They reached Tamera with the rising sun. Kevlin came up on deck when the lookout shouted the sighting. The morning air was chill and a thin fog clung to the calm sea.
He always preferred to stand in the bow to greet a new port, but this time the ladies beat him to it. They stood in a close knot, chatting excitedly about the city.
Indira, her cheeks flushed with the cold and with excitement, grinned at him. "I can't wait to get home. I've missed it."
"I always liked returning home the best," he agreed as he drank in the sight of her. He drew closer, but Lady Miren took his arm.
"Lord Kevlin, have you been to Tamera before?" She wore her long blond hair loose and it cascaded down her back in waves of gold.
"A few times. I passed through the outer reaches of the city occasionally, and as a boy we docked here at least once a year."
"Excellent. You can be our local guide."
"Hardly that, my lady. I've seen only a fraction of it, and never the inner city. We always docked in the common port so I've never even seen the formal port where we're headed."
Lady Miren shrugged. "Then we'll explore it together."
Her enthusiasm was contagious. "I have a better idea. Let's have Indira show us around."
Indira grinned. "I've got a few things I definitely want to show you, Kevlin." She met his gaze boldly, and a shiver of heat raced through him.
Lady Miren linked her other arm with Indira. "I think this is going to be a visit to remember."
Adalia, who gripped the rail next to Indira said softly, "Just as long as we set our feet on dry land."
The others began arriving. Drystan and Jerrik described the basic layout of the city, including the spokes, the four major thoroughfares that radiated out from the palace and down through the city.
When Lady Miren asked about their favorite places in the city to visit, Jerrik laughed. "You won't be wanting to visit any of those places, my lady. Not your crowd."
Gabral proved to have an extensive knowledge of the city and recommended several attractions for the ladies. He told them about the high-class shopping along the Golden Road, and strongly recommended they explore the sunken gardens.
Ceren pointed, exclaiming, "Look, there it is."
Tamera filled a wide plain that rose up to a plateau that towered over the sea. This early in the day, most of the city still lay cloaked in shadow. Atop the plateau, the greatest wonder of the imperial capital shone like a beacon.
Known simply as the Great Dome, the tallest structure in the capital seemed to burn like a miniature sun in the early morning light. It greeted the day, first to taste the morning's rays, and last to relinquish its gleam to the twilight.
Kevlin remembered seeing the glittering dome from his father's ship miles out into the Tamerlane Sea when the rest of the capital had already slipped below the distant horizon. He'd never entered the dome, and the thought of finally getting to do so thrilled him more than he'd admit.
As the Ceara approached the northern port, the sun climbed high enough to illuminate more of the city, but their vantage limited their view. The outer city wall ran along the edge of the sea, up to the steep flanks of the plateau that housed the central palace complex. Few buildings in the poorer districts rose high enough to glimpse behind the wall. The closer to the plateau, the grander the buildings.
They reached the formal port with the morning tide and the sailors brought the large ship smoothly into the sheltered bay. A harbor tug was already waiting for them, and they docked at the central deep-water dock with hardly a pause.
Harafin had orchestrated their arrival with consummate skill. If he ever left the ruling council, he could make a fortune as a merchant.
An escort of threescore imperial cavalry awaited their arrival at the foot of the quay. Harafin summoned the party together and said, "Your baggage will be transported for you. We leave for the palace at once." Even before Drystan could ask, Harafin added, "And yes, the horses too."
Drystan glanced at the hold where the animals were stabled.
Kevlin clapped him on the back, "They'll take good care of the horses."
"I know," Drystan said, glancing at the riderless horses awaiting them. "It's just, I haven't ridden Jasindar for days. I should be the one to release him from the ship."
Kevlin didn't blame Drystan for looking forlorn. Jasindar was a magnificent animal, a purebred Einarri stallion, one of the finest of the Chandana herd. Kevlin wasn't sure he had ever seen the stallion's equal.
If he ever got to ride such a horse, other mounts would never seem adequate. The Einarri connection to their horses ran even deeper than that, however. Kevlin decided to learn more about it. He was now united by blood to the Chandana. He needed to understand them.
"How about we take a ride tomorrow? You can teach me about our tribe."
Jerrik joined the conversation. "Horses don't like me much."
