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  To

  Troyce Wilson

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  KAIISTERON: Prince of the Fourth House of the Underearth (called Witch King)

  ZIEDE DAIYAHAH: High Teacher in the Mountain Cloisters of the Khalin Islands (called the Scourge of the Temple Halls)

  TAHREN STARGARD: an Immortal Marshall of the Blessed Lands (called the Fallen)

  DAHIN: Tahren’s Lesser Blessed sibling

  GRANDMOTHER: an ancestor of the Saredi of the grassplains, once a Captain of Scouts, who negotiated a treaty with the forces of the underearth and married a demon prince

  The Present

  SANJA: a street child of the Mouth of Flowers

  TENES: a Witch of unknown origin, captured as a familiar by Aclines

  BASHAT BAR CALIS: current Prince-heir of Benais-arik, foremost of the Rising World Coalition Council, former Emperor

  RAMAD: personal vanguarder to Prince-heir Bashat

  MENLAS: an unfortunately ambitious expositor, deceased

  ACLINES: an expositor of great power, deceased

  SAADRIN: an Immortal Marshall of the Stargard line, estranged from Tahren

  FAHARIN: an Immortal Patriarch, deceased

  TANIS: eldest daughter of Ziede Daiyahah

  ETEM: a Doorkeeper of the Nibet House at Ancartre, seconded to the Tescai-lin

  DOMTELLAN: Chancellor of the University at Ancartre

  SURA: an Academician in the History Wing of the University at Ancartre

  RAFIEM AND ELENI: Immortal Marshalls charged with finding escaped conspirators

  ILHANRUN HIGHSUN: a former Immortal Marshall, branded a foresworn for opposing the Blessed’s capitulation to the Hierarchs

  The Past

  BASHASA CALIS: the Prince-heir of Benais-arik, sent to the Summer Halls as a hostage for his city’s good behavior (called the Great)

  ADENI, VARRA, AND ILUDI: cousins to Enna, of the Kentdessa Saredi

  ARN-NEFA: a demon of the Kanavesi Saredi (called Arnsterath)

  TALAMINES: a High Expositor of the Hierarchs’ court at the Summer Halls, originally conscripted from Irekan

  ARSHA, TELARE, NIRANA, HARTEL, CERALA: Ariki soldiers who followed Bashasa to the Hostage Courts of the Summer Halls, later seconded to Kaiisteron Fourth Prince

  ARAVA: cadre leader.

  VASHAR, TRENAL: Ariki soldiers of Bashasa Calis’ personal cadre

  SALATEL: Second Shieldbearer to Prince-heir Bashasa, later leader of the cadre assigned to the Fourth Prince

  AMABEL: the first Witch vanguarder of the Fourth Prince’s cadre

  KREAT: Amabel’s young sibling

  BARAM, IBEL, MOTHER HIRAGA, ISA: Witches of the Fourth Prince’s cadre

  THE DOYEN, HAWKMOTH, NIGHTJAR, SUNROSE, STORMBIRD, KNIFECREST, SHEARWATER, OWLET, SPARROWHAWK, TANGELD: dustwitches of the northeast

  CIMERI: an earth Witch, freed from captivity with her spouse Raihar

  THE TESCAI-LIN: Great Sage of Enalin and Light of the Hundred Coronels

  LAHSHAR CALIS: maternal cousin to Prince-heir Bashasa of Benais-arik

  DASARA: the son and heir of Lahshar Calis

  HIRANAN: First Daughter of the Prince-heir of Seidel-arik

  VRIM: Second Son of the Prince-heir of Descar-arik

  ASARA: Second Daughter of the Prince-heir of Bardes-arik

  STAMASH: maternal uncle of the Prince-heir of Renitl-arik

  KARANIS CALIS: paternal cousin to Prince-heir Bashasa, who was selected by the Hierarchs to usurp the rule of Benais-arik, deceased

