It was a cave! The wind instantly quieted as darkness pulled over her head like a blanket. It wasn’t very deep. She could barely stand up straight, and an old pile of dry scat hugged the wall near the entrance. Something had used this as a den once, probably one of the big mountain cats. Now it was her den. Her secret place.

With her back to the wall, she slid to the ground. Her belly hurt almost as much as her hip, from terrible emptiness, but there was nothing she could do about that. Not until the monster’s men were long gone.

She huddled against the cave wall, tired beyond all understanding, but she wasn’t sleepy. So she didn’t understand why her vision was going black, why the world was disappearing. The girl fought to stay conscious. Something important troubled her thoughts as she pulled the cloak from the basket. There was something Mamá would have wanted her to do before she slept. She would remember it any moment, if she could just keep herself from falling. . . .

4

Now

THE Quorum of Five council chamber lies in the very center of the palace, in a sacred space centuries old. It’s low ceilinged and windowless, with walls made of bulging river rock and thick mortar, draped on all sides by tapestries displaying the sigils of the major countships. Flames flicker from sconces set into the mortar between tapestries. On the floor is a low table, made of a single oaken slab with remnants of bark still clinging to the edges. It’s surrounded by red velvet sitting cushions.

The meeting room is hot, airless, and utterly quiet. Elisa is speaking to Hector as we enter. “Did you see Ariña? Standing beside Lady Malka. Looking smug.”

“Why did we give her a pardon?” Hector says, his voice so taut with quiet fury it scares me.

“We didn’t. The chamber of condes did. It’s been the better part of a decade. Her friends assured us that she regrets opposing me, that she suffered enough in exile. If she weren’t Queen Cosmé’s sister, I’d—”

The double doors thunk shut, and the bolt slides home. I feel safer than I have in weeks.

It’s like being in a cave.

Elisa plops onto one of the cushions. Little Mena crawls into her lap, and the empress absently strokes her daughter’s hair. “So,” Elisa begins. “What went wrong?”

Hector’s fist crashes to the table, which is the kind of thing that usually startles me, but at the moment I think it’s impossible for me to be any more tense or alert to danger. “We had the votes. We had them.” He looks around at everyone, his face grave. “We were betrayed. What happened to Captain Bolivar? He was supposed to vouch.”

Lord-Commander Dante of the Royal Guard speaks in a quiet voice that is more menacing than any shout. “He’d better be dead, because that is the only excuse I will accept. My best men are searching for him—or his body—right now.”