Witch King, page 42
“She will recover, the doctors say,” Bashasa assured him. “But she is forbidden to walk for now, at least without a crutch.”
That was good to hear. Kai absently brushed at a bloodstain on his skirt. He had had a chance to change clothes, but kept the tunic with the crossbow bolt tears, to make a point for anyone who had any doubts. He had a question and there probably wouldn’t be a better time to ask it. “That was the plan? You were just going to talk?”
“Yes.” Bashasa glanced up to grin at him. “But before I realized Karanis had been lied to and was woefully unprepared, I had no idea what to say.”
“He could have accused you of selfishly endangering all the Arike.” Kai tried to recall the exact words. If he was going to be Bashasa’s … whatever he was, he wanted to make sure he understood everything that had happened. “He started to, didn’t he?”
“He did. I would have replied that the Hierarchs had no intention of fulfilling their treaties, that they would slaughter us all eventually so they could settle our land unimpeded, but I have said this before, to not much effect.” Bashasa looked down over the courtyard. On the lowest platform, a group of Arike conscripts were singing and doing some kind of ring dance. Others lit the lamps that hung along the walls, anticipating the oncoming night. Kai spotted Tahren, following Ziede along an upper gallery with Dahin trailing behind. “There seemed no other option then.” Bashasa turned back to his map. “He could also have offered deals to the other Prince-heirs and played us off each other.” A thought struck him, and he turned to Kai. “But you made him too afraid to think. That was very well done, Kai. And then he ordered an attack that made it clear he was afraid for the people to hear me speak.” Bashasa shrugged. “Of course nothing is guaranteed. We could all die tomorrow! But until then, we work.”
Kai nodded. “Did you know the conscripts would turn on him?”
Bashasa waggled one hand, then reached for his pen again. “I knew any Arike conscripts would not have been treated well, and would not be pleased to turn on their own people.” He lifted his brows as he made a note. “It was certainly worth a try.”
Kai watched Bashasa write, as the shadows lengthened over the court. He was well aware he didn’t have a tenth of Bashasa’s self-control. He said finally, “I don’t know if I can do what you want me to do, Bashasa. If I can stay calm and always think ahead, like you do. I’m so angry, I could burn the world.”
Bashasa didn’t seem concerned. “Unfortunately, someone else has already burned it. We need to unburn it.” He looked up, his expression serious. “Will you help me do that, Kai?”
Kai had already made that decision. “Yes.” He stood up, dusted off his skirt, and added, “You need to eat something. I can tell you what we got out of the prisoners, and Hiranan wants to talk to you after that.” He held out his hand.
“Ah,” Bashasa said, smiling up at him as he took it. “Then let us go and do that.”
SIXTEEN
Kai sat in the dusty stone chair on the viewing platform overlooking the Kagala’s courtyard. Tahren and Saadrin had made quick work of the rest of the Lesser Blessed and the mortal Nient-arik in the fort. Saadrin had even managed to keep Vrenren alive to act as a witness when she returned to the Blessed Lands. Tahren and Ziede were having a reunion in the guardroom just below this gallery, and Kai had sealed off his connection to Ziede’s pearl to give them privacy. Tenes and Sanja were sitting in the shade near the raft, swinging their feet and talking in Witchspeak.
There was still a lot to do. Get to a place where they could find transport, so they could return the ascension raft to Saadrin and she could carry away her prisoner. They would have to come back here to dismantle the Witch cells and hide them where Bashat and the Rising World couldn’t find them. Maybe Grandmother would have some ideas about that. Worry about Arnsterath. That was the one he had no idea what to do about.
It was too much at the moment; Kai was just going to sit here for now.
Dahin wandered up the gallery and plopped down on the step at his feet. “Did you talk to Tahren?” Kai asked him. Dahin had sobbed with relief when he saw her. Kai thought it was a good sign.
Dahin’s brow creased in what might be concern. “She said it was like being asleep, and having dreams she couldn’t remember.” He didn’t look up at Kai. “Do you believe her? Is she lying to make me—make us feel better about not finding her sooner.”
It was certainly a Tahren thing to do. But Kai didn’t think so. Tahren hadn’t been maddened when she came out, just confused. Like Kai and Ziede had been, when they had woken in the tomb. All the horror of the situation had been in retrospect. “I believe her. The cells were made a long time ago by borderlanders. They had no reason to be cruel.”
Dahin absorbed that information in silence. Early night birds flew over the fort walls, hunting flying insects. “So, what should we do with this place?” he asked finally. “Burn it down? I assume a flood isn’t likely. The rock looks worn away down there, Tenes could probably knock down a wall or two and start a collapse.”
“I like this place,” Kai said, then was a little surprised to realize he wasn’t being ironic. “Despite everything. It should stay.”
Dahin swiveled around to look up at him. He eyed Kai for a moment and evidently decided he was serious. “Then as long as we don’t have to live here, it should stay.”