  VARTASIAS: an expositor tasked to Dashar

  The Past: the Spark

  It is believed that the name “Rising World” was bestowed on the first formal meeting of the coalition in Benais-arik, but the true first meeting, to be pedantic, actually took place in the Hierarchs’ Summer Halls, which was rapidly filling with water at the time …

  The truth as always is more complicated. Alliance war councils sprung up in many places, sparked by the Hierarchs’ defeat at the Summer Halls and the return of the hostages. These councils eventually coalesced around the strong Enalin-Arike force to the northeast with what was left of the population of the Arkai, the Sana-sarcofa, and the growing unified resistance in Palm and Belith, allied with the Grale and Ilver, and other survivors of the southern region and the western coast …

  “Rising World” is a mistranslation of a term for “cooperation among many/all” originating in the mountainous western Borderlands (or the Witchlands, as they were called in the east) carried by survivors of the Hierarchs’ attacks as they moved east to join the war …

  —The History of the Hierarch War: Volume Four: Gathering the Storm of Victory by An Interested Yet Unbiased Party

  The sun was high and bright when Kai rode into Benais-arik in Bashasa’s wake, their cadres on horseback around them. Kai was dressed in embroidered silk with only a few bloodstains on it, disguised as one of the Hierarch servant-nobles who had followed the usurper Karanis to the Kagala Fort. Bashasa wore Karanis’ elaborately decorated coat and the rest of the cadre had taken up the clothes of the usurper’s entourage. The large body of Arike soldiers with them came as themselves; they were the garrison conscripts that Karanis had brought with him.

  Fortunately the sun was a good excuse for the broad-brimmed silk hats that the entourage wore. It was hard to make out the all-black of Kai’s eyes from a distance, but he kept his hat tilted down, and his dark curling hair was tied and stuffed up under it. Talamines’ borrowed skin prickled with nerves and he didn’t trust himself to control his expression.

  The city outskirts were sporadic copses of trees, clusters of houses—or ruins where houses had stood—and farm fields and gardens. The people working there were all Arike who kept their own heads down or looked nervously askance at the large party of soldiers. Benais-arik had no wall to protect it, apparently having never needed one before the Hierarchs. The legionaries could have built one of their earthworks around it, encased it in dirt and rock like they had the Summer Halls, but either they didn’t value it enough or hadn’t thought there was any chance of an attack.

  They would think differently now.

  Bashasa led the way down a broad stone-paved road and through the city gate, which was more a symbolic barrier than a strategic one. It stood alone across the road, four tall columns wreathed with carved flowers and vines, crowned by multiple pointed arches. It had been brightly painted once, the colors now faded and weathered. The legionaries who guarded it didn’t salute or acknowledge “Karanis’” passing.

  The avenue beyond the gate was broad too, lined with rambling buildings of stone or sandy brick with tile rooftops, some with low walls protecting garden courts, a few two or three stories tall with balconies. It was oddly quiet and they saw more bored legionaries than ordinary people. Narrow alleys allowed passage between some of the structures, but the tension didn’t ease out of Kai’s shoulders until they passed the first sizable cross street; it had felt too much like being herded into a canyon to be trapped.

  As the avenue widened further, the carving and paint on the houses was richer, there were more balconies and unshuttered windows, and bright-colored awnings shaded walkways for passersby. They only saw a few legionaries who seemed to be guarding particular houses, probably those where Hierarch functionaries or Arike traitors lived. Kai had seen a map of the city but he wasn’t sure how far they were from the plaza where they meant to meet the others.

  Disguised as merchants and laborers, Prince-heir Hiranan should be leading her cadre in from the south as Lahshar led hers in from the west canal-side, the other Prince-heirs and their soldiers split between them. There were two different prisons for Arike dissenters in the city and each group would make for the nearest, ready to liberate it as soon as they saw Bashasa’s signal. Kai wanted to lean over to ask Salatel, who rode next to him, how far they had to go, but it might risk betraying their deception. Others in the disguised cadres spoke casually among themselves, probably to take attention away from those like Kai who were not good at acting and were knotted up with pre-battle tension. He was terrified someone would strike at Bashasa while he was out of reach, but everyone had been very clear on the fact that there was no way Karanis and a Hierarch servant-noble would share a horse.

