Queen's Hunt (River of Souls 2)

“Yes. Where is Andrej? He sent you to find Rana, of course.”

“Not directly,” she said, “but yes.”

“He was always persuasive,” Dzavek murmured. “Is that why you betrayed me in the end?”

She shook her head. “I never did, Leos.”

“Then why did you leave me?”

It was their old argument of loyalty and honor. She wanted to tell Leos that she had intended to serve both him and their kingdom, without betraying her own honor. She checked herself. In his eyes, the king was the kingdom. Her reasons were unimportant. Her personal honor meaningless. She had acted against him, therefore against Károví.

More than once, she reminded herself.

And so she simply said, “I left because I could not do otherwise.”

“We must each act according to our purpose,” he murmured.

He waved his hand, and ghostlike rings, silver and white, flashed their brilliant gems.

Though she heard no spoken invocation, the air thickened at once. She retreated from the pedestal, uncertain what he meant to do. It was then she heard the footsteps, slow and deliberate. Dzavek pointed toward the wall and a small door that Ilse had not noticed before.

The door swung open to reveal Dzavek’s body framed between the ivory posts. Dzavek’s spirit glided toward his body. For one moment, there was a doubled image. A heartbeat later, the two merged into one, sending a shock through the magic current. Dzavek blinked and drew a long breath. He passed a hand over his face. He appeared dazed and his skin gleamed with sweat.

Watching him, Ilse was reminded of Raul’s first secretary, Berthold Hax, in the days before his death. The face leached of warmth and color, the lines etched with the knife edge of pain, the strange distant gaze, half focused on this world, half on the void and journey to the next life.

He’s dying. He knows it. He knows he cannot escape death forever.

Dzavek walked unsteadily past Ilse to the marble pedestal. He gathered up Rana into his hands and closed his eyes. Though he did not move his lips, the current stirred. His face smoothed. The unhealthy gray vanished in the wake of a ruddy flush, and he stood straighter. It was like watching an invisible hand brush away the centuries.

“Leos…”

“No,” he said. “Do not argue with me, Milada. We have never agreed on these points. I do not wish to harm you, but I shall not let you betray me again.” His eyes opened to show them brilliant as before, but too bright, too intent. “I see you have Daya. Show me where you left your body. I ask you now. I will not ask so gently again.”

He advanced. Ilse took a step back, thinking swiftly what to do. She heard Daya’s faint song, a tremolo of minor notes. Underneath, almost inaudible, Rana’s deeper chords. What had been their song before the emperor’s mage divided their souls into three?

You know nothing about him, Dzavek had said.

It was then she understood. He had been the priest who entrapped a magical being inside a jewel. He had been the emperor’s mage, who divided its soul into three, to prevent any thief from taking the whole.

And he will do more, she thought. He is that desperate.

All the while, Leos Dzavek had continued to press forward, driving her into a corner. His flesh could not hold her spirit, but his magic could. She had to escape into Anderswar, lure him far away from the Mantharah, and hope Valara Baussay discovered Lir’s third jewel in time. It might mean her soul trapped in the magical plane, but she could not risk his capturing ruby and emerald both.

She was about to murmur the invocation to magic, to make that leap, when a ripple of shadow and light caught her eye. Valara Baussay stepped over the threshold into the study.

“Leos,” she said softly. “You forget yourself.”

Her spirit shape was little more than a brush of darkness against the ivory walls. Her eyes were bright and fierce. Two dark patches—her tattoos—stood out clearer than in the flesh.

Leos swiveled around to face the intruder. “Andrej.”

His voice was like the hiss of metal over stone. His lips thinned to a sharp line. He and Valara stared at each other, their expressions a mirror of like emotion. A wolf and a fox, Ilse thought. Two beautiful, savage animals.

“Give me the ruby, Leos. Give me Rana.”

“No. I have need of it—to protect my kingdom.”

“So that you might send more ships against mine? I cannot risk that.”