Author’s Note: I had two scenes, one with Gekin and Anokii and one with Anokii and Agache, that had been in between the last scene and this one. I cut them because I thought it gave too much emphasis to a subplot that had gone too far as it was.

If it really doesn’t make sense go to from that one to this one, though, I might need to add them back in.

“I want you to go.”

The queen frowned, turning around. She shook her head, not sure what Agache thought he was doing here, but he needed to leave. “I am not having this discussion with you again, and not now. I am sorry, but the king is supposed to send for me, and Malzhi was glaring at me so much that I feel certain that he is coming. I know you think that I should go where it is safe, but it is not—now is not the time. I cannot leave, and I cannot—I must stay and fight this time. If Malzhi is at last going to force what he has attempted to seduce, I must be ready.”

Agache cursed, coming toward her. “If you think that I could leave you to fight that alone, you do not know me at all, Jis.”

She gave him a slight smile. “I never thought—that is, I know what sort of man you are. I know what you would do to protect all of your people, and I am not ungrateful, but no. You cannot stay. If you are seen here, it will ruin all that we have worked for. You know that as well as I do.”

He pushed back his hood, placing his hand on her cheek. “It is past time for me to reveal myself and be the target that I must be. You must let me do it. Go home. Be safe.”

She frowned. “If you are going to suggest that it is right to risk your life and not mine, you had better not say that it is because I am a woman. I will hurt you.”

“It is not because you are a woman.”

“It isn’t?”

His lips curved into a smile. “I suppose I would be lying if I said that it had nothing to do with you being a woman. It is not as though that is a fact that either of us can deny.”

She felt herself flush. The way he said that made her think that he was going to repeat what he’d done the night of the eclipse, and she was ashamed of how much she wanted that to happen. She almost turned away, she knew that she should, but she did not know that she was strong enough to deny them both what they wanted.

Her door slammed open, wood cracking against the stone, and her eyes flew to the back of the chamber, drawing a breath as she tried to see who had entered. Malzhi or the king? Either one was disastrous. Perhaps if it was the king, if things went too far, they could convince someone that Malzhi had killed him, but if Malzhi died, that would leave no one to plot against the king. They needed to be made to destroy each other, and she thought it would not happen, not if only one of them came. If Malzhi pursued her, if she was forced to act in her defense, then all might be lost.

“Where are you?”

Malzhi. She felt sick, but she was more worried about Agache. She did not think he had left, and that was not something that she could allow—he was the one both sides would need to see them through after the king and Malzhi were eliminated, stability and a familiar voice, even if he was not their leader. Having him once again involved in governing the people would be necessary if the kingdom were not to fall into complete chaos after the king was removed from the throne.

“Don’t answer him. Come with me. I can show you a path to—”

“Go,” she hissed at Agache, trying to shove him away, but she feared that it was too late. Malzhi might already have seen him beside her.

“I should have known.”

“Known what? That you are quite unwelcome here? Yes, I would have thought you would have realized that by now, but somehow you manage not to hear me when I say no. Go away, Malzhi. The king will not want to know that you are here, even if you were not the one to poison us—”

“Oh, my dear lady, don’t you know by now that I know it was you who arranged that? Do not be a fool. You thought no one would suspect you if you drank it, too, but you did not trick everyone. You did not fool me. I have waited long enough for what I want, and unless you want the king to kill you, you will give it to me.”

“He will kill me if I do, and you cannot prove your accusation. Get out.”

“You were deceived by the maid. The worm got you to do it. Tell him that, and you might live.”

She snorted. “I would not be so foolish as to believe that, even were it true. I will not lie. No one deceived me. I will not trade my body for your protection, either. Go. You will not get me to agree.”

“If you insist upon that course—”

“Don’t you dare touch me. I’ll kill you first.”

“You do not frighten me.”

“If she does not, perhaps I will,” Agache said, moving behind Malzhi. The minister jerked, looking behind him. “It has been amusing, watching your clumsy attempts to subdue one woman, but I tire of your ineptitude.”

“You… You’re supposed to be dead.”

“So am I a spirit risen from the dead or am I not dead? If I am not dead, am I now employed by the king—if I am not, why would he have allowed me to live? Do you have an answer? If you do not, I fear that you will not be able to act as is necessary.”

“Spirit or not, I shall take great pleasure in killing you.”

“You will fail in the attempt.”

The queen withdrew her blade, waiting for the right moment to intervene.

Author’s Note: I may like dancing too much. Not that I get much of a chance to do it or am any good at it, but there is a beauty to the motions that makes me want to use it in fiction, and one thing I wanted this story to have was a shared dance… even if I knew the dancers shouldn’t be together.

“You’re supposed to be up with the crowds in the courtyard, not down here.”

“The king made me leave,” the queen said, sitting down, and Agache turned around to face her, frowning. Anokii did not much like the other woman’s tone, thinking it too much like when the queen had just killed Omamhi and was not aware of what was around her. Was it the king that had done this? Was it Malzhi? Or had this come from something else?

“How bad is it?”

“If the bindings were real, I suspect I might well be dead now,” the queen said, closing her eyes. “As it is, I believe he was satisfied with leaving me on my knees gasping and begging to go to my room if I displeased him so much. Bagquin. He was just poisoned. I do not see why he would have to be so vicious.”

“That is the way he is. He had to prove that he was still strong and that you were still his. Perhaps it was even intended as a warning if he was even the slightest bit suspicious that you had a part in poisoning him.”

Anokii examined the other woman’s throat. “He managed to get those bindings tight enough to leave a mark. He should have expected you dead. Why would he let you go?”

“Sometimes he is not as angry so long as I beg,” the queen said, taking a deep breath.

“He is a fool. Not to sound like Malzhi, but if the king were smart, he would not want to hear you beg but to see you in motion—to see you dance,” Agache said, and the queen snorted. He smiled at her, and Anokii saw Gekin frown.

“It was almost a relief to have the king send me away. I would rather not be in attendance for any longer than necessary,” the queen said, shaking her head, but she did seem to be moving with the music coming down from the rooms above them.

“I will repeat myself, even knowing how unwelcome the words were the last time—I can send you away now if you’d rather not stay.”

