Something about magic, I murmured to myself. That must be what she was trying to get out of him. Something about you? I glanced over at Zhakkarn.

Zhakkarn shrugged. If she learned any such secrets, she never used them.

Hmm. What else is Viraine in charge of, here?

Magic use, Sieh said, ticking off fingers. Everything from the routine to, well, us. Information disseminationhes Dekartas liaison to the Itempan Order. He oversees all important ceremonies and rituals

Sieh trailed off. I looked at him and saw surprise on his face. I glanced at Zhakkarn, who looked thoughtful.

Ceremonies and rituals. A flicker of excitement stirred in my belly as I realized what Sieh meant. I sat up straighter. When was the last succession?

Dekartas was about forty years ago, Zhakkarn said.

My mother had been forty-five at her death. She would have been too young to understand what was happening at the ceremony.

She wasnt at the ceremony, Sieh said. Dekarta ordered me to play with her that day, to keep her busy.

That was surprising. Why would Dekarta have kept my mother, his heir, away from the ceremony that she would one day have to undertake herself? A bright child could have been made to understand its purpose. Was it that they meant to kill a servant in the course of the ceremony? But this was Sky; servants died all the time. I couldnt imagine any Arameri, much less my grandfather, denying that harsh reality even to a child.

Did anything unusual happen at that ceremony? I asked. Did you make a play for the Stone that time?

No, we werent ready. It was a routine succession, like the hundred others that have occurred since our imprisonment. Sieh sighed. Or so Im told, since I wasnt there. None of us were, except Nahadoth. They always make him attend.

I frowned. Why just him?

Itempas attends the ceremony, said Zhakkarn. While I gaped at her, trying to shape my mind around the idea of the Skyfather here, right here, coming here, Zhakkarn went on. He makes his greetings personally to the new Arameri ruler. Then he offers Nahadoth freedom, though only if he serves Itempas. Thus far, Naha has refused, but Itempas knows it is in his nature to change his mind. He will keep asking.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the lingering sense of reverence that a lifetime of training had inculcated in me. The Skyfather, at the succession ceremony. At every succession ceremony. He would be there to see me die. He would put his blessing on it.

Monstrous. All my life, I had worshipped him.

To distract myself from my own whirling thoughts, I pinched the bridge of my nose with my fingers. So who was the sacrifice last time? Some other hapless relative dragged into the family nightmare?

No, no, said Sieh. He got up, stretched again, then bent double and began to stand on his hands, wobbling alarmingly. He spoke in between puffing breaths. An Arameri clan head must be willing to kill every person in this palace if Itempas should require it. To prove themselves, usually the prospective head must sacrifice someone close.

I considered this. So I was chosen because neither Relad nor Scimina is close to anyone?

Sieh wobbled too much, tumbled to the ground, then rolled upright at once, examining his nails as if the fall hadnt happened. Well, I suppose. No ones really sure why Dekarta chose you. But for Dekarta himself, the sacrifice was Ygreth.

The name teased my memory with familiarity, though I could not immediately place it with a face. Ygreth?

Sieh looked at me in surprise. His wife. Your maternal grandmother. Kinneth didnt tell you?

22

Such Rage

ARE YOU STILL ANGRY WITH ME?

No.

That was quick.

Anger is pointless.

I disagree. I think anger can be very powerful under the right circumstances. Let me tell you a story to illustrate. Once upon a time there was a little girl whose father murdered her mother.

How awful.

Yes, you understand that sort of betrayal. The little girl was very young at the time, so the truth was hidden from her. Perhaps she was told her mother abandoned the family. Perhaps her mother vanished; in their world, such things happened. But the little girl was very clever, and she had loved her mother dearly. She pretended to believe the lies, but in reality, she bided her time.

When she was older, wiser, she began to ask questionsbut not of her father, or anyone else who claimed to care for her. These could not be trusted. She asked her slaves, who hated her already. She asked an innocent young scrivener who was smitten with her, brilliant and easy to manipulate. She asked her enemies, the heretics, whom her family had persecuted for generations. None of them had any reason to lie, and between them all she pieced together the truth. Then she set all her mind and heart and formidable will on vengeance because that is what a daughter does when her mother has been murdered.