By dawn, the generals have departed with new orders: to get the legions armed and ready to fight and to shore up Antium's defenses. The drums thunder ceaselessly, demanding aid from the governors of Silas and Estium. Meanwhile, Marcus calls up reserve soldiers, but he needn't have bothered. Antium's citizens are Martials through and through. Grimarr and his men savaged our port. At the news of another attack, hundreds of young men and women arrive at barracks across the city, volunteering for duty, hungry for revenge.

"My lord." I take the Emperor aside after the others leave. I wish there were a better time, but no one knows Marcus's mood from one moment to the next. And right now, he seems as sane as he's ever been. "There's the matter of your wife and heir."

Marcus's whole body goes still. He's listening to the voice that speaks to him--to Zak's ghost. I send a silent plea to the spirit to make our emperor see reason. "What of them?" he says.

"If there is a siege, this is the last place you'll want them to be. The Grain Moon is less than a month away. Livia is due then. I advise that you get her to safety, ideally in Silas or Estium."

"No."

"It's not just the siege that threatens," I say. "Keris will be here within days. She's already made one attempt on the Empress's life. She's angry. She will make another. We must thwart her before that happens. If she doesn't know where Livvy and your heir are, then she cannot hurt them."

"If I send my wife and unborn child out of Antium, people will think I fear those fur-wearing, woad-faced bastards." He doesn't lift his attention from the map before him, but every muscle in his body is bunched. He holds his temper by a thread. "The child should be born in Antium, in the Emperor's palace, with witnesses, so there are no questions of his parentage."

"We could do it quietly," I say, desperation creeping into my voice. I must secure a regency. I must not let any more harm come to my baby sister. I've failed enough on that score. "No one has to know she's gone. The city will be preparing for war. The Paters won't notice."

"You're suddenly very interested in the survival of my dynasty."

"Livia is the only sibling I have left," I say. "I don't want her to die. As for your dynasty, I am your Blood Shrike. I will not insult your intelligence by claiming to like you, my lord. I find you . . . difficult. But my fate and my sister's are tied to yours, and if your line fails, we both die. Please, get Livia and the child to safety." I take a deep breath. "I think it's what he would want."

I don't say Zacharias's name. Mentioning him is either brilliant or unforgivably stupid. Marcus finally looks up from the map. His jaw clenches, his fists bunch. I brace for the blow--

But then he hisses through his teeth, as if in sudden pain.

"Send her to my family," he says. "My parents are in Silas. No one is to know, especially not the Bitch of Blackcliff. If anything happens to my heir because of this, Shrike, it will be your head on a pike. After she's gone, I want you back here. You and I have something we need to do."

* * *

Clouds threaten on the horizon, heavy and low. I smell the storm approaching. Livvy needs to get on the road before it hits.

Faris has men positioned along the entire street, and as far as they know, the Empress is leaving to visit an ailing aunt on the outskirts of the city. The carriage will return with another woman dressed as Livvy by nightfall.

"Rallius and I can handle it, Shrike." Faris looks askance at the Black Guard waiting at the end of the road--a dozen handpicked, hardened warriors.

"You are traveling with my only sister and the heir of the Empire," I say. "I could send a legion with you and it wouldn't be enough."

"This is ridiculous," Livia says as I bundle her into the carriage. The first raindrops begin to fall. "We will hold the city. You will hold the city."

"The Karkauns are coming, yes," I say. "But Keris is too. We nearly lost you once because I wasn't wary enough of her. The only reason you're still alive--"

"I know." My sister's voice is soft. She has not asked me about the healing--about why I never healed her before. Perhaps she knows I do not wish to speak of it.

"We cannot risk it." I harden myself. "We cannot risk the future of the Empire. Go. Watch your back. Trust Faris and Rallius and no one else. When it's safe again, I'll send for you."

"I won't go." Livia grabs my hand. "I will not leave you here."

I think of my father. His sternness. I am Mater of Gens Aquilla now, and it is the future of the Gens--the future of my people--that I must protect. "You will go." I pull my fingers from her grip. Thunder rumbles, closer than I thought it would be. "You will remain hidden. And you will do it with the grace with which you have done everything else, Empress Livia Aquilla Farrar. Loyal to the end. Say it."

My sister bites her lip, her pale eyes glowing with anger. But then she nods, as I knew she would. "Loyal to the end," she says.

