“Well, it was really amusing,” said Makari. “Especially when the Catresou got desperate enough to defile themselves with my magic.”
Romeo thought of Vai, her grief for her family and her brother. He thought of the girl he and Paris had met in the Lower City, keeping her father as a revenant in her room because she hoped the Night Game might save him. He thought of the people he’d seen drugged and locked in cages, as they waited to be sacrifices for the Master Necromancer.
He could understand—not forgive, but he could understand wanting revenge on the whole clan that had killed his beloved. He couldn’t understand spreading that revenge to the whole world.
“Why are you even telling me this?” he asked quietly.
“Because you’re my friend,” said Makari. “And I want you there with me, after the end of all things. I told the Catresou a lot of lies when I got their help, but one part of it was true. Whoever opens the gates of death will have power afterward. We can be like a family together.”
Romeo remembered sobbing as Makari had died in his arms. He didn’t quite understand why he had no tears now, but one thing was exactly the same: this feeling that the entire universe was ripping apart, and reforming itself into something incomprehensible.
But he’d already seen his world torn to pieces several times over. He knew how to bear it.
“I’m going to stop you,” he said.
Makari sighed.
“Paris,” he said, “guard Romeo. If he tries to escape, kill him.” Then he shrugged at Romeo. “Sorry, but rest assured that I will raise you promptly.”
Romeo’s heart was pounding against his ribs. “Then why not do it already? You know I’ll be more obedient.”
“Mm, yes,” Makari allowed. “But honestly, it’s depressing when everyone in the house is a mindless slave.”
“If you won’t kill me now,” said Romeo, “it’s because you know in your heart that this is wrong. It’s because you don’t want to kill and enslave more than you must, and you don’t need to—”
Makari flicked two fingers at his forehead. “Which one of us has been through the Ruining and the collapse of a whole world, you or me? I assure you, I know what it takes to accomplish my will.”
“I can’t let you do this,” said Romeo.
“You really don’t have a choice, do you? But don’t worry. I will give you Juliet, when I’m done using her as a key and everything is over. The four of us will be together, forever.” He ruffled Romeo’s hair. “Won’t that be nice?”
17
RUNAJO WAS NOT AFRAID.
She didn’t feel much of anything, not in her heart, not since Juliet had come back from the Great Offering two days ago.
But her body didn’t seem to agree. Nauseous, fear-like waves passed through her stomach as she knelt at the table, flipping through another old Catresou book.
There’s a solution, she told herself. There has to be a way to set Juliet free.
Sunjai and Inyaan were still working on the calculations for the new walls. Between the three of them, they would surely have an answer soon. So right now, the real problem was Juliet being bound to kill Romeo the next time she saw him, and likely to die when Runajo walked into Death.
Somebody knocked on the door of the study.
“Yes?” Runajo called out.
The door opened, and a serving girl peeked in. “Lord Ineo wants to see you.”
“Of course,” said Runajo, rising. Another fear-like pang cramped her stomach, and she told herself that it might not be anything terrible. There were many reasons that Lord Ineo might want to talk to her.
But she wasn’t surprised when he handed her a cup of tea and said, “I have word from the High Priestess. The sacrifices have helped, but not enough.”
Runajo gulped a mouthful, and felt the too-hot liquid slide down her throat.
“Maybe they weren’t offered properly,” she said.
“You doubt your own Sisters?” Lord Ineo raised his eyebrows.
“They’re not my Sisters anymore,” said Runajo. “Surely by now, I have proved myself a Mahyanai?”
She could almost hear Juliet saying, Of course, because you’re a murderer.
“Your loyalty is admirable,” Lord Ineo said dryly. “What I wonder at is your effectiveness.”
Runajo’s heart thumped. “I will do whatever you command of me.”
“I commanded you to make sure the Juliet protected the sacrifice.” His voice remained gentle, but Runajo still had to repress a flinch.
“She did. All twenty prisoners died, and several of the attackers as well.” Runajo set the cup down, keeping her voice calm but determined. “And you cannot blame me for giving her no orders about Romeo. We all thought him dead.”
“He is dead,” said Lord Ineo, and Runajo couldn’t help her shoulders hunching a little as she remembered the grief twisting Juliet’s face.
Remembered, too, the earnest boy who had badgered her with poems but who had also—long ago—been the closest thing she had to a friend.
“What do you want of me?” she asked.
“An obedient Juliet,” said Lord Ineo.
“I already promised you that.” And she had never, in her whole life, regretted anything so much.
“There’s to be another sacrifice tomorrow,” said Lord Ineo. “Just two prisoners, but we’re going to keep offering as many each week. The High Priestess says that will be optimal for maintaining the strength of the walls.”
The High Priestess had a whole Cloister of Sisters to calculate the sacred mathematics for her. Runajo just had Sunjai and Inyaan and her own wits, and it wasn’t enough. She still believed they could solve the problem—but not before the next day. Not before she had to give Juliet the order to assist again in the slaughter of her people.
If you had ever loved me, you would have killed me.
Runajo looked up at Lord Ineo and said, “She will be obedient. I promise.”
The next morning, she found Juliet in one of the courtyards, practicing sword work alone. Runajo wondered why that other girl—Arajo, had her name been?—was not there with her, and then put the thought aside. She didn’t have the right to wonder.
Juliet lowered her sword as Runajo approached. She turned to face her, but kept her eyes meekly fixed on the floor.
She knew already why Runajo was there. The news had been flying through the clan the night before.
“Juliet, I order you to go with Subcaptain Xu, obey her orders for the length of today, and protect the sacrifice.”
The words felt like dust and ash in Runajo’s throat. But she had to say them. Lord Ineo was going to have Juliet killed if she didn’t. And she knew, she knew this was wrong. But she didn’t have anything left, except this desperate attempt to keep the girl who had once been her friend alive.
Juliet didn’t look up. She didn’t give Runajo one single glance as she walked away.
Runajo went back to her room. She took out the papers on which she had worked on her share of the equations for the new walls. She tried to check them over, but her mind felt numb and the calculations were dead on the page.
Sunjai hadn’t sent word yet. Maybe she had abandoned the project. Maybe Runajo was all alone in her quest—and she’d been like that before. She remembered when facing down the entire Sisterhood had only made her more determined.
But she couldn’t remember how to be that girl anymore. She tried to imagine being that strong and that sure, feeling anything except this dull, miserable weight inside her chest, and she couldn’t.
Runajo stared at the scribbles on the paper and thought, Why am I even fighting?
She had wanted to save Juliet, and she had only destroyed her. She had wanted to save Viyara, and she’d found it was only a charnel house of blood and guilt. She had wanted, once, to understand the secret truth of the world. And the only truth she’d found was that everything existed only by murder, and that she didn’t care as much as she thought she would.
If Viyara fell to the Ruining, if they all died now, what did it even matter? In another year they would have all killed each other anyway.