The streets of Eskavord fell away below. Through the twin filters of inebriation and glass, Josiri made out the pitiful army on the muster field.

“Five hundred souls, no more,” Akadra bit out. “I’ve others waiting on the Kreska road. But Kai Saran has at least six thousand. Six thousand veterans of the border wars, and I have an army of children and old men! It’s not enough.”

He released his grip. Josiri wriggled free.

“Then leave!” he growled. “Run away north and leave us be!”

“Your sister gave the same advice. I’m glad to see you’ve something in common.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“That she has fire,” sneered Akadra. “You’re a spoilt child clinging to a worthless throne.”

The words hit home with the force of Viktor’s fist. “Why do you care?”

“Because I’ve no other recourse. I can save your lands, your subjects. But I need your help.”

Josiri laughed. “I’ve no help to give! I played the part of puppet too well. The ‘allies’ you’d have me deliver despise me for your catspaw!”

“And you yielded to their distrust.” Akadra snorted. “You are your mother’s son, even to the end.”

Anger solidified to cold fury. Akadra didn’t see the punch coming. His head snapped aside. He steadied himself against the window frame.

“You don’t get to speak of her,” snarled Josiri. “Not here.”

He struck Akadra again. The giant staggered. Blood showed at the corner of his mouth. He wiped it away. “What will you do otherwise? Plunge a knife into your heart, as she did?”

His words caught Josiri short. “That’s not how it happened! You murdered her!”

“With Lumestra as my witness, I did not. I offered her protection. But dying for a lost cause is easy. Living for one, with all the disappointments and hardships it brings? She hadn’t the stomach.” Akadra straightened and looked him up and down. “You’ve learnt her lessons well. I hope she’s proud.”

Again, Josiri swung. Akadra’s open palm took him across the face before the blow landed. Teeth rattled in Josiri’s jaw, and he dropped to one knee. Akadra’s hand clamped around his throat. His skin prickled with sudden cold. The windows darkened and the room passed into shadow.

“I sought to be your friend,” growled Akadra, “to mend the wounds between us for the good of your people. I no longer have that luxury. You will give me all that you have, or I will take it from you.”

Josiri clawed at the hand around his throat.

“You already have,” he gasped. “Where is Anastacia? What have you done to her?”

Akadra lurched back, his hand falling from Josiri’s throat. The darkness cleared, and warmth returned to the room.

“I gave her freedom, as I did you,” he said, his words stilted. “What she has done with it is no matter for me.”