Knives in the backs of martyrs

Lives in the burning fodder

Cauterised and atrophied

This is my unbecoming

-- Starset, Unbecoming

For the second time in as many months Abi found herself having to face her grandmother and confess to wrongdoing. This time was much more serious than the last. Then she'd only had to admit to necromancy. Now she had to admit to getting someone possessed and getting someone else killed.

She left out the part about Ilaran dying and her bringing him back to life. That would raise too many questions she didn't want to answer. In fact she left Ilaran out of it completely. Instead she gave the impression that this incident was connected to the corpse that had invaded the festival. Her grandmother listened with the look that warned there would be hell to pay as soon as Abi was finished.

"I hope you're proud," Raivíth said at last. "In less than two months you've caused more chaos than all of your cousins put together. And what was this about the palace being burnt? Did you decide to engage in arson?"

Abi winced. She'd skirted around that topic too because she just plain didn't know how to explain it. "Well, you see... It turns out the priests were right after all. I am a phoenix."

Raivíth buried her face in her hands. "So when you turned into one you almost burnt down the palace. I see."

"It wasn't as bad as that," Abi said, then remembered the unfortunate servant. "Er. I may have... I mean..." She steeled herself. "I accidentally got someone killed."

Raivíth started to her feet so abruptly she knocked over the table in front of her. "What?" she roared.

Abi shrank back. She did her best to make herself invisible. It didn't work.

Her grandmother glared at her as she righted the table. "Explain. Now."

Haltingly and with difficulty she explained how she had run into the main palace, found the servant, and accidentally led the possessed Ilaran -- who she referred to only as "the corpse" to continue giving the impression it was the same one that had interrupted the festival -- there. She glossed over the fact the servant had also gotten possessed after being killed. Instead she made it sound like she had accidentally killed her while trying to drive off the parasite.

When she finished her grandmother collapsed back into her chair. For a long time Raivíth didn't say anything. Abi stayed silent too and wished for the floor to open and swallow her.

"By your own admission you've performed dark magic and necromancy, experimented with things best left untouched, raised the dead, and are guilty of involuntary manslaughter at best. Do you think you can do anything you like without consequence?"

Abi shook her head slowly. Once upon a time she had thought that. Now she knew exactly how wrong she'd been.

"If you were anyone else I would exile you right now. Unfortunately that would cause a scandal. That must be avoided at all costs. I don't want anyone else to learn about your crimes. So from now on you're under house arrest. You will not take so much as one step outside your parents' house until I decide what to do. Guards!"

The sitting room door opened and two of the guards outside stepped in. Abi looked at them nervously to see if they'd heard anything of what was said. If they had they didn't let it show on their faces. But then these were the Empress's Personal Guards. Even if they overheard a member of the royal family confess to being a serial killer they wouldn't show any outward reaction.

Raivíth gestured sharply to Abi. "Escort the princess home."

The guards silently followed Abi every step of the way home. They never said a word to her. Their silence and blank faces were infinitely worse than any visible show of anger or disgust.

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What is it about Hartanna's children that makes them such nightmares? Raivíth wondered.

Maybe it was inherited. Hartanna had been quite a nuisance herself as a youngster. At least her wrongdoings had been relatively minor. Her elopement was nothing compared to her youngest daughter's necromancy. And even necromancy was nothing compared to what Imrahil had done.

It had been years since Raivíth had thought of Hartanna's second son. The memory of him walking into the Silver Palace, covered in blood and smiling, came back to her as vividly as if it had happened only yesterday. She shuddered.

As far as outsiders knew Imrahil had drowned in an accident and his body had never been recovered. Abihira probably believed that too. She had been only a baby when it happened. In reality he'd been exiled and never heard of again. Hartanna believed he had died somewhere in exile. Raivíth wasn't so sure.

Immortals warped by dark magic did not die so easily.

Now Abihira was meddling in dark magic too. If she wasn't stopped she could end up like Imrahil. What could Raivíth do to stop her? Putting her on house arrest wouldn't work for long. Sending her to Gengxin would work only because never in a million years would Abihira be sent alone and an older relative's supervision would -- hopefully -- put paid to her necromancy. Exiling her to the country looked more and more like the only possible option. And if that didn't work, she would have to be exiled permanently.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Hartanna's intervention had been all that stopped Imrahil being executed. Opinions varied on whether exile was much kinder than execution in the end. Raivíth had her differences with her oldest daughter on many things, but she didn't want to put Hartanna through a repeat of that miserable business.

An idea struck her as she pondered this. There was someone who was both on fairly good terms with Abihira -- though how that had come about she still had no idea -- and who was unlikely to put up with any necromancy in his palace. Not to mention that Abihira's fiancé was now working for him. Perhaps Prince Ilaran would be kind enough to offer her some job that would keep her out of trouble. If necessary Raivíth could arrange for Abihira to become a diplomat to Tananerl -- a position that was technically not needed and would have no real duties, but would come with a lot of paperwork. No one could practice necromancy when they were too busy signing documents all day long.