The queen blinked. “Excuse me? Again with packing me off to my homeland? I thought we had settled this matter. Why must you always—”

“You are tired. You weren’t supposed to come here. The king gave you leave, so take it. Go back to your room and rest.”

“You’re sending me away again? Is this because of the other night?”

Agache stiffened. “No. That is—I told you that was the eclipse. Nothing more. We should not discuss it again. We agreed to forget it, didn’t we? So that must be done, and we must do it soon. Would that we could change things or undo them or simply forget with ease…”

“We do not know such mercy.” The queen’s eyes darkened, but she raised her head, defiant. “I noticed that Malzhi did not dare approach me or the king. I do not know if he will try and convince the king that he did not do it or if he will be forced to make it a coup. It is difficult to know.”

“Point, counterpoint. If Malzhi does not move, he will be eliminated,” Agache said, and the queen watched him, waiting for more. Anokii thought there was much left unsaid here, and she did not like it. She felt Gekin touch her arm, and she knew he had noticed as well.

“Or point, counterpoint, point. Malzhi accuses me, and we all die.”

“That is not how it is. You know how footwork is, how it paces itself, balances itself. Malzhi cannot make an accusation when you were poisoned as well. He cannot prove anything. He looks guilty. He must act.”

“Are you that confident in your plan? If you are, why did you want me to go?”

Agache faced her. Anokii knew that neither of them had any true comprehension of whether or not anyone was around them. He stepped forward, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I am confident of nothing. You saw me lose control when the eclipse happened, and you have suffered because of my plans, and I not sure why you think you want to stay. Revenge means nothing if one does not live to see it, and that may well happen with a situation like this.”

She reached up, resting her palms against his cheeks. “I am not going to be locked away, and I will not let you discard me, either. I am still your ally. You need to be willing to listen to me as well as use me, and yet you seem to struggle with doing that.”

“You seem to struggle with knowing when you should stop.”

“Was that point or counterpoint?”

He laughed, looking down. “I’d say… counterpoint given your current stance, but I could be mistaken. Let us try another step. You think Malzhi is plans to regain favor? Why should he bother?”

“I think they would rather kill me than each other.”

“No, Malzhi wants more from you.”

Anokii had not understood at first, but the more they spoke, the more they moved, and yes, they had started in to that strange dance he called footwork, something that went with being a swordsman, an art the king had trained him in until Agache showed too much promise at it. If he could defend himself, if he was a threat, then he would have to die. He should have been dead so many times…

He was looking to have himself killed here, now. If anyone besides her and Gekin saw him with the queen, he would be dead. This dance was not just a revelation of their respective skills. Feelings had been exposed as well.

“Malzhi will not get what he wants.”

“No.”

“It will not happen.”

“Never.”

The queen smiled, and Agache stopped their dance, his hand going to her face. “Be careful, my esibani. You are still at risk, and you have done enough tonight. Please go back to your room and rest.”

“Will you tell me what you are planning?”

“Soon.”

“Liar.”

Agache smiled, lifting his cloak and walking away. The queen cursed him, stamping her foot before leaving in the other direction.

Author’s Note: So any conversation after their last interaction was bound to be awkward. And painful.

“I believe you are aware that there is to be a party tonight.”

“And you came to speak to me about that yourself?” She did not know that she kept the bitterness from her voice. She thought she must show so much even if he could not yet see her face. Agache should not have come. “Why not send Anokii?”

“Do… Would you prefer that after what happened?”

The queen closed her eyes, trying to control her emotions. She could not be so foolish. She knew her place. She knew his place. They were not together, and they would not be, not now, not ever. Whatever that moment between them was, it was to be forgotten and ignored as they went on in their separate lives. “I suppose that depends on how much of a distraction such a thing is.”

Agache’s steps were careful as he drew closer, soft and almost hesitant. “It… The eclipse happens only twice a year, Jis. What I did was foolish, but such madness is not… typical of me. I have already said that I should not be forgiven, and I am still not going to ask for it. I came, in part, to see if it was possible for us to continue our work, or if we should have an intermediary at all times. I can send word through Anokii or Gekin or anyone else if you should prefer it.”

A part of her thought that was for the best, that if she did not see him, she could avoid rousing such feelings as were stirred the night before, but another part of her was desperate to have even what little time with him as she might. This was almost done, and if they were forced to speak through intermediaries, how would they finish it? Surely they could behave as they should until they had removed the king and Malzhi from power. “It was just the eclipse?”

His hood bobbed as he nodded. “I assure you—I have not—I know what you are, and I know the position that put you in, and that is not something I would have done were I thinking properly. It is said that many youthful follies can be traced to the nights of the eclipse, even some lives, and I see now that there is truth to those legends.”

“Oh.”

“I do not mean to offend you. We both know that the situation is… impossible. It is better if there is nothing of that sort between us. We are not—you are the queen. You are married to my cousin. I am not Malzhi. I do not know why I behaved so contrary to my nature except… I must say that it was the eclipse.”

She nodded. He had not treated her as Malzhi had, nor shown any interest in her that was beyond what they should have as allies. Concern, friendship, but no more, not before last night. She found him amusing and infuriating, and sometimes she thought she might hurt him because he was so infuriating, but what she felt—it was curiosity, nothing more. She’d given some thought to someone she might give herself to rather than let Malzhi or the king have her, and Agache was the only man she knew that she’d come close to considering for such a thing, but that was because she had contact with no one else. Of course this situation confused things. She had few people to trust, and if she were to imagine herself feeling anything for anyone, it would be Agache since he was the only man she knew that did not repulse her or was not married or in another country, like Wikan. Gekin seemed a very admirable man, but his heart was Anokii’s, and that was not something she could interfere with, nor did she want to.

“Sometimes I think we think the most foolish thoughts. I do, at least. A product of feeling so trapped. I have considered things that I would not think were I free.”

“Were you free, I doubt you’d have any need to dream of ways to be so, no matter how small they might be,” Agache said, almost as though he knew what she’d been thinking. “It does not help having me stumble, causing more problems.”

She sighed. “I do not know that you can be the only one who is to blame for what happened during the eclipse. I did not force you away, after all.”