  Speaking in Imperial, a voice called out, “Stop!”

  Kai clenched his jaw to keep from swearing aloud; this was his worst
nightmare about to happen. Bashasa reined in and his cadre leader Arava held up a hand to signal the rest of the troop. Kai didn’t look back to see if there was any disorder as the group halted. Bashasa kept his hat tilted down. Kai hadn’t had a close look at Karanis until after he was a blood-soaked corpse, but Bashasa was about the same size, broad-shouldered with dark curling hair and warm brown skin. But they didn’t look at all alike in the face.

  A person, a man in an elaborate white and gold Arike coat and skirt, strode from the covered walkway toward Bashasa. A server hurried to keep pace just behind him, holding a sun shade over his head, and he was followed by four legionaries and a trailing group of well-dressed people. Kai threw a worried glance at Salatel, who grimaced under the brim of her hat. This was obviously some kind of high official, to be shouting an order at the man he thought was Karanis, the Hierarch-anointed ruler of the city-state of Benais-arik, in public of all places. And the man didn’t look Arike, with skin pale and reddened from the sun, his hair light brown and straight. Which Kai had learned didn’t necessarily mean he wasn’t Arike, but it was a more common look for the archipelagoes or the South. Where so many of the Hierarch servant-nobles came from.

  The man stopped a few steps from Bashasa’s horse and said, “Where are you going, Karanis?” He sounded confident and amused. “To the palace? You should report to the garrison commander. You know what will happen if you haven’t dealt with that escaped dross.”

  Dross was what the legionaries called the Arike and the other eastern peoples. From the low noise Salatel made in her throat, it was clearly worse than it sounded.

  Her head lowered, Arava said, “Great One, you are correct, but Prince-heir Karanis has something he must attend to first. He will—”

  “Answer me, Karanis!” the man snapped.

  Everything went still, even the breeze dropping away, and the silence of the watching mortals sank into Kai’s bones. He felt the breath huff out of his lungs, and one of the horses nearby stamped. There had been so many times where everything could go wrong, where their world could end, where the one painful pitiful spark of hope would die, but those other moments had all gone by so fast they were hard to recall clearly. This one seemed to hang in the air, dangling all of them over the edge of a cliff for an eternity.

  “Ah, well.” Bashasa lifted his head slowly and tipped his hat back. He said pleasantly, “I suppose we should start now, as we mean to go on.”

  The man stared. “Who are you?”

  The server dropped the sunshade. She backed away, incredulous, and said, “Prince-heir…”

  “Run,” Bashasa told her, and drew his sword.

  She bolted. Others on the street scattered and ran. The Hierarch servant-noble stepped back but Kai saw the flash of a blade as Bashasa’s sword sliced the air. The man fell.

  Arava shouted a command and the soldiers behind them roared their reply. Kai snarled in relief and surged forward with the others. He caught a glimpse of the servant-noble on the ground as the clawed feet of his horse pounded over him.

  The streets blurred past as Kai concentrated on staying close behind Bashasa. The Arike were almost as good riders as the Saredi and their aggressive horses were fast and nimble. They broke formation for an abandoned cart and dodged to avoid fleeing mortals. A legionary appeared out of nowhere and raised a spear at Salatel. Her horse swerved away and Kai’s beast lunged in and crunched the man’s shoulder in its fangs before Kai could even reach for him. They left the crumpled body behind and raced onward.

  Loud pops from somewhere nearby told Kai the signals were going off. The archers among the conscripts were firing arrows with burning firepowder sticks into the air. High overhead, the sticks exploded in bursts of light and noise. Hopefully Hiranan and Lahshar and the others would see them, but now that the action had started Kai felt all worries slip away. If they fell, they would fall fighting, and that was all he could ask.