Yes, that might just solve all of their problems. First Abihira would go to Gengxin under the strict supervision of a cousin or aunt, then she would go to Tananerl under the equally strict supervision of Prince Ilaran.

Raivíth went to tell Ninuath about this. She found him poring over an old newspaper with a worried frown.

"What is it now?" she asked.

Ninuath held out the paper. It was opened to an article about the assassination of the president of Ephyia. Remembering that fiasco still made Raivíth grimace.

"Haliran says she knows who the assassin was," Ninuath said.

He and Raivíth exchanged dubious looks. No one had been able to track down the assassin. Even the killers they did capture claimed to have nothing to do with it.

"Ten to one she's lying."

Ninuath nodded. "I know, but just in case she isn't I think we should listen to what she has to say."

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For the rest of the morning Zi Yao's condition remained the same. At the start of the afternoon he deteriorated sharply. His temperature climbed close to dangerous levels. Servants were sent to get ice from the ice-houses. Lian and Lady Yuan piled the ice on top of Zi Yao's bed. It didn't help.

"There's still one thing left to try," Lian said after checking Zi Yao's temperature again. "But I must warn you, I've never done it before."

Lady Yuan hadn't outwardly panicked during this whole ordeal. Her hands shook from time to time and she had to wipe away tears, but in every other way she pretended to be perfectly calm. Mirio had to admit that she acted more calmly than either him or Lian. Even now she didn't react with obvious alarm. The waver in her voice was the only sign of how upset she was.

"Is it dangerous?"

Lian managed a smile. He probably meant it to be reassuring. Instead it looked like the painted grimace on an opera mask. "Everything is dangerous. But I think this will be most dangerous to me rather than him."

I don't like the sound of that, Mirio thought. "What do you mean?"

"It's simple. I'll remove the curse from him and draw it into myself, then figure out how to break it."

I definitely don't like the sound of that.

Mirio frowned at Lian. "So your solution is to replace one patient with another. The curse might kill you before you break it. How is that supposed to help?"

Lian smiled again. That smile wasn't as pained as his last one, but there was something eerie about it. It was as if he was laughing at a private joke. "Don't worry. Very few curses can harm me." He turned to Lady Yuan. "I'll need a drop of Zi Yao's blood."

For a minute Lady Yuan was silent. Then she nodded sharply. In a strained voice she said, "Do whatever you have to."

All doctors carried a box of medical supplies with them. Lian, being a very unusual doctor, had equally unusual supplies. When he opened the box Mirio caught a glimpse of small vials full of colourless liquid, a stack of dried leaves, and what looked like the bones of someone's finger. He did not see acupuncture needles or any of the things he was used to doctors carrying around.

Lian took a small knife out of the box. He raised Zi Yao's hand and pressed the knife to the tip of his finger. At once a tiny drop of blood welled up. To Mirio's shock Lian leant forward and sucked the blood away. Never in his life had he heard of any sort of medicine that required drinking blood. The only time that was needed was when taking solemn oaths -- or practising blood magic.

For the first time an idea of just how Lian was able to cure Zi Yao dawned on Mirio. He watched suspiciously as Lian murmured something in a language he'd never heard before. A faint black mist drifted out of Zi Yao's finger and into Lian's chest.

Lian got up. He stumbled as he stepped away from the bed. All of the colour had drained from his face.

"He should wake up in a few minutes," he said. His voice was very faint and speaking seemed to take a lot of effort. "Check his temperature and--"

Mirio grabbed him just as he began to collapse. Lady Yuan began giving the servants orders. Mirio stayed only long enough to hear Zi Yao's temperature really had fallen. Then he half-carried half-dragged Lian out of the room.

He hadn't been in Lian's room since the time Zi Yao dragged him in so many weeks ago when they first met. He pushed Lian to sit down on the bed and checked his pulse. It was steady, and the colour was gradually returning to his face. Hopefully that was a good sign.

"I'm alright now," Lian said hoarsely. "Just need some water."

Mirio poured him a glass from the water-jug beside the bed. He couldn't avoid seeing two portraits placed on the table next to the water-jug. He studied them while Lian drank. They were of two young children, both of them less than a thousand years old. One was a girl playing with a dog. The other was a boy sitting on a swing.

He leant closer to get a better look. Neither of them was familiar, though if he squinted he could see a faint resemblance between Lian and the girl. But the boy's smile... Mirio had seen someone smile like that before. He just couldn't think of who, even though something told him it was incredibly obvious and he was an idiot for not remembering.

"Who are they?" he asked.

"My parents." Lian set the glass down. He managed a wry smile. It was nothing like the boy's, so that wasn't the answer. "See? I told you curses don't harm me."

Why? Mirio wanted to ask. He decided not to. "Will Zi Yao be alright?"

"I hope so. No one would be stupid enough to curse him twice."

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Within hours news spread around the palace. Not only was Zi Yao completely recovered, but so were all the other princes. Mirio looked at Lian when he heard this. Lian looked as surprised as he was.

"Do you think you broke the curse completely?"

Lian shrugged. "I doubt it, but who knows?"