Cinda Chima - The Crimson Crown

Han nodded. “He’s known all along, I guess. He’s helped me out at times. But he never told me the truth, not until the Demonai decided to cash in, about a year ago.”

“Why wouldn’t he tell you?” Crow looked mystified.

“I don’t know. Likely, he didn’t think it would help me any, to be tied to someone like you. These days, they call you the Demon King. Supposedly, you kidnapped Hanalea and carried her off to your dungeon, then tortured her because she refused you.”

“What?” Crow thrust his head forward. “That’s a lie. Who said that?”

“Everyone. You nearly destroyed the world. Hanalea saved the day by killing you.”

“If I could destroy the world, don’t you think I could fight off the queen of the Fells?” Crow snorted. “It’s true what they say, then—history is written by the victors.”

In spite of everything—or maybe because of everything—Han believed him. He couldn’t help liking his arrogant, sarcastic, brilliant peacock of an ancestor. Enough lies had been told about Han in his lifetime—why not the man they called the Demon King? It was in plenty of people’s interests to demonize him.

“They call her Hanalea the Warrior,” Han said. “After she destroyed you, she negotiated a peace that’s lasted for a thousand years. She’s like a saint.”

“Hanalea a saint and me a demon?” Crow rolled his eyes. “If Lucas has been defending me for a thousand years, it hasn’t been very effective.”

Han laughed. “He’s no longer gifted,” he said. “Lucas, I mean. He said that was the price he’d paid for living forever.”

Crow rubbed his chin. “Likely all of his flash is consumed with keeping him alive. That’s a heavy price to pay, for one born gifted. It’s not a bargain I would make.”

“It paid off for him, though. As a wizard, he couldn’t have married Hanalea after the Breaking,” Han said. “We live under a set of new rules and restrictions, called the Nǽming.” Well, not so new. But new to Crow, once called Alger Waterlow. Enacted because of him.

Betrayed by the woman he loved, tortured by his enemies, imprisoned in an amulet for a thousand years, demonized by history. Waterlow had never seen his children, never even known he had any. No wonder he was bitter.

Han cast about for something to say. “Lucas says Hanalea loved you. She never stopped loving you. He claims she wasn’t the one who betrayed you.”

“Oh, it was her, it had to be,” Crow murmured. “I assume she had her reasons.”

“Well. Maybe she knew she was with child,” Han said, wondering why he needed to stick up for Hanalea. It wasn’t as if he could undo a thousand-year-old crime. “If things were hopeless, maybe she did it in order to save them.”

“That’s the thing. They weren’t that hopeless,” Crow said. “We were under siege, but we could have held out indefinitely, had Hana not shown them how to get in. …” His voice trailed off, and he brushed a hand across his face as if to wipe the memory away. “Never mind. Nobody cares these days.”

“You’re wrong,” Han said. “What happened then drives what’s happening now. The Bayars still hope to marry into the Gray Wolf line.” He paused. “Remember that girlie I nearly killed myself saving? She’s Raisa ana ’Marianna, now queen of the Fells. They’re hoping to marry her off to Micah.”

Crow’s eyes narrowed. “Well, we have to stop them.”

“You said you had something the Bayars wanted. Something they are desperate to get. Something you would use to ruin them.” Han raised his eyebrows encouragingly.

“Did I say that?” Crow shifted his gaze away. “Let’s talk about this Wizard Council meeting you mentioned. The one you’re unlikely to survive.”

He still doesn’t trust me, Han thought. Who can blame him?

“If I may ask, how did someone like you ever end up on the council?” Crow asked. “Assuming they haven’t retained a seat for the Waterlows.”

“The queen appointed me as her representative on the council,” Han said.

“The queen has a representative on the Wizard Council?” Crow looked dumfounded. “What for?”

“Things have changed,” Han said. “The queen’s in charge now.”

Crow muttered something about queens on the Wizards Council.

“They meet on Gray Lady,” Han said. “In the Wizard Council House. Lord Bayar doesn’t want me there. If I were him, I’d make sure I never made it to Gray Lady. I need another way in.”

“What about the tunnels?”

“Tunnels?”

“Gray Lady is riddled with tunnels, built during the Seven Realms War. They fell into disrepair during the Long Peace—until I restored them.”

“The Seven Realms War?” Han repeated. “The Long Peace? What’s that?”

Crow frowned. “Surely you’ve heard of the Seven Realms War, when the gifted came from the Northern Islands and freed the Fells. The Long Peace is when wizards ruled the Seven Realms. You didn’t study history in school?”

Oh. “These days, we call that the War of the Wizard Conquest,” Han explained. “The period of wizard rule is called the Great Captivity.”

“Ha. As I said, history is written by the victors. The truth is, the villains were less villainous, and the heroes less heroic, than you’ve been told.”

Han produced the map of Gray Lady he’d peached from the Bayar Library at Oden’s Ford the last time Crow possessed him. “Is this older map accurate, then?” He spread it out on the table, anchoring it with a lantern, then laid a modern map next to it—one Speaker Jemson had given him. He’d reproduced both of them in Aediion, the best he could from memory.

It was clear they were both of the same mountain, but there the resemblance ended. Crow’s was of an odd, antique style, hand-drawn and annotated. Where Jemson’s map was blank, Crow’s map showed a labyrinth of pathways and tunnels inside the mountain.

Crow studied the scrawled lines on the older map, tracing some of them with his forefinger, comparing it with Jemson’s. “It looks … different,” he said at last.

Finally, he stabbed his finger down onto Han’s map. “Here’s where you can get in. I think.” He looked up at Han. “During my brief reign, we used the tunnels to come and go from Gray Lady while it was under siege. Since blasting through solid rock is challenging even for wizards, I wouldn’t guess many changes have been made to the tunnels themselves. There’s an entrance on the south flank of Gray Lady. Once you’re in, you should be able to make your way unmolested almost all the way to the Council House.”

Crow gazed down at the spiderweb map, eyes glittering, a muscle in his jaw working.

He’s hiding something, Han thought. In the dreamworld, you had to be careful or you’d wear your innermost thoughts splashed over your Aediion face.

“I constructed magical barriers during my residence, so the tunnels were well concealed. However, those who ambushed me came in that way.” Crow scrubbed both hands through his flaxy hair. “So there’s the chance that they are blockaded, guarded, or occupied.”

“That’s reassuring,” Han said, a chill rippling down his spine.

“But let’s be optimistic, shall we, and assume that the magical barricades are still in place. You’ll need the keys to open them. Let’s go over those now.”

The magical keys were a combination of gestures and spoken charms. Crow traced Han’s path on the map, noting the places where charms would be required to pass through.

“Here. Try this.” Crow spoke a series of charms, and layer after layer of magic went up, delicate as Tamric silk. Beautiful and deadly. “Now take it down.”

Han poked a magical hole in it, and the barrier erupted into flames.