“Perhaps it affected you, too,” he said, and she thought he was smiling under that hood. “The eclipse has passed, and let us hope this… awkwardness will as well. We shall return to our roles and our duties and not think of this again. The king will expect you to be by his side tonight. He may well intend to prove that he is not weakened by the poison. He may hurt you, but I hope all he will do is keep you beside him and watch you.”

“That is not much of a hope.”

“I know. If I had some sort of reassurance—”

“What are you planning? You said you’d come to discuss it with me but the eclipse distracted you, and you did not—”

“I must give that matter more thought. I cannot be certain of the right course at present, not after…”

She knew he would doubt his judgment after what they’d done, and she knew she did not trust herself, either. “Where will you be?”

“Gekin and Anokii should meet me in the catacombs later, since I must… I am going to meet with the other leaders of the resistance soon, and there are a few instructions that I would pass on before I leave.”

“You’re leaving?”

“I must go.”

She swallowed. She did not want to think about why she wanted him to stay. They both knew it was best if he did go. They would not be tempted again. “I… Yes, of course. I should not have been so foolish as to think you never traveled. You were called away from your last trip, and you have… been here too long, I must assume.”

“The court was my place, has always been so, and I have perhaps lingered for too extended a time out of… a need for that comfort. I also tend behave as a man that does not answer to anyone, and that is not true. I am not the sole leader of the resistance, I never have been, and I should not do so much on my own—it has been nothing but a failure.”

“That is not true.”

“You are too forgiving, my lady, and you should watch that, for I am not the sort that deserves it.” Agache tugged on his cloak’s sleeve, turning away from her. He began to pace, talking as he did. “Malzhi should not attend this party, but he may, and if he does, he may make a move against the king. It could be quite dangerous for you.”

“Everything I do is dangerous.”

Agache stopped and put a hand on her arm. She almost winced. He should not touch her, not now, not when they had made such a mistake during the eclipse. “I have told you that we can send you across the border. Things are close to an end, and Malzhi and the king will be at war before the king can turn on your people. Go. Just go.”

She thought perhaps she should go, too, but that was a galling thing to admit. She had failed in so many ways, and she would return home in shame no matter what happened with the king now. “Who will watch the court while you are gone?”

“Anokii.”

“Am I only a tool to you? Now you send me away when I am no longer useful to you?”

“Only a fool allows his most valuable tools to be broken. It is best if you are safe.”

She shoved his hand off her arm. She should not have asked, but even so, his words still stung. “You are such a liar. Go then. Leave me. I have much to do before the party tonight.”

Author’s Note: This scene… Oh, I went back and forth about it. On the one hand, things seemed to have been leading to this point. On the other, it was not what I wanted because I felt that it went too far. In the end, I decided to keep it, because while in part it was too far, it also… wasn’t.

Or, in other words, I’m still a bit neurotic about this decision, but it is… It allowed me to finish the story, and that is important.

“Jis.”

“You need to stop coming into my room at night—or at what passes for night in this horrid place,” she said, grunting as she turned over to face Agache. She swore that she had just closed her eyes when he came in, and she was still feeling the effects of the poison, still tired and weak, needing this slumber. “One of these days, I’ll just stab you.”

He laughed, and she sighed, tempted to hit him. She knew that he had to come and go in the late hours of the day, not just because of the heat but also because of the work he was up to, but he needed to stop coming just after she fell asleep. She could not help being annoyed by that.

“Come with me,” he said, holding out a hand, and she rose, reaching for her robe and pulling it over her nightgown before she accepted his hand.

“If you wanted to talk to me in the catacombs, why did you not send word? I would have met you there, and you would not be waking me now.”

“I am not taking you to the catacombs,” he said, crossing to the curtain that shut out the sun. She frowned as he opened it, shaking her head. He had gone insane. He would burn, having his head exposed like that, and he could not be more foolish if he tried. “This happens twice a year. Both days are our favorites, though we have yet to predict them accurately. It is rather… funny. My cousins were just hoping for something like this, but I did not know until I came into your room that it had happened.”

She found herself smiling as she stepped toward the balcony, welcoming the night, a true night with no sun. “An eclipse.”

“Yes. Darkness. We cannot help but enjoy such times, such nights. Were we able to predict them, I would take advantage of them, execute some sort of plan, but it surprised me again. I shall simply bask in the darkness instead. Anokii told me to enjoy it, after all.”

“You already are, judging from the way you are glowing. You should not be celebrating this moment here, though. What if someone sees you on my balcony?”

“They will not recognize me,” he said, and then he sighed. “Though you are correct—I should not put anyone at risk by being here. I just know how much you miss the night, and since it means so much to us, I shared it with you.”

“I am in your debt. Again.”

He shook his head. “Any debt has been negated by your efforts to assist us. We are allies, and allies should not stop to count the cost. If they do, that is when the alliance breaks. It should not be uneven, no, but if all one thinks about is whether or not it is equal, it is bound to fail. Sometimes there will be inequality. That is how life works. It is rarely fair or just.”

“Here, perhaps, but in other places there is greater balance and more freedom.”

“Were you ever free? You were esibani. You were bred to a purpose and forced to fill it. What freedom is there in that?”

“Everyone has a duty, and mine was not so intolerable until I was sent here,” she said, for she knew he did not understand the ways of her people. Her life had not been all duty, and she was free for a great many hours of the day. Her training had made her feel so close to flying at times, and she took comfort in the dance that was footwork. “When I was there, the only thing I resented was that long ago our people gave up their wings and stopped flying. That has been my longing all my life, to fly as the avians do, to soar through the sky and dance in the heavens.”

“You do seem meant to fly,” he told her, and she blinked, not sure why he’d say that. Was it that look of avian that Malzhi claimed she had? She did not see it herself. “I saw you when you were practicing your footwork. You could have soared then, as light and agile as you were, and I thought you would at one point. Then you heard me and threw your knife—far too accurately for my liking.”

She smiled. “I was trained for defense. It serves me well these days.”

“Of course.”

She’d thought in the darkness he couldn’t be burned, but she would swear that he was, other than the fact that he was still lit with his people’s natural phosphorescence. That didn’t seem right, not if he was burning in the sunlight creeping past the eclipse. “Your glow has shifted colors. I didn’t know you could do that.”