Kevlin hadn't heard the big man join them. For such a giant, he could move quietly.
Drystan grinned. "That's because you're too fat."
Jerrik flexed. "Muscle weighs more than fat, little brother."
"The bigger they are . . ." Drystan started.
"The harder they clobber you," Jerrik finished.
Drystan laughed and his eyes glinted in the early morning light. "We're going to have to test that theory real soon."
"Absolutely," Jerrik grinned.
A wide gangplank was lowered over the side and Harafin descended while the sailors were still securing it. He led the group to the waiting procession. The ladies were assisted into a plush, open carriage, and the rest of the company mounted waiting horses.
They moved out immediately. The normally busy docks were clear and open. They passed rows of large merchant ships waiting to unload or take on new cargo. Sailors lined the decks to watch them pass. Farther out in the port, several broad-beamed military vessels swung gently in the current against their anchor chains.
The group passed through the outer wall via a gate that could easily accommodate four wagons abreast. Inside the city proper, they turned right onto the Golden Road, the northernmost of the four spokes, and kicked the horses into a gentle canter.
Even here where the city elite came to shop and show off their finery, the road remained open. There were no soldiers holding the lane open, but people remained on the sides of the cobbled street watching, although many pretended not to.
Kevlin, who rode just behind the open carriage, watched Indira more than he did the opulent shops lining the street. He didn't have the money to shop in this section of the city, and even if he had, he doubted they would let him in. Lady Miren and Ceren oohed and ahhed over various shops, and at one point, Lady Miren called out to ask if they could stop for a moment.
They did not. So the ladies eagerly planned their return. Indira didn't seem distracted by the wealth on display. She cast several glances back at Kevlin, and spent the trip conversing with Lady Miren's handmaid, Sitara, who looked uncomfortable sitting so close to Indira.
Adalia stared at the rich shops with wide-eyed amazement. The tiny archer from Baldev had thought Diodor a marvelous place of unbelievable riches. It couldn't compare with the opulence of the Golden Road.
They passed an open-fronted shop filled with weapons and armor and an entire rack of intricately carved bows. Adalia nearly fell out of the carriage trying to keep the shop in view for as long as possible.
They slowed through a series of steep switchbacks that zig-zagged up the slope to the gate in the inner-city wall. A dozen spearmen in the emperor's colors stood at attention as they passed. The gate was a fifty-foot tunnel boring through the massive inner wall, with a second gate guarding the far end. They exited the tunnel into brilliant sunlight and their first unobstructed view of the palace compound.
Kevlin gaped. The palace complex of the inner city eclipsed anything he'd ever seen. It didn't inspire awe, but rammed it down one's throat.
Immense. That one word captured the essence of the view. The central palace was still a mile distant, beyond the palaces, towers, and massive buildings that made up the city-within-the-city that was the palace complex of Tamera. The Great Dome towered high above everything, its sphere seeming to glow with inner fire. None of the other buildings in the inner-city complex stood even half as tall.
"By Jagen, this place be huge," Adalia said in the carriage.
Kevlin tore his eyes off the Great Dome to glance at the tiny archer. She looked around with eyes so big they seemed about to burst from her head. The other ladies tried to hide their amazement but were not entirely successful.
Kevlin followed Adalia's gaze to their right to a beautifully manicured park. Thick green lawns with wide-spaced shade trees and hedges shaped into fanciful creatures ran all the way to the edge of the cliff. The Tamerlane Sea extended to the far horizon beyond.
Gabral, who rode in front of the carriage, saluted to the left. They were approaching the Tamarr palace. The long, imposing structure flanked the road for a full quarter mile. However it seemed a bit inconsistent.
It was fashioned out of heavy gray stone, and yet it was surrounded by a polished cedar porch that led to dozens of wide openings that looked like they had been punched through the walls as an afterthought. The openings were flanked by fluted columns, ornate carvings, and marble statues, almost as if to prove they belonged.
Leander urged his horse up to ride beside Kevlin. "Hurts the eyes, doesn't it?"
"Sort of."
He chuckled. "It's in transition."
"What do you mean?"
"This was originally built as a fortress. You can still see it. But over the past twenty years, they've been remodeling, trying to compete with Freyarr for the most ornate, pompous structure."
