunis. They want their secrets. Their knowledge—”

“Their magic,” she finished.

Omair nodded grimly. “The combination of the energy in the Ruvai Mountains and the Yunians’ ability to wield it was like nothing else on earth. Had they used it to its full power during the wars, I suspect they not only could have won but also marched south and left Yulan City a smoldering ruin.”

“So why didn’t they?”

Omair shook his head. “I don’t know. They were not a martial people. Perhaps they thought they could stay in place and withstand your grandfather’s army. Perhaps they did not want that blood on their hands. More likely, though, they knew that magic of that scale, that power, could not be properly controlled by humans. That it could have unforeseen, devastating consequences.”

“I don’t think my cousin would have such qualms,” Lu mused.

“No,” Omair agreed darkly. “Yuri thought not, either.”

Silence stretched between them. An ember in the cook fire popped and Lu jumped.