Author’s Note: Strange to wake up at home… and then discover it’s not home after all.

“Jis.”

She opened her eyes in her own bedchamber, frowning. Had she dreamed herself into being a queen? Had she fooled herself so much? Were the negotiations still taking place and she was dreaming of taking her half-sister’s place? Or was she insane? Why was she home? How could she be here? She was not… dead, was she?

“Father?”

“You are back with us. We had thought we had lost you,” he said, reaching up to touch her cheek. “You have been insensible for several days, and while you were, you called out, but we could not reach you no matter what we did.”

“I don’t… What happened?”

“The man who gave you back to us was not all that specific. He said you had been injured and that an infection had set in on you. They had started to treat you, but they feared for your safety so they gave you back to us while the unrest was settled.”

“Unrest? The king is dead, isn’t he? And Malzhi?”

“Both of them, I believe, though I cannot be certain of the second one. At one point, you did say you would kill him, and that would be proof enough for me.”

She groaned, closing her eyes. Her father did not know her at all, but then who was a king to know his children? He did not know the ones he claimed, so why would he know the ones he kept hidden? He wouldn’t.

“Just rest. The important thing now is that you recover. Your duty is over, and you are a widow, it would seem. You are going to need time to heal and even grieve for what you have lost.”

She almost said there was nothing to grieve, since she had not loved her husband and was not sorry that he was gone, but she had lost more than she cared to think about. She no longer had her friends, if she could call Anokii and Gekin that, and then there was Agache. Had Malzhi killed him? She doubted her father knew, and she did not know that she wanted to ask him anyway.

“Did the man who brought me back have a name? Was it Gekin?”

“I hope you were not foolish enough to fall in love with someone while you were there.”

“Gekin is married. He and his wife Anokii were… allies of mine.”

“I see.”

“You don’t. Leave me alone,” she said, turning over so that she would not have to face him. Her side hurt, and she didn’t feel like talking. She did not know if Agache was dead or not, but she had been more than fool enough to feel something for him, even if that was not love, and he was lost to her now. She had not been free to have him, but now she would not even see him.

She felt the tears on her cheek, and she closed her eyes, hoping to stop the rest of them. She did not want to give in to them. If she was strong, she could resist them, resist all of it. She needed to resist it.

The tears continued to come. She was not strong enough to keep them back.

Author’s Note: Agache finally gets to do what he wanted to do for so long. Of course, that also means doing something he does not want to do, but he will do what’s best for the people.

“How is it out there? Is it still chaos?”

Gekin nodded, sitting down. He shook his head. “I had never thought—it is worse than we believed it would be. I do not think there is any sort of organization to the fighting. No one knows who they want to support. Though at least most of the resistance has been smart enough not to fight at all, some of the Nebkasha have been hurt as well, just for being what they are. We need… order. I do not know how we will get it, but we will tear ourselves apart soon.”

Anokii glanced toward her cousin. He would not like what she would say, would not want to leave the queen’s side. “Agache, it is time to—”

“Why won’t she wake?” Agache asked, his hand moving toward the queen and then pulling back. “If she was awake—”

“She has a fever. The wound became infected. I am sorry, cousin. The catacombs are not ideal for treating the sick, and I fear this place was not fit for her to recovery. Not at all.”

Agache looked down, letting out a breath. His arm still pained him, but Anokii knew he did not care about that right now. She did not think anything mattered to him except the woman he could not have. “Gekin, how long does it take to get to the border?”

“I have made it in two days before, but you are in no condition to do that, and neither is she. There is too much unrest and you are both injured. Did you not hear what I said about what it is like out there? We would not make it close to the border.”

“Yes, you could,” Agache said. “You could if there were a reprieve, if the fighting were to lessen, if someone stepped forward as a clear leader…”

“You know what you must do, cousin,” Anokii said, touching his good arm. She knew how much he would hate this, but what else could they do? Hiding would not save anyone. “You are the heir. You have no choice. You must reveal yourself and take the throne that belongs to you.”

