The sisters trotted out Zahra just in time to bid the emperor farewell, presumably to prove she was alive, if not exactly well. Perhaps the Arbiter's story about her poor health wasn't a story at all; Zahra's skin had a faintly green cast to it and she was unsteady on her feet.
Standing together underneath an open archway, Zahra and the boy emperor hardly looked like siblings. Zahra seemed to have aged since Sam last saw her, the fine lines around her mouth deepened into wrinkles, though she couldn't have been much more than 40. She was more likely to be mistaken as the emperor's mother, except she'd lost her air of royalty. At long last, the convent had succeeded in breaking her spirit, what was left of her princess-ly arrogance drained away.
Sam watched the awkward exchange between brother and sister from her palanquin, a loan from the emperor, who'd said it was unseemly for his future bride to travel in anything less. Covered by a richly embroidered canvas and outfitted with velvet seating, the closed interior was large enough to seat two. Growing up in Haywood, Sam was not unused to luxury, but to be carted around on human shoulders was a novel experience. The four brawny men appointed as her palanquin-bearers didn't outwardly struggle with the weight, and another four men were on standby to replace them when they tired. Still, the very concept of a human-powered vehicle made Sam uncomfortable. These were men, not mules, and she was more than capable of walking on her own two feet. But for appearance's sake, she conceded to the emperor's wishes. For now. If he thought he could treat her like another one of his harem girls, he was sorely mistaken.
Though everything Sam knew of the emperor told her he was supercilious and immature, she felt a twinge of pity for him. His body strained toward his sister, his hands clenched into fists by his side. No matter what her crimes against him, Zahra was still blood. Yet he couldn't show her any affection or spare her a few warm words without coming off as weak. Not in front of half his court and the two stern-faced sun sisters that stood practically on top of her. So brother and sister simply looked at each other in somber silence.
Feeling intrusive, Sam closed the window shutters and returned her attention to her fellow passenger. Sitting to her opposite was Kameko, a seething cauldron of resentment. Her cousin hadn't spoken a word since she entered the palanquin, but her body language made it perfectly clear she did not want to be here. Sam didn't want Kameko here either. As soon as she left this place, she wanted nothing more to do with the convent or the sun sisters. They could all go hang, Nasrin included.
Impatient, Sam opened the shutters again, watching for any sign the emperor was ready to leave. The longer they dawdled, the more anxious she became that the Arbiter would find some way to stop her from leaving. Yet she couldn't begrudge the emperor for wanting to see to the welfare of his sister. Poor Zahra. How much longer did she have before the convent irreparably broke her?
Finally, the emperor dropped his gaze from Zahra's, muttered something that must have been farewell, and returned to his imperial guards, who waited a respectful distance away. As they escorted him to the front of the long train of palanquins, borrowed horses and servants on foot, Emperor Kazan did not glance back behind him once. Moments later, a gong rang out, and then they were off.
While it might have conveyed status and wealth, a palanquin was a painfully slow mode of transport. A journey that would have been half an hour on horseback took three. And with Kameko sullenly glowering at her the entire way, it felt more like five.
"This wasn't my idea, you know," Sam said irritably after what must have been their fourteenth stop. "If you want to return to the sisters, by all means, go."
Kameko's eyes flashed. "I don't want to go back. I want to join my mother. Instead I'm stuck chaperoning you."
"If you weren't stuck as my 'chaperone,' you would be back in the temple, no closer to Nasrin than you are now," Sam pointed out. "If you're going to blame anyone, blame your precious Arbiter."
Kameko's jaw was set in a way that indicated she had no intention of listening to reason. "Watch your mouth, infidel."
Sam threw up her hands in disgust. "Fine," she snapped. "Go ahead and sulk. I don't care what you do so long as you stay out of my way."
"I can't," Kameko said glumly. "I'm supposed to be your shadow."
"So you plan to spy on me," Sam said with a raised brow. She had suspected as much, but it was helpful to hear her suspicions confirmed. Regardless, it would complicate matters. Once she was across the Nahari, she had no intention of staying with the emperor's party. If Kameko was going to tail her everywhere she went, Sam would need to find a way to lose her. Easier said than done when Sam was as likely to get herself lost in the process.
"That's right," Kameko said, narrowing her gaze into slits. "I'm watching you."
Sam just rolled her eyes in response. She wasn't threatened, but she was sure as spit annoyed. Leaning back against the velvet seat, she closed her eyes and thought about all the things she could do to drive Kameko crazy. She fell asleep with a smug little smile on her lips.
Sam dozed on and off for the remainder of the journey to Snakeweed Creek. She was jostled fully awake when the palanquin bearers set her and Kameko down by the bank. There was a sudden racket of noise as men barked orders and the palanquins were broken down and taken apart.
It was chaos, but it was organized chaos. The borrowed horses were returned to the village stables, the canoes dragged out from the boathouse and onto the edge of the creekbank, and the courtiers herded into them, leaving their belongings behind for the servants to deal with. The emperor needed three entire canoes to fit all the gifts of tribute he'd received from the villagers.
Sam, and therefore Kameko, shared a boat with Emperor Kazan, one of his imperial guards and two bowman. "Novice," the emperor greeted Kameko coolly.
"Your Highness," her cousin returned, just as icily.
Sam glanced back and forth between the two of them. "You two know each other?"
Kameko gave a short nod. "We've met."
"Unfortunately," grumbled the emperor.
Kameko scowled at him. "His Majesty thinks he pisses out gold," she announced, shocking a smothered laugh out of the imperial guard, who hid it behind a cough.
The emperor's cheeks were bright red. "It's a good thing you're a convent novice," he returned, "because no man in his right mind would ever marry a viper."
