Girls of Storm and Shadow (Girls of Paper and Fire, #2)(15)
Though she didn’t show it, Naja’s focus tightened.
“Four nights ago,” the Councilor went on, “my shamans detected the presence of qi work in the perimeter of the palace. Its immediate movements were too quick for them to follow on foot—no doubt the Lord was on horseback—but they managed to track him the next few days through the echoes of his enchantments to a location northeast of the Hidden Palace, almost equidistant between Marazi and the River Zebe. He was traveling with another man who I’d be willing to bet is his closest adviser, Master Caen. The two are known to be almost inseparable. From this point out, no doubt believing they had made their exit without being spotted, the two of them dropped their magical guard and continued north, into the mountains bordering Han and Rain.”
“And then?”
Shiu hesitated. Spreading his fingers on the table, he took an inhale before admitting, “The blizzard and mountain terrain made it difficult for my spies. They lost track of Lord Hanno and Master Caen in the mountains.” He licked his lips, and crumbs tumbled from his chin as he continued eagerly, “But it disproves the popular theory that Lord Hanno would travel south to meet with the Cat Clan—his most likely alliance, as we are all aware. The northern mountains are restrictive. There are not many places they could be traveling to. My guess would be either they are heading to Rain to meet with the Noon Clan or to the White Wings’ palace in Shomu. If you wish, General, I could send my scouts—”
Naja lifted a hand. “Thank you, Councilor. That won’t be necessary. We can take it from here.”
“Of course. Now, uh…” His smile twitched; he leaned in closer. “I don’t mean to assume, General, but you did mention a reward for information such as this.”
Naja’s fur bristled. The cheek of this man. Papers were always like this; assuming they deserved things. Demanding more.
“Don’t worry, Councilor,” she replied smoothly. “You shall be rewarded. What would you prefer? Something of monetary value, or a decree for a full royal pardon should you ever need it?”
Shiu’s eyes glittered. “A royal pardon is truly generous.…”
With a nod, Naja started to her feet. It was the answer she had been expecting.
“And yet.”
She stopped. On her feet, the white fox towered over the Councilor, but despite the intense look she gave him he didn’t seem to cower. He met her eyes and smiled, something dark behind his flash of crooked teeth.
“I think I’ll take the monetary reward.”
Naja knew immediately what Councilor Shiu was declaring with his choice: that he didn’t believe in the power of the court anymore. That he thought them weak. Even without proper knowledge of what had happened to the King.
After the Moon Ball, the court had tried to keep the news of what had happened from spreading. While they couldn’t hide the fact that the palace had come under attack—there were too many witnesses at the Ball, too many Clan Lords and guests who had to flee for their lives when the Floating Hall went up in flames—Naja had done her best to limit the rumors. She’d made sure no one outside of the court’s inner circle knew that the King had been seriously injured.
Still, she knew the news couldn’t be contained forever. Rumors had leaked from the palace walls like blood through cracks in stone and were spreading across Ikhara in whispers and shocked utterances: the King had been killed. Or, he lived, but had been seriously injured.
The rumors were, like gossip always was, muddled. Some of it had even been directed for their own purposes, such as those they fed to Ketai Hanno’s spies to keep him unaware that his plans to assassinate the King had failed. It was a tactic to delay Hanno’s clans and their allies’ ability to react when they discovered he had survived. All of that gave the court some time. But if they didn’t come together to decide what to do soon, the truth would escape. And, just as truth always did, it would cleave a sword through the very fabric of the world.
It would change everything.
Naja stared down at Councilor Shiu, her silvery eyes gleaming. “A monetary reward it is, then.” She motioned for him to follow her.
He practically skipped to her side. “Thank you, General! I knew you would appreciate my information and the hard work I did to gather it. I am sure it will be of much use to the King. Ever since you put the request out, I had the gods-blessed feeling that I would be the one to deliver it to you.”
Letting his inane babbling wash over her, Naja strode across to the wall where her display swords were mounted. Lantern light cast her fur in a golden tint. She ran her gaze across the swords, her look as loving as a caress.
It took a moment for Shiu to catch on. Then he gasped. “You—you know, General, I have always appreciated beautiful weaponry. Particularly those with honorable histories.”
“Miraculously, something we have in common, Councilor. Does one in particular catch your eye?”
Naja waited as he looked over her collection. When his arm shot out, indicating his choice, she wasn’t the least bit surprised. Though he certainly could pass for one, she knew Shiu was not as much of a fool as he appeared. Like any educated Ikharan, he was well versed in the kingdom’s history.
With care, she lifted the sword he had chosen from the wall. It was a straight-blade saber, quite a common style of dao, though slightly longer and slimmer than average. The scabbard that protected it was garnet red and inlaid with rubies and pearls. As Naja drew the sword free to reveal its infamous black blade, she thought of the times it had been drawn. The impressive opponents it had felled.