“How far did Makari get with his ceremony?” asked Runajo.
“I stopped him,” Juliet protested. “The land of the dead started to open around us, like it did with Romeo, but I stopped him.”
But she already knew what Runajo was thinking: that opening the doors of death might have gone no further than with Romeo, but that had been before the Catresou attempt. The walls were already weakened now. The world was weakened.
The world shivered.
It was the same unearthly movement-that-was-not-movement that Juliet had felt when Makari tried to open the gates of death. Her whole body was tensed up with pure and simple fear, the need to run or fight, but there was nothing to fight and nowhere to run, and she had stopped Makari.
“Something’s happening.” Runajo licked her lips. She was very pale, and there was a strange emotion rolling off her in waves. It wasn’t exactly fear; it was too numb and sick and all-encompassing for that.
“It’s the Ruining,” said Paris. “It’s getting closer.”
“How can you tell?” Juliet demanded.
Paris looked at them, and in this moment there was nothing awkward or hesitant about him, only a terrible, cold calm.
“I’m still dead. Those he raised? Death still calls to us. It’s closer now. I can hear it.” His voice grew softer. “We’re going to rest soon.”
Vai smacked the side of his head. “Not yet,” he said, and a very human half smile flickered across Paris’s face.
Runajo said, “I have a plan.”
22
WHEN THEY FINALLY REACHED THE Exalted’s palace, it was the middle of the night. Runajo wasn’t at all sure that she and Juliet would even be allowed inside, let alone that Sunjai would come see them. But she had forgotten that not everyone followed the strict nighttime rituals of the Sisters. The palace lamps were alight, and as they were led to the receiving room, they heard music and laughter drifting down the hallways.
Everyone said that the Exalted would amuse himself with dancing girls at the very edge of doom, and now it was true.
After several minutes of waiting silently in the little receiving room, staring at the ivory whorls and curlicues sculpted into the wall and trying not to think about the way the revenants had hissed and screeched, the door swung open and Sunjai walked in. Her hair was loose from its braids, which meant she had probably been hauled out of bed, but she seemed awake enough.
“Do you know, Lord Ineo was here earlier?” said Sunjai. “He seemed convinced you would have told me where you were taking the Juliet.”
So they were already being hunted for. Runajo was not surprised; it was why Juliet had decided to come with her instead of going back to the Mahyanai compound.
“Lord Ineo doesn’t matter now,” she said. “You’d better have finished your part of the calculations or we’re all dead.”
In the moment of silence that followed, it occurred to Runajo that now was probably not the best time to antagonize Sunjai.
On the other hand, Sunjai had already agreed to help Runajo even though she had never been anything but unpleasant to her.
“Did something happen,” asked Sunjai, “or were you just reminding me of the situation? Because one of us has seen the Mouth of Death standing dry, and it wasn’t you.”
“We found the necromancer and killed him,” said Juliet. “But he got too close to opening the gates of death. The dead are rising in moments. We think the walls are coming down.”
“Which means we need the new walls up now,” said Runajo.
“She means tomorrow,” said Juliet. “After the people from the Lower City get inside.”
Sunjai raised her eyebrows. “That fast? It’s going to take some doing.”
“We’ll do it,” said Runajo, horribly aware that they were not going to get everyone inside. A lot of people were going to die very soon, because they didn’t have enough time. But the only alternative was everyone dying.
That had always been the way of Viyara.
“We have a plan,” said Juliet. “Can you do your part?”
“I never knew the sword of the Catresou was this talkative,” Sunjai said musingly, looking at Runajo.
“Yes, well, none of you people know anything about the Catresou, do you?” said Juliet.
Sunjai grinned. “I’ll wake Inyaan. We can start the preparations.”
Juliet had given Paris two orders before they parted.
“Help Vai spread the word,” she said. “And find Justiran’s daughter, if you can.”
It wasn’t until halfway through their planning that they had realized she had slipped away. They had tried to find her at once, but without success. Runajo still believed that she might help them finally end the Ruining, and Juliet trusted Runajo; so as Paris and Vai ran through the streets, he kept looking for the Little Lady, straining to sense any remaining hint of Makari’s power that might reveal her.
But he caught no glimpse of her, and he was afraid that he would fail his duty again.
“I think it’s her night to patrol this neighborhood,” said Vai, turning a corner. And there, learning against the wall by a fountain, Paris could see the shadowed form of Subcaptain Xu, the woman who had brought the City Guard to help them stop Lord Catresou.
She had also helped stand guard at Lord Ineo’s sacrifices. Now that Paris’s mind was his own again, not continually shattering under the weight of Makari’s power, he could remember that.
He didn’t want to ask her for help, but he knew they didn’t have a choice. And he had certainly shed more than enough Catresou blood himself.
“How do you know her schedule?” he asked.
“I’m clever,” said Vai. “Have to be.” And she strode forward, shoulders back, chin up.
“Haven’t seen you in a while,” said Xu as they approached. Then her gaze fell on Paris. “I heard you were dead.”
“It’s catching, but not always permanent,” said Vai. “And not important right now. A necromancer weakened the city walls before we could stop him, and the whole Lower City is going to be covered in the Ruining very soon. You’ve got to start an evacuation. There will be walls around the Upper City.”
There was a short silence.
“Really?” said Xu.
“Well, to be honest, I don’t know the chances that the smaller walls will work,” said Vai. “But if they don’t, we’re all dead anyway, so it doesn’t much matter if you’ve wasted your time, does it?”
“You’ve got proof of this?” asked Xu.
In answer, Vai whipped out a knife and sliced a short, shallow line across Paris’s cheek.
“He’s living dead now,” she said. “Listen to him.”
Paris hadn’t had time to react to the cut. But now swift, cold dread pounded through his chest, because Xu belonged to the City Guard, and she would—she would—
Part of him still wanted to die. Part of him always would. But the Juliet had given him orders. He had never thought that he would be lucky enough to serve her again. And he didn’t want to abandon Romeo or Vai, either.
But though Xu’s hand dropped to her sword, she did not draw and cut him down. After a moment she looked at Vai and said, “Still you find ways to surprise me. This is your idea of persuasion?”
“It’s about to be your idea, because you’re going to realize I’m right and do what I say.” Vai paused. “Probably.”
“You are insane,” said Paris. He looked at Vai. “It’s true. I was killed and raised by a necromancer. His plan was to destroy the walls and open the gates of death.”
“Popular plan,” Vai muttered.
“He nearly succeeded. We killed him, but he got too far first. The Ruining has changed, I can feel it. If you don’t start an evacuation, a lot of people will die.”
“Also,” Vai put in, “quite possibly anyone who dies will rise instantly now.”
Xu’s eyebrows went up. “‘Possibly’?”
“Saw it happen with a crowd of living dead we slaughtered. Did not choose to test it on a crowd of innocent living folk.” Vai shrugged. “But I would call it very likely.”
Xu pinched her nose. “It’s a terrible night for this.”