Shattered Dance

That was the way she wanted to keep it. If Kerrec was a rare target and Valeria rarer still, she hated to think of what their enemies might do to their daughter.

She had been going to tell Briana. Now she wondered if she should. Briana would be furious if that of all secrets was kept from her, but if it kept Grania out of danger, maybe it was worth it.

As if her thoughts had drawn him in, Kerrec squeezed himself onto the narrow bed beside her. Guilt made her voice sharp. “Don’t you have a bed of your own to lie in?”

“Yes, and it’s wider than this one, too,” he said. He made no move to go. “What are you angry at? Grania’s better off where she is. Her grandmother loves her. I’m sure her grandfather adores her.”

“And my brothers and sisters are spoiling her rotten.” Valeria scowled at the ceiling. There was a crack in the beam just where the light struck it. “I’m not sorry she’s there. She’s well out of the way of whatever’s coming. But I’m thinking maybe your sister shouldn’t know about her. No one should outside of the Mountain or Imbria.”

“No one but Briana,” he said.

“But what if she—”

“What? You think she could betray us? She’s the last person who would ever do such a thing.”

Valeria could feel the heat of his temper though his voice was calm. No wonder, too. He was right. He usually was.

She did not have too much pride to admit it. “I know that. But if something happens to Briana and it’s forced out of her, you know where they’ll go. Grania is the last of your blood. Until Briana gets herself a consort, she’s the only heir the empire has.”

“She is not,” Kerrec said—a little quickly, maybe. “I’m no longer in the line of succession, therefore neither is she. She’s a rider’s child. Blood binds her to no one but us. The riders are all the family she has.”

“Maybe so,” Valeria said, “but will that matter if the throne is empty and there’s no one else to take it? Can you think of a more valuable pawn than a baby with that breeding?”

“All the more reason for my sister to know,” he said. “She’s entitled. She’s mage enough not to let it slip.”

Valeria barely heard him. She was just now realizing what she had said. She clutched at him until he grunted in protest. “Is that it? Is that what they’re plotting? Did they find out somehow, and they’re looking to get rid of Briana and put Grania in her place? That must mean—if it goes all the way to the council—if they’re plotting to seize the empire through a regency—”

“Stop,” he said quietly but so firmly that her mouth snapped shut. “If that is what’s happening, Briana needs to know more than ever. She’s in the best position to find and stamp out the treachery in her council.”

Valeria could not reasonably argue with that. It did not keep her from trying. “I still think—”

“I know what you think,” he said. “You never have trusted the highborn. Even me.”

“That’s not true,” Valeria said.

“You know it is.” He did not sound as if the knowledge caused him much pain. “Can you trust us just this once? Let my sister know.”

“She’s your daughter, too,” Valeria said.

His brow arched. “You admit it?”

She hit him—not nearly hard enough in such close quarters, but it got his attention. “You know what I mean.”

“Then I’ll tell her,” he said.

The knot inside Valeria, with the Unmaking inside of that, swelled so large she could hardly breathe. If she had had any breath left, she might have kept on arguing. As it was, she wrapped herself around him and pressed her head to his chest and let his heartbeat bring what calm it could.

His lips brushed her hair. “She’s a rider, too, remember. Or did you forget?”

Valeria had forgotten. She flushed so hot he must have felt it through his shirt. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I haven’t been thinking.”

“Not about that,” he said. “You’ve been overly focused. It’s a weakness we all have. All we can see is the Mountain. We forget there’s anything beyond it.”

“I more than anyone should know better,” she said.

He did not deny it. But he did say, “That’s why we’ve come here—to teach ourselves to look beyond the Mountain. I need you for that, and I need my sister. The three of us are notably stronger together than apart.”

Valeria nodded. The Mountain was the empire’s heart—that was the ancient tradition. Its magic and the emperor’s were two halves of a whole.

It was significant that in this generation, both an emperor’s firstborn and his heir had been Called by the gods. That had never happened before. What it meant, even Augurs and Seers did not know.

Valeria thought she could guess. The empire’s heart and its head had been divided for a thousand years. Now they were to come together.

Grania might be the key. Or she might not.

Valeria could not see her daughter on the throne. None of the patterns around her pointed toward the empire. She was meant for the Mountain. Briana’s heir must be the one who would do it—or maybe Briana herself.

First they all had to survive the coronation. Then Briana had to live long enough to take a husband and bear a child. Any plot against her would do its best to prevent that. It did not even have to kill her—simply keep her from doing her duty.

Or better yet, it could corrupt her. If she turned against the Mountain—

That would never happen. The Lady would not let it.

She might if it suited her divine and inscrutable purpose.

Valeria’s head had begun to pound. All these gods and emperors and plots and counterplots were more than her poor peasant brain could stand. Life should be simple. Death should be clean, not tainted with Unmaking.

It was her fault for stumbling into this world of power and princes. If she had stayed in Imbria as her mother wanted her to, none of it would be any concern of hers—at least until the darkness came and everything vanished into it.

That was the trouble with destiny. Sooner or later it swallowed everyone. Valeria could be simple mindless prey, or she could fight back. She had that choice.

She held on to Kerrec as if he had been a rock in a storm. His arms were secure around her and his magic blessedly safe around that. For this little while, nothing could touch or trouble her.

She was not a woman to submit blindly to any man’s protection. But she was also a mage, and she was learning to accept that the occasional power might be stronger than hers.

Kerrec’s certainly was. Someday she might be his equal in skill—as in raw strength she was his superior—but for now she was an apprentice and he was a master.

It was unusually humbling to contemplate that. Humility was a rider’s virtue. It was good for her to cultivate it.

Sleep was closing in on her. She fought it by reflex, then sighed and let it have its way.

Chapter Thirteen

After her morning’s fit of truancy, Briana found the weight of the day a little lighter. She had eluded a council and a session of the court, but one duty she was pleased to perform. It was the first rite of her coronation, the first step that would seal her to the empire.

It was also the oldest of the rites and the most nearly solitary, with no one to share in it but the gods’ servants who celebrated it with her. Part of its lesson was humility and part was remembrance—of who she was, what she was and where she had come from. Before every court and every gathering of the people, she was to remember that in her essence she was alone. No one else could be what she was or share what she had, either the good or the ill.

The rite began shortly after noon, as the long summer day began its slow descent into evening. Priests and priestesses of Sun and Moon met her in the palace, blessed and consecrated her and led her outside the city by a way that was only taken when the imperial heir was about to be crowned.