Bodies lay about the lower courtyard. A couple dozen at least. Maybe more. It was hard to tell in the dark and all the torches on this level had been extinguished.

Torches still flickered from the upper courtyard, and there were a few guards moving about. The rebellion had obviously failed, but no one had come to remove the bodies yet. Probably waiting till morning. Or no one had thought to order it yet.

“Stay here,” Zandrue told Corvinian. “I’ll be right back.”

She left Corvinian sitting in the guards’ cubby by the entrance and ventured into the courtyard. She moved from body to body, primarily to find out if any were her friends, but she took a moment at each to check if any were alive as well.

There were a mix of bodies. Several were palace guards, so the rebels hadn’t been totally slaughtered. But the majority were not guards, nor did they look much like warriors at all. Many had been trampled. Many of them—particularly those near the entrance—had also been looted.

She recognised a couple of them: people she’d seen at Resistance meetings. Nin-Chamer, Fra-Mecatl’s son, was one of them. A shame. She’d liked the guy.

She glanced up at the upper courtyard on numerous occasions. It was unlikely they could see her in the dark, starless night, but she didn’t want to take any chances.

Beside the stairs leading to the middle courtyard lay a body in yellow robes. Zandrue closed her eyes for a moment and sighed, then bent down to examine it.

The individual groaned as Zandrue turned her over. She was still alive.

Blood and dirt covered the right side of Tadstaime’s face and parts of her jaw bone were visible. Her right arm and shoulder were shattered as well. She must have fallen from above. Her left eye opened and the right eyelid twitched, but remained closed.

“Lacquaime?” she managed to say.

“Yes, it’s me, Tadstaime.”

“I am so glad you came.”

“Don’t try to speak. I’m going to get you some help.”

“There is no point. I will not live much longer. You should not have moved me.”

“Shit, I’m sorry. I thought you were dead. I didn’t—”

“Do not apologise. Death was inevitable. This way shortens the suffering. And I am glad to see you before I go. Promise me something.”

“Anything,” Zandrue said, wiping away her tears.

“Carry on my legacy. It will not be easy. Fra-Ichtaca will take total control now, and she will attempt to have you removed or killed. Save as much of what I accomplished as you can, and rebuild.” She coughed, bringing up blood and stirring up the festering wound on the side of her face.

“I promise,” Zandrue lied.

“You must also make sure you are present at the ceremony on New Year’s day. Prince Castroff’s men are under the Grand Temple. Go to them. Tell them who you are and that I want you present at the ceremony. Promise this to me.”

“I promise.”

Tadstaime reached out with her good arm and tried to grasp Zandrue’s. Zandrue took her hand.

“This last month since you arrived has been amongst the happiest of my life,” Tadstaime said, her voice getting hoarser and quieter with each word. “I know you will not let me down. Now please voice the last rites for me.” She coughed again.

Zandrue placed her hands on Tadstaime’s blood-soaked cheeks—what was left of them. “Go into the embrace of Nyx afraid and whimpering for mercy. But know that, if you are found worthy, you shall receive glory in the world that is to come. All hail the Lord of Darkness. All hail Nyx.”

“All hail...” Tadstaime coughed again. “Nyx. We will...be...free.” Her body went still.

“We will be free.” Zandrue closed Tadstaime’s eye and laid her out flat on the ground.

She hadn’t said words in praise of the Lord of Darkness for a very long time. They made her shudder now. But she also felt relieved that Tadstaime had never learned she betrayed her—that she had never been on the arcraime’s side in the first place.

She wiped the tears from her face and ascended the stairs to the middle courtyard. There were fewer bodies here, though most of them were Resistance members she recognised. There were still a few palace guards as well. Near the spot where Tadstaime must have fallen from, she saw a large body, bigger than everyone else here.

Oh gods, no.

She sighed with relief to find out it wasn’t Rudiger. It was Prince Garet. What the hell was he doing here?