He winced, but then he nodded, his posture stiffening. “I will do what must be done. I need you to take her across the border.”

“Agache—”

“It will not be easy to wrest power from those now vying for it, even if Malzhi is dead. There will be plenty that wish her dead, not just for her role in what we have done but also for what she is—a possible heir or a way for their country to seize power if they realize we are in the middle of a revolt. There are plenty here who would want her dead. Her people may want to use her as well. She is better off on their side of the border. Take her, now, or I will say nothing to anyone of my survival.”

Gekin started to object again, but Anokii shook her head. “Agache is right. She is not safe here. She should be returned to her people.”

“I will take her, then.” Gekin sighed. “Be careful, both of you. I know it is his birthright, but it will not be easy to overcome the prejudice of many.”

Agache knelt next to the bed, brushing back some of the queen’s curls. “I shall miss you, my esibani. I almost wish you would wake and make another of your threats. Strange to think I welcome you saying you would stab me, but I already miss your voice. You are too quiet, and silence has never suited you.”

Gekin turned to Anokii, placing his hands on her face before pressing his lips to hers. She could sense his desperation, and she echoed it. She did not want to let him go any more than he wanted to go, but they had little choice.

“We are at the end, my niniamant,” she whispered. “Soon it will all be finished. We will have a true and just leader—or we will leave to settle in other lands—and we will be free at last. We must be strong only a little bit longer.”

“I know, but this is the part that is the most dangerous, when it is almost done,” Gekin said, frowning with worry. He gave her another desperate kiss. “Zigaime.”

Anokii knew he would return for her. She believed that. “Always.”

Author’s Note: Originally, this scene started with them waking Agache, but it needed much more than that.

“He is late. Dangerously so. He was only supposed to tell the queen that he wanted her to go across the border. Given her typical reaction to that, he should have returned to us by now, with orders to sedate her and take her across the border. He made me promise to do it if he could not convince her to go willingly.”

Gekin nodded. “I know. He asked me before if I would take her if it became necessary, and I am not surprised to hear you say he feels it is. He is… You know what he is.”

Anokii closed her eyes. She did not want to think about it. She’d seen too much already, and she knew her cousin was struggling. He should be resting, but he never did. “Come. He must be with the queen still—or he has been found by the king. Either way, we must know what has become of him.”

Gekin took her hand, leading her through the catacombs. She did not need him to guide her, but she didn’t want to let go of his hand, either. She was comforted, knowing he was with her, since she feared the worst for her cousin, again.

“Something is going on outside. I cannot make it out, but there is a great noise out there, some shouting—the walls prevent clarity, but something is wrong.”

Anokii grimaced, though she could not deny her husband’s words. She could hear something outside the passage as well, though she’d thought that she heard wailing, not shouting. Perhaps it had been a scream. They would not know until they returned to the castle.

“Quickly,” Gekin said, pushing her into the hall outside the queen’s chamber. She ran toward the door, shoving it open. She could make out more of the commotion now, and she did not know that she trusted her hearing. “Who is dead? Did they say a name or—”

“I thought I heard the king, but that is not possible,” Anokii said, rushing toward the balcony. She leaned over the edge, backing away when she understood. “Gekin… If I am right about those robes, the clothes… That is the king and Malzhi.”

Gekin frowned. “Impossible. And yet…”

Anokii let the curtain fall down, covering the room in some darkness, needing to find the queen and her cousin. She should not have stepped into the light of the suns—she could not make out much until her eyes adjusted. “Oh, no. The queen. She’s…”

“Tell me what you need, and we will treat her.”

“Where is Agache?”

“It matters little when she bleeds so,” Gekin said, kneeling down beside the queen, pressing his hand over the wound. Anokii ran to the cupboard with her herbs, hoping that she would not find her cousin in a similar state—and yet he would never have allowed that to happen to the queen if he were able to prevent it, so he must be hurt as well.