The only part of the palace that still looked grim and solemn was the central section. Wide granite steps led up to heavy iron doors flanked by two statues of Salawin with the Sword of Justice raised as if to strike down anyone who dared enter.
"The high courts," Leander explained. "No place for mercy in that hall."
The park on their right gave way to a long, unbroken wall of polished, white granite, lined with dozens of statues of the emperors who had ruled over the past two centuries. Kevlin gave them only a brief glance, before gazing again at the central palace.
They rode into the main courtyard that spanned a quarter mile. Kevlin, like most of the company, nearly hurt his neck trying to look in every direction at once. The central palace loomed above them to the right, capped by the towering bulk of the dome. Its famous white marble walls seemed insufficient to hold up the incredible structure.
The road emptied into a circular boulevard that enclosed a beautiful garden with cobbled paths. Flower beds encircled the garden, bursting with a riot of colors. The garden in turn encircled a deep hole in the ground at least a hundred yards across. It plunged out of sight into the earth, but out of its center rose a tall fountain on a stone pedestal. Water cascaded high into the air before falling in a circular waterfall down into the depths of the gaping hole.
Three other main avenues emptied into this central boulevard. Flanking those other roads and encircling the central courtyard opposite the main bulk of the central palace stood the palaces of each of the Six Kingdoms.
They each stood equidistant from the central palace, tiny by comparison, as if kneeling at the feet of their ruler. Other than their size, they shared no common traits. Kevlin couldn't process the details, but each palace had been designed to represent its kingdom and to stand apart from the others.
In front of each of the six palaces, facing the central courtyard, stood statues of each nation's god. They reared thirty feet into the air and shone in the morning light. Kevlin refused to look at the statue of Savas that flanked the golden road opposite the statue of Salawin.
The company trotted around the central boulevard and up to the main stairs that led into the central palace complex directly under the Great Dome. Hundreds of people could ascend those stairs together and not feel crowded.
A crowd of well-dressed men and women waited to greet them. A very elderly man struggled to maintain order but was ignored by the others.
"That's Damodar, the Chief Steward of the palace," Leander said, nodding toward the old man. "The loud-mouthed, self-important officials are the ambassadors."
The ambassadors surged forward to greet Harafin. Behind them, a terribly fat Sentinel who was already sweating despite the chill morning, greeted Harafin with a loud shout.
Harafin raised a hand in greeting. "Ho, Felix."
He barely paused to acknowledge the ambassadors and other nobility arrayed to greet them before plowing through their ranks toward the main entrance. He called out loudly, "Assemble everyone immediately. I will do nothing until we have freed the emperor."
The Chief Steward frowned and glanced toward the stable hands who were taking the horses. Many of the young men were watching Harafin and talking excitedly among themselves.
As Kevlin passed through the immense main entrance with the others, he wondered at it. Clearly there was an ongoing effort to suppress information about the curse. Those efforts rarely worked as planned, and often back-fired.
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His thoughts trailed off as he stepped into the palace. He had been impressed by the Great Dome from the outside. Nothing could have prepared him for the unbroken view all the way up to the peak of the dome so far overhead it seemed impossible the structure could have been crafted by human hands.
The open space dwarfed any other building Kevlin had ever imagined. Ten thousand people could fit in the open hall under the dome. Seven levels of balconies and railed walkways ringed the walls of the dome, but only stretched halfway up the structure. Hundreds of people moved about their various tasks high above the floor.
Five stories above him, an ornately carved carriage with no wheels floated off the end of an open balcony and crossed the immense empty space in a graceful arc. A dozen people sat in the carriage, and several of them waved at the staring spectators below.
Beside Kevlin, Jerrik muttered, "I hate coming here."
"How could you hate this?" Kevlin finally managed to close his mouth that had fallen open in wonder.
Jerrik frowned at nothing in particular and said softly, "Makes me feel . . . small."
Chuckling, Kevlin hurried to follow the others who were crossing the wide marble expanse of the floor. Harafin headed toward a magnificent grand staircase that arced up in twin arms to the second level.
Only when he nearly stepped in what looked like a huge puddle of water did Kevlin really look at the floor.
"Sherah's Teeh," he whispered as he glanced around and tried to take in the full scope of what he saw.