Kai met Dahin’s gaze, and said, “Come back to Avagantrum with us.”
“Ah.” Dahin smiled and looked out toward the court again. “Are you trying to impose your will on me?”
“Yes, Dahin, that’s what I’m doing, can’t you tell?” Kai leaned back in the stone seat. He was going to leave it at that; more persuasion would just give Dahin reasons to say no.
Footsteps sounded from the far side of the gallery, then Ziede and Tahren emerged from the door there. They were holding hands, Ziede towing Tahren along, Tahren content to follow where Ziede led.
Kai pushed up from the chair. “Are you ready to go?” he asked them.
Dahin stood. “I’ll tell Aunt Saadrin to put what’s-his-name in the raft,” he said, and was out the opposite door before Kai could say anything.
But looking after him, Tahren said, “I think he’s better.” She looked better herself. With the fort’s well still working, Ziede had filled a cistern for her to have a bath, and had washed her clothes. They were still damp, but in the dry heat they wouldn’t be for long. Ziede looked relaxed for the first time since they had woken in the tomb, all the tension washed out of her shoulders, the strain from her eyes.
Kai started to turn toward the door to the stairs, but Ziede took his hand instead. A cool breeze swept through the gallery as she called a wind-devil. “Where exactly are we going next?” she asked. “Besides away from here?”
“I don’t know yet,” Kai admitted. He had meant to ask Dahin for ideas. But the vivid memory of sitting here with Bashasa was all he could think of now. He said, “To find something to unburn.”
Tahren flicked a knowing look at him, and Ziede said with decision, “I like that.”
And together they stepped into the air.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book might not exist without my friend Felicia O’Sullivan, who must have read what felt like a hundred drafts of the first 30,000 to 80,000 words with no resolution in sight, and who was encouraging and enthusiastic and helped me figure out what I was trying to do.
This book would not be in your hands without editor Lee Harris, publisher Irene Gallo, jacket designer Christine Foltzer, editorial assistant Matt Rusin, the copyeditors and proofreaders, and the rest of the Tordotcom team, especially Mordicai, Desirae, and Renata.
This book would not be nearly as lovely without cover artist Cynthia Sheppard and map artist Rhys Davies.
And I would not still be writing without my agent, Jennifer Jackson, and Michael Curry.
Also by Martha Wells
THE MURDERBOT DIARIES
All Systems Red
Artificial Condition
Rogue Protocol
Exit Strategy
Network Effect
Fugitive Telemetry
BOOKS OF THE RAKSURA
The Cloud Roads
The Serpent Sea
The Siren Depths
The Edge of Worlds
The Harbors of the Sun
Stories of the Raksura: Volume I (short fiction)
Stories of the Raksura: Volume II (short fiction)
THE FALL OF ILE-RIEN TRILOGY
The Wizard Hunters
The Ships of Air
The Gate of Gods
STANDALONE ILE-RIEN BOOKS
The Element of Fire
The Death of the Necromancer
Between Worlds: The Collected Ile-Rien and Cineth Stories
OTHER STANDALONE NOVELS
City of Bones
Wheel of the Infinite
YA NOVELS
Emilie and the Hollow World
Emilie and the Sky World
TIE-IN NOVELS
Stargate Atlantis: Reliquary
Stargate Atlantis: Entanglement
Star Wars: Razor’s Edge
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MARTHA WELLS has written many fantasy novels, including The Wizard Hunters, Wheel of the Infinite, the Books of the Raksura series (beginning with The Cloud Roads and ending with The Harbors of the Sun), and the Nebula Award–nominated The Death of the Necromancer, as well as YA fantasy novels, short stories, and nonfiction. Her New York Times and USA Today bestselling Murderbot Diaries series has won the Hugo, Nebula, Locus, and Alex Awards. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Map
Dramatis Personae
One
Two
The Past: The Beginning
Three
The Past: The Fall
Four
The Past: The Meeting
Five
Six
The Past: The Plan
Seven
Eight
The Past: The Battle
Nine
The Past: The Changing
Ten
Eleven
The Past: The Becoming
Twelve
The Past: The Exodus
Thirteen
Fourteen
The Past: The Journey
Fifteen
The Past: The Beginning
Sixteen
Acknowledgments
Also by Martha Wells
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
WITCH KING
Copyright © 2023 by Martha Wells
All rights reserved.
Cover art by Cynthia Sheppard
Cover design by Christine Foltzer
Map by Rhys Davies
A Tordotcom Book
Published by Tom Doherty Associates/Tor Publishing Group
120 Broadway
New York, NY 10271
www.tor.com
Tor® is a registered trademark of Macmillan Publishing Group, LLC.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-82679-4 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-82680-0 (ebook)
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First Edition: 2023
Martha Wells, Witch King