He grimaced, pushing back his sleeve and wincing as he saw the reddish tint to his skin. “It goes with our emotions, and I should be embarrassed to have mine betray so much.”

“I do not know what it means. You need not be embarrassed with me.”

He bowed to her. “Thank you for that. Now I think I should go before you find out.”

She laughed. “What could possibly be so terrible? You do not care for the color? I suppose it creates some bad memories of being in the sun—”

He hadn’t moved, she would have sworn he hadn’t moved, but he must have because his mouth had met hers, and she could feel the light from him on her skin even as she wondered at what was happening. She knew what a kiss was, of course, and even if she hadn’t, Malzhi and even the king had made sure she did not long ago, but this—Agache—was different. He was gentle even as he was insistent, taking more and more from her, but she gave it gladly and without revulsion, wanting more as much as he did, unlike when Malzhi had caught hold of her or when she experienced the cruelty inflicted by the king.

Agache stepped back, cursing in his native tongue. “I shouldn’t have come. I… It was… I did not come here to do that, I swear I did not. I had something of a plan to discuss with you and then—All I meant was to show you the eclipse, and I did, but how could I have—Please forget that I ever did that. It was… It was the eclipse. It can make us do things we know that we should not do. I have put you at considerable risk by coming here, and if anyone saw that… I’m sorry. I am going now.”

“Agache—”

“You are the queen. You are a married woman. I cannot—The king could kill you for that, and you should not forgive me for it.”

He was over her balcony and gone before he’d finished speaking, and she closed her eyes, shaking her head. That moment was one that had its roots back in their travels together, something she had thought only a foolish curiosity about the sort of man hiding under that cloak of his, but she had been drawn to him even then, perhaps out of desperation since he was the only one she knew coming into this land, and having been his ally, working with him and knowing his secrets and her his… Oh, how could they have been so stupid?

How had they allowed themselves even the thought of such a thing? She did not know how to ignore the way she felt, but she must. She could not do this. She was the queen.

She was the queen because she was married to the king. She wasn’t allowed to love someone else, and damn her for thinking she had might feel something for someone else. She could not love Agache. Even if the king were to fall when this was all over, such a thing was wrong. It was impossible.

She had to forget it, as he had asked. She would forget it. Perhaps not tonight—she felt a bit burned where he’d touched her, and her lips still tasted of him—but she would. She crossed to the water dish, pouring herself a glass and washing the taste of him off her lips and tongue, wishing she could as easily rinse the sin away with that same water. She cursed, her grip tightening on the glass before she hurled it at the wall and the tears started.

Author’s Note: Leaders should question their judgment. Some of them need to, since they’re not always right. Some of them never do, and people suffer. Some others might question things just a bit too much.

“The people are worried.”

Agache nodded to Gekin’s words, and Anokii frowned at him. Despite his promise to the queen, she did not think her cousin had gotten much rest. He, of course, had no bed to call his own, not anymore, and he had no servants to keep him as undisturbed as possible. If he had been down here trying to recover, he would have gotten little from it. She did not know if he could have tried to use his old rooms, but perhaps he should have after being wounded and spending so long watching over the queen, waiting for her to regain consciousness.

“They are afraid of Malzhi starting a war.”

“They should be. If he does, it will be long and bloody, and the Nebkasha will die.”

“And yet you provoked this.”

Agache leaned back against the walls of the catacombs, closing his eyes. “One war is better than two, and I think if the king and Malzhi were to come into direct confrontation, it would end in one inevitable way.”

“If the king kills Malzhi—”

“They will eliminate each other.”

Anookii knelt next to him. “Are you saying that because when Malzhi confronts and possibly weakens the king, you intend to finish what he has started, letting it look as though Malzhi had done it? Is that your plan?”

Agache shook his head. “If I did that, we would only replace two tyrants with a third. I do not dare cause any bloodshed, not if I can help it. Even just the simplest of fights stirs too much of a longing, a desire to kill, than should ever be allowed.”

“You have always ignored that call before.”

He lowered his head. “I think it is for the best that I have been injured, keeping me limited in what I can do. Were I not, the things I would do to the king before I allowed him the mercy he denied me…”

She touched his cheek. “Look at me. You are not that man. You have dark thoughts—we all do—but you are not the monster the king is, and you never will be.”

“I think I am. Look at what I have done to the queen—and that was by accident. I am not fit to do anything. Go ask the others what should be done now that I have condemned us all to death. I do not have a solution, not this time.”

Anokii shook her head, leaning toward him. “You know that you do. You are capable of much more than this. Go to the other leaders and ask them if they feel you have done poorly. I doubt they will agree. They would push you for more of what you have already done.”

He let out a breath. “I think I must try again to send the queen home. It may be what we need after all. If she is not here, the king will try and ready himself for war with her people. Malzhi will see it as his time to make a move.”

“If the troops are on the march in the suns, they will be vulnerable. Malzhi would be wise to strike then,” Gekin said. He shook his head. “I cannot like it much, not when I know that not every soldier is there by choice, and they had to endure much to survive their training.”

Agache folded his hands together. “I do not care for any of my suggestions. I don’t like risking the lives of others. At least with the soldiers, they are trained. They know that their lives are in danger. They will face what comes, if the attack does come, and some may even be grateful, having been spared the invasion.”

“Not all of them.”

“No.” Agache rubbed his neck. “It would be simpler if everyone hated the king. It would be easier if they did. If it were so, none would aid him. He would sputter out orders that no one would fulfill. He would accomplish nothing. The trouble is that people will listen and obey him and do the terrible things he asks of them. As they do me.”

Gekin cursed. “I think it is time you stopped this. Go to the queen and tell her of your idea. Let her decide if it is so terrible and if she is willing to do it. What I would not give for an eclipse—or at least something to make you act sensible.”

“You need to rest and heal,” Anokii said, taking hold of her cousin’s hand. “Promise me that as soon as you have seen the queen, you will.”

“I do not know that I should speak to her tonight.”

“I do not know that you can wait.”