Anokii carried the bowl over to the queen, crushing some ozaa as she did. “Here. The ozaa will help stop the bleeding. Find Agache for me. He must be wounded as well, and he will also need treatment.”

Gekin nodded. “He would never have let this happen to her if he was not. Still… you only saw two bodies in the courtyard, neither of which had a cloak, right? I did not get much of a chance to look, but that was what I saw.”

She tried to take comfort in that, ripping open the queen’s dress and sprinkling the ozaa onto her wound. “She will need much more than this, but if the king and Malzhi fell from here, the troops must be on their way. She’ll be killed even if she was nowhere near them when they fell.”

“We’ll get them both out of here. If you think you’ve stopped the bleeding, come see to your cousin and what he might need before we move him,” Gekin said, and she bit her lip, uncertain if she’d done enough for the queen yet. They did not have much choice, though. They had to get both the queen and Agache out of here before they were discovered.

“Cousin?” Anokii knelt down beside Agache as he started to stir, putting a hand to his head. She let out a breath. “There you are. We were waiting for you in the catacombs, and then when you did not come, we rushed here, but we were too late.”

He grimaced. “I’d forgotten how petty Malzhi was. My head is—Jis. Where’s Jis? The king had her and he—”

“The king is dead.”

“What?”

“He and Malzhi fell to their deaths, it would seem. I do not think it had anything to do with either of you since you are here—I didn’t see you at first and thought perhaps you had fallen, but you were only out of sight—and the queen is there, both quite removed from that balcony. I don’t believe either of you had anything to do with their fall, only what passed before that happened.”

Agache dragged himself over to the queen’s side, heedless of the puddle around her. “She’s bleeding. Anokii—”

“I have already begun to tend to her. If you can move, then we must get you on your feet.”

“We can’t move Jis, not like this.”

Gekin shook his head. “We don’t have the luxury of letting her heal here, Agache. They will realize that the king and Malzhi fell from here, and even if she is bleeding, she will be blamed. We must get her out of here before the guards arrive.”

“We do not have long.”

“To the catacombs, then,” Agache said. He reached to lift the queen, but fell back with a curse. “My arm. I don’t remember them hurting it, but I can’t—”

“I will take her,” Gekin said, lifting her up into his arms. “Anokii, help him. We must go.”

Author’s Note: I admit to struggling with writing action sequences. It’s not something I enjoy or can sort out well. I try, but I always have my doubts about these kind of things.

Time your steps properly. Do not act without thinking of the outcome. One cut is not a victory. One victory is not a war.

She had not wanted to consider what she did war, not ever, and she’d never wanted to kill, but she could not ignore her trainer’s words, not now. She might have the advantage of a blade, and Agache had, despite his lingering injuries, the advantage of his own training—if she was able to soar with footwork, so was he—but if she were to make the wrong move against Malzhi, she could end up giving that advantage away, even hurting Agache when she meant to stop Malzhi.

The minister managed to get close enough to Agache to seize his arm, and Agache grunted, struggling as he attempted to free himself. With his arm twisted, pushing against the more recent wound to his side, Agache could do little against the minister, who laughed with his supposed triumph. She knew the fight had shifted in Malzhi’s favor with the discovery of that weakness. She had to get to Agache before Malzhi could hurt him further.

“Malzhi.”

He jerked his head up, turning toward her. His eyes caught the blade, and he glared at her. Agache turned in his grip, and Malzhi shoved him away, toward the wall. Agache hit the stone, trying to force himself back to his feet with his good arm. Malzhi looked to Agache, and she figured he saw him as a bigger threat, even with the blade in her hands. He turned his back on her and went for Agache.

Malzhi was a fool. She threw the blade, and though it landed off mark because he’d leaned down toward Agache, it hit, causing him to snarl. She went forward, ready to reclaim the knife, but he anticipated her, knocking her down when she put her hand on the hilt. She had to smile, though, as he had helped her remove the dagger from his back with what he’d done.

