Page 57 of All the Wandering Light

“I’m not allied with anyone,” River snapped. I couldn’t see his face. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“You protect humans now, in addition to deserters?” Esha’s expression could not have been more appalled.

“I’ve been saying it for years,” Thorn said, shaking his head. “There’s something that isn’t right about him. Sky never listened to me, of course. He wouldn’t hear a word against his precious River.”

Esha, who had seemed as incurious about the presence of a human in this forsaken place as he might be about an unusual insect, examined me properly for the first time. I shuddered, for it was like being examined by a raging storm—with a gesture, he could toss me from the mountainside.

“Is she from the emperor’s court?” Esha demanded. “Did you bring her here to spy on us?”

“Who cares?” Thorn sounded almost bored. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Get what over with?” River said. In the same moment, an enormous hawk soared over my head, its talons narrowly missing me. I cried out. The shadows around Esha and Thorn began to move. At least three more witches were there, though I could make out only the barest hint of their outlines. A black jay darted past, ruffling my hair, its form melting into that of a barefoot woman, her hair a tangle that hid her eyes. She was at once physical and ethereal, flesh and bone and something bloodless and breathless, like night. In that sense, she reminded me of River—in every other, she was a monster from a nightmare.

Esha was eyeing River with an expression that was half-wary, half-calculating. “Did you think I’d let you keep the Crown, River?”

River’s expression was as confused as I felt, though my confusion was dwarfed by dread. I wanted, increasingly, to put distance between myself and him—all of them—but moving would only draw Esha’s gaze. “The Crown—”

“I didn’t inherit it, you see.” Esha turned away slightly. “Nor did Thorn. That leaves you. You were so quick to master shape-shifting, weren’t you? And the shadows obey you without hesitation.”

“Esha, you’re mad,” River said. “The Crown always passes to the eldest child, unless . . .” He stopped. An awful expression dawned on his face. He seemed to take in the witches circling in the shadows.

“River.” My fingers dug into his arm. It was clear to me what Esha’s intentions were, even if I didn’t understand anything else. We had to get out of here, now.

“Unless,” Esha murmured. “‘The Crown can be fickle’—is that not what Mother always said? It may have abandoned our line entirely. But perhaps—perhaps—it’s fickle enough to pass to the least deserving member of the family.”

“Esha,” River said, his voice very quiet, “what really happened to Sky?” The shadows at his feet, as if sensing his agitation, were trembling. A chill settled in my chest as I realized what River meant, and I looked at Esha with new repulsion.

“Ah, you guessed that,” Esha said. “No matter. I knew the binding spell was breaking, and I knew it would be harder to get rid of Sky after the fact, when he came into his powers. With Mother’s death, and you off gallivanting around the Empire, Sky was distracted.”

“He always did have a talent for moping,” Thorn said, in the sort of tone you might use while examining your nails. I wondered distantly if anything had ever shaken the look of smug malice from his face. “Esha and I were more than a match for him.”

“He didn’t deserve it.” Esha’s voice was twisted with an old, bitter anger. “Sky never had what it took to lead us. He wouldn’t have had the courage to attack the Empire.”

“This has nothing to do with courage,” River said, so low I could barely hear him. “Unlike you, Sky wasn’t obsessed with revenge at any cost.”

“In fact, I couldn’t care less about revenge,” Esha said. “This is a preemptive strike. Do you truly think that the emperor won’t attempt to bind our powers again? Lozong despises us. He will take our magic, and then he will hunt us to extinction. The only way to ensure our survival is by reducing the Empire to ash. What I’m doing, everything that I’m doing, is for our people. Sky never would have thought that far ahead, because he wasn’t a leader. And neither are you.”

“I see.” River’s voice was almost as conversational as Thorn’s, though the shadows’ agitation had only grown. They were like living serpents at his feet. “So there was a reason you followed me here.”

Esha lifted his hand—in almost the same instant, River seized me and pushed me out of the way. But I was tired of being flung around, so I clung to him, and we rolled together down the slight slope as behind us the mountainside exploded, a tremendous crater opening as projectiles of stone soared in every direction. River was on his feet in an instant. In one smooth motion, he removed the kinnika from his neck and tossed them at me. I had only a second to marvel at this, though, before everything dissolved into chaos.

In a whirl of shadows and cloak, River was gone. The others vanished too, including the hawk, folding into the shadows that cloaked the narrow crag. The shadows became a tangled swirl, stirring my hair and chuba. I staggered back until I was pressed against the mountainside as the animate darkness surged and spun, churning up the snow.

“Wait,” I murmured to no one in particular. I had seen something, somewhere among the shadows. The star—River had dropped it, and it lay against the mountainside among the broken shards of rock. But to get it, I would have to plunge into that blizzard of darkness, and where would I go after that? I doubted the witches would remain distracted long enough for me to escape.

That was when a mad idea struck me.

“Azar-at,” I whispered. “Are you there?”

Yes, Kamzin, the creature murmured into my thoughts. It appeared at my side, tongue lolling.

“I need your help with something. Something big.”

Remember my promise.

“I don’t want to hurt River,” I said. “This won’t touch him in any way.”

That is good. The fire demon settled on its haunches. Friends should not fight.