It looked like they were walking through actual waves. He nearly stumbled as his mind expected him to step onto a wave crest instead of landing on solid, flat marble. Beyond the waters, Harafin was striding through a range of tall mountains. Kevlin blinked a few times, but the illusion of depth did not dissipate.
"Don't try to see it here," Drystan said, nodding toward the stairs. "Look from up there."
"Where are we going?" Kevlin asked.
Gabral, who was trying to not look impressed, pointed at the yawning opening of a vast hallway that started on the next level. "That hall leads back to the imperial palace where the ruling council chamber is located."
"I thought we were in the imperial palace."
Gabral snorted. "Not hardly. There's lots of palaces here. The entire inner city is called the Greater Palace Complex. Each kingdom has their own palace outside. Right now we're standing in the Great Dome, which is the centerpiece of the Tamera Palace proper, but the complex is so big it's broken down into smaller sections."
He waved toward a huge opening in the north wall of the Great Dome on the main level, thick with people. "The Northern Kingdoms Admin Palace lies over there. You saw it from outside, the long wing that faces the northern edge of the central boulevard." He nodded toward the south. "Same thing over there, just for the southern kingdoms."
Ceren, who had moved closer to them as they walked said, "I read about all this, but I can hardly believe it."
At the top of the grand stair, Kevlin and the others paused to look back over the wide expanse of marble floor they had just traversed.
The sight took Kevlin's breath away. Stretched across the entire expanse of the dome floor was a detailed map of the empire. All Six Kingdoms were portrayed in spectacular detail. The waves he'd thought he was wading through were part of the Tamerlane Sea, which was the one landmark given less space than it deserved.
More than the breathtaking detail of the mosaic, it was the three-dimensional effect somehow embedded into the artwork that amazed him most. Kevlin stared for several seconds, trying to penetrate the illusion, but from this distance it looked even more realistic than when they had been walking through it.
Indira stepped to the rail beside him. "I could stand here all day looking at this."
Kevlin took her hand, but now that he finally got the chance to speak with her, his words failed him. He wanted nothing more than to look into those big, dark eyes.
Ceren slipped up beside Indira. "Come on, or we'll be left behind."
The rest of the party was already marching down the long hall. When the three of them jogged to catch up, Ceren somehow ended up between Kevlin and Indira. When they rejoined the party, the two ladies rejoined Adalia, leaving Kevlin at the rear of the troupe with his brothers.
They walked through a hall wide enough for thirty people abreast. It reared at least two stories tall and ran straight west for a hundred yards.
Gabral said, "We're about to enter the area reserved for staffers who work for the various imperial departments not directly affiliated with any of the Six Kingdoms. It's known as the Imperial Palace."
"So this is where the emperor lives?" Kevlin asked. He was having trouble absorbing so much information on such a huge scale. That, coupled with getting separated from Indira again was making him cranky.
"Wrong again." Gabral actually smiled. "The Emperor's Palace lies north of the Imperial Palace. The Great Hall is south of here, with other support buildings I've never visited surrounding them. I've lived here for three years. It takes a while to sort it all out."
Kevlin stopped trying to digest all the wonders and just focused on following Harafin. Until today, he'd considered himself widely traveled, but he now felt like a country fool.
The halls were thick with people, many of whom watched the company with guarded interest and occasional glares. Most of the attention was directed at Harafin and the ambassadors, who strode down the center of the hall without slowing. Their heavy escort ensured people got out of the way.
Of course, most of the stares were then transferred to the women who walked in the center of the group. More than one person started bowing to Lady Miren, while others stared after her, frowning.
Kevlin asked Drystan, "Why are they doing that?"
"She looks a lot like the keisara."
Made sense. The keisara was the emperor’s wife, and she definitely would require respect. They ascended several more staircases and then turned down a wide corridor flanked by two Sentinels. The hall stood empty and a sense of foreboding hung in the air.
They were drawing close to the curse. A few minutes later, they stopped in a wide atrium facing a set of ornately carved double doors.
"Are you sure you want to approach from this side?" Felix asked Harafin.
He nodded. "Get everyone down here. There's more room to work."
"Master Harafin, I'm so glad you're here."
Keisara Fideima Tamar Tegnazian swept into the atrium from a side corridor, surrounded by half a dozen Sentinels and two dozen guards. Everyone bowed or curtsied.
