Page 107 of All the Wandering Light

“The emperor?” Tem looked surprised. “I don’t think he’s even looked at me.” He paused. “I hope it stays that way.”

I nodded. I hadn’t told Tem about my own private interview with Emperor Lozong—I was still trying to work out how I felt about it.

“All right,” Tem said, after setting another anchor. “That should hold.”

“Guess I’ll be the one doing this tomorrow,” I said. It wasn’t easy keeping my voice light.

“You won’t need warding spells tomorrow. The soldiers will be ample protection once you’re through the forest.” His voice held the same careful lightness as mine. “All the same . . .”

He reached into his pocket and drew out a leather cord strung with two of the kinnika. The black bell, and the tarnished one, marked shadow-kin. When he placed them in my hand, they made no sound at all. The black bell hadn’t sounded since Azar-at had left.

Thinking about the fire demon sent a shiver down my spine, and for a moment, I imagined I saw a flash of his fiery eyes from the shadows. But Azar-at was gone—neither River nor I had seen him since the night of the fires. “I can’t take these,” I said. “You’ll need them.”

“Something tells me you’ll need them more than me,” he said, smiling. “I would give you the one I used during the fires, but Mara said I have to return that to the Elder of Jangsa.”

“Mara.” I shook my head. The chronicler had left the Three Cities for his family home in a huff, not bothering to say good-bye to any of us. I suspected that Lusha’s frequent visits with the emperor had something to do with it.

“According to the royal librarians, those two kinnika date from long before the binding spell was cast,” Tem said. They’re not tainted with the witches’ magic, so you won’t have to worry about their power failing.”

“But those—” I looked at the string of kinnika around Tem’s neck, which looked strange now, incomplete. “Those will fail?”

“Eventually.” His gaze grew distant. “There are hundreds of ancient talismans kept in sealed rooms beneath the libraries. They’re faded and crude, and they don’t have the same power as the talismans imbued with the witches’ magic. But some of the royal shamans are beginning to talk seriously about repurposing them. About resurrecting the forgotten magics that the shamans didn’t need to learn when they could rely on stolen power. For instance, I’ve read several scrolls describing the combined power of fire and ravensbone . . .”

I couldn’t help smiling, listening to him talk. Tem caught my expression and blushed. “I mean—I won’t be spending all my time in the libraries.”

“Of course not,” I said in a mock-serious tone. “Just that part of the day that falls between dawn and dusk.” I paused. “They’re lucky to have you.”

“They would be luckier if the emperor had never cast the binding spell in the first place,” Tem said. “It didn’t just weaken the witches. Shamans have forgotten things they never should have forgotten. Now that the witches are free, they’re starting to remember. Now there’s . . .”

“What?” I said. “Balance?”

He shook his head slightly. “There is no balance between shamans and witches. Witches have magic in their bones. But that’s the way it should be.” He gestured to the kinnika. “Please take them, Kamzin.”

I swallowed. I placed the kinnika around my neck, and knew I would never take them off. Not while Tem wore the others.

“I’m sorry,” Tem said suddenly.

I gazed at him. “For what?”

“I know I made things difficult,” Tem said. His face was flushed, and he didn’t meet my gaze. “When it ended between us, part of me always believed we’d have another chance. It was stupid. I always knew it would end up like this.”

An ache blossomed in my chest. “End up like what?”

Tem smiled faintly. “With you charging off on some adventure. And me staying behind. Though I never guessed it would be in the emperor’s court. You’re like the wind—you’re meant to be out there, among the mountains and the stars, fighting storms and monsters and anything else foolish enough to get in your way. And I’m . . . well, I’m not.”

“Tem.” I had to pause, to steady my voice. “You know I’ll always love you. Even if it isn’t—”

“I know,” he said. “You’re the most important person in the world to me, Kamzin. I—” He broke off. “I’ll always be there for you. Whenever you need me.”

I wrapped him in a hug. Above us, the stars brightened.

“I should check on Dechen’s wards,” Tem said, pulling back. His eyes were moist, but he seemed calmer. “I don’t like leaving it to chance.”

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Go.”

He went.

Emperor Lozong came to me the day after the Three Cities burned.