“Do you know why?”
“Everyone knows why,” I said, annoyed by his tone—clearly River thought the people of Azmiri knew nothing of the wider world. The witches despised the emperor. He and his ancestors had expanded the Empire far beyond the southern delta, building cities out of villages and villages from barren foothills. The witches, either out of spite or fear, took every chance to attack the emperor’s soldiers. Dozens of patrols disappeared, as if snuffed out in the night, leaving no trace that they had ever been. Terror of the witches spread through the Empire until, finally, the emperor acted. His shamans bound the witches’ powers, trapped them in their human forms, and drove them beyond the Arya Mountains into the dark forests of the Nightwood.
“A lot of people don’t know,” River said, “that the emperor himself cast the binding spell. He holds great power, though these days he primarily uses it to stave off his own mortality. He recently celebrated his two hundred and thirty-first birthday. Not bad for a man who doesn’t look a day over twenty.”
I furrowed my brow. “Father says that’s just a tale told to frighten the emperor’s enemies. That all the emperors since Lozong the First have merely taken his name when they assumed power.”
River let out a short laugh. “Azmiri is a very long way from the Three Cities, isn’t it? I assure you, it’s the truth—I was at the party.”
“So what?” I said, disliking the reminder of how little I knew about River’s world. “What do the witches have to do with any of this?”
“Everything. Many centuries ago, long before the Empire, the witches lived in a great city that they built in the sky. A beautiful and terrible place, inaccessible to ordinary people. No one knows exactly where this city was—it’s possible even the witches have forgotten.”
My heart thudded in my ears as I understood the significance of his words.
“Raksha,” I whispered. “You think it’s on Raksha.”
River rolled several pebbles in his hand, tossing them one after another over the edge. “I believe so. I’ve looked everywhere else. It’s said that this city is where the witches left a powerful talisman. The emperor needs that talisman.”
“Why?”
He tossed another pebble. Far below, I saw a branch shiver. “Because the binding spell has begun to weaken.”
“To weaken?” My voice trailed off as I thought back to my lessons with Chirri. There was one truth about magic that formed the foundation of everything she taught me, so fundamental that it was rarely mentioned, rarely thought about. Like everything else in the world, magic decayed. It was why Chirri had to recast the spells holding up the stone fences on the south side of Azmiri every few years. I had never thought about the binding spell that way—like an old fence that would crumble if ignored.
River nodded. He rubbed a hand absently through his hair, which only exaggerated the part that was always sticking out. “All spells weaken. Even the most powerful. And if the binding spell fails—”
He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t have to. The witches had terrorized Azmiri and the other villages for years before the emperor put a stop to it. What revenge would they take when they regained their powers?
“So the emperor wants this talisman to repair the spell?” I said. “Do the witches know?”
River shrugged. “They may know of the talisman’s existence, but they would have no way of knowing the emperor’s plans.”
“They must realize he would do anything to prevent them from getting their powers back,” I said. “If they find us—if they capture us—”
“They won’t.”
“We’re walking straight into their lands,” I said. “How can you be so certain we’ll be safe?”
“I didn’t say I was certain.” River looked at me. “I’m never certain of anything.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but stopped myself. I was shaking—the sweat from the climb had dried on my skin, and in the twilight shadow of the mountain, the chill was sharp. I watched the tents far below, the flickering glow of the fire Dargye and Aimo had built. Was it safe for us to keep the fire going? I wondered suddenly. We weren’t in the witches’ lands yet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t watching from the shadows, or some hidden ledge high above.
“Should I not have told you the truth?” River said.
I drew my chuba tighter around me. “Yes. I—I’m glad I know.”
But as the sky darkened and the wind began to moan over the peaks, I wasn’t so sure. What River had said was almost too big to comprehend. Could the safety of the Empire—its very existence—truly hinge on this expedition? And if so, that meant that Azmiri would also be in grave danger if we didn’t succeed.
My fear grew, deepening like the shadow that surrounded us. Yet within the fear was a flicker of something else. A fierce determination. I wouldn’t let the witches threaten Azmiri. If I could help River reach the summit, I could save the village, and the Empire with it.
My heart began to pound. I saw myself returning triumphant, and telling Father what I had done. I pictured his face—along with the faces of all my relatives—when they realized that I had helped the Royal Explorer defeat the greatest threat they had ever known.
“You understand, now, why this mission is so important,” River said. “More important than glory. More important than a title.”
His words brought me back to the present. “Then you don’t care if Mara reaches Raksha first?”
River launched another pebble. For a moment, I thought he wasn’t going to answer.
“Mara won’t get there first,” he said. “I will.”
I didn’t know what to make of this. For a long moment, we sat in silence. I knew that we should go—soon it would be too dark to see. But I made no move to rise, and neither did River.
“Can I ask you a question?” he said.
I breathed into my hands. My heart was still beating too quickly. “All right.”
“Who is Tem?”
It was such an unexpected question that I was startled into silence. I gazed at him, but his expression revealed only mild curiosity. “What do you mean? You know who he is.”
“He seems very important to you.”
“Well . . .” I was strangely tongue-tied. “He’s my best friend.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes.” I paused. “I mean—yes. Why do you want to know?”
He wasn’t looking at me. “I don’t. I was just curious.”
His voice was light, but something in it belied his words. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I looked away too, and we both stared at opposite ends of the mountain.
“We should go,” I said, as the silence continued to hover awkwardly between us. “It’s getting dark.”