Kevlin stared when he rose from his bow. Lady Miren did share a striking resemblance to the keisara, but failed to project the same aura of magnificence. The keisara took Harafin's hand in greeting, then turned to greet her cousin.
Sentinels began to arrive, along with many Stalwarts dressed in the various colors of their orders. Soon the atrium filled to overflowing with more than fifty gifted men and women.
Harafin raised his hands for attention. "Thank you for coming and offering your strength. Assemble yourselves, and we will begin." He turned to face the double doors and declared, "The curse dies now."
The Stalwarts and Sentinels shifted, forming long chains as each person grasped the shoulders of the person in front of them. The chains of each order of Stalwarts remained distinct, as did several different groupings of Sentinels. The lines snaked around each other before ending with the senior Sentinels and Stalwarts who stood arrayed behind Harafin.
Harafin turned to the keisara. "Your Majesty, I recommend you withdraw."
Keisara Fideima shook her head, standing tall and looking regal. "I will not leave, Master Harafin. I will witness the salvation of my husband. This curse has caused us so much pain and I will not flee." When he tried to protest, she added, "If I'm not safe here among all of you, there is no place in the palace I would call safe."
Harafin inclined his head in a small bow. "Very well. No matter what you see, you must not enter the council chamber until I authorize it."
He swept his gaze over the ambassadors, who stood gathered in a group to one side. "That goes for all of you."
They all eagerly agreed. Harafin pointed to two Sentinels who stood apart from the long chains of men and women. "Shield them."
A shimmering silvery shield formed around the keisara and the small group of ladies with her. Another formed over the ambassadors.
The keisara clasped hands with Lady Miren, who leaned close and whispered words of comfort. Ceren stood on the queen's other side and Indira hovered nearby. Adalia clenched her hands as if fighting the urge to string her bow.
Kevlin felt it too. Tension and anticipation hung thick in the air, mingled with fear. His hands itched to hold a weapon even though he knew it would do no good against the mystic forces they faced here.
As a hushed anticipation settled over the group, Drystan whispered to Kevlin, "Maybe we should've been standing closer to the ladies."
Jerrik chuckled, a deep rumbling that drew many disapproving glares. "Coward."
Harafin spoke softly. "Begin."
Scores of hands began to glow as Sentinels and Stalwarts alike bowed their heads in concentration. The air became charged like during a thunderstorm, and a breeze picked up.
Leander, Ah'Shan, and ten other men and women who stood at the heads of the various chains of living power, raised their hands in unison. They did not touch Harafin, but lifted outstretched hands in his direction. Ropes of pure white light leapt from each of them, meeting at a single point in the center of Harafin's back.
Harafin, who faced the closed double doors, squared his shoulders but showed no other outward sign of the influx of power. So much raw power flowed through the room that Kevlin could feel it, like whispers across his skin.
Only then did he realize the danger.
The Trembling Madness roared to life and shattered his mental restraints. Kevlin swayed and would have fallen if Jerrik had not caught him.
"Kevlin, stand your ground," Jerrik growled.
Kevlin barely heard the words. He clasped his head with both hands and squeezed, as if the pressure could help him maintain his sanity. He swayed as he fought to resist the overpowering urge to leap upon the nearest Sentinel and take the man's magic.
They wouldn't miss a little. Just a little, that's all he needed. They were so cruel to deny him. He deserved it just as much as Harafin did. No, he deserved it more. Harafin could get his own.
Kevlin took a step forward, toward Harafin. His face contorted into a mask of hatred and his fingers curled into claws. He would take the magic, all the magic. He deserved it.
Drystan caught his shoulder. "Kevlin, stop. Harafin's about to open the doors."
"Leave off," Kevlin growled. "I need it."
"Uh oh," Jerrik groaned. "Bad timing, Kevlin."
Kevlin took another step, unable to stop himself. Part of him still resisted, but that part was fighting a losing battle inside the broken remnants of his mental fortress.
Another voice was clamoring so loud, those whispered doubts were hard to focus on. Why not take it? He deserved it. He needed it.
His hands started to shake and a crazed laugh bubbled in his throat. Ceren turned at the sound and her eyes widened at the sight of him. Indira also turned, and she looked terrified. Protected in their shield, they couldn't help or flee.