He must have come with Felitïa. If she had Quilla with her, he wouldn’t have left her behind. Did Quilla know yet?

Satisfied none of the bodies were Rudiger’s or Felitïa’s, Zandrue headed back to Corvinian.

“What took you so long?” the boy asked.

“Sorry, there were a lot of bodies to check. Look, Rudiger was supposedly working in the stables at the Palace. I need to find out if he’s there. It’ll be easier for me to get in there by myself, so I want you to go back to the forest and wait there for me, okay?’

“But I want to come,” Corvinian said. “I want to see Rudiger too.”

Zandrue shook her head. “Don’t worry. If I find him, we’ll both come back to you, okay? You’ll get to see him then. But it really will be easier for me by myself. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Corvinian groaned.

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“Good, run along and stay hidden till I get back.”

Corvinian nodded and headed off. He wasn’t moving very fast—probably sulking because he couldn’t come with her—but he headed in the right direction.

The next trick was to find the stables without getting caught. She had no idea where they were, but they’d want an open area for the horses. Since there wasn’t such an area at the front, the back seemed the best place to start. There also had to be another way in and out of the Palace grounds than just these rising courtyards, a place more amenable for horses and wagons. The south side of the Palace was bordered by forest and the west by the Jaguar, so it had to be along the north side between the Palace and the Grand Temple.

She hurried out of the courtyard and around to the north side. There were several common homes along this stretch of the City, but they cleared away before the Grand Temple. There was a path between the Temple and the Palace and at the far end of the Temple, there was a portion of the Palace wall joining it, with a closed gate in the middle. She could just make out the outlines of warriors on top of the wall and a couple in front of the gate.

That was not going to be an easy way to get in. However, maybe there was a way that wasn’t so heavily guarded.

She returned to the front of the Grand Temple. There was an unfamiliar scent in the air and a shadowy shape moved past the base of the stairs and paused. Four-legged, it stood about half her height and was easily as long as Rudiger was tall. Despite the near-pitch black night, its eyes glinted with what little light there was. And it was looking right at her.

Shit. She didn’t need this right now.

“Nice kitty,” she muttered. “Trust me, I don’t taste very good.” One day, she wanted to learn just what it was about her scent—and that of other Volgs—that spooked animals so much.

It crouched low, ready to pounce. A growl rumbled from its throat.

Zandrue placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. There was no way she could outrun the jaguar, and little chance she could fight it either. Of all the ways she’d imagined going out, this had never been one of them.

“Bahlam!”

The jaguar twitched, turning its head in the direction of the voice. As it moved, something long and dangling from its neck moved along with it, dragging on the ground. A lead?

“Down!”

The jaguar growled, but lay down on the ground. Two Queen’s Guards emerged from the darkness. One had her spear ready. The other cautiously approached the jaguar and picked up the lead. Once she had it securely wrapped around her wrist, she looked in Zandrue’s direction.

“Sorry. He got away.”

“Will that lead actually do any good?” Zandrue asked, removing her hand from her sword. She hoped they couldn’t tell she had a sword in the dark and that her bow tied to her back looked like nothing more than a staff.

“No,” the Queen’s Guard said. “If he decides to pounce, I can’t stop him. If you’re lucky, my friend here will kill him before he kills you, but they’re not good odds. Return to your home.”

“Right away,” Zandrue said. “Thank you.” She walked away, towards the homes of the City, but kept her pace slow, paying attention to what she could hear from the two Queen’s Guards.

“How the hell did he get here?” the second one asked.

“How should I know? Let’s get him back to the Palace and find Captain Ses-Zeltzin. After...”

Their voices faded out as Zandrue got farther away.

She wandered between the nearest buildings for several minutes while she gave the guards enough time to leave. Then she returned to the Temple. After confirming the coast was clear, she approached the steps and began to ascend.

Once she was up a couple tiers, she hopped off the steps onto the tier itself. She had to squeeze around statues and plants, sometimes even climbing up or down a level to get past tight spots. It took awhile, but eventually she made it to the back and past the Palace wall. Then she climbed down the pyramid tiers onto the Palace grounds. Thankful for the cloudy night to hide her, she darted across the open field towards the back of the Palace.

Finding the stables proved easy, and she got herself inside unseen.

“Hello?”

There was no Rudiger.

Of course, it was the middle of the night. He could be sleeping somewhere. Though if he’d had any involvement with the attack—and there was no reason why he wouldn’t have—he might not have been allowed back to wherever he’d been sleeping. So where would he be?

A horse snorted.

She looked over at the big roan snout that was sticking out of one of the stalls. “Hello, Borisin! Happy to see me?”

The horse snorted again.

“Rudiger around?”

Borisin just stared at her.

Zandrue sighed. “Look, I know you don’t like me very much, but we both like Rudiger, and I suspect we would both like to get back to him. So here’s what I propose. I’m going to get you out of these stables. I know how much you hate stables. And then, if you have any idea where Rudiger is, you’re going to take me to him. Okay?”

Borisin continued to stare.

She waited a moment, but he continued to do nothing else, so she set about tacking and saddling him. He didn’t protest, so that was a good sign, wasn’t it? Once he was ready, she opened his stall and went to the stable doors. She paused.

Even in the dark, the guards would spot Borisin. He was big enough. She needed a distraction.

“Wait, don’t go out right away.”

She went to the other stalls and opened them one after the other. There weren’t a lot of horses, but there were a few. She goaded them towards the stable doors. Borisin started to help her, nudging the horses in the right direction with his head.

“Think you can startle them into running out?”

Borisin snorted, which she decided to take as a yes.

Zandrue opened the stable doors and darted out of the way. Borisin squealed and kicked at the horse nearest him. He didn’t hit the horse, but it was enough to make the horse dart forward into the next horse. Then they were all squealing and running from the stables—in different directions, too.

With a smile, Zandrue mounted Borisin. They waited, listening to the sounds of yells from the guards, gave it enough time for the guards to be distracted enough rounding up the horses and spread out enough that they couldn’t easily go after Borisin as a group.

“Okay, big guy, take me to Rudiger.”

Borisin bounded out of the stables at a gallop.

“The Queen’s horse!” someone cried. “Someone’s stealing the Queen’s horse!”

Borisin rounded the north corner of the Palace and galloped down the path, knocking over a pair of guards. He rounded the east corner into the upper courtyard, barrelling past more startled guards.

He wasn’t going to...? No way.

He leapt down the stairs and Zandrue clutched onto his main as she bounced about. Going down these stairs could not be good for him—or easy. They were so narrow. He stumbled a couple times and Zandrue held on for dear life. Yet somehow he made it to the middle courtyard. He darted across it, leaping over bodies, and then down the next flight of stairs. Once again, it was a bumpy ride, but they made it to the bottom. Then he galloped out of the Palace and turned to the north.

Borisin slowed to a canter as he navigated around the houses, kitchens, and other structures. The whole while, though, he kept looking in the direction of the Grand Temple, and eventually he brought her round to the steps there.

“Here?” she said. Borisin snorted. “Gods fucking damn it, I was just here. I should have gone inside.” She dismounted. “Okay, they’re going to be coming after you, so get yourself out of sight. I’ll find Rudiger. Oh! Corvinian’s hiding in the woods south of the Palace. Go find him and wait with him. Rudiger and I will get there as soon as we can.” She patted the horse’s rump and he galloped off.

Zandrue hurried up the stairs as fast as she could. There were probably guards coming, and she’d be an obvious target.

There were several dead bodies in front of the Temple’s entrance. Most were Queen’s Guards—Rudiger’s work?—but the body on the sacrificial stone took her by surprise. She had never seen Nin-Xoco, but the body matched descriptions she’d heard.

So the Queen was dead.

Zandrue approached the Temple doors.