He sighed. “I feel… strange. I might continue to—Oh. I suppose you two would like some privacy as well? I can go, if that is what you require, though if you were to have your wish regarding the eclipse, you might enjoy each other’s company in a room for a change.”

Anokii pulled him to his feet. “Where and how we enjoy an eclipse, should one come, is our affair. You must see to yours. Speak to the queen. Let us end this before you have exhausted yourself. And if there is an eclipse… Enjoy it. You need the strength it will give you.”

He grunted. “We don’t know when or if they will come, and if they do… they are always too short. And foolish things happen when they come, or have you forgotten that as well?”

Anokii shook her head. “No. I haven’t. We would have welcomed that child had it survived.”

Agache cursed, lifting his hood. “I did not mean to upset you, cousin. I… Forgive me. I will finish this and you will have your home where you can be together always, where you can try again for children. I want you to have that.”

“I know,” she said, for he had always tried to provide for them, had tried to send them over the border as well, but they had been stubborn. She looked to Gekin, and he managed a small smile despite the evening’s discomfort. She sighed. “That, however, is not yours to promise, even if you lead the resistance.”

“What is all this worth if you have nothing when it is over?”

“Gekin and I have each other. That has always been enough for us.”

Author’s Note: They are both very stubborn. Or perhaps a bit weak. It’s all in the perspective, truthfully.

“Jis.”

“I am too weak to hit you, but do not think that I won’t when I regain my strength,” she warned, not sure why Agache’s laughter was comforting. Perhaps it was the way he touched her face and brushed her hair back. His touch was rather gentle, and she found his gestures soothing, things she missed in her isolation. She had never thought that she would be so desperate to feel anyone’s touch at all, and she wouldn’t want it after Malzhi or the king, but from someone like Agache or Anokii, someone who watched over her and cared for her, it was different. She was not threatened by them as she was by the king or Malzhi or any of the other ministers. Agache had called himself a friend. A friend’s touch after what she had just suffered, that meant so much to her.

She could almost imagine she was back with her mother to care for her, to let her know that she was loved, and so she would have pretended had she woken to Anokii and not to Agache.

“I am glad to hear you awake to threaten me.”

“You should not be.”

“The poison was stronger than we thought. It must have been because you come from another land, have a different heritage… I thought we might have killed you, and that I would never forgive myself for,” he said, guilt in his face. “I think we must send you back across the border.”

“What? Didn’t it work? I thought the whole point was—”

“Malzhi has been accused of the poisoning. There are not many who believe he is innocent. In fact, I doubt anyone does. If they are loyal to him now, it is because they are prepared to support his coup. It is time for you to go.”

She pushed her hand against the bed, forcing herself up so that she could look at him. “Then… What are you not telling me? Why are trying to make me leave?”

“You are not safe here. You need to leave. It is nothing more than that.”

“Liar.”

Agache placed his hand on her cheek. “How many times have I almost killed you? I do not think you should stay. Now is perhaps our last chance to get you safely across the border, and you should take it. There is not much time left. We will not be able to take you once everyone knows that you have recovered.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Agache frowned. “Why are you refusing to go? I thought that you wanted nothing more than to be free. You can be. You can return home. This alliance has served us well, but this fight is not yours. It has always been ours, and we will finish it.”

“I am not the sort that runs away in fear. I did not before, and I will not now.” She almost laughed. Where was this coming from? Had she been so close to death as to terrify him, was that it? He could not stand to see her come close again? Why had he not sent her back after the first time the king used the bindings against her? He had asked, she supposed, but he had not done it. “After all I went through at Malzhi’s hands, at the king’s, you truly think that I can walk away before it is finished? Before I see them pay? You cannot be that much of a fool. I deserve to see that, and I will not be denied it.”

“You are so stubborn.”

“So are you.”

He watched her, and she watched him, neither of them moving for a long moment. She thought she saw something in his eyes, but as soon as she prepared herself to ask, she heard Anokii moving on the other side of the room, and they both turned toward the sound.

“I am glad to see that you are awake, my lady.”

Agache rose, walking away from the bed and joining his cousin near the wall. The queen let her gaze fall to the bed. She did not know how to look at either of them, not after the thoughts that had gone through her head. She shook her head, reaching for the bedpost, using it to balance her as she stood. She did not feel all that well.

“You should not be walking yet.”

“Anokii, please, do not lecture me. I do not want to hear it,” she said, moving to the next bedpost. She leaned against it, closing her eyes. If she was too weak before them, they would conspire to send her back, and she did not want to go. Not yet. She had too much left to do before she returned to father’s castle, and she knew that she needed to prove that she could do it.

“You are going to make yourself ill again,” Agache said, annoyed, wrapping an arm around her waist and trying to lead her back to the bed. “You are not yet ready to resume dancing, my esibani. Let yourself rest and recover.”

“I do not want to rest. You will send me home.”

Anokii frowned. “I know that the king is still recovering, but that is not—sending her back will mean war as soon as he is out of bed, and you should know that he is stirring. That is what I came to tell you just now. The rumors say that he will be awake by morning, if not out of bed. Of course, that could be the physician bragging, but if it is true, then it is already too late to send the queen away.”

“See?” The queen asked, looking up at Agache with an almost triumphant smile. “You cannot make me go.”

He sighed. “I should. You have been hurt too many times already.”

She laughed. Her head hit his chest, and she tried to straighten herself up, but she was too tired to stand properly. She would have to sit, but she did not want to sit. Sitting was too close to lying down, and if she laid down, then she would be forced to stay in bed. She would rather stay where she was.

“You need to rest.”

The queen grimaced. “Anokii—”

“I was talking to him. He has not left your side since you collapsed.”

The queen lifted her head, smiling at Agache. So she had scared him. She rather thought he deserved that and perhaps a bit more. “You are so stubborn.”

“So are you.” He grinned, and she wondered how often they might say those words to each other, if they would enter into every conversation they shared from now on.

She looked at his face, knowing his fatigue was worse than it seemed, and what she could see was more than enough. “I’ll rest if you do.”

“Very well.”

Author’s Note: I decided this morning to add this scene. I had skipped to where the poison’s effect on the queen ended, but I thought it was good to have them discuss a few things first.

