Thrana and I plunged through the ranks of war beasts and constructs and my world shrank to stinking masses of fur, to shining teeth, to eyes flashing in the darkness. I barely noticed when the edge of a tooth caught at my shoulder, or a claw tore at my oilskin cloak. Nisong thought herself skilled with bone shard magic? Well, I had been up against Bayan, I had taken down my father’s four greatest constructs, I had faced Shiyen Sukai himself and claimed his title. No matter that Nisong and I were meant to be the same person. I’d worked at this longer than she had.

I caught a glimpse in the sky, something white fluttering away from the palace. An owl? A spy construct, taking news of the battle to Nisong? Or was she here in the fray?

I turned Thrana toward the switchbacks, to where the fighting was the thickest and where they needed me the most. Gradually, I sensed a breaking in the ranks of the constructs, subtle as the stars winking out to give way to dawn. I found fewer war constructs to turn. The fighting around me seemed not so pressing.

We could do this. We could hold the army off at the gates. If we fought them to a standstill, I could convince the other islands to take our side. I could hold the Empire together.

A roar like a crashing wave emerged from the night. Trees groaned and cracked in the distance.

I found my fingers tightening. More constructs? Had she held back a contingent of her army? Why? What sort of strategy was this?

A hush fell over the fighting as the sound of wood breaking stopped, replaced by a rushing sound, like wind or water, loud enough to hear over the clash of metal. Dread filled me, spilled over the edges. The sound grew louder, an approaching storm. A war construct leapt toward us and Thrana batted it aside. I was paralyzed on her back, waiting for the doom I somehow knew was coming.

What had Nisong done?

The rushing sound stopped.

The enormous head of a fully grown sea serpent rose from the slopes, each tooth as long as my arm.

48

Jovis

Gaelung Island

Ragan’s blade hovered next to my throat. I felt it press against my skin as I swallowed. “I’ll make a note of that for next time,” I said. “The whole making sure you’re dead thing.”

The monk’s lips didn’t even twitch.

I kept talking, hoping to buy myself a little time. “I know about your old monastery. No one had heard from them in over a year before Unta sank.”

“I don’t like you,” Ragan said, “but we don’t have to be enemies.”

“You attacked the Emperor. We are already enemies. What did you do to them? Did you murder them?”