Your neck is thicker than both her arms. If she manages to best you, you deserve to die, Hanim said. I frowned, resisting the urge to check the circumference of my neck.
The stairs flattened into a small landing. A light flickered to life, revealing Vaida holding a candle. I could only see a few feet in either direction. The darkness at the edges roiled. Alive. Hungry. My skin crawled. I felt like an intruder, violating the sanctity of a space only meant to be occupied by the woman in front of me.
“This hideaway belonged to Baira. Every Sultana after her inherits this chamber, and the darkness shapes itself to the will of its new owner. If you think it’s daunting now, you should have seen it when my mother commanded it.” She raised the candle higher, and my attention fixed on her ring. A ring that essentially doubled as a key to the Sultana’s most private hideaway. The seed of an idea took root in the back of my mind.
“Why am I here?”
The lights flickered over her smiling mouth. Behind her head, strips of parchment were stuck to the wall, dozens and dozens of them, names scrawled across each one with black ink.
“I need a favor from you, Sylvia.” She spoke my name with a familiarity reserved for lifetime friendships. “You have to lose the Alcalah.”
I paused. She lured me into a dungeon teeming with malice to ask if I would forfeit the Alcalah? I picked through possible replies, searching for the most respectful version of “I would rather choke on a muddy sandal.”
“Can you read?” Vaida asked abruptly. She held the candle toward the wall, sending shadows over the pinned names.
I was fluent in every kingdom’s native language, even the ones rarely used anymore. A skill Arin had discovered by tricking me into reading the scroll on his table. Our languages blended into uniformity a century ago, and only a few villages spoke anything else.
“No.” A village orphan would have traded literacy for labor.
She glanced over her shoulder, assessing me for dishonesty. Apparently, it was only Arin whom my stoicism could not fool, because she turned back without arguing. “These are names. Members of Sultana Bisai’s council. Palace staff. Everyone who played a role in murdering my mother is on this wall.”
Sultana Vaida moved to the left, illuminating an entirely new set of names. “These are suspected Nizahl spies in Lukub. There are many I cannot locate. Spies sent under Supreme Munqual’s reign have been in Lukub for decades. Supreme Rawain instituted a practice early in his power where Nizahl orphans were trained and sent into foreign kingdoms. They could grow older there, become part of the community. Supreme Rawain planted children in our kingdoms to spy on us, left those insidious seeds to take root and drain our resources.”
The light shifted for an instant, outlining rows and rows of different names before Vaida spun around. “Do you think I killed my mother?” She sounded vaguely entertained, like a child asking their parent to guess a number.
“I saw the wells in Essam Woods,” I said. “The people you left to rot within them. If you are asking me whether I believe you are capable of killing your mother, I am afraid you will not relish my response.”
Vaida trilled a laugh. It echoed, bouncing off the cavernous borders. “Oh, but I see why Arin likes you. You have the boiling hate of a peasant, and the tongue of a royal.”
The darkness crooned, crowding closer. The candle in Vaida’s palm was the only barrier keeping the shadows from wrapping their fingers around us. I wanted to beat a speedy retreat, but even the stairs had been swallowed into gloom.
“I cannot lose the Alcalah, Sultana. I apologize if Nizahl has caused you trouble, but I owe a duty.”
Sultana Vaida stepped closer. The cupped candle pressed between us, and in the emptiness behind her, rows upon rows of women materialized, the jeweled Lukub crown glinting on each head. They were gone between one heartbeat and the next, but the darkness teemed with their presence. Lukub’s Sultanas. The will of Vaida manifested in Baira’s dungeon.
“You owe Nizahl no fidelity. If you lose, Nizahl will forsake you. Felix’s ego has deprived you of a haven in Omal. You won’t be safe in Orban, either. Orban’s trade relationship with Omal allows Felix the right to whisk any Omalian citizen back to their rightful kingdom for a tribunal. Or in your case, an execution.”
The angular lines of Vaida’s face sharpened in the dim light. Her chest swelled, pressing the candle between us.
“I can give you a home, Sylvia. Point at any building in Lukub, and I will make it yours. Felix’s patrol can’t touch you within my kingdom’s borders. Any leadership position in my army will open to you before anyone else.”
The casual treachery in her offer intrigued me. She would go against her fellow rulers, earn the ire of Omal and Nizahl combined, all for the sake of winning the Alcalah?
The darkness closed in around us, and I couldn’t tell which danger to assess: the one at my back or the one smiling at me. I circled my wrists with thumb and finger, reassuring myself with the chilled metal of my cuffs.
“Why ask this of me? I could lose on my own, without any incentive.”
Vaida flipped her wrist, brushing aside the question. “The three Champions Arin has chosen over the last nine years have emerged the Victor. Nizahl has not lost an Alcalah since Arin was a child. I am confident he has chosen another winner.”
My breathing grew labored, fighting against the press of night on all sides. The darkness smelled like fruit forgotten in the heat, sweet and rotten. I pushed my knuckles against my mouth, suppressing a gag.
“Yes, Baira’s chambers are inhospitable to those who don’t possess the ring. I suffered the same reaction when my mother brought me here.” The candle burned low, the wick reduced to a nub. We had moments until the light vanished. “Think carefully on your course of action, my darling. Think of your little chemist, hobbling around in his shop. That ramshackle keep and its disheveled orphans. The chatty girl and her chairs. If you become the Alcalah’s Victor, I cannot harm you. But Arin is not the only one capable of visiting destruction on his enemies. Felix owes me a debt; he can be persuaded to forget a few tragic accidents in a lower village.”
My cuffs warmed. Some of the darkness receded as my magic surged, responding to her threat. Grief. Rage. Fear.
“What benefit do you gain if I lose? Are you so determined to see your Champion triumph?”
The shadows skittered away, the hum of my magic ringing in the hollows. “Do not fret over my gain. Busy yourself with the thought of what you stand to lose. Consider your loved ones.” Vaida stepped away, putting her back to the opposite wall. A chilling determination glinted in her gaze. She took another step backward. “Above all, consider yourself.” One last step, and the dying candle cast its light over the wall behind her. Dozens of faces, mouths opened in soundless screams, protruded from the wall. Their skin was stretched and mottled, eyes a gaping hole in their bleached skulls.
In front of them, Vaida smiled, and the shadows extinguished the light.