Jerrik and Drystan grabbed Kevlin's arms and restrained him. He struggled against them and opened his mouth to scream at them to let him go.
A gauntleted fist smashed him in the face and snapped his head back so hard he pulled a muscle in his neck.
Kevlin's legs buckled, and he sagged between his brothers. His vision blurred, and the pain smashed through the raging madness like a splash of icy water. He drove the invading magic out of his mind and reinforced his broken shields. When the unruly power crashed against his defenses again, this time he held.
Kevlin coughed, and a cloth was shoved over his mouth to silence him. He could barely breathe, and struggled to free himself.
Gabral's voice hissed into his ear. "Stand down, mercenary, or I'll kill you right now."
Kevlin didn't doubt Gabral's sincerity. The short colonel had disliked him from the start and seemed eager to find an excuse to kill him. He would have several times if Harafin hadn't intervened.
Kevlin had thought they were over that. Apparently not. He was disappointed his brothers didn't intervene.
Jerrik and Drystan held him up until he could stand on his own. Gabral stood close in front of him, glowering and watching him closely, as if looking for an excuse to hit him again.
Kevlin whispered, "I'm all right. Let me go."
His brothers slowly relaxed their grip and Drystan said, "That was quick thinking, Colonel."
Gabral smiled. "Happy to help." Then he turned his back on them. The Mace, which he now held in his hand, began to burn with blue fire that rolled up and over him, encasing him in its protective power.
Kevlin hated to admit Gabral had done the right thing. He would have lost control otherwise. The Trembling Magic had subsided, but he maintained his shielding in case it rose to challenge his sanity again.
The entire incident had taken only a few seconds, and no one outside of the small group seemed to have noticed. Then again, all the Sentinels and Stalwarts packed in around them were concentrating so hard, they wouldn't notice if the building started to collapse.
The wide double doors burst open so hard that Kevlin was surprised they didn't spring from their hinges. Harafin stood alone in the opening, hands spread wide, with blue lightning arcing between them. His body glowed with pure white light and he radiated an aura of absolute power.
Kevlin reinforced his already strong defenses against the Trembling Madness. It tested his mental barrier, but subsided when he maintained control.
Beyond the double doors lay the ruling council chamber. At the far end stood the long, half-moon curve of the gigantic council table. The room glowed with angry red light that pulsed slowly.
The glow emanated from the head of the room where the figure of a man showed dimly through a pillar of crimson fire. Another column of fire burned several feet to the left, although the bulk of the table concealed whatever lay within it.
As soon as the double doors opened, the condensed flames surged high, burning all the way up to the ceiling. Tendrils of flame whipped across the room toward Harafin.
The old Sentinel threw his hands out and shouted a word Kevlin could not understand, but that rippled through him like a cyclone of sound.
A curtain of blue-white light exploded into the room, burning so bright it blinded Kevlin. The crack of thunder pealed so loud Kevlin cried out, clutching at his ears. A second shockwave of sound struck with stunning force and tumbled him to the floor. His brothers landed on top of him, and Jerrik's elbow drove into Kevlin's ribs, driven by his immense weight.
Kevlin clenched his eyes shut and kept his hands clapped over his ears, but it was a futile effort. It reminded him of the night he first met Antigonus, a few short weeks ago. It felt like years. Antigonus had summoned a bolt of lightning against Rhea, and Kevlin had again stood far too close.
If only Antigonus had managed to kill Rhea with that bolt, things might have turned out so different.
Hands pulled Kevlin to his feet and he forced his eyes open. People stood nearby, but he only saw them as shadowy figures surrounded by gray. He blinked several times, and his vision slowly returned.
Silence enveloped him, and his head felt thick, like it was packed with wool. It took a moment to recognize Jerrik standing beside him. The huge Donarri warrior tried speaking, but Kevlin couldn't make out the words. It sounded like Jerrik was talking underwater.
Jerrik frowned and twisted Kevlin around. Drystan stood behind him with Indira. She looked concerned and had one hand half-extended toward Kevlin.
He wanted to step forward and take that hand, wanted to feel the warmth of her touch. But as soon as he saw her, the wild craving for magic stirred. The longing to touch her was overshadowed by a new urge to grab her and force her to give him magic.