By the time the storm has broken over Antium, Livia is well away from the capital. But my relief is short-lived. You and I have something we need to do. I will not soon forget the abuse that Marcus inflicted on Livia. I think back to a year ago, during the Trials. To the nightmares that plagued me of Marcus as Emperor and me doing his bidding. What does he have planned for me now?

XXXIX: Laia

My blood transforms to lead at the sound of the jinn and their strange, layered voice. It throbs with cunning and rage. But beneath it flows a river of almost imperceptible sorrow, just like with the Nightbringer.

"Where is Elias?" I know they will not tell me anything of worth, but I ask anyway, hoping that some response will be better than silence.

We will tell you, they croon. But you must come to us.

"I'm not a fool." I rest my hand on my dagger, though doing so serves no practical purpose. "I know your king, remember? You're as slippery as he is."

No tricks, Laia, daughter of Mirra. Unlike you, we do not fear the truth, for it is the truth that shall free us from our prison. And the truth shall free you from yours. Come to us.

Elias has never trusted the jinn. I shouldn't either--I know this. But Elias is not here. Nor are the ghosts. And something is very wrong, otherwise he would be here. I need to get across the Forest. There is no other path to Antium--to the Blood Shrike--to the last piece of the Star.

Standing here agonizing over it isn't going to do me any good. I make my way west, following the compass in my head, moving as swiftly as I can while it is still light out. Perhaps Elias is only away for a short time. Perhaps he will return.

Or perhaps he doesn't know I'm here. Perhaps something has happened to him.

Or, the jinn whisper, he doesn't care. He has greater things to worry about than you. They do not say it with malice. They simply state a fact, which makes it all the more chilling.

Our king showed you, did he not? You saw it in his eyes: Elias walking away. Elias choosing duty over you. He will not help you, Laia. But we can. If you allow us, we will show you the truth.

"Why would you help me? You know why I'm here. You know what I'm trying to do."

The truth shall free us from our prison, the jinn say again. As it will free you from yours. Let us help you.

"Stay away from me," I say. The jinn fall silent. Do I dare hope that they will leave me be? A wind pushes at my back, ruffling my hair and pulling at my clothes. I jump, spinning, seeking the shadows for enemies. It is just wind.

But as the night drags on, I flag. And when I can walk no more, I have no choice but to stop. A broad tree trunk serves as my shelter, and I hunker against it with my daggers in hand. The Forest is strangely peaceful, and as soon as my body makes contact with the earth, the tree, I feel calmer, like I'm in a familiar place. It is not the familiarity of a well-traveled road. It is different. Older. In my very blood.

In the darkest hour of the night, sleep claims me, and, with it, dreams. I find myself flying over the Waiting Place, skimming the treetops, incensed and yet terrified. My people. They are imprisoning my people. All I know is that I must get to them.

I must reach them, if only I can . . .

I awake to the overwhelming sense that something is wrong. The trees that surround me are not those I fell asleep beside. These trees are as wide as an Adisan avenue, and they glow an eerie red, as if on fire from within.

"Welcome to our prison, Laia of Serra."

The Nightbringer materializes from the shadows, speaking almost tenderly. He brushes his strangely glowing hands against the tree trunks as he circles them. They whisper a word at him, a word I cannot make out, but he silences them with his touch.

"You--you brought me here?"

"My brethren brought you. Be thankful they left you intact. They longed to tear you into a thousand pieces."

"If you could kill me, you'd have done it already," I say. "The Star protects me."

"Indeed, my love."

I recoil. "Don't you call me that. You don't know what love is."

His back was to me, but he turns now, immobilizing me with that eerily bright stare. "Ah, but I do." His bitterness curdles the very air, it is so ancient. "For I was born to love. It was my calling, my purpose. Now it is my curse. I know love better than any other creature alive. Certainly better than a girl who gives her heart to whoever happens by."

"Tell me where Elias is."

"In such a hurry, Laia. Just like your mother. Sit with my brethren a while. They have so few visitors."

"You know nothing of my mother and father. Tell me where Elias is."

My gorge rises as the Nightbringer speaks again. His voice feels too close, like he is forcing an intimacy I have not granted.

"What will you do if I do not tell you where Elias is? Leave?"

"That is exactly what I'll do," I say, but my voice is weaker than I wish it to be. My legs feel strange. Numb. Skies, I feel ill. I lean forward, and when my hands touch the earth, a jolt rolls through me. The word that comes to my mind is not the one I expect. Home.

"The Waiting Place sings to you. It knows you, Laia of Serra."

"Wh--why?"