“The apaak was stronger than I realized.”

Agache did not lift his head, not looking up from the awkward position he had assumed at the queen’s bedside. “Gekin, tell her this is not her fault.”

Gekin brushed back some hair from Anokii’s face, cupping her cheek, and she did not know how to react. His touch soothed her—it wanted to soothe her—but she had made a terrible mistake, and it had almost cost the queen her life. Even now the woman did not stir. The king would wake soon, but the queen… she might not. Not ever. “He is right. I know you did not do this.”

“I made both mixtures.”

“Perhaps the queen took more than we thought because she wanted it to look convincing,” Agache said, his eyes going to the woman on the bed. “She is that kind of stubborn, and she was annoyed with my instructions—that is what you must blame, not yourself. You can blame my desperate plan, nothing else. I am the one that caused all of this.”

Gekin grunted. “No one can create a perfect plan or see it go into practice. You cannot control what anyone else will do, even if we agree to follow your orders. There is a point at which we all think for ourselves, and you are correct—the queen could have drank more of the poison on purpose.”

Agache frowned. “You don’t think she… You do not believe she intended to take her own life? I do not know that I gave enough consideration to that possibility. She seems so… strong. She was not willing to return to her homeland, even if it would keep her safe, she did not turn away from the crowd or the punishment the king gave her afterward, so why would she do so now?”

“She has mentioned an inequality in the past—that you are willing to risk your life for our goals. You say it should not be her.”

“Yet it has been. Every time so far, it has been. You would think I was my cousin the way I have caused her to suffer.”

Gekin shook his head. “No. You have remorse, if nothing else, and your cousin lacks that completely. You know… for as much as he banned us from using our names, as much as he treats us as though we are the worms Malzhi calls us, he has taken his own name from himself. He made everyone too afraid to use it. He made himself a monster, not a man, and there is no way to call him by a name and return any level of kindness to him.”

Agache let out a breath. “There never has been such a quality to him. No, this is… Can we move her, do you think? Can she be taken back to her homeland?”

“No. She’s too weak. Traveling would kill her, especially if any of it were done in the twin suns. She needs to recover some before such an attempt is made,” Anokii said. She frowned. “Why do you want to do this now? She is still a part of your plans, isn’t she?”

“She should not be.”

“Nevertheless, she is, and she is not ready for travel. If there are other tasks to be done while she and the king are ill, then do it, but you must wait for anything you’d ask of her.”

Agache pushed himself to his feet. “I would only ask her to go. No more than that. She has done enough, and I will not put her at risk again. Malzhi must be readying his followers now, doing what he can to protect himself, and there is little I can do about that—little I would do, for I would hardly encourage the growth of his ranks. Yet, at the same time… I must allow it to happen. Malzhi must have time to think he can accomplish his coup. Perhaps if there was a fool stupid enough to attempt to finish what the apaak started—”

“He would die. He will die. Such an act would be suicide—for him and whatever faction he is a part of. Do not send anyone to—you were not thinking of yourself, were you?”

Agache looked at his arm. “No. I was not. While I might have more success in ending the king’s life than most, it is also possible that I would aid his healing when I went there. If my presence, the Gichikane in me, wakens him, he will recover faster. I do not think we can risk that. We must let Malzhi act. If I were not so limited by what I am, by this cursed blood within me—”

“You are not cursed. You have done much good in spite of that blood. Do not forget that.”

“Sit down,” Gekin said. “You may as well rest as much as you can. They have left this a test for Anokii to fail, and no one has disturbed her or the queen. You are almost as safe here as in the catacombs—and we have all enjoyed that. Look at us fools without cloaks in the middle of the day.”

“Keeping the curtains closed is better for her health,” Anokii said, though that might be only a hope and not truth. She did like this freedom and semi-darkness, being able to shed her cloak in the castle. “Or so I shall insist if anyone asks.”

Agache smiled. “I do think it probably helps—she is not of this land, not used to the suns.”

“We will get her home safely, Agache. When she is well, I will take her,” Gekin promised, and Agache nodded. Anokii kissed her husband’s cheek, worried and yet pleased that he would make that offer. “I can start making preparations now.”

“If you want.” Agache frowned, studying the queen. “Perhaps you should. I think she might be stirring, and if she is, we need to be ready to get her to the border.”

Author’s Note: Not sure how many times I’ve said it, but plans never go as they should, now do they?

“So after Malzhi has left you and the king on whatever pretext he chooses, pour this into your drink and that into the king’s. Make certain that you tip your glass as though you are drinking but do not take any of the wine until after you have seen him drink. He needs to have at least two mouthfuls in him before you collapse. I’d prefer it if there were more. The sicker he gets, the more suspicious he will be, and that would be to our advantage.” Agache stopped, touching the queen’s arm and looking in her eyes. “You understand all that? You need it explained again?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t. I am aware of what I need to do, and I am prepared to do it, but I am not an idiot. You needn’t go through all that again.”

Anokii almost laughed at the other woman’s tone. Sometimes Agache did treat her rather like a child, and Anokii did not blame her for being frustrated with him. She had only come to the land a few months ago, had no real knowledge of its history or the politics that divided it, and while they had tried to educate her, they tended to assume that she did not know what she was doing because she was new. She was more capable than they thought, and she should have proved it by now, but they were slow to change. They still acted as though she wasn’t someone they could trust.

She was the one who would suffer if they were wrong, and she was the only one that could do what must be done. They had to trust her.

“I am sorry. It is… It is a risk, and I do not want you to be hurt.”

The queen laughed. “Oh, Agache, you know if that is what you truly wanted, you’d dump me back in my homeland. As it is, you are still using me, as you said you wanted to back in the beginning. I do not mind so much with you. You have been almost honest with me, and you have not threatened me as Malzhi and the king have.”

“He is nothing like them.”

The queen turned to Anokii. “I know that you are very loyal to your cousin. I have never doubted that. We need not argue about it. I should go. If I am late, it will seem suspicious, won’t it?”

“You are missing something important,” Agache said, his finger going to one of the paint marks on her neck. “You had better not leave before we put the fake bindings back on you, or everything will be over. Where is are they, Anokii?”