  Around the next corner they plunged into more legionaries gathered to block the way and suddenly the fighting was all around. Kai speared two through their helmets, staying in the circle of riders around Bashasa. Someone shouted in alarm and barely paces away a soldier went down with an arrow in her chest.

  “Kai!” Bashasa shouted. He pointed up. A three-story tower loomed above, figures with bows on the balcony. “Stop them!”

  Kai grimaced; he wanted to stay and make sure Bashasa got through this alive. But his Saredi scout training took over and he sheathed his spear and turned his horse toward the tower even as every nerve in his body protested.

  This would be easier if Ziede was here but she had entered the city by stealth last night with Tahren. They meant to make their way to the tower where the Immortal Blessed well-source, the connection to the Well of Thosaren, was kept. Their goal was to take control of the well-source so no messages for help could be sent to the Hierarchs through it. They had thought first to destroy it, but Dahin had pointed out that answering any messages that came in would buy them more time. Kai wouldn’t know if they had succeeded or not until he saw them again. Or if Blessed ascension rafts arrived to destroy them from the air.

  He reached the wall and reined in, and stood up in the stirrups. His horse snorted and danced but he grabbed on to the carved lintel of a window. He pulled himself up and rammed his shoulder into the wood lattice and rolled right through it, and landed on the floor in a pile of splinters. Mortals screamed and fled. He ignored them, scrambling upright and throwing himself through the nearest door into a stairwell.

  He raced up past walls painted with dancing figures. At the next landing he heard light steps behind him and looked back, but it was Telare, Cerala, and Nirana. They should have stayed with Bashasa and his cadre, but it was a little late to give that order now. Kai rounded the corner and almost ran into the sword of a richly dressed mortal. He ducked back from the blade and caught the man’s wrist.

  Kai didn’t have enough time to draw out all his life, just enough to make him fall down. Every breath of delay might mean another dead ally, might mean Bashasa’s life. He shoved the collapsing body aside and plunged up the last short flight into the top floor of the tower.

  Several mortals huddled against the back wall, their fear telling Kai they were non-combatants. Some were children, some adults already bruised and battered. The wide landing was in disarray, cushions flung around, a table broken into splintered pieces. Two legionaries stood near the trapped mortals, guarding a half-open door into a sunlit room. Through that room would be the balcony, and the legionaries armed with bows. Not a problem necessarily for Kai, but he didn’t want his cadre hurt. He had to make this quick and quiet. The gesture shielded by his body, he motioned for his cadre to wait; their footsteps halted on the stairs behind him.

  The two legionaries turned and stared, confused by Kai’s appearance; he had moved almost silently and he was dressed like a servant-noble. In that heartbeat of hesitation, Kai strode across the landing. He reached the first legionary and grabbed the lower half of the man’s face; before he could react, Kai took his breath, then his life. The second legionary should have cried out for help, or in warning, but he stabbed Kai in the side with a short spear instead. The blow rocked Kai, but he wrapped an arm around the spear and held it in place as Cerala and Telare rushed up onto the landing.

  Telare drove her sword into a gap in the armor over the legionary’s gut and Cerala cut his throat before he could do more than gurgle. Kai let his desiccated legionary drop and wrenched the spear out of his side. Nirana had gone ahead to the half-open doorway. She used a pocket mirror to take a quick look inside, then signaled to Kai that it was clear.

  He slipped silently past her. It was another room with tumbled couches and bedding, with open doors leading out to the broad balcony. Half a dozen legionaries stood out there with two servant-nobles. All the legionaries had bows, aiming down at the fighting below. There was no help for it, they all had to go at once.

  Kai was close enough, barely two paces away, and he had the pain from the already closing spear wound to power the intention. He crouched, and sketched the design on the wooden floor of the balcony.