Kevlin reached for her, but she must have noted the change in his face because she retreated. Drystan intercepted Kevlin and cocked back an arm to show he'd share some of Gabral's tonic against insanity if Kevlin didn't stand down.
Kevlin closed his eyes and fought to control himself. He hated losing control, but the thought of hurting Indira drove him to redouble the height and strength of his mental walls. It took a few seconds, but he surrounded his thoughts with impenetrable wards, and the madness subsided.
He could see better now. Sounds started to register, but dimly. Indira was already gone. His brothers stood nearby, casually flanking him. A knot of Sentinels clustered around the double doors to the council chamber, so Kevlin couldn't see inside the room.
Felix pushed out through the crowd and started speaking and gesturing wildly. The gathered Sentinels reluctantly disbanded.
The room was scarcely recognizable. The polished marble floor had buckled in four places, its entire expanse cracked and charred. The walls were blackened and pockmarked with craters as if they'd been attacked with siege weapons. The huge stained-glass window in the ceiling was simply gone, and the immense, crescent-shaped table lay in smoldering piles of ash.
There was no sign of the cursed crimson fire.
Harafin stood beside the emperor's throne-like chair while half a dozen Stalwarts and green-robed Healers lifted the emperor onto a stretcher and began hustling him from the room. The keisara, who was openly crying, hugged Harafin and kissed him on the cheek before rushing after the emperor's stretcher.
Lady Miren embraced Harafin, then followed. Harafin waved to Ceren, who stood nearby. Kevlin couldn't hear what he said, but she gave a brief curtsy and ran after Lady Miren.
Sentinels who walked past Kevlin all shared a look of profound awe that fit well his lingering deafness.
Drystan handed Kevlin a small piece of parchment. It read, 'Don't let anyone know you're still not well. They might try to heal you.'
Kevlin sighed. He needed to speak with Harafin. The Trembling Madness seemed to be far worse here in the palace. At the same time, he felt deeply frustrated that the others could be healed while he stumbled around like a cripple.
Colonel Gabral walked past and didn't bother hiding his smile. He said something, but Kevlin heard only a muted whisper.
Within moments, the hall was crowded with workers, soldiers, and bureaucrats. It was as if they had been hidden behind an invisible dam that had broken now that the curse was gone. Kevlin stood on the fringes of the flood and watched people hurry by, while the noise of their passing sounded like distant echoes. He felt alone and completely useless.
Jerrik and Drystan appeared a few minutes later and signaled him to follow. They led him down a dozen different halls and descended more flights of stairs than Kevlin remembered climbing on the way in.
After walking at least two miles through the palace compound, Kevlin felt hopelessly lost. He knew they had left the Imperial Palace behind because he saw fewer people dressed in the green and gold of the emperor's staff and now saw mostly soldiers in the uniform of the imperial guard.
Eventually they stopped at a plain white wooden door that looked exactly like hundreds of other doors lining the last three halls they had followed. The simple, utilitarian hall made it clear they were far from important sections of the palace.
Drystan consulted a circular wooden chip about the size of a silver crown and nodded. He handed Kevlin the chip. The symbol 3-BP-18-44 was etched into the top of it.
"What's this?" Kevlin's voice still sounded to him like he was speaking with cotton stuffing his cheeks.
Jerrik leaned close and shouted into his ear. "It means, sub-level three, section bread pudding, hall eighteen, room forty-four." His voice sounded like a whisper.
Kevlin frowned. "Bread pudding?"
Drystan shouted in his other ear, "He means Bracken Parthalan." At Kevlin's blank stare, Drystan shrugged. "I'll explain when you can hear."
Jerrik shouted, "Bread Pudding is easier to remember."
"You're confusing him," Drystan said, then pushed open the door to reveal a small but comfortable room with a sturdy bed, small table with washbasin, and wardrobe. Kevlin's pack lay on the bed.
Jerrik shouted, "Your quarters. Welcome home." Then he passed Kevlin a bit of parchment with two other sets of codes on it. "Our rooms."
Drystan shouted, "We have to report to our ambassadors. We'll track you down later."
The two left in different directions. Kevlin chose the course of wisdom, lay down on his bed, and fell asleep.