“Here,” she said, carrying the necklace over, but he took it and helped fasten it to the queen’s neck. He stepped back and studied her, nodding, and she glared at him, shaking her head.

“Nothing like them at all,” she said, fingering the bindings, and Agache laughed, reaching up to brush back some of her curls. “You are so—”

“Shh,” he said, tapping a finger against her lips. “You’re going to be late.”

“When I wake up, I’m going to hit you.”

“Very well. As long as you make certain that you do wake up,” he told her, giving her a smile as his hand moved across her cheek. He blinked, moving to the side to allow her to pass. The queen nodded, starting out of the room, almost running as she did. He closed his eyes with a curse.

“She will live.”

“Yes, she will.”

“You are not displeased by that fact, are you?”

Agache frowned. “You think I want her dead? Why would you believe that? I do not have that much of the Gichikane in me.”

Anokii shook her head. She had to go after the queen, and she was not certain that she wanted to discuss her thoughts with her cousin. She thought it best that she did not. She should be present when the queen acted. She would need a healer, and Anokii was the only one who could do that without revealing their earlier deception. If anyone saw the bruises were fake, if they knew that the bindings were as well, the king would kill her. He might even know that Agache was alive once he learned what they’d done.

She took a place at the back of the room and folded her hands together, watching the queen as she moved around the room. She circulated amongst the ministers and their wives as was her duty, the most visible woman in the room with her fine dress made of zenie, her dark curls and many jewels, even if one was a torture device. She was quite graceful in all her movements, whether she was walking or bowing, ready to be stolen away for a dance if only there was a suitable partner.

“She should be dancing.”

“You should not be talking,” Anokii said, slapping Agache’s bad arm to emphasize her words. He needed to be silent. His voice was far too recognizable, and he was risking too much to be in the room now. She would never convince him to leave, not when they needed this ruse and he was determined to witness his plan being executed. He had put the queen at risk again, and he had to be there if something were to go wrong. Anokii knew he would not go leave, not until the queen was awake again.

The king took hold of the queen’s arm, and she stiffened. Agache grumbled, and Anokii hit him again. She could not believe that he was being so foolish. He needed to be more careful.

“Calm yourself. Malzhi is with them, and it should happen soon,” Anokii whispered, grasping Agache’s hand to keep him from betraying himself again. He fidgeted when the minister leaned too close the queen. “There. He made it much easier for us by bringing them the glasses.”

“Except if he knows there is no poison in it, he will turn on the queen when he is accused by the king.”

“She was poisoned, too. Few people would believe she did it herself.”

Agache grunted. She didn’t know why he was bothered by his own plan now. They could not stop it—any movement from them, any intervention, and everyone would know that the queen was an ally of the resistance. They would know that Anokii was a part of it, and they would likely learn that Agache was alive. That was not something that could happen. The queen had to use the poison.

Malzhi moved away, and the queen glared at him. The king said something to her, and she paled, turning her attention to the drink in her hands. The king laughed, gulping down his wine, and she sipped at hers.

“She should have—” Agache stopped, cursing as the queen fell. “I thought you said her dose wasn’t as strong.”

“She is foreign,” Anokii said, hurrying forward. She must have gotten it wrong. She had created the mixture as though the queen was one of the Biskane, and that was a mistake.

“Get away from her, worm. You are not fit to treat the queen.”

“And you are?” the king demanded, moving close to them. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t—”

The king lurched forward, falling to the ground. Anokii jumped back, giving a terrified shriek though she had known that fall was coming. She swallowed, not wanting to do this, but she knew that she must. The accusation had to be made. “He poisoned the king! He poisoned them both!”

Malzhi reached for her. “You lying worm. You did this.”

“From across the room?” Wenjige snorted. “You are a terrible liar.”

“Let go of her. She needs to see to the queen. Fetch the physician for the king. Now,” one of the other ministers ordered. Malzhi glared at all of them. Anokii started toward the queen again, but Agache had already lifted her into his arms. “Take her. If she dies, you die, understood?”

Anokii nodded. “Yes, minister.”

Author’s Note: By all rights, the queen should have said no, but Agache was almost logical about all this. Or maybe they’re all desperate.

“I need you to poison yourself.”

Jis blinked, turning back from her mirror. She was starting to wonder why she never seemed to hear Agache coming or going, since her training should be better than that, but she was missing him far more than she should have been. Was she too comfortable in his presence? Was that it? He didn’t make her feel fear or unease, so she did not feel alarmed when he entered or exited. Still, when she thought back to what he’d said, why was it she trusted him?

Perhaps she was desperate. The king had made his intentions all too obvious today, and she knew she didn’t have much time before he killed her and invaded her homeland—and he had promised her too many times that she would suffer before she died.

Still… She couldn’t be that desperate.

“What?”

“We need to cause a distraction and increase tensions between Malzhi and the king. I want to poison the king, but if you are not affected, they will suspect you. So you need to take it as well.”

That explanation did not make his initial words any better than they had been before. She shook her head. “You’re insane.”

Agache nodded, one of his familiar half-smiles on his face. “That much is true.”
She was not as amused as he was. She knew that the marks had fooled the king this time, but if he chose to remove the bindings, he would see that she had begun to heal, and he would not be pleased. She could not help worrying about what he would do if he realized his favorite toy was broken. “You want to poison the king? That—I thought you didn’t want to kill him.”

“I don’t. I want him to think someone else is trying to kill him.”

“That someone being Malzhi.”

“Of course. It would do little good to suggest that it was anyone other than Malzhi who was acting in such a manner. No one would believe it,” Agache said, stopping when he reached her side. “You should tell Anokii to make the color darker. It needs to look worse than that if the king is to believe the bindings still work.”

“I know.”

Agache reached a hand toward her, but then he pulled back before his finger touched her skin. “When I say I want you to poison yourself, I am not asking you to—what I need from you is a convincing faint.”

She thought of how close she’d come to unconsciousness at the king’s hands and how that relief never seemed to come, shaking her head again. “I don’t faint.”

“Which is why I want you to take some of the herbs. A smaller portion—well, they won’t even be the same, but your poisoning needs to look real. Your collapse followed by the king’s would implicate Malzhi. He has reason to hate you both, and that means that most people will assume that he was behind it even if he was not.”

