Page 92 of City of Stone and Silence

“Is that your goal?” Toranaka sits back. “We of the Cresos are under sentence of death from the Emperor. This is our home now, and we cannot simply hand it over to an outsider.”

I wonder if I should tell him that the Emperor who sentenced them is himself long dead, along with everyone else alive at the time. It might not matter as far as the sentence is concerned, of course. Emperors come and go, but the bureaucracy remembers.

“Lady Catoria, please.” I bow my head. “Silvoa wanted this, didn’t she?”

From Shiara’s quick intake of breath, I sense this is the wrong thing to say. Catoria’s eyes are hooded.

“Lord Toranaka is right,” she says, after a pregnant pause. “Even if you were to succeed, Lady Isoka, how can we trust you?”

“But—”

She blinks, and for a moment there are tears in her eyes. “This audience is at an end.”

“I should have warned you,” Shiara says. “Catoria feels … very strongly about Silvoa.”

“So did Gragant,” I say. “That’s what convinced him, in the end.”

“It’s different,” Shiara says, quietly.

We’re in an anteroom, furnished in the same quasi-Imperial style with hangings, cushions, and a low table. Two guardsmen wait outside, so we speak in low voices. Someone has gone to fetch Jack, who will be accompanying us home.

“Different how?” I say.

Meroe, who has been very quiet thus far, says, “They were lovers, weren’t they?”

“I don’t know,” Shiara says. “But Catoria loved Silvoa, for a certainty. When Silvoa went with Gragant to confront Prime, over Catoria’s objections, Catoria felt betrayed.”

“But it was Prime who killed Silvoa,” I say. “Surely Catoria wants him to pay for that?”

“I suspect she is unclear in her mind on the subject,” Shiara says. “Which means she looks to Toranaka for guidance.”

“Rotting great.” My hands clench tight. “So what in the Blessed’s name are we supposed to do now?”

I look at Meroe, my beautiful Meroe, who always has all the answers. Her forehead is creased in deep thought. When she notices us staring, she gives a rueful smile and shakes her head.

My fists clench tighter. Outside, I know, the sun is sliding toward the horizon. How much longer does Tori have?

17

TORI

“So how does it look?” Garo says.

They’re cleaning the bodies out of the road.

Not even bodies, really. Pieces of bodies. Remnants of bodies. Things that used to be people, until they were hit with Myrkai fire, torn apart with Tartak force, cut down with Melos blades, or dissected by fighters with Rhema speed.

No wonder the Immortal captain had been so confident. Any normal mob would have broken under the onslaught of her adepts. Any mob still capable of fear.

I can see the cleaners, through a gap in the window curtain. Some of them are using brooms.

“Ward Guard cavalry has sortied a few times to keep the area around the gates clear,” someone says. “But otherwise they’re staying put. The ward wall is fully manned on the uphill side, and facing the military highway.”

“But not facing the Sixteenth.” Hasaka. His voice is ragged with exhaustion.

“They pulled out of there after midnight,” Giniva says. “Back to the outer wall on one side and the military highway on the other. There have been a few messengers from the Sixteenth. Apparently riots broke out there about the same time they did here, but no one has really taken charge.”

“Textbook tactics,” Hasaka says. “Encircle the infection, wait while it burns itself out, then tighten the noose.”