I checked the list in front of me. “Meraya?” When she nodded, I continued: “The Imperial Palace is its own miniature island, with myriad tasks to tend to on a day-to-day basis.” I set the phoenix medallion off to the side and she didn’t look at it at all. I rattled off my pre-rehearsed list.

Her eyes narrowed only briefly before she attacked.

Neither Jovis nor I were quick enough to react. Her hand flung back and forward, something silver darting through the air. I checked myself instinctively before realizing: she hadn’t thrown her weapon at me. From behind me, Jovis groaned.

I didn’t dare take my eyes off Meraya. I kicked my chair back and ducked, pulling the cushion out from behind me and lifting it in front of my chest. A tiny dagger thunked into it. A heavy, staggering footstep sounded from behind me. Jovis. “Bing Tai!” I cried out.

My construct leapt to my defense.

Meraya seized the iron teapot as Bing Tai landed on the table, growling. She struck him across the jaw, sending the construct crashing to the ground. Hot tea splashed on the floor. I risked a glance back to find Jovis sprawled on the floor, unconscious. She must have poisoned him. He’d managed to pull the dagger free, and it lay on the floor next to him, its blade bloodied. Only then was I aware of the pounding of my heart. We were alone in this room, nothing between me and the assassin except one wooden table.

She drew a long, thin dagger from within her sleeve. “This won’t be slow,” she said. “But it won’t be as quick as you might like.” She took one deliberate step onto the table.

“Help!” I tore her poisoned dagger free of the pillow. I didn’t know how to fight. This woman clearly had training. I felt like I moved through a haze, everything around me dulled; the only bright things in the room were her face and her weapon. I could barely breathe past my fear. I needed Thrana’s help, but she was still in the courtyard with Mephi. “Why?” I asked her, hoping to buy myself time.

“I know the stories,” Meraya said. “You won’t let me live. This is the right thing to do; I know it is. This is for me. This is for Chari.”

What was she talking about? She darted toward me. I lifted the pillow in a futile attempt to block the full force of her blow.

And then something thrummed inside me. I let it wash over me without thinking. It was stronger than the night before, like some sleeping creature had awoken, breaking bonds that had once held it captive. I threw the pillow at her with such force that it burst open, showering the table with feathers.