“What are you planning on doing when the distraction is happening?”

“I am hoping to send a large contingent of my people across the border.”

She glared at him. “You are not going to lie to me, not now. You need to be honest about what you are planning on doing if I am going to put myself through that. I don’t care if my illness is fake or that the poison will be less for me than for the king, I need a good reason to do this. Yes, it is important to make the king think that he is being attacked, to make him distrust Malzhi, but there are dozens of ways that you could do that besides having me poison myself.”

Agache put his hands on her face, his thumb tracing under her eye. “This mark is not one put there by Anokii. It is not paint. It is real. You need to rest more.”

“You cannot say that to me when you never rest yourself.”

He nodded. “I know, but I do not have to be with the enemy. I am not battling the worst this land has to offer on a constant basis. Not the way you are. They both have been hurting you.”

“I am not made of glass.”

“You are still made of things that are far too fragile for my liking. Life can end so quickly for any of us, and you have been… You are an ally that I value and respect.”

“I am still only an ally?”

“Do I dare call you a friend?”

She sighed. “I suppose it is rather desperate of me to want to call you, Anokii, and possibly even Gekin my friends.”

“No, it is not,” Agache told her. He let out a breath. “If we are to avoid war with your people, we must do this. If we are to succeed at all, we must do this. If war begins, it won’t matter to him what happens here, only that he subjugates all your land and your people. That is why we must begin the war here. I need the king thinking this is a real threat to his life. I need him distrusting Malzhi more than ever. I intend to make things look as much like a coup as I can. I want to make Malzhi look guilty and give him only one choice if he wants to live.”

“You are trying to push Malzhi into a coup. Is that wise? He is almost as bad as the king.”

“He is, and we do all fear him gaining power if the king falls. If the king goes to war with your people, I doubt there will be any Nebkasha left in the land. I cannot allow that to happen. I want—need—the king and Malzhi to be so busy fighting amongst themselves that they are too distracted to combat any of our efforts—and I suppose it would be… preferable if they would eliminate each other.”

“And if they don’t? Or even if they do, that is—”

“This has to end, Jis.”

“It will.”

She knew it would, one way or another, and she did not know that she agreed that this was the only option they had, but he seemed set up on it—for once not concealing any of his decision from her. That made this all the more important, didn’t it?

“That means that you will poison yourself?”

“I cannot believe that I am saying this, but yes.”

Author’s Note: Sometimes plans are bad. Wait, it’s me. All plans are bad. This isn’t anything new. It’s another in a long line of bad plans, though they’re spread out over many stories and personal foibles.

“The queen thinks that the king’s inspection of the troops is an indication that he is almost ready for war. That he intends to kill her soon.”

Agache nodded. “I believe she is correct. She’s not a fool.”

Anokii sat down next to her husband, letting Gekin’s presence soothe her as she did. She had not liked leaving the queen, even though the other woman could not delay—she had to go join the king—not when she was facing such a threat and still low in spirit. “You have some sort of… plan, don’t you? I do not think you want her harmed.”

“Of course not. I’m not that much of a Gichikane,” Agache said, closing his eyes. He put a hand on his side and drew in a breath, and Anokii knew she’d have to look at that wound before they parted company. “It is time to create as much chaos and confusion as we can. I do not mean the annoyances at the borders and to the troops. No, this time we must cause a huge conflict, the kind that will push us toward civil war.”

“Are you insane?”

“Yes.”

Gekin frowned, and Anokii sighed. She thought she understood what her cousin was thinking, but she didn’t like it much more than Gekin did. “Is it not better to let the king start his war and then start the chaos? Let him be besieged on all sides.”

“If the queen dies and we go to war, he will not care about chaos back here. He will see that war to its conclusion before he comes back to quell any insurgency here. You know this. He would inspire more fear by decimating the armies of the Binesiou than he would crushing a rebellion here. He would enjoy letting them think they had won here only to destroy them without mercy upon his return.”

Gekin lowered his head. “I hate that you are right about that.”

“It would be Malzhi who took control in the king’s absence. The Nebkasha would be slaughtered.”

Anokii shook her head, turning into Gekin, holding onto him. She could not imagine the horrors they would face if Malzhi gained true power. “That cannot be allowed to happen.”

“I believe the only option that we have now is to force that conflict here before the king can move against our neighbors. That is to say… We must make the king think Malzhi is about to attempt a coup. We must force Malzhi to make that attempt.”

Gekin wrapped his arm around Anokii’s waist, kissing her forehead, and she knew that he wanted comfort as much as she did. “Manipulating Malzhi is dangerous. You came far too close to your cousin earlier today. How are you going to do any of this and not get yourself killed?”

Agache shook his head. “I won’t. I can’t. I don’t know how he didn’t know I was there this morning—or perhaps he did and that is why he hurt her in front of us—but I cannot go close the king, not even to make him think he is under threat. Ideally, someone would make him think that Malzhi had failed to assassinate him, but he’d wake if I tried to walk in there at night. If I approached in the daytime—”

“No. That is impossible.”

Anokii let out a breath. “The queen could do it. I know you won’t want her to, but she has the right sort of access. The king has been keeping her close at his side of late.”

“And if she turns on him, no matter what her training, she will die,” Gekin said. He lifted Anokii’s chin. “You are not suggesting that she try to kill him, are you?”

“Agache told you about her being an esibani? I had to hear that from her.”

“No, he didn’t. I just remembered what I’d heard of them while I was in Binesiou land and made the connection on my own.”

“I think I may know how to do this and prevent the queen from being accused of anything,” Agache said, rising. He walked down the path and stopped. “We will need some apaak.”

Anokii swallowed, forcing that unpleasantness down her throat. “That is too dangerous to use, and you know it.”

“If we have any hope of convincing the king that it was a real threat, it has to be apaak.”

Gekin grimaced. “I don’t like it, but Agache is right—only apaak has any hope of causing a Gichikane any form of distress. I can get some, but I admit, I worry for you in the preparation of it. I do not want you harmed.”

“I can do it if I am told what to do. I should be fine.”

“Agache—”

“Just get us the apaak we need.”