“They will find thorns for bones within me.”
“So what will you become, then, Elena? Villain, hero, or conqueror?”
Her voice was low, lush, vicious. “None. I will be greater than all three.”
CHAPTER 57
ELENA
The council hereby finds King Kilis of Karven guilty of crimes against humanity of the first order. Punishment rendered: execution. Note: This is the first execution by council of a regent. May it be the last.
—from chapter 45 ofThe Great History of Sayon
The Tsuana harbor curved into the neck of a hammerhead shark, the long cut of the land stretching out toward the sea, Janoon, proud and resilient, rising like a sword within it. The pearl city, they called it. Pure and honorable, made from the richest Tsuani marble and strongest Jantari steel, a bastion of law and honor. The last time the council met, Seshar had bled red into the sea, and yet not one drop had marred the perfect face of the city.
Elena wanted to rake her blood through it.
They were led into the palace under guard. Janoon Palace was shaped into the contours of a conch shell, its exterior bright and white, its interior iridescent with hues of pink and lavender. Round doors made of stone and decked with nacreous chipped shells opened to tall, curved hallways. Fish swam beneath her feet through glass streams. Everywhere she looked,Elena saw attendants dressed in soft, luxurious wraps and tinkling headpieces. No dirt lined their fingernails. No soot speckled their wrists. What an image they made then, she and Samson, as they sauntered in with their bloodied and torn battlesuits.
“But, ma-madam, I mean, Your Majesty, the council is already in session,” an attendant said as he stumbled beside her. “They haven’t been informed of your arrival.”
“Good, it’ll be a surprise, then.”
“But, Your Majesty, there is only one seat. Your guest—esteemedguest—must wait out here.”
Elena came to a stop. She turned to the attendant, and he leaned away. “I believe my fellow council members will be interested in what he has to say, Ka Tirta.”
Tirta flushed. “O-of course, Your Majesty. But you all are armed. I can’t let you—”
Elena unclipped her slingsword, her pulse gun. Samson slowly unlooped his urumi and set it carefully in the attendant’s hand.
Without waiting, Elena entered a long hallway lined with guards and staff members from the different kingdoms. Cyleoni, Karvenese, Verani, Jantari. They turned as she marched, and Elena savored their startled gasps. Tsuani guarded the doors, but they paled at her approach.
“You’re in my way, soldiers,” she said.
One of the guards hesitated, the other looking to Tirta for direction. Suddenly, every guard quieted. The air tightened, sharpened, and Elena felt the weight of their stares, the nervous energy in which they touched their guns.
“Your Majesty,” Tirta said. “Please. Why don’t you rest for a moment? We will inform the council, let you properly introduce yourself—”
“I have sailed through the Black Pit, lost half my crew, and survived a mutiny and a drowning to come here, Ka Tirta. You can step aside, or I will add a felled Tsuani attendant to my list.”
Tirta swallowed, hard. Then he waved his hand, and the guards stepped aside.
Elena pushed open the great heavy doors with a resounding boom.
Voices died mid-conversation as all the mighty kings and queens turned to scowl at the intruder. Their scowls gave way to confusion, then shock.
“Esteemed members of the council,” she began.
The Verani king turned white, jowls open, as the Karvenese queen shared a look with Syla and the Tsuani monarch. The attendants who fluttered behind their regents stared at her as if she were a ghost, or a demon resurrected, their gazes snagging on her bandaged arm, her swollen face, her bloodied hands. Only Farin did not look shaken. Only he met her eyes, and a slow, amused smile crept across his lips. She returned it.
“I, Elena Aadya Ravence, have come to take my seat.”
Without waiting, she settled into the empty chair designated for Ravence. Samson stood behind her. His Agni burned coolly, and she was grateful for its steady strength, its limitless wrath. The others simply stared.
Queen Risha of Tsuana was the first to recover. Her headpiece, an intricately crafted crown of shells and silver, tinkled softly as she said, “Q-Queen Elena. We thought—I thought—you were dead. How did you get here?”
“Now, that is an interesting question,” Elena said, watching an attendant whisper quickly into Farin’s ear.