She wrapped her legs around his ankles, yanking his legs out from under him and knocking him to the ground. She moved forward the instant he was down, climbing over Malzhi and putting her blade to his neck. He frowned at her as she pressed the blade down against his skin, making it draw blood. She gave the blade a glance and then shoved it into his shoulder. She could disable him, and she would. That was all she needed. She would keep him from Agache, and then he would get away from here, go regroup with the resistance, and they would continue their fight. She didn’t care what happened to her now. Let it be war with her homeland. Her death would be enough to stop both the king and Malzhi because the tension and fighting between them had caused enough casualties to make the land vulnerable to invasion.

Her father’s troops should be able to take the city and then the castle with little trouble. They were not quite as trained as an esibani, but they were trained.

She withdrew her blade and forced it into his other shoulder. Malzhi cursed her. “Gizchien.”

She laughed. “No. Esibani.”

He snarled, but he was unable to react. She could have kept disabling him, making his legs as useless as his arms, but the movement she’d heard behind her was not Agache rising. She was yanked away from Malzhi, her wrist twisted near to breaking as she was dragged close to the king.

“You are worse than a gizchien. I should have snapped your neck when you first came here. You were never fit to be my bride.”

“As if you know what to do with a woman,” she said, turning the blade so that she could almost use it against him despite the hold that he had on her wrist. She could not do much damage like this, but she didn’t think that was what she needed just yet. “I do not think that you have anything that can deal with a woman, do you?”

He pushed her wrist further, and she knew it would have snapped if not for the voice that distracted him.

“No, I do not believe he does.”

Agache. He was awake. She’d thought that Malzhi had managed to knock him hard enough to cause him to lose consciousness, but he was back on his feet. She let out a breath in relief.

“Cousin. At last you show yourself. I knew that you were not dead.”

“You did not. If I had not fooled you, I would not have shocked you so much just now.”

“I can’t believe you let him live,” Malzhi said, glaring at the king. “You’re supposed to be this terrifying leader, someone we all feared and despised, but with all your cruelty, you never could turn against your blood, could you?”

“If you assume it had anything to do with loyalty, you are a fool,” Agache said, his look dark as he started toward his cousin. “It might have had to do with blood, though. That much might be true. Why don’t you tell him why I survived? Or will you admit to that? Will you confess the mistake that you made?”

Jis took a breath and struck, pushing her blade into the king’s side. The wound could be fatal, she had not gone for a simple disable, but she did not know that she had a choice. He growled, his arm moving toward her. She tried to dodge, but the blow connected, sending her back to the floor. She hadn’t expected it, thought she was clear, and the knife fell when she did.

Malzhi snorted, rising, and she saw him lurching toward Agache even as she started for the dagger that the king was already headed toward. He stepped on her hand, and she cried out, knowing it was about to break.

Agache went for the king instead of Malzhi, knocking him back and off of her hand. Malzhi, though, seemed determined to kill Agache this time, kicking the blade away from her as he caught Agache’s back, pulling him away from his cousin.

She forced herself up, watching the fight for where she should intervene. Agache could not win against both of them, but she could not find an opening. She turned to look for the dagger, and then she found herself once again on the ground, slammed there by the king. He put his hand on her neck and started to squeeze.

She choked, needing a way to free herself from his grip, and somehow a scream passed through her lips as the blade connected with her side. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, and she had almost nothing left when something pulled the king off of her. She blinked, not understanding what she was seeing. She’d thought it was Agache, but no, Agache was on the ground, not moving, and Malzhi had been the one to take the king off of her.

They struggled, twisting and grunting, angry snarls passing between them. The king tried to force Malzhi over the edge of the balcony, but the minister would not let go. If she could get closer, she could unbalance one of them, but she could not move.

The king slammed Malzhi against the rail, and he was about to finish pushing him over when Malzhi’s weight took them both over the edge. She frowned, not sure she’d seen right, but then the pain in her side grew worse, and she lost herself to the darkness.

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.”