Girls of Storm and Shadow (Girls of Paper and Fire, #2)(9)
He pauses, his piercing stare tracking slowly over the group. “This is a problem for us. Our original plan was for Wren to quietly assassinate the King, therefore keeping our involvement a secret and allowing us to have Kenzo lead our revolution from within. But after the events of the Moon Ball, the court knows we have been plotting against the King. Our allies and I have been exiled from the Hidden Palace, with bounties placed on our heads for treason—with any who support us to be condemned to the same sentence.”
A hush has settled over the room. The only sounds are fire-crackle and the low song of the wind.
“The fate of the palace hangs in a vulnerable position,” Ketai summarizes, “either to be open to attack once the rest of Ikhara becomes aware of the King’s death or for the royal line to be continued under false pretenses, damaging all that we have worked for.”
“Has an interim leader been appointed?” Merrin asks, worry in his croaky voice. Wind flutters the tips of his feathers as he watches the Clan Lord intently, his taloned hands folded neatly in his lap.
There is a grim set to Ketai’s mouth. “It appears the King left instructions for who would rule in his absence. He chose General Naja. The fox demon is one of his personal guards and closest confidants.”
At the mention of Naja’s name, my heart gives a dull kick. I swap a dark look with Wren. I know she’s remembering the same scene I am: the white fox, her pointed vulpine jaw pink with spit and blood, relentless in her fury, setting first upon Zelle, then me, then Wren, then—
“What about Kenzo?” I blurt out. “Do we know whether he’s…”
“Alive?” Ketai responds calmly. “He was seriously injured after the Moon Ball. But yes, our Wolf lives. My spies tell me he is being kept imprisoned at Lunar Lake, where the court sends all of its political prisoners.”
I loose a long exhale, slumping back with relief.
“I told you she couldn’t beat him,” Wren whispers. She brushes my arm with her fingers, just for a moment, and I respond with a wobbly smile, tears stinging my eyes.
“I met her once.”
All of us are visibly startled at the sound of Hiro’s soft voice. He’s looking away, staring out over the lake. Firelight glides across the smooth curve of his scalp.
“When the King’s army came for my shaman clan,” he continues, muted, “she was leading the raid. She took joy in killing those who resisted.”
Ketai’s face is somber. “General Naja being in command is certainly unfortunate for us. She is one of the most aggressively anti-Paper demons in the court and is fully committed to continuing the Demon King’s legacy of oppression. We can be sure that under her guidance, the court will not make decisions that are favorable for us. Especially now.” His lips pinch, and he pauses a moment before continuing, a flinty edge to his voice now, “My final piece of news is a personal one. As you all know, the day before the New Year, my wife—Wren’s adoptive mother—was murdered.”
My eyes cut sideways to Wren. She’s watching her father, her mouth a tight line, her stare hard and unblinking. I shift a fraction closer, pressing the side of my thigh to hers. Her mother’s death is a topic Wren has refused to talk about with me. Just like me with so much of what happened at the palace, she’s been holding it somewhere inside her, too deep for me to reach.
Sadness flickers in my chest. Before, we could talk about everything. Before, it seemed as though the only thing between our happiness was the King and the palace itself.
That once we left, we would be free.
“I wasn’t in our bedroom that night,” Ketai continues into the quiet. “Perhaps if I had been, things would have been different. Instead, I fell asleep in the early hours of the morning in one of my council rooms, having spent the whole night going over our plans for the next day one final time.” He glances at Shifu Caen. “You remember how it was, my friend. Though we knew myriad things could go wrong, somehow we were so certain it would work. That all of our plans and dedication these past years—past decades—were about to pay off. I slept soundly that morning for the first time in weeks, drunk on confidence and anticipation. We were so certain,” he repeats hollowly.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I was woken by my guards a few minutes past seven. My wife’s maids had gone to fetch her for her morning bath. They found her lying in bed, seemingly unharmed, apart from the fact that her blood was cold and her heart lifeless in her ribs. The only sign that she had been attacked was a black mark on her chest. The Demon King’s insignia.”
Wren’s eyes drop to her lap.
Bo sucks in a breath, sharing a dark look with his sister.
“Ketai,” Merrin says slowly, “you didn’t tell us this.”
“I needed to be sure of it first. I had my most-trusted medical and spiritual advisers analyze Bhali’s body. The process took longer than I thought, as we had to be discreet. And the magic that was used was so refined and powerful it was unlike anything any of us had come across. That’s why I was late coming here. My apologies for not sending word. I couldn’t risk it.”
“So it was the King,” I mutter. My voice catches.
“It would seem so. But we cannot be certain. The attack could also have been issued by someone trying to make us believe it was him. Someone who knew of our plans and wanted Wren out of the palace.”