"Better a viper than a worm."
"O-o-okay," Sam jumped in before their verbal sparring devolved into a full-blown fight. "How about we all stop talking until we reach the ship?"
The emperor and Kameko both turned their glares on her. "Don't tell me what to do, woman," shot the emperor.
"What he said," Kameko agreed, folding her arms over her chest.
Sam gave up on playing peacemaker after that, listening to the two of them bicker for the remainder of the canoe ride. What was strange was that the emperor tolerated it. He gave as good as he got, but he never commanded Kameko to shut up nor did he threaten her with punishment. Sam began to think he was enjoying himself.
It was dusk by the time the emperor's entire entourage was safely aboard their ships. The purple-gray light cast everything in shadow, making it damned near impossible to see anything properly. Sam had a faint impression of the hulking ship â she could see the feminine outline of the figurehead at its prow and giant sails flapping like wings â but the details were obscured.
She and Kameko were given their own private cabins in the hull of the main vessel, a luxury for which Sam was grateful. Kameko had initially insisted they share a room, but she didn't try too hard to get her way, happily settling for adjacent cabins.
Unlike her room at the convent, Sam's cabin locked from the inside. Besides her, the ship's captain was the only one else with a key. As soon as she shut the door behind her, she took a running flop onto the bed. The mattress was hard and the frame creaked with every rock of the ship, but to Sam, it was the greatest bed in the world. She shucked off her boots and crawled under the covers, waiting for sleep to claim her. But she couldn't fall asleep until the ship left its mooring and the howling wind carried her away from the convent.
***
The screams began just after dawn.
Sam was sleeping the most soundly she had in weeks, and so it was in a half-dreamlike state that she registered the muted shouts and the vibrating ceiling as boots pounded the deck overhead.
It was the distinct sound of a cannon firing that fully roused her. Jumping out of bed, she laced up her boots, unlocked the doorâand ran straight into Kameko. Her clothes were mussed, as Sam's likely were as well, but she had enough peace of mind to strap a sword to her side.
"What's happening?" Sam asked.
Kameko shook her head. "I don't know either. I heard screaming."
"So did I."
Their gazes held for another moment, and then, without exchanging another word, they both sprinted for the companionway, up onto the deck and into the din.
The ship's captain squawked out frantic orders. Sailors scurried up the ratlines to furl the sails while others worked on fixing nets to the ship rails and lashing down all the openings. The rest of the crew ran back and forth between their stations, lugging as much gunstone and shrapnel as they could carry from the ship's magazine. Over the noise, Azi ordered his men to grab crossbows from the open weapons locker and take position for battle.
"Cannons, fire!" Azi shouted. Gunstone erupted into the air, arcing towards some faraway target.
Hand shielding her eyes, Sam followed the projectile's trajectory, squinting into the rising sun. What in the Gods' names were they shooting at? In the distance, she could see a tiny v-shaped speck of black against the orange and pink clouds. Faith in blood, all this over a stupid bird?
"Women go below deck!" a man snarled behind her. Sam whirled around to face an imperial guard, a young man not much older than she was. "Didn't you hear the Lord Marshal?"
"No," she said truthfully, not that she would have obeyed otherwise.
The guard swore under his breath. "It's too late now. All the hatches are sealed." He grabbed her by the elbow. "I'll take you to the Lord Marshal. Let him figure out what to do with you."
As he dragged her across the deck, she twisted her neck to look back at Kameko. "Why aren't you yelling at her?" she asked the guard. "She's a woman too."
He snorted. "She can handle herself. She's a convent novice."
Sam glanced down at her rumpled clothes. The clothes were borrowed from the convent, practically identical to Kameko's attire. "And I'm not?"
He tightened his grip on her arm without halting his pace. "No. You're Lady Samantha of Thule, the emperor's betrothed. And it'll be on my head if you die out here." He slanted a faintly amused glance at her. "For future reference, no novice would ever be caught dead outside the convent without veiling her face."
"Noted."
Azi was no happier to see her above deck than the guard who hauled her in front of him like a badly-behaved child. "Samantha," he said in an admonishing tone that reminded her of her father, "you shouldn't be up here."
"Why?" she asked, exasperated and tired of being coddled. She gestured toward the empty sky. "As far as I can tell, you're shooting at phantoms."
Azi's harsh features darkened into anger. "Foolish girl." He grabbed her arm and steered her toward the bow of the ship. He handed her a brass tube with glass lenses on either end, one small and one large.
She frowned at the strange contraption. "What is it?"
He raised a shaggy eyebrow. "You don't have these in Thule? It's called a spyglass. It allows you to see across far greater distances than the human eye alone."
She put the spyglass to her right eye. "I don't see anything."
Azi plucked the brass tube from her grasp and spun it around so that the small lens faced toward her. "Try it now."
This time, when she peered through the glass, her vision was magnified a hundred-fold. Looking down, she could see every vertical grain of wood in the planks that made up the ship's deck. Her gaze swung to her left, and she could see the trees that dotted the distant shoreline, no longer dots but fully articulated trees.
"Look up and to your right," said Azi.
She did as he bade, pointing the spyglass toward the clouds. And nearly dropped it in her shock. So much for her theory they were firing on birds. "By the Gods," she breathed, "what is that thing?"
"Teivel's children take on many forms," Azi said in a grim voice. When she stared at him blankly, he translated into heavily accented Thulian: "It's a demon, girl." Switching back to Rheic, he added, "and it's heading straight for us."
A/N: A longish chapter, hurrah! Look how productive I am when my husband ditches me for a boys' trip to Iceland! Had a ton of fun writing this chapter, and things are just starting to get hot! Let me know